Itami's body felt like stone.
Heavy. Numb.
Warmth pooled in his limbs, but it wasn't comforting. It was wrong. Too warm. Too soft. Too still.
A pulse throbbed behind his eyes. Then pressure on his chest. Something pressed against his chest. A shape. A breath. A presence.
He tried to move. Fingers. Lips. Anything. Nothing answered.
A whisper brushed his ear—so faint he wasn't sure it was real.
"I'm sorry…"
A pause. A breath caught in a throat.
Then a drop of something wet landed on his skin. What felt like tears.
He couldn't see. His eyes began to pulse more as he couldn't snap them open.
Why can't I open my eyes? Is someone… crying?
A soft hand moved across his stomach. Careful. Trembling.
He felt a knot in his throat that wouldn't come out.
Another whisper, smaller this time.
"I didn't want this…"
Itami tried his best to open his eyes, anything, But all he could do was drift.
Is this a dream?
The hum of city traffic pressed faintly against the window panes as the morning light crept into the suite.
Itami's eyes opened slowly. He looked at the ceiling for a moment.
Why does this keep happening?
He lay there for a few moments, eyes on the ornate ceiling. A chandelier hung still above him, catching slants of sun like sharp glass teeth.
He didn't move right away.
Eventually, he sat up. His limbs moved without thought—like a checklist running in the background. He wasn't foggy anymore. Just tired. Too tired to feel much of anything.
His uniform was folded neatly across the chair. Just like before.
He dressed in silence.
When he stepped out into the lounge, the air was already filled with the quiet murmur of the television.
Kael was slouched on the couch, remote in hand, cycling through channels like none of them mattered. A cigarette sat in an ashtray by his foot, still burning faintly.
Lira was perched at the kitchen bar, a magazine open in one hand, tea in the other. Her nails tapped lightly against the glass with no rhythm.
Sauske was at the sink, drying off a mug. He looked over briefly but didn't say anything at first.
No one asked how he was feeling.
Itami grabbed a bottle of water, twisted off the cap, and took a slow sip. The coolness did nothing for the weight behind his eyes.
Lira looked up from her magazine just once.
"You're quiet this morning."
Itami shrugged. "Didn't sleep much."
Kael gave a lazy grin from the couch. "Maybe don't party so hard next time, rookie."
Itami didn't smile. He didn't argue.
He just looked out the window, watching the city breathe beneath him.
Are they with me or against me?
The main door opens and closed.
Drex stepped in, his boots sounding sharper than usual against the tile. No wasted movement—just straight to the center of the room, still in uniform.
"Change of plans," he said flatly, voice cutting through the room like a blade. "The original venue's reported structural instability—gas leaks, faulty lighting rig. Either sabotage or negligence, doesn't matter."
Everyone straightened as usual.
"We're being moved to a theater in Hosu. Smaller, tighter. ."
Lira closed her magazine. "That wasn't on the itinerary."
"It is now." Drex dropped a tablet onto the table beside Kael. "Performance's rescheduled for tonight. No breaks. We move in two hours. Long drive ahead."
Sauske spoke up, tone light but edged with concern. "Was it confirmed to be a hazard? Or just… convenient?"
Drex didn't blink. "Doesn't matter. The client signed off. That's what counts."
Itami said nothing.
His gaze stayed fixed on Drex, eyes tired but alert. Hosu. That name rang louder than the rest. He scanned the room—no one else flinched.
Drex held his stare for a beat longer. "You're still her shadow. Nothing changes on your end. She'll meet you in the lobby at seventeen hundred."
He turned to leave—but paused at the door.
"Be ready for anything."
Then he was gone. The door shut behind him with a soft mechanical hiss.
Kael let out a low whistle. "Hosu, huh. Sounds like a fun night."
Lira raised an eyebrow. "That city? Nothing ever happens there."
Sauske muttered, reaching for his gear bag. "Then it'll be an easy one."
Itami stood, the empty bottle still in his grip. The weight of Drex's voice lingered, boots still echoing in his head.
Hosu… Why does that sound familiar?
The lobby glowed with warm lighting, a soft hum of instrumental music in the background. Guests passed through in elegant coats and evening dresses, chatter bouncing quietly off marble walls.
Itami stood near the entrance, suited up again. His posture was composed, but his eyes tracked every face. Every shift in movement. His breaths were slow and deliberate.
Then Aika appeared.
She walked through the elevator doors like she had the past two nights—coat immaculate, heels sharp against polished floors—but something was different.
Her hair wasn't as neatly pulled back. The lines under her eyes were faint but real. Concealer couldn't quite hide them. Her steps were precise but lacked their usual glide.
She didn't speak.
Not at first.
Itami turned toward her. "Evening, Miss Aika."
She nodded once. A pause. Her voice, when it came, was low and tight. "Evening."
No smile.
She adjusted the collar of her coat and moved past him toward the doors. Itami followed, keeping pace beside her.
The SUV rolled up, headlights slicing through the growing dusk. Kael sat behind the wheel. With only a faint whiff of cigarette smoke in the car.
Itami opened the car door as Aika got in. Neither of them spoke as they stepped in. The door closed with a quiet thump.
Inside, the usual luxury felt heavier. Quieter. Aika leaned against the far window, her profile lit by sun. She didn't pull out her compact. Didn't check her phone.
Just stared.
Itami watched her in the reflection, noting the tension in her jaw. Her fingers tightened around the seatbelt once. Released. Then tightened again.
Kael stayed silent. Only a hum here and there but it's quickly drowned out by the hum of the vehicle.
Just silence.
Aika didn't blink.
Itami finally looked away. The silence between them wasn't professional. It wasn't personal. It was something else. A wall that wasn't there yesterday.
He shifted slightly in his seat as he looked out the window. Watching the passing city and cars.
After a couple of hours, the SUV finally pulled up to the back entrance of a modest venue nestled between narrow streets. Not as large or polished as the last two, but still well-lit, still packed with people at the front.
Itami stepped out first, scanning the surroundings.
Aika followed. Still silent.
They made their way to the back entrance as Itami watches Kael drive off into the parking lot.
The hallway backstage smelled of old wood and stage dust. Posters of past shows lined the walls. Itami followed her, steps quiet behind hers.
She walked with purpose, but her shoulders were tight. Too stiff. They walked past workers and other back up dancers before they made it to her dressing room.
She entered her dressing room without a word, door clicking shut behind her. Itami looked at the door blankly before her stood at the side of it.
The door clicked open.
Aika stepped out.
Whatever strain she carried before was gone—or hidden. Her movements were fluid again, rehearsed to perfection. She wore a flowing gown of black and silver, threads shimmering under the stage lights above. A matching blindfold covered her eyes, tied neatly behind her head.
Her posture was flawless. Head held high. Shoulders relaxed. The silence wrapped around her like part of the costume.
She walked forward with slow, deliberate steps. Then stopped.
Turned.
Itami stood a few paces back, arms crossed, watching.
Aika's voice came smooth, unhurried.
"There's a seat set aside for you. Near the front. House right."
He blinked.
Before he could answer, Drex's earlier words echoed in his head:
Accommodate what the VIP says.
"…Sure."
She tilted her head slightly, a faint smile touching her lips.
"I like to have my private guard watch my performance instead of hiding in some dark, damp corner."
He didn't respond. Just gave a small nod.
The smile faded as quickly as it came. She turned and walked toward the stage corridor, the hem of her gown trailing behind her like liquid shadow.
Itami stood still for a moment, watching the backstage lights wash over her frame. Then made his way to the audience. Once he sat down, he saw her, Her blindfold was off. Catching Itami by surprised as she reached center stage.
The theater lights dimmed.
A hush fell over the crowd, a reverent silence settling in as the orchestra began. The stage flooded with blue and silver, soft lights casting long shadows across velvet curtains.
Aika standing perfectly still in the spotlight.
No blindfold this time. Her eyes were uncovered, focused. Her gown shimmered like water under moonlight, matching the cool tones that washed over the stage. Her presence was magnetic—controlled, but not rehearsed. Every step flowed.
Then she sang.
"I am the prophet with the answers you seek…"
Her voice rose like smoke, soft at first, curling through the air. The crowd leaned forward as she held the silence for a moment.
"Time, I've unlocked it— I see past and future running free…"
Itami sat near the front, tucked into the shadows of the VIP section. His eyes stayed fixed on her. The song hit like a whisper pulled from somewhere deeper than the room. her voice itself echoed with each other, ignoring all sense and logic.
"There is a world where I help you get home—
But that's not a world I know…"
Then her eyes met his. And the world tilted.
Suddenly, everything around him slowed—like the orchestra's tempo stretched just enough for him to notice. Aika kept singing, but her eyes locked onto his, her eyes now glowed blue.
"I see a song of past romance—
I see the sacrifice of man—"
Flashes of visions hit Itami all at once.
Her eyes showed Itami dark, faceless silhouettes. Two silhouettes held each other close till one pulled away. Then another standing tall but bloodied. An arm missing from the figure.
Itamis mind began to swirl even more as he couldn't blink, still making direct eye contact with Aika.
"I see portrayals of betrayal
And a brother's final stand…"
More silhouettes appeared as one stood on top a mountain of bodies. With another being covered in flames standing tall.
"I see you on the brink of death—
I see you draw your final breath—"
Itami didn't move. Couldn't. Her voice kept pouring forward, as he felt himself laying on the ground. A open wound on his chest. His breath ragged.
"I see a man who gets to make it home alive—
But it's no longer you…"
Itami began to clench his fingers on the seat, his breathing still raggedy.
"I see your palace covered in red—
Faces of men who had long believed you're dead—"
He now sees his whole village destroyed. Then dark siluetas laughing at him, as the figures dwarf Itami.
"I see your wife with a man who is haunting,
A man with a trail of bodies…"
Itami's heartbeat pounded against his chest as it's trying to escape. A drop of sweat dripped down his forehead.
"I see a song of past romance—
I see the sacrifice of man—
I see portrayals of betrayal
And a brother's final stand…"
Itami kept experiencing same vision over and over again as Aika continued to sing.
"I see you on the brink of death—
I see you draw your final breath—
I see a man who gets to make it home alive…"
Her gaze pierced him one last time.
"But it's no longer you."
Silence. The crowd was silent, only the sound of scattered breaths filled the air.
Then—
BOOM.
A distant explosion rocked the far side of the theater.
Gasps and screams ripped through the theater as people began to panic and run for an exit.
Itami's earpiece buzzed to life with static—then Drex's voice, calm but sharp.
"Extract the VIP now!"
Itami froze up. Sweat dripping down his forehead and chin. He couldn't move.
Aika stood center stage, frozen under the lights, her chest still rising from the last note. Her face was unreadable.
They both stared at one another as the chaos of the crowd running towards the exit never had them break eye sight.