The phone vibrated loudly on the table, dragging Takashi out of sleep.

  For a moment, he didn’t know where he was or how long he’d been asleep.

  He rubbed his eyes, his body stiff from sleeping on the sofa, still dressed in his work clothes. The last thing he remembered was sitting down for a moment… and then nothing.

  He reached for the phone, trying to pull himself together.

  Kenta.

  “Yes?”

  Takashi answered, his voice rough.

  “Did I wake you up?” Kenta asked.

  “Yes. You woke me up,” Takashi said, rubbing his eyes again.

  “What is it?”

  “Ryo is in.”

  Kenta’s voice was tight with excitement.

  Takashi sat up instantly.

  “Just like that?”

  he asked, fully awake now.

  “I told you,” Kenta said, clearly enjoying himself.

  “He’s dying for stories like this. He didn’t hesitate for a second.”

  Takashi exhaled slowly.

  “Did you explain everything to him?

  Did you tell him this could be dangerous?”

  “Of course I did,” Kenta replied, sounding almost offended.

  “I told him everything.”

  Takashi went still.

  “You didn’t tell him anything about Sota, did you?”

  There was a brief pause.

  Then Kenta scoffed.

  “Oh my God… what do you take me for, Takashi Mori?”

  “Of course I didn’t.”

  Takashi closed his eyes for a moment, relief washing over his face.

  “So… we’re actually doing this?”

  Takashi said it softly, as if he wasn’t speaking to Kenta, but to himself.

  “Yes,” Kenta replied briefly.

  Then he added, more serious now,

  “And one more thing.”

  Takashi waited.

  “Ryo said he needs some time. He wants to do this his way.”

  Kenta paused.

  “We don’t need to do anything for now. He’ll contact us when everything’s ready.”

  Takashi stayed silent.

  “I’m sorry I woke you up,” Kenta said.

  “But now that you’re awake… do you want to go out? I’m grabbing drinks with the guys.”

  “No,” Takashi replied without hesitation.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “I think I’ll stay home and sleep.”

  Kenta sighed.

  “I don’t even know why I asked,” he said, irritation slipping into his voice.

  “See you at the office tomorrow.”

  The line went dead.

  Takashi stood up and walked toward the kitchen.

  He needed coffee.

  As he waited for the water to boil, he stopped by the window overlooking the street.

  The city outside was quiet, almost empty.

  His gaze lingered there longer than it should have.

  Part of him hoped...foolishly that he might see Sota standing outside again, just like before.

  But the street remained still.

  There was no one.

  The sound of the water boiling pulled him out of his thoughts.

  Takashi poured the coffee and carried the cup back to the sofa.

  The silence felt almost too loud.

  His mind drifted to Ryo, to Sota, to his father.

  The images tangled together, refusing to settle.

  Suddenly, he wasn’t sleepy at all.

  Maybe I should go to Shirogawa, he thought.

  He should tell Sota about the plan.

  He couldn’t explain the need to talk to him.

  He just wanted to tell him about the night he lost his father.

  He wanted to ask about his life.

  He wanted to understand the truth behind the silent sadness in his eyes.

  But he couldn’t let his emotions lead him.

  This alliance should never have happened.

  It was a risk for both of them.

  Takashi leaned back against the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

  No.

  I won’t look for him.

  He’ll come… when he’s ready.

  His thoughts were a mess.

  Ryo kept coming back to his mind.

  Would he manage to find out something?

  He’s clever… careful.

  He won’t let anything happen.

  That thought was enough.

  Takashi closed his eyes.

  A few days passed, and life slipped back into routine.

  Work. Home.

  The same streets. The same silence.

  No news from Ryo.

  No sign of Sota.

  It was too quiet.

  And Takashi didn’t like it.

  Takashi sat at his desk, staring at nothing in particular.

  It was almost time to go home.

  Kenta approached and, as he so often did when he wanted to talk, sat down on the edge of Takashi’s desk. He was already wearing his jacket, ready to leave the office.

  “Are you going home?” Kenta asked.

  “Yes,” Takashi replied. “Give me a second to get ready.”

  Kenta reached for the papers scattered across Takashi’s desk and began stacking them neatly, helping without being asked.

  “Ryo called me just now,” he said casually.

  Takashi looked up at once.

  “He managed to get inside,” Kenta added.

  “Did he say anything else?” Takashi asked, his voice calm but focused.

  “No,” Kenta replied. “You know Ryo.” He shrugged slightly. “All we can do now is wait.”

  He helped Takashi pull on his jacket.

  “Well,” Takashi said quietly, “that’s good… isn’t it?”

  He was unusually calm.

  “Yes,” Kenta agreed. “That’s good.”

  They walked toward the exit in silence.

  “Let’s go,” Kenta said finally. “We’ll see what comes out of this.”

  As they went their separate ways, Takashi sat alone in his car.

  His thoughts kept circling back to Sota.

  Why hadn’t he shown up yet?

  Was he in danger?

  Had they found out he’d been at his apartment?

  The questions wouldn’t leave him alone.

  He’d been restless all day, unable to focus, and now it was worse. His thoughts raced, colliding with one another, refusing to slow down.

  Takashi started the engine and pulled away from the curb.

  He didn’t even realize he wasn’t driving toward his apartment.

  By the time he noticed, he was already in Shirogawa.

  He parked the car in a dark alley behind the bar, forgetting everything about the deal he had made with Sota.

  As he approached the bar, shouting cut through the night.

  “You scumbag! What were you doing with my girlfriend?!

  Takashi stopped short.

  That sounds like trouble, he thought.

  Then he heard a familiar voice.

  “If she’s your girlfriend,” the voice said calmly, “why was she looking for me?”

  The sound of a punch followed.

  Takashi’s blood ran cold.

  That was Sota’s voice.

  He rushed forward,then stopped again.

  Two men were holding Sota from behind, their grips tight, while a third stood in front of him, striking him without hesitation.

  He froze for a split second then forced himself to move.

  In one smooth motion, he pulled the gun from behind his back.

  “Let him go!” Takashi shouted.

  The command cut through the night.

  All three of them turned at once.

  The moment they saw the gun, the color drained from their faces.

  Their grips loosened. Fear replaced arrogance in an instant.

  They released Sota and vanished into the darkness of the alley within seconds, leaving him on his knees.

  Takashi rushed forward and slipped an arm under Sota’s shoulder, trying to lift him.

  Sota raised his head, wiping the blood from his split lip with the back of his hand.

  His eyes were sharp,cold, cutting.

  “Why did you come?” he asked.

  “Let me help you,” Takashi said quickly.

  “If I hadn’t come, look at what could’ve happened.”

  He tightened his grip slightly.

  “You can’t be of any use to me if something happens to you.”

  The words slipped out before he could stop himself.

  Sota brushed Takashi’s hand away, anger flashing in his eyes.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,”

  Takashi said quickly, trying to take back the words he couldn’t.

  “Don’t explain yourself, Detective.”

  Sota stood up, brushing the dust from his knees.

  “I know exactly what I am to you.”

  “No. It’s not what you think,” Takashi said quickly.

  “I came to see if you were all right.”

  Sota let out a short, bitter breath.

  “As you can see, Detective… I’m fine.”

  He lifted his head, meeting Takashi’s gaze. There was no anger now, only disappointment.

  “This is just part of my life.”

  He straightened fully.

  “You can go home now.”

  “I can’t leave you like this,” Takashi said firmly.

  Sota stopped and glanced back, a faint, almost mocking smile touching his lips.

  “Like what?”

  He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Don’t worry,” he added quietly. “This is nothing.”

  “I can fight my own battles.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  With that, he turned and started to walk away.

  “I know I’m not like my father,”

  Takashi said, his voice steady despite the tightness in his chest.

  “But tell me… what do I need to say? What do I need to do to make you understand I’m not what you think?”

  He stood there, watching Sota walk away.

  Sota stopped.

  He didn’t turn around.

  Not even for a second.

  “You don’t need to say or do anything,” he replied quietly.

  “You could never be like him.”

  Then he continued walking.

  “Go home, Detective.”

  His words echoed through the alley

  Damn it, Takashi, he cursed himself.

  Sota was already gone, swallowed by the darkness.

  As he walked back toward his car, anger burned hot in his chest, but it wasn’t aimed at Sota.

  It was at himself.

  I ruined everything, he thought.