Kusahi moved quickly through the village, his cloak pulled low to hide his face. The sun had just dipped behind the horizon, casting long shadows that blanketed the dirt paths and broken stone walls. His hands trembled slightly—not from the failed assassination, but from what might come next.
As he reached the edge of the village near the western gate, he slipped into the seemingly abandoned building. From the outside, it looked like a ruin—broken roof tiles, splintered doorframe—but inside, it was clean, dimly lit by lanterns. The wooden table at the center was surrounded by four figures cloaked in shadow, their faces barely visible.
"You're late," one of them said coldly.
"I had to act. The opportunity came up," Kusahi snapped, still breathless. "But I failed. Hairu deflected it. And now they're suspicious."
A heavy silence followed.
Another participant leaned forward. "Then why come here? Do you want us all to be dragged down with you?"
"I need help. We need to move fast. The mission's deadline is in two days," Kusahi hissed. "We can't afford delays."
They began discussing—quietly, urgently—what to do next. One suggested going into hiding, another proposed staging an accident instead of another direct attempt. They argued, trying to balance the system's condition—"using your own hand"—with the growing paranoia around the village.
What none of them realized was that just outside, behind a low stone wall covered in moss and vines, Rin crouched silently.
He had followed Kusahi from the moment he bolted from the command building.
So this is where they gather... Rin thought, eyes narrowed, heart steady. He didn't need to go inside. Not yet. Listening was more valuable than revealing himself.
He watched the windows, the flickering shadows. The pieces were starting to come together. He didn't know all the participants, but now he had at least one. That was enough—for now.
He leaned back against the stone, listening.
Waiting.
Inside the abandoned building, tension rose like smoke from a fire.
Kusahi stood near the table, his cloak slightly askew from his rushed arrival. The four other participants—still unnamed to him—shifted uncomfortably. One of them, the red-and-blue-haired Makoto, paced in a tight circle, clearly agitated.
"This is a disaster," someone muttered.
"We should've waited—now they'll start watching everyone!"
Kusahi snapped back, "It was the perfect chance! If Hairu wasn't so damned sharp—"
"You're an idiot, Kusahi!" Makoto suddenly yelled, slamming his palm on the table.
The room went dead silent.
Three of the cloaked participants turned to Makoto slowly, faces shadowed but their shock unmistakable.
Kusahi froze.
Makoto's face paled. "I–I mean…"
"You just said his name," one of them growled.
"You brought a known player into this mission? You risked everything!" another hissed.
Makoto stammered, "I didn't mean to—it just slipped!"
The quiet figure at the corner finally spoke in a low, deliberate voice. "We can't afford loose ends. Either he's in this for real… or we remove the risk."
Kusahi clenched his jaw, heart pounding as the room turned against him.
Outside, Rin knelt in the tall grass, concealed by stone and shadow. His eyes narrowed at the sound of the name. Kusahi. That was all the confirmation he needed.
He didn't move. Didn't blink.
Now I know who you are. And who you're with.
He continued to watch, expression unreadable as the conspirators inside debated Kusahi's fate—unaware that judgment already stood outside their door.
Inside the building, the argument boiled over.
Kusahi was cornered, three of the participants whispering with sharp tones and veiled threats. Tension crackled in the air like static.
Makoto sat back down, muttering curses under his breath.
Then, one of the hooded figures—a tall one with a gray scarf and sharp tone—sighed in frustration and waved them off.
"I'm done with this. We're not assassins—we're players. This mission's cursed."
They pushed open the door and stepped outside.
Rin's eyes widened.
The light from the doorway briefly illuminated the edge of the building—and in that instant, he knew he had to move.
Without a sound, Rin retreated back into the tall grass and trees, shifting his position with trained ease. He didn't flee in a panic. He melted away, a ghost in the dark.
The figure glanced around, scanning the area—but saw nothing. Just rustling wind and scattered shadows.
They lit a cigarette and sat on the broken steps of the building, unaware of the phantom that had just vanished into the forest.
Rin, now safely hidden behind a rock outcrop some distance away, watched silently.
So… there are more of them.
He turned and began making his way back toward the village.
This isn't over.
Nariku sat cross-legged on a patch of grass just outside the village wall, his arms resting on his knees. He was watching the treeline quietly, waiting for Rin to return. The cool breeze rustled the leaves, but his mind was elsewhere.
Whatever Rin had to do, it sure took a while.
Just then, Rin emerged from the shadows of the forest, brushing a few leaves off his shoulder. There was a faint smile playing on his lips—one of those unreadable ones Nariku had seen before.
Nariku stood up. "You're back. So, you done?"
Rin gave him a sidelong glance, his smirk deepening.
"It looks like there's still some fun to be had," Rin said lightly, voice calm but hiding something sharp beneath.
Before Nariku could ask, Rin tilted his head toward a group nearby.
"Why don't you go hang with Tyuri and his squad for now? I've got something else to take care of."
Nariku blinked. "Huh?"
But before he could question it further, Tyuri himself strolled up with his usual relaxed gait. He raised an eyebrow at Rin and Nariku.
Rin gestured lazily. "I was just saying Nariku should join you for a bit."
Tyuri shrugged. "Sure, why not. Come on, kid."
Nariku glanced at Rin again. He couldn't place it, but something felt…off. Still, he nodded slowly and walked toward Tyuri and the others, who were already waving him over.
As he walked away, he looked back once.
Rin was already gone.