The safe house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of old wood settling beneath the weight of time. The glow from the television had long since faded, leaving only the dim yellow light from a lone lamp in the corner. Outside, the distant hum of the city pressed on, oblivious to the war that had been waged in its darkest corners.
Kenzo sat near the window, his sharp gaze tracing the skyline beyond the glass. The city always looked different after a storm, washed clean yet eerily quiet. But he knew better. Beneath the surface, the filth still festered, waiting for another opportunity to crawl back into the light.
His hands rested on his lap, fingers occasionally curling into a fist before relaxing again. It had been a long time since he had felt like this—adrift, uncertain. The mission had been completed, the justice they sought delivered, yet a hollow ache remained. He had spent so long chasing the truth, uncovering the filth hidden behind smiles and polished facades. And now, for the first time in years, there was silence.
Audrey, ever perceptive, noticed his stillness. She had been watching him from across the room, her golden-brown eyes flickering with quiet understanding. After a moment, she stood and approached, her footsteps light against the worn wooden floor.
"You're thinking too much again," she said softly, settling onto the chair beside him.
Kenzo exhaled sharply, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"
Audrey tilted her head slightly, studying him. "Thinking is good. But letting it consume you? That's different."
He didn't respond immediately, his gaze drifting back toward the cityscape. "We did everything right, didn't we?" His voice was even, but there was an edge beneath it, an uncertainty that gnawed at him. "The guilty are behind bars. Reforms are happening. People are finally paying attention."
"Yes." Audrey folded her hands in her lap. "But that's not what's bothering you."
Kenzo let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You always see right through me."
"It's my gift," she murmured. "But even without it, I know you well enough by now."
He fell silent for a long moment, the weight of his thoughts pressing against his chest. "For years, I fought to bring the truth to light. I dedicated everything to exposing corruption, making sure people knew what was really happening beneath their noses." He clenched his jaw. "And for that, I was silenced."
Audrey didn't interrupt, letting him unravel his thoughts at his own pace.
"Now, we fight in the shadows. We tear down monsters from behind the curtain." He exhaled, his fingers tapping against his knee. "But the thing is… I don't know if this is enough. If what we're doing really makes a difference."
Audrey leaned forward slightly, her gaze steady. "We make a difference to the people we save. To the families who can sleep at night knowing the ones who took their loved ones are gone."
"But the system still exists." His voice was quiet, but there was an undeniable fire beneath his words. "For every one we take down, another rises in their place. It's like cutting off the head of a hydra."
Audrey sighed, nodding slightly. "I won't lie to you, Kenzo. We can't fix everything. We aren't gods, and we never will be." She paused. "But we don't need to be. The world doesn't change overnight. Real change is slow, painful. But that doesn't mean what we do is meaningless."
Kenzo closed his eyes briefly, the words settling into his mind. He knew she was right. He had always known. But knowing didn't make it easier.
"Do you regret it?" Audrey asked suddenly.
He blinked, turning to face her. "Regret what?"
"Choosing this path. Continuing to fight even after everything they did to you."
Kenzo considered the question, letting the silence stretch between them. Finally, he shook his head. "No. I don't regret it. But… sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if I had finished that article. If I had lived as a human instead of—" He gestured vaguely. "This."
Audrey smiled faintly, a sad understanding in her eyes. "Maybe you would have published it. Maybe you would have been celebrated for your work." She tilted her head. "Or maybe they would have killed you before it ever saw the light of day."
Kenzo snorted. "You're probably right."
She studied him for a moment before standing. "Take the win, Kenzo. We saved a family tonight. We stopped another monster from taking more innocent lives." She hesitated, then added, "And whether you realize it or not, you still bring the truth to light. Just in a different way."
He didn't respond, but something in her words settled the unease within him. He wasn't sure if it would last, but for now, it was enough.
Audrey gave him one last glance before stepping away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Kenzo remained by the window, watching as the first traces of dawn painted the horizon. The fight wasn't over. It never would be. But for now, he let himself breathe, just for a moment.
And in the quiet, he knew—the truth was still worth fighting for.
The sun had barely crested over the city skyline when Kenzo stirred from his spot near the window. The sky was painted in soft hues of orange and lavender, the first hints of daylight breaking through the remnants of the night. The weight that had pressed against his chest just hours before had lessened, though not entirely gone.
For once, he allowed himself to acknowledge the change. Maybe it was Audrey's words, maybe it was the mere presence of someone who understood, but the darkness that had threatened to consume him had eased. The world was still broken, the battle still endless, but for now, he chose to see the small victories. And that was enough.
The safe house was quiet as he made his way to the kitchen, the scent of fresh coffee already filling the air. Hana was seated at the counter, lazily sipping from a mug, her dark eyes flicking toward him as he entered.
"You look different," she remarked, tilting her head slightly.
Kenzo raised an eyebrow. "Different how?"
She narrowed her eyes in thought before setting her mug down. "Less brooding. Less like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders."
Kenzo exhaled a quiet chuckle. "That obvious, huh?"
Hana shrugged. "You're usually wrapped up in your own thoughts. Like you're constantly unraveling some impossible mystery. But right now… it's like something shifted."
Kenzo didn't answer right away, instead moving to pour himself a cup of coffee. He took a slow sip before leaning against the counter. "Maybe it has."
Hana watched him, expression unreadable. "Audrey?"
Kenzo's grip on his mug tightened ever so slightly. "What about her?"
Hana smirked. "You tell me."
He let out a sigh, shaking his head. "You're fishing for something."
"Maybe. Or maybe I'm just curious." Hana leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. "She's always been the one who understands you best, hasn't she?"
Kenzo hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "She has a way of seeing things others don't."
Hana hummed in agreement. "She's good at that. And you—well, you're terrible at talking about feelings, but even you can't deny that she's important to you."
Kenzo shot her a look, but Hana remained unfazed.
"So?" she prompted.
"So what?"
Hana rolled her eyes. "Don't play dumb, Kenzo. I'm asking if you've thought about what happens after this. When all of this is over."
Kenzo's expression shifted, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "I don't know if it ever really will be over."
Hana clicked her tongue. "That's not what I meant. I mean—us. You. Audrey. All of us. When the fighting stops, when there's nothing left to chase, then what?"
Kenzo exhaled slowly, staring down at his coffee. He had thought about it, though not in a way he was willing to admit. What happened when there were no more missions? No more enemies lurking in the shadows? Would they still find a reason to stay together, or would they simply drift apart?
And Audrey—
Would she still be there?
Would he still have a reason to see her?
"I don't know," he said finally, voice quieter than before. "We've spent so long moving forward, I don't think any of us have thought about stopping."
Hana studied him for a moment before nodding. "Maybe you should start."
Kenzo scoffed lightly. "Since when did you become a philosopher?"
Hana grinned. "Since you started looking like a lovesick idiot."
Kenzo nearly choked on his coffee. "I—what?"
Hana shrugged, amusement twinkling in her gaze. "Just saying. Maybe you should figure out what she means to you before it's too late."
Kenzo remained silent, the words settling deeper than he wanted to admit. Because the truth was, he didn't have an answer. And maybe that was the most terrifying part of all.
The safe house was still wrapped in the quiet hush of morning, but Kenzo's mind had been anything but still. The conversation with Hana lingered, threading its way into his thoughts as he moved through the familiar walls of their hideout.
He hadn't meant to think about it—about her—but now that the thought had been planted, it refused to be ignored.
Kenzo found himself observing Audrey more closely than before.
It started small. The way her shoulders would subtly tense whenever she was deep in thought. The way her eyes flickered with something unreadable whenever she caught sight of him. She always noticed when something was off, always understood before anyone else did. That perceptiveness of hers—her gift, as they called it—was sharper than any blade. It was the reason he couldn't lie to her, even if he wanted to.
He watched her now, seated at the worn-out table in the living room, her fingers absently skimming over a book's pages. She wasn't reading—Kenzo could tell. Her eyes weren't focused on the words, and the subtle crease between her brows hinted that she was elsewhere, lost in thoughts she wouldn't share so easily.
She had always been there.
Through every battle, every moment when the weight of their existence felt unbearable, Audrey had been steady. She had never forced him to talk, never demanded more than he could give. Instead, she waited. Quietly, patiently, as though she knew he would find his own way to the truth.
And maybe that was why he felt so restless now.
What happened after all of this? After the battles, after the mission, after there were no more monsters lurking in the dark? Would they still have a reason to see each other? Would she still be there?
The thought unsettled him more than it should have.
"Dude, you're staring."
Kenzo flinched slightly as a voice cut through his thoughts. Damian.
The larger man grinned like he had just uncovered the most interesting secret of the century. His towering frame leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, mischief dancing in his bright eyes.
"I'm not." Kenzo's response was immediate, clipped.
"You so are." Damian pushed off the frame and sauntered over, taking a seat across from him with an exaggerated sigh. "Damn, Ken. I never thought I'd live to see the day you of all people started mooning over someone."
"I'm not mooning over anyone." Kenzo scowled, taking a deliberate sip of his coffee. It had gone cold, but he welcomed the distraction.
Damian raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Audrey before smirking. "Yeah? Then what do you call that little brooding stare you've been doing for the past ten minutes?"
Kenzo sighed, already regretting not leaving the room earlier. "I was thinking."
"Thinking about what?"
Kenzo hesitated. Damian was sharp in a different way than Audrey. Where she dissected emotions with precision and care, Damian was all blunt force, getting straight to the point with no concern for subtlety.
Unfortunately, it also made him impossible to shake off.
Kenzo shifted, his gaze flicking back toward Audrey. "It's just… after all of this, what happens?"
Damian tilted his head. "You mean after we finally take down the last of these corrupt bastards?"
Kenzo nodded.
Damian hummed in thought. "Hana's been asking the same thing, you know. None of us ever really talked about what happens next." He leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head. "But you—you're not worried about the mission ending. You're worried about her."
Kenzo shot him a sharp look, but Damian only grinned wider. "Dude, it's obvious. You like her."
Kenzo opened his mouth to argue, but Damian cut him off. "And before you start spouting some logical crap about how feelings are irrelevant or how we're 'between two worlds' or whatever, let's just call it what it is. You're into her, and you have no clue what to do about it."
Kenzo exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's not that simple."
"Yeah, it is."
Kenzo shot him a deadpan stare. "We're not human anymore, Damian."
Damian snorted. "So? That means we can't feel things? That we can't want something more?"
Kenzo hesitated. Wanting something more—something beyond the endless chase for justice—was a foreign concept. It had been ripped from him the moment he woke up after his coma, his life stolen by the very truth he had tried to uncover.
And yet…
He found himself watching Audrey again. The way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her lips pressing together in quiet thought. The way her presence had become a constant, something steady in the chaos of their world.
Damian followed his gaze, then grinned. "Y'know, she probably already knows."
Kenzo stiffened.
"C'mon, man. It's Audrey. She literally sees through every lie and deception. You think she hasn't noticed you staring at her like she hung the damn stars?"
Kenzo groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "You are the worst."
"I try." Damian's grin was positively smug. "Look, I'm just saying—maybe instead of overthinking it, you should just dosomething about it."
Kenzo stared at him, unimpressed. "Like what? Declare my undying devotion?"
Damian barked out a laugh. "God, no. That would be painful to watch." He leaned forward, smirk still in place. "I dunno, maybe just talk to her? Ask her what she thinks about what happens after all this?"
Kenzo opened his mouth to argue, but the words never came. Because what if he did? What if he asked, and the answer wasn't what he wanted to hear?
What if, when the fight was over, they all just… drifted apart?
Damian's grin softened slightly, as if reading the hesitation in his silence. "Look, Ken. We've all lost a lot. But maybe—just maybe—not everything has to be taken from us."
Kenzo swallowed, the weight of the words settling deep. He didn't know what the future held. He never had. But maybe—
Maybe it was time to stop running from the question.
And maybe it was time to start looking for an answer.
A sharp knock interrupted the morning stillness. Hana, who had been lazily flipping through a book, exchanged a glance with Damian. Kenzo set down his now-empty mug, already sensing what was coming.
Audrey reappeared from the hallway, her expression calm but serious. "That was fast."
Hana opened the door just enough to retrieve a small, unmarked envelope left on the doorstep. She tossed it onto the table, where it slid to a stop in front of Kenzo.
"Looks like we don't get much time to breathe after all," Damian muttered, stretching. "What's the mission?"
Kenzo unfolded the letter, his eyes scanning the neatly typed words. A name stood out immediately—one he recognized from his past investigations. His jaw tightened.
"A hacker" he said, voice even but sharp. " leaks private photos of women, ruining their lives. The hacker is protected by a secret online group that profits from blackmailing victims"
Audrey met his gaze. "And we're going after the people responsible."
Kenzo nodded, the weight of purpose settling over his shoulders once more. "We leave at sundown."
The team exchanged looks, understanding passing between them in the silent space. There was no hesitation, no doubt.
The fight continued.