The world hadn't stopped moving. Not when the sirens came. Not when the gunshot echoed off her bedroom walls. Not even when her mother's blood soaked the hallway where Ryu had once run barefoot, laughing.
But inside her, time fractured, splintered into sharp shards she didn't know how to gather.
Ryu blinked up at the ceiling.
The fan spun slowly overhead, indifferent to everything.
Voices murmured outside her grandparents', soft and trembling.
And one low, cold voice she didn't recognize.
Someone was standing outside the door.
She walked to the gate, every step heavier than the last.
There stood a familiar figure ..... Johnny.
She used to call him Johnny. She still doesn't understand ... why is he leaving suddenly?
He stood quietly, covered in bandages and clutching the backpack, eyes averted.
Why won't he look at me?
Is he leaving?
"I'm leaving," he said. "My parents think it's not safe anymore. After... everything."
His voice cracked, but Ryu felt nothing, no sob, no tremble.
She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't hold him back. She wouldn't be the anchor dragging him down.
... Because what future did she have?
She stepped forward and hugged him tightly, silently. Then pulled back.
"Stay alive. That's all I ask."
He opened his mouth, maybe to protest, maybe to beg her to come with him. But he shut his mouth.
The backpack straps bit into his shoulder as he looked at her.
He nodded.
"You too," he said, his voice low and grim.
"Please… let's keep in touch?" she whispered.
"Sure," he whispered back, his forehead resting against hers.
She wanted to believe him. But inside, a small voice whispered, He's already gone.
Then she turned her gaze to the stranger in black.
A mourning suit. Black shirt. Dark tie. Clean shoes. Polite eyes.
But no sadness.
Who is he? she thought.
"I'm sorry for your loss," he said.
Ryu said nothing. She looked at Johnny. He nodded, stepping away to wait with her grandparents. She gave him a soft smile.
She needs to be strong.
The man stepped inside the room. He placed a small wooden box on the table near the window.
"I knew your father, Yujuv. Not personally, but I worked on a case tied to his unit. He was... honourable."
Still, Ryu said nothing.
Honourable... The word felt like a hollow echo.
"I heard what happened. What you saw. What you survived."
He stepped closer.
"I've met a lot of survivors. But you, you're not broken. You're burning. Quietly. I don't recruit victims. I recruit weapons. And you… You're a blade waiting to be forged."
Weapon. Blade.
The words cut deeper than any wound.
Is that all I am now? A tool for someone else's war? Can I live with that?
"I want to bring you into my organization. ZULU.
Whatever you want, money, fame, comfort ... it's yours. So... what's your final say?"
She stared at him. Then, finally, she spoke.
"Save your sympathy. My parents didn't die for money. They died for each other. What's your offer worth in comparison?"
Her voice rose, sharper now.
"And as for money. I think I have enough to sit idle and eat for the rest of my life."
The man smiled. Faint, almost sad.
"Money doesn't stop bullets."
Ryu's eyes narrowed.
He gestured toward the door.
A long silence stretched between them. His eyes held a question waiting, expectant.
What am I doing? Joining them means stepping into a darkness I don't fully understand. I don't even know what that ZULU even does...
But what choice do I have?
The man spoke again, his voice low and steady.
"You want to keep them safe?
Or will you wait for the next knock at the door? You know this world isn't kind to people who ask too many questions."
The question hit her like a punch.
How many more knocks can I survive? How many more goodbyes?
A long silence stretched.
Can I live in fear? Can I keep hiding?
Her mind raced through the memories of bloodied hallways, the screams that still echoed in her ears, the weight of loss crushing her ribs.
If I say no… what then?
Will I be helpless? Will I never be me?
She thought of her parents, their love, their sacrifice.
They didn't die, so I could be broken, afraid.
But joining him meant walking into a new kind of war.
Am I ready to be a weapon? Or have I already been sharpened by pain and loss?
Her throat tightened.
Then Ryu nodded.
"One more thing. I want a bargain."
She met his gaze, voice steady but trembling inside.
His brows lifted, curious
The fear twisted with anger and something deeper ... determination.
I need distractions ....
If I'm a blade, she thought, then I'll choose the forge. I'll shape myself on my terms.
"Protect him, too." Her gaze flicked toward the boy outside, sitting with her grandparents.
I can't lose him either.
Her heart ached, not just for herself, but for Johnny. The last piece of light she clung to.
The man nodded once.
He simply turned, opened the door, and left.
And with that, she made her choice not out of surrender, but out of a fierce will to fight back.
Johnny looked at her in confusion, eyes following the retreating man.
That night, Ryu stood outside her grandparents' room, watching them sleep.
She pressed her palm against the doorframe. To relieve them from a life that once breathed here.
Down the hall, the clock ticked. The house exhaled around her.
And Ryu made her choice.