The flashing red-blue lights of the patrol car still painted the street outside Kai's house when Ryan finally handed the intruder over. The man, wrists bound, ankles shackled, weapon sealed in an evidence bag, was shoved into the back of the police vehicle. Ryan's voice had been steady when giving his statement, but his hands still trembled faintly when the officer clicked the cuffs shut.
When the officers finally drove away, silence dropped back over the street. Ryan drew in a breath, heavy, exhausted, and turned back toward the house. He found himself walking down the hall toward Kai's bedroom. He hesitated at first before his knuckles brushed against the polished wood of the door, and then he pushed it open with a soft knock.
The room smelled faintly of leather and cologne. The blinds were half-drawn, slicing the moonlight into silver strips across the floor. And there at the dresser stood Kai. Ryan stopped cold.
Kai was buttoning up a dark coat, his movements sharp, precise. A black mask lay across his jaw, snug against his skin. Gloves flexed over his hands, pulling tight as though they belonged there. A pair of mirrored goggles caught the thin light, obscuring his eyes but amplifying the unreadable calm on his face. And perched atop his head slanted low was a hat, brim shadowing half his features.
For a second, Ryan's breath caught. The Kai standing there didn't look like the man who had been lounging casually on his sofa minutes ago. He looked like a phantom of the night, faceless and untouchable, ready to vanish into darkness.
Ryan's throat worked before words came. "You… going somewhere?"
Kai didn't hesitate. His voice was calm, too calm. "Yeah. We're leaving."
Ryan blinked. "We?"
Kai finally turned, goggles glinting, the sharp brim of his hat cutting across his cheekbone. His presence filled the room without effort. He gestured lazily toward the bed, where a set of clothes, dark and simple, had been laid out.
"Take them with you'' Kai said. ''I'll wait for you in your car."
And just like that, he walked past Ryan, his footsteps silent, his aura cold, leaving no space for questions. Kai had planned this long before the intruder ever set foot in his house. His throat tightened with questions, but none made it past his lips.. He exhaled, slowly, uneasily, and picked them up. The fabric felt heavier than it should, like it carried shadows with it.
Minutes later, Ryan descended the stairs while carrying Kai's clothes with him. The night air was cooler now, the street empty except for the faint gleam of his car parked under the pale wash of a streetlamp.
Kai was already there, leaning against the passenger side, arms crossed, hat brim shadowing his masked face. He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
Ryan unlocked the car. The locks clicked open, echoing unnaturally loud in the silence. He slid into the driver's seat, the faint smell of leather wrapping around him, his pulse still unsettled. The passenger door opened and shut softly. Kai settled in, silent, still. His aura filled the car as easily as it had filled his house.
Ryan gripped the steering wheel, eyes flicking sideways once. He couldn't read Kai's expression behind the goggles, the mask, the hat. But he could feel him as an unshakable presence, calm and commanding, like the night itself had agreed to bend around him.
The engine roared to life. Headlights cut into the darkness. And without another word, Ryan drove them both away toward his apartment, toward whatever this night still had hidden.
Minutes later, he found himself unlocking his own apartment door. The city's hum was distant here, quiet compared to the storm he had just walked through. Behind him, Kai's footsteps followed not hurried, not uncertain, but steady. Always steady.
Ryan dropped the bundle of clothes onto the sofa. Kai's gaze flicked briefly toward it before he moved deeper inside, inspecting the place without asking, as if it were his own.
Ryan leaned against the doorframe, watching. Confused. Restless. And yet, unwilling to break the strange thread that kept him moving in Kai's orbit.
The morning light slipped cautiously into Ryan's apartment, golden rays sneaking past the curtains and spilling across Ryan's bedroom. The first thing it touched wasn't the clutter of Ryan's books or the half-empty mug on the table; it was the clothes.
They had been laid out neatly on his bed as if some invisible hand had arranged them with meticulous care. A crisp black shirt, pressed so sharply that its folds still looked ironed. Tailored pants, the exact shade Kai Arden had worn the day before, rested beneath it. Beside them sat a pair of sunglasses, their lenses gleaming coldly, catching the sunlight like a quiet threat.
Ryan froze as he got up from his sleep. He rubbed a hand across his tired face, then through his messy hair, trying to shake the odd chill creeping up his spine.
"These aren't mine," he muttered under his breath, his voice rough with disbelief.
The air shifted behind him. "They'll fit you." Ryan turned sharply. Kai was there leaning casually against the wall, like he had been waiting for this very moment. His mask dangled lazily from his fingers, swinging lightly, almost tauntingly. His gaze was steady, unreadable, dark eyes cutting through Ryan with the ease of someone who knew he didn't have to raise his voice to command obedience.
"Why...why are these here?" Ryan asked, tension knotting in his shoulders.
Kai didn't answer immediately. He tilted his head, studied Ryan with a quiet sort of patience, then lifted a brow. That faint smirk curled on his lips, the kind that wasn't playful; it was dangerous. A weapon.
"You'll see," he said at last. His voice was smooth, calm, as if the matter wasn't up for discussion. "Wear them."
Ryan opened his mouth to ask the questions, but the words faltered. They got stuck in his throat the moment Kai's eyes pinned him down.
That stare, sharp, heavy, suffocating, made the air thicken around him. It wasn't anger or force, but something far worse: absolute control.
Ryan swallowed, heart hammering. Slowly, reluctantly, he reached for the shirt. The fabric felt unnervingly expensive against his fingers, cool and precise, almost as if it rejected him for daring to touch it. He slipped into the clothes piece by piece, every movement weighed with hesitation.
When he finally stood in front of the mirror, buttoning the last cuff, a strange unease coiled through his chest. The shirt clung a little too perfectly, shaping him into someone he wasn't. The pants sat at just the right line of his waist, as if custom-tailored for his body and not his own.
He picked up the sunglasses, slipping them over his eyes. For a moment, the reflection staring back at him wasn't Ryan at all. It was Kai's shadow, cold, sharp, untouchable.
Ryan exhaled shakily, pulling the glasses off as if tearing free from something. But the image lingered in his mind like a whisper he couldn't unhear. Behind him, Kai's smirk deepened.
Ryan tugged at the black mask on his face as he walked through the basement corridor. His steps echoed lightly, the sound swallowed by the hush of early morning. Behind him, close enough to feel but not close enough to see, Kai moved. His presence was always like that: steady, looming, but never demanding space.
The elevator dinged open. Ryan stepped out first, Kai a step behind. Together they headed toward the parking lot. And then chaos detonated.
"Mr. Arden!"
"Here, here—Kai Arden, look at us!"
"Mr. Arden, one statement, please!"
The silence of the concrete chamber was shattered under the roar of reporters. Dozens of them, maybe more, surged forward from between parked cars and stairwells. Cameras flashed in rapid succession, a staccato burst of white light that stung Ryan's eyes.
He froze, blinking against the assault. For a moment, he was certain they'd seen Kai. Of course, they had that kind of frenzy that belonged to him. But all the microphones, all the cameras, all the shouting voices aimed straight at Ryan.
"Mr. Arden, are the rumors true?"
Ryan's pulse spiked. His gaze flicked over his shoulder. Kai was there, wasn't he? He turned, heart hammering. Nothing. The space behind him was empty. Only a dark oil stain marked the ground where Kai's shadow had stretched a second ago.
Ryan's lungs locked. No. No, he was here. He walked behind me, and I heard his steps.
"Mr. Arden, why won't you answer?"
"Is it true there was a break-in?"
"Have you increased your security?"
The questions collided into each other, pressing against him like physical blows. Cameras thrust toward his face, flashes bleaching his vision white.
Ryan lifted a hand instinctively, trying to shield himself. "I....I'm not—" But his voice was swallowed by the noise. And still Kai was gone.
Ryan's mind scrambled. Did he slip away to the side? A service door? A stairwell? He scanned the lot desperately. No figure in black. No mask. No trace of movement. It was like Kai had been swallowed whole by the air.
A shiver crept down Ryan's spine. He couldn't even hear Kai's footsteps anymore, that soft, grounding rhythm he'd unconsciously followed for months. The silence pressed against him, heavier than the crowd.
"Mr. Arden, look this way!"
"Your fans are worried, just one comment!"
Ryan's hands trembled. He couldn't let them think he was Kai, couldn't carry that weight. Slowly, he reached for the mask. His fingers tugged at the elastic, pulling it down.