The safehouse was silent, save for the faint hum of the old refrigerator. Hana sat on the worn sofa, her coat draped over her shoulders, her mind still buzzing from the events of the night.
Ren stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the pale morning light. He hadn't spoken since they arrived, but Hana could see the tension in his posture, the way his hand kept brushing against the knife at his belt as though expecting danger to walk through the door at any moment.
"You live like this?" Hana finally asked, her voice breaking the silence.
Ren didn't turn. "I survive like this."
She hesitated, then rose to her feet, her eyes scanning the small room. There were maps pinned to the wall, marked with circles and names she didn't recognise. A shelf held files and documents, some of them stamped with police insignias, others with symbols she had only ever seen on the news — syndicate crests, black-market ledgers.
"Ren…" Her voice was softer now. "What is all this?"
He was silent for a moment longer before answering.
"The reason I disappeared. The reason I couldn't stay."
Before Hana could ask more, the sound of tyres screeching outside shattered the fragile calm.
Ren moved instantly, crossing the room and grabbing his weapon. "Stay here," he ordered.
But Hana followed him to the door, her pulse racing.
The first shot rang out before Ren could stop her. Glass shattered as bullets tore through the front window.
"Down!" Ren shouted, pulling her to the ground just as another round hit the wall behind them.
The next moments were a blur — Ren vaulting over the furniture, returning fire with lethal precision, his movements calm, almost terrifyingly controlled.
Hana crawled to the corner, her heart pounding as she watched him fight. For the first time, she saw him fully — not just the boy she had once loved, but the man he had become.
When the last attacker fell, Ren stood over him, his chest heaving.
"Tell your boss," he said coldly, "the Shadow Dragon doesn't kneel."
The man's eyes widened before he slipped into unconsciousness.
Hana's breath caught. Shadow Dragon. She had heard that name before — whispered on the news, spoken with fear by police and criminals alike.
Slowly, she rose to her feet.
"You're him," she said, her voice barely audible. "Kage no Ryuu. The Shadow Dragon."
Ren didn't deny it.
"Yes."
The single word felt like it sucked the air from the room.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Hana asked, her voice breaking.
"Because it would have put a target on your back sooner."
Tears burned in her eyes, not from fear but from the weight of everything she had just seen.
"You've been fighting all this time… alone."
Ren finally looked at her, and in his eyes, she saw exhaustion, pain, and something else — a plea she couldn't quite name.
"I never wanted you to see this side of me," he said.
"But now I have," Hana replied, her voice steady despite the tears. "And I'm not walking away."
Before Ren could respond, a phone on the table began to ring — a harsh, metallic sound that cut through the silence.
Ren's expression darkened as he picked it up.
"This is Nakamura."
The voice on the other end was low, urgent. Whatever it said made Ren's jaw tighten.
He ended the call and looked at Hana.
"They know who you are," he said, his tone grim. "And they're coming."
The sound of distant engines rumbled through the city once again, closer this time.
Ren reached for his gun, his eyes hard as steel.
"This night isn't over."
And with that, the lights in the safehouse flickered — and went out.