Rain had stopped, but the air still felt heavy, as though the city itself was holding its breath. Hana Takahashi stood at her apartment window, staring at the distant glow of the streets. The message she had received hours ago was still on her phone screen.
Stay inside tonight.
Her chest tightened. The words were simple, yet they carried weight — a weight that only one man could leave behind.
"Ren…" she whispered again, her voice almost breaking.
The years apart had not erased him. If anything, they had made him sharper in her memory — every stolen glance, every quiet moment replaying in her mind like fragments of an unfinished song.
But why now? Why, after all this time, did she feel as if the past was clawing its way back to her?
---
Across the city, Ren Nakamura moved like a shadow through the derelict warehouse district. His coat was still damp from the earlier rain, the faint glint of metal hidden beneath it.
He had dealt with men like these before — thugs who thought fear was power. Tonight, Masato "Black Fang" Hayashi's crew had been moving shipments dangerously close to Hana's neighbourhood. Ren could not allow that.
He stepped into the open.
"Who's there?" one of the men called, his voice breaking.
Ren said nothing. The streetlamp flickered above them, and in that brief darkness, he moved.
The clash was swift — fists, steel, and the thud of boots against wet pavement. Ren's movements were precise, silent but merciless, until only one man remained standing.
"Tell your boss," Ren said, his voice low, dangerous, "this city doesn't belong to him. Not while I'm here."
The man scrambled away, leaving Ren alone beneath the rain-dark sky.
---
Hana couldn't sleep. The restless air drove her outside despite the warning she had received. She wrapped herself in a coat and walked through the quiet streets, her heart pounding.
And then she saw him.
At the far end of the street, under the broken lamplight, a tall figure stood with his back to her. Even from that distance, she knew. The set of his shoulders, the way he held himself — unyielding, unbroken.
Her breath caught.
"Ren…"
He turned, and for a brief moment their eyes met across the wet street. The world seemed to stop — no sound, no movement, just the space between them heavy with everything left unsaid.
Hana took a step forward, but before she could speak, a car screeched around the corner. Men leapt out, armed and shouting.
Ren moved faster than she had ever seen him move.
"Hana, get back!" he barked, his voice sharp enough to cut through the night.
The fight exploded around them — the attackers swarming, Ren striking back with ruthless precision. Hana stumbled back against the wall, frozen between fear and awe as she watched him move like something out of a nightmare, each strike efficient and final.
When the last man fell, the street was silent again.
Ren stood there, chest heaving, his eyes locked on her. For the first time, Hana saw the weight he carried — the danger that lived around him like a shadow.
"Ren… what are you?" she asked, her voice trembling.
His jaw tightened. "The man who kept you alive tonight."
He turned to walk away, but Hana's hand shot out, grabbing his sleeve.
"Don't disappear again," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. "Not this time."
Ren froze. For a long moment, neither of them moved, and then he said, so softly she almost didn't hear it:
"I never wanted to leave."
And with that, he was gone, swallowed by the night, leaving Hana standing there, her heart in turmoil, her tears mingling with the damp air.
The tide had shifted. There would be no turning back now.