The next day.
Emma was in her room, quiet sunlight slipping through the curtains. She sat on her bed, book open but unread, mind drifting.
Her phone vibrated.
She looked at the screen.
Dad. He called again.
She answered.
"…Hi."
Ethan's voice came through, calm, familiar.
"Hey, Emma."
A pause.
"How are you holding up?"
"I'm fine."
He knew that tone.
"And your mom?" he asked gently. "Asuka."
Emma's fingers tightened slightly around the phone.
"She's okay," Emma said. "The scratch is healing. I'm watching her."
Good," Ethan replied. "I hate being away when something like that happens."
Silence for a second.
Then he asked, carefully, "Anything else I should know?"
Emma looked toward the window.
"…Some things happened," she admitted. "But I handled it."
A quiet breath from the other end.
"I figured you would," Ethan said. "You always do."
He softened his voice.
"Listen to me. If something feels wrong—trust it. And don't try to carry everything alone."
Emma nodded, even though he couldn't see her.
"I know."
Ethan hesitated, then smiled through his words.
"I'll be back soon."
"…Be careful," Emma said.
He chuckled lightly.
"You too, kid."
The call ended.
Emma lowered the phone, staring at it for a moment longer than usual.
Then she lay back on her bed, eyes on the ceiling—
Thinking.
She went downstairs quietly.
Asuka was in the kitchen—humming.
That alone was strange.
She was leaning against the counter, phone in hand, cheeks slightly pink, smiling at the screen like a teenager.
Emma stopped halfway down the stairs.
"…Mom."
Asuka jolted a little, then laughed it off.
"Oh— Emma! You scared me."
Emma stared.
"You're smiling."
Asuka cleared her throat, quickly setting the phone down.
"I am allowed to smile."
Emma walked closer, eyes narrowing slightly.
"…Dad."
Asuka sighed, defeated, then smiled again.
"He sent me a message."
Emma raised an eyebrow.
Asuka picked up the phone again, clearly proud.
"He said 'I love you'… and then followed it with something extremely unnecessary."
Emma deadpanned.
"Do I want to know?"
"No," Asuka said happily. "You don't."
She poured tea, still in a good mood.
"He's such an idiot sometimes."
Emma sat at the table, watching her mother move around the kitchen, lighter than she'd been in days.
"…I'm glad," Emma said quietly.
Asuka paused, then looked at her daughter warmly.
"So am I."
Emma looked away, pretending not to care—
But the calm in the house felt real.
Emma sat on the couch
Tucking her hair behind her ear
Asuka stared at her smilingly
Emma froze mid-motion.
Her fingers were still tucked behind her ear.
"…What."
Asuka smiled wider, resting her chin on her hand, eyes soft and teasing.
"Awh, my beautiful daughter," she said warmly. "When are you going to marry?"
Silence.
Emma slowly turned her head.
"…I'm in high school."
Asuka waved it off. "I'm not saying now. I'm saying one day."
Emma stared at her like she'd just suggested something illegal.
"There is no 'one day' plan," Emma said flatly.
Asuka laughed. "You say that, but you're pretty, responsible, strong—"
"No."
"And boys do look at you," Asuka added casually.
Emma stood up. "They shouldn't."
That only made Asuka laugh more.
"Oh, you sound just like your father."
Emma paused at that.
"…That's not a compliment."
Asuka walked over and gently fixed a strand of Emma's hair that had fallen loose.
"You'll understand when someone finally breaks through that serious face."
Emma stepped back, arms crossed.
"That's not happening."
Asuka smiled knowingly.
"We'll see."
Emma turned away, muttering,
"…I'm never coming to the kitchen again."
Asuka laughed, the house warm with sound.
----
Night.
Emma lay on her bed, phone in hand, scrolling slowly—dim screen light reflecting in her eyes. Messages. Old posts. Nothing important.
The house was quiet.
Then—
Tap.
Emma paused.
She lifted her head.
Tap. Tap.
Her window.
She frowned and started to sit up—
The latch clicked.
The window slid open.
Curtains moved.
A shadow stepped through.
"Wha—"
Before she could speak—
A hand covered her mouth.
Firm. Controlled. Not rough.
Her eyes widened.
She looked up—
Liam.
So close she could feel his breath. His other hand braced against the wall, keeping balance as he pulled the window shut behind him.
"Don't scream," he whispered.
Emma's heart didn't race.
Her eyes narrowed.
She grabbed his wrist and twisted—hard—
But he anticipated it, releasing her mouth instantly and stepping back half a step, hands raised.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Fair."
Emma stood fully now, posture sharp, deadly calm.
"You broke into my room," she said coldly.
"I know."
"You're lucky you're still standing."
"I know that too."
Silence.
Moonlight cut across his face.
He lowered his voice. "I know about Vex."
Emma froze.
"…What."
"The scientist," Liam continued. "Robots. Dead bodies. Tests."
Emma stared at him, trying to read his breathing, his eyes—looking for lies.
"You shouldn't know that," she said.
"I do," he replied. "And I know he came to your house."
Her jaw tightened.
"And," Liam added carefully, "I know your mom got hurt."
The air changed.
Emma took one slow step toward him.
"How."
Liam exhaled. "I hear things. People talk. Especially when something scares them."
She was quiet.
Dangerously so.
"I'm not here to hurt you," he said. "I'm here because that guy doesn't stop. And when he comes back—"
He looked straight at her.
"—you shouldn't be alone."
Emma studied him for a long moment.
Then—
"You don't get to decide that," she said.
"I know," Liam replied. "But I can help."
Silence stretched.
Outside, the wind moved the trees.
Finally, Emma spoke.
"…You leave through the window," she said. "The same way you came."
Liam nodded once.
"But," she added, eyes sharp, "if you're lying—"
He met her gaze without flinching.
"I'm not."
Another pause.
"…Fine," Emma said. "Talk. Quickly."
Liam didn't smile.
He knew—
This wasn't trust.
It was permission.
Liam was explaining—low voice, fast, serious.
"…Vex isn't working alone. He's testing reactions, patterns––"
"No," Emma cut in sharply. "That doesn't line up."
"It does," Liam insisted. "You don't see the whole picture—"
"I said no."
Her voice rose—just a little.
Too much.
She inhaled—
About to shout.
Liam reacted instantly.
His hand was back over her mouth.
"Stop," he whispered urgently.
That did it.
Emma snapped.
She grabbed his shoulder hard, fingers digging in, and yanked—
RIP.
Fabric tore.
His shirt split open down the side.
Emma pushed him back, eyes blazing.
But Liam didn't stumble.
Instead—
He moved.
Fast.
He caught her wrist, twisted just enough to break her leverage, then stepped in close and locked her arm with one hand, pinning it against her side. His other hand stayed over her mouth—not crushing, just firm.
"Enough," he said quietly.
Emma struggled once.
Twice.
Didn't budge.
She looked up—
And froze for half a second.
His torn shirt slid off his shoulder and dropped.
Under the dim moonlight, his build was obvious—solid, trained, real strength earned the hard way. Not bulky. Not showy. Just… dangerous when needed.
Emma stopped moving.
Not scared.
Assessing.
Liam noticed immediately and loosened his grip—still holding her arm, but no longer forcing.
"I'm not your enemy," he said low. "But you can't yell. Not here."
Her breathing slowed.
She glared at him.
Then she bit his palm lightly—not enough to injure, just a warning.
He pulled his hand away at once.
Silence.
They stood there, close, tense, both alert.
Emma finally spoke, voice cold but controlled.
"…Touch me like that again without a reason, and I won't stop."
Liam nodded once.
"Fair."
He took a step back, giving her space.
"I'm strong," he added calmly. "But so are you. That's why I'm here—to make sure neither of us fights this alone."
Emma didn't respond.
Liam was still standing there, shirtless, moonlight cutting across his frame as he spoke—low, focused, explaining what he knew.
Emma listened.
Quiet.
Sharp.
Then she interrupted him—not loudly, not harshly.
Just… honestly.
"…You are strong."
Liam stopped mid-sentence.
He blinked once, clearly not expecting that.
His jaw tightened slightly, not from anger—something else. He glanced down for half a second, then back at her.
"…Yeah," he said. "I had to be."
Emma's eyes didn't linger in any obvious way. She wasn't embarrassed. She wasn't impressed in a shallow sense. She was measuring—the way she always did.
"Not just physically," she added.
That hit harder.
Liam exhaled slowly. "You noticed."
"I notice things," Emma replied. "That's why I don't trust easily."
He nodded. "That's fair."
Silence settled again—but this time, it was different. Less sharp. Less combative.
Liam shifted slightly, clearly aware of the situation now. "I should probably—"
"Finish," Emma said calmly. "Then leave."
He met her gaze.
"…Vex doesn't care about you specifically," Liam continued. "He cares about what you represent. Someone who keeps ruining his 'tests.' If he comes back, it won't be loud. It'll be quiet."
Emma absorbed that.
Then she turned slightly toward the window.
"…Then if he comes quietly," she said, "he won't leave at all."
Liam almost smiled.
Almost.
"I figured you'd say that."
He stepped back, reaching for his torn shirt.
"And Emma," he added softly, before moving toward the window.
She looked at him.
"…Thanks. For not screaming."
She replied flatly,
"…Don't make me regret that."
Liam nodded once—serious.
Then he slipped back out into the night, leaving the room silent again.
Emma stood there for a moment longer—
Thinking.
Chapter end