The neon lights bled into Riku's dim apartment like diluted blood, staining the worn wallpaper in patches of blue and red. He sat in silence, watching the memory card spin slowly on the table like a coin. Mitsue was still asleep on the couch, curled up in a hoodie that was too big for her and a blanket that barely covered her legs. She snored softly—an oddly comforting sound in a world filled with noise.
The system had gone quiet, too. No new notifications, no random perks or surprise missions. Just stillness.
Riku leaned back and stared at the ceiling. The events of the night before played over and over again in his mind—the smooth execution, the stolen memory card, Takeru's bloody smirk, and Mitsue's fearful eyes. Every detail carved itself deeper into his thoughts.
He couldn't deny it anymore.
He liked it.
Not just the rush of power—but the clarity. The certainty. When he used the system correctly, the world bent. No more uncertainty. No more guessing.
But he also knew there was a line.
And it was easy to cross.
Morning came with rain. Again.
Mitsue stirred, blinking at the grey light pouring through the window. "Hey…" she mumbled. "Thanks for not... you know... ditching me."
"You're part of something bigger now," Riku replied calmly, echoing the words he'd said last night. They didn't feel like a lie, but they didn't feel like the truth either.
Mitsue sat up, groaning. "You sound like a cult leader."
He chuckled and offered her instant coffee.
They sat on the floor, sipping quietly. Then the knock came.
Three sharp raps.
Riku's posture straightened. Mitsue tensed.
"Expecting someone?"
"Nope."
He peered through the peephole. A girl. Slim, tan, dressed in what looked like a black military jacket over a school uniform. Her hair was tied in a short ponytail. She had a confident smirk and a familiar glint in her eyes.
"Kira…?" Riku blinked and opened the door. "What are you doing here?"
Kira Ryugami. Former track team captain. Used to be his school rival in everything—from sports to grades. Smart, cocky, and, last he heard, recruited into some secretive youth security force.
"I came to warn you," she said without preamble. "You're being watched. The Kisaragi family put out a surveillance notice on you and the girl."
Riku's blood ran cold.
Mitsue popped her head up. "Wait, what?"
Kira walked in like she owned the place. "I broke protocol just showing up here. But I had to. You're walking into something way bigger than the Yakuza. Political corruption. Private militaries. Tech corporations. And you, Riku, are right in the center."
"How do you know this?" Riku asked carefully.
She gave him a long look. "Because I've been watching you for weeks."
They talked for hours. Kira explained that she'd joined a discreet intelligence group tied to government operations, and her team had been monitoring emerging individuals with "unusual influence" patterns. Riku fit that description perfectly.
He played dumb—never once mentioning the system.
Mitsue seemed skeptical, but Riku felt it. Kira was telling the truth.
Kira stayed for lunch. Then afternoon passed. Then evening.
And then the rain intensified.
By nightfall, the apartment was soaked in golden light from the overhead bulb. Mitsue had gone to stay at her cousin's for the night, giving them space.
It was just him and Kira. And the tension.
She sat on the windowsill, legs crossed, sipping tea. Her jacket had been tossed over a chair, and her uniform blouse clung slightly to her figure from earlier rain.
"You've changed," she murmured.
"You always say that," he said. "You used to say it even when I got a haircut."
She smiled faintly. "No, this time it's different. You've got... weight. Like you know what people are really capable of."
Riku looked at her, and for a second, he saw beyond the usual confident shell. There was exhaustion. Uncertainty. Maybe even fear.
"I had to grow up fast," he replied.
They sat in silence.
"You know what I miss?" Kira said suddenly. "When we used to race around the school track at night. You and I. Competing for nothing."
"I miss that too."
She slid off the windowsill, walked over, and sat beside him on the futon. Their shoulders brushed.
"You scare me a little, Riku."
"Good," he whispered. "I scare myself sometimes too."
Her fingers touched his hand. "Do you still know how to stop?"
"Not really."
And then, in the stillness of neon and thunder, their lips met.
Not rough. Not forced. Just real.
Their breaths mingled, hesitant at first, then deeper. Kira's hands gripped his shirt as he pulled her into his lap. Her legs wrapped around him naturally—familiar, trained, balanced. Their kiss turned hungry, lips tasting like rain and regret.
His hand brushed the edge of her skirt. She didn't pull away.
But he did.
Just slightly.
"We don't have to," he whispered.
"I know." Her eyes searched his. "But I want to."
They moved to the mattress.
Slowly.
Not out of lust alone—but because for a moment, they were just two tired warriors finding comfort. Her touch traced old bruises. His fingers ran across her spine like a song. Breath and skin, softness and tension. Each motion layered with trust and unspoken memories.
They didn't speak during. They didn't need to.
The world outside roared.
But inside the room, it was just them.
When it was over, Kira rested her head on his chest.
Riku stared at the ceiling.
And the system finally pinged.
[New Buff Gained: Emotional Link Established - Synergy Bonus Activated with Kira Ryugami. +5% effectiveness in partnered missions.]
Riku exhaled.
Power. Real power… wasn't always bought.
Sometimes, it was earned.