Raizen stopped walking for a second and just stared at the little armored lump carried by Kenzo.
Enya snored again. Slowly. Proudly. Like she paid rent on his shoulder.
Kenzo didn't even flinch this time. He just shifted her weight, then glanced sideways at Raizen. "So," he said, almost too casual, "what are we doing with her?"
Raizen blinked. "Taking her home."
Kenzo raised an eyebrow. "That's not an answer."
Raizen exhaled through his nose. He understood what Kenzo meant. This wasn't normal sleep. Enya didn't look hurt anymore, not broken, but the way her body went limp felt wrong. Too sudden. Like someone just flicked a switch.
And they couldn't drag her back to her father like that. Not without a believable story, not without questions. Not without risking the exact kind of attention Enya apparently collected like trophies.
Raizen rubbed his wet sleeve, then caught Kenzo's wrist gently and tilted it toward a lantern's light filtering through the leaves.
