The train slowed, gently rocking them both awake as it approached the platform. Kou’s head slid slightly against her arm, his mouth half open, a thin trail of drool glistening at the corner of his lips—evidence of how little sleep he’d gotten the night before.

  Amy smiled faintly, then gave his shoulder a gentle tap. “Wake up, sleepyhead. We’re here.”

  Kou blinked awake, rubbing his eyes with a sleepy grin. “Oh.. Already?”

  As they stepped out of the train station, the change in atmosphere left them momentarily bewildered. The complete shift of atmosphere from London straight out of a countryside postcard. The air was cleaner, carrying the scent of earth and distant flowers. Rows of cottages with weathered stone walls lined the streets, their windows adorned with bright flower boxes. The rolling hills beyond stretched endlessly, a sea of green blending into the sky.

  Kou’s eyes sparkled with wonder. The city boy in him, so used to crowded streets and dull schoolyards, was mesmerized. “It’s so pretty!” he whispered, clinging to Amy’s hand without realizing it.

  Amy held Kou’s hand with a gentle smile, but her eyes stayed sharp, scanning the area for anything unusual. Almost absentmindedly, her other hand brushed against the discreet earpiece tucked beneath her hair—a reflex born from years of living in the shadows. Static crackled faintly, but the line stayed quiet for now. No updates. No warnings. Just silence.

  A passing pair of police officers strolled by, chatting casually. They didn’t glance twice at her or Kou, but Amy’s body stayed tense until they were out of sight.

  She glanced down at Kou, who was already half-skipping ahead, eager to explore. Amy let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

  Maybe this would feel like a real vacation after all.

  Kou and Amy strolled into the heart of the town, Kou skipping slightly ahead with excitement. The streets were lined with charming stands and shops, almost like a festival—but quieter, calmer. There weren’t enough crowds for them to lose each other, but that also meant it would be easier for someone to spot—or ambush—them.

  They stopped at a small miscellaneous shop, its windows filled with wooden toys, mannequins dressed in old-fashioned clothes, and vivid paintings that caught Kou’s eye. Inside, shelves were lined with intricately crafted miniature villages, each one capturing the charm of an old English market town. There were cottages with thatched roofs, cobbled streets, tiny lampposts, and village greens where little figurines stood frozen mid-conversation. Some sets even had rolling meadows attached, while others recreated lively village squares with bakeries, pubs, and bookshops.

  Kou tugged gently on Amy’s sleeve, pulling her toward one particular display—a farmhouse scene with a meadow in front, and a small family standing together. His eyes sparkled. “Mom, can I get one of these? They look so special.”

  Amy raised an eyebrow. “Why this one?”

  Kou’s voice softened, almost shy. “I want something to remember this trip with you, mom. These kinds of things help me hold onto memories. And I don’t want to forget this time with you.”

  Amy blinked, caught off guard by his words. There was a tremble in them, as if something deep inside him knew trips like this wouldn’t come often—or maybe ever again. Without another word, Amy gently patted his shoulder in reassurance and took out her pouch, heading to the counter.

  “That’ll be twenty-five pounds.” the cashier said nonchalantly.

  Amy handed over a fifty-pound note, receiving her change in return. The shop owner wrapped the crafted farmhouse carefully in paper, tucking it into a small bag before handing it over. Kou smiled brightly, gripping Amy’s hand with both of his.

  “Thank you, mom!”

  Amy smiled back.

  As they stepped back outside, the shop owner waved them off with a warm “Thank you!” Despite the quietness of the town, there was warmth in the air—a sense that this was the kind of place families came to make small, precious memories.

  As they walked through town, Amy’s stomach growled—loud enough for Kou to hear. His face lit up instantly.

  “Let’s go to a fancy restaurant!” Kou beamed. “We should treat ourselves well! Grandpa always took me out every Friday when school ended—Friday dinners were the best!”

  Amy gave a small smile, keeping up her motherly act. “Alright, let’s see what we can find.”

  Just as they turned the corner, a pair of police officers headed straight toward them. Amy’s fingers tensed slightly, her senses sharpening. She knew this was coming. Sanctuary had warned her.

  “Excuse me, miss, and…”

  The officer’s eyes flicked to Kou before turning back to Amy. Before he could finish the question, Amy smoothly cut in.

  “He’s my son,” she said softly, her voice sweet but firm.

  The officers exchanged a quick glance. One scratched the back of his neck. “Ah… right. Your son. You look a bit young to be a mum.”

  Amy gave a light, effortless laugh. “That’s what people always say. But I’m married.”

  “Where’s your husband then?”

  Beside her, Kou’s hand tightened around hers. He had no idea how to lie under pressure—but he could feel the air shift, the same way animals could sense a coming storm.

  “He’s working today,” Amy answered smoothly, keeping her smile intact. “So it’s just the two of us on a little adventure.”

  The officer jotted down some notes, then looked back up. “And what do you do, ma’am?”

  “I’m a housewife,” Amy said, her tone so casual it was almost convincing even to herself.

  But then, the second officer leaned in, whispering something to his partner. The first officer frowned slightly. “It’s Wednesday today. Shouldn’t he be in school?”

  Amy cursed herself inwardly for not thinking about that in advance. It was quiet here—too quiet—and the absence of other children suddenly stood out. But she didn’t flinch.

  “He’s been under the weather,” she explained gently. “This trip is actually a little wellness break before sending him back to school.”

  The officer raised an eyebrow. Amy could feel the suspicion rising—not enough to act on yet, but enough to keep digging.

  “Can I see your ID please?”

  “Of course.” Amy reached into her bag, her fingers brushing against the hidden compartment where her tranq gun rested. Her eyes flicked left, then right. Only a few civilians lingered nearby—none paying them any attention. There would be no crowd to vanish into if things went wrong, but Amy was confident. Two officers wouldn’t stand a chance if she needed to act. Her fingers curled around the handle—

  Before she could draw it, Kou’s voice broke through.

  “She’s not like that! She’s the best mom ever!”

  Amy froze. Kou’s eyes were glassy with tears, his voice cracking with raw honesty. But before the officers could even respond, Kou quickly bowed his head slightly in apology.

  “I’m sorry for shouting, officers. I know you’re just doing your job, and I really appreciate you for keeping the town safe. It’s just… my mom isn’t doing anything wrong! She’s just trying to make me happy. I got in trouble at school, and instead of punishing me, she brought me here. To this beautiful place. That’s why I want to treasure this time with her.”

  The officers stared at the boy—his trembling hands, his earnest eyes. There was no faking that kind of sincerity.

  The first officer softened. “Alright, lad. No need to get upset. We’re just doing our rounds.”

  He gave Amy a polite nod and a faint smile. “Enjoy your trip.”

  The second officer still seemed unsure, but after a glance at Kou, even his suspicion flickered out. They walked away, leaving Amy and Kou alone.

  Amy stood there a moment longer, staring at Kou with something close to awe.

  He’s always crying, she thought. And somehow… those tears keep saving me.

  -

  Kou and Amy arrived at a countryside restaurant, choosing a seat under one of the umbrella tables. The outdoor seating was framed by a lush garden border, the green leaves swaying gently in the afternoon breeze.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Kou looked around, wide-eyed with surprise. Amy had picked a place that felt almost too peaceful—relaxing, surrounded by nature’s quiet embrace. It was the kind of restaurant that felt like a once-in-a-lifetime treat for someone like him.

  He eagerly scanned the menu, his legs swinging slightly under the table.

  “Order anything you want,” Amy said, her voice soft and warm. “It’s been a rough day—you deserve something good.”

  Kou didn’t need to think twice. “Fish and chips!” he beamed, almost raising his hand.

  But even as he grinned, a small knot twisted inside him. Something about all of this—being spoiled, being treated like a normal happy kid—felt almost unreal. Like a dream too good to last. He quickly shook the feeling off, focusing instead on the food.

  “Any drinks?” Amy asked, her voice gentle.

  “Lemonade!” Kou said instantly, then tilted his head. “What about you, mom?”

  Amy glanced down at the menu, her finger tracing over the options. “I’ll have the mushroom risotto,” she said softly, then paused, eyes drifting toward the drink section. Normally, she’d stick with black coffee — but for once, the cappuccino caught her eye. “And a cappuccino, please.”

  “Woah… cappuccino.” Kou said the word like it was something rare and fancy.

  When the drinks arrived, Kou took a long sip of his lemonade, ignoring the floating lemon slice. His eyes wandered to Amy’s cup, watching her absentmindedly stir the foam with her spoon.

  “Do you want to try?” Amy offered, catching his curious stare.

  Kou leaned forward eagerly, but the moment the bitter foam touched his tongue, he jerked back in his seat, face scrunched in absolute betrayal. “That’s not chocolate!”

  Amy’s lips curved into a smile—half amused, half fond. “At least now you know.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the food arrived, filling the air with the comforting scent of fried batter and creamy rice.

  “There you go, son. One beer-battered fish and chips with tartar sauce. Enjoy!”

  “Thank you, sir!” Kou said brightly.

  “And your risotto, madam.”

  “Thank you—it looks wonderful.” Amy kept up her cheerful act, but even she found herself genuinely impressed by the food.

  Kou’s eyes sparkled at the massive portion in front of him. The fish was almost the size of his face, and the golden chips piled beside it looked heavenly. His mouth was already watering.

  The waiter chuckled. “Big appetite for a small lad, huh?”

  Kou grinned proudly. “It’s fish and chips—who could say no to that?”

  Amy shook her head lightly, smiling at his pure enthusiasm.

  As the waiter left, Amy dug into her risotto with quiet elegance, while Kou attacked his plate like a storm. He squeezed the lemon furiously over the fish, juice splattering everywhere. Then, like a ketchup-mad scientist, he doused his chips until they were practically swimming in red.

  Amy raised a brow in disbelief, but she couldn’t help the soft laugh that slipped out. She handed him a wet tissue from her pouch, which Kou accepted gratefully.

  Kou sawed at the fish with his knife and fork, but his technique left the fillet in shreds—bits of flaky meat scattered across the plate. Amy watched, bemused.

  “You’ve never used a knife and fork properly, have you?”

  Kou gave a sheepish smile. “It’s hard!”

  He took a big bite, eyes widening at the flavor explosion. His whole face lit up with delight, and Amy—spoon halfway to her mouth—paused just to watch him. His joy was infectious. It made her want to spoil him even more.

  That unfamiliar pull—a maternal tug she couldn’t name—tugged at her chest. But right behind it, like a shadow clinging to sunlight, was the cold whisper of reality. This wasn’t who she was. She couldn’t be this person. Not for long.

  She shook off the thought, returning to her meal.

  “Do you want dessert?” she asked, her tone deliberately bright.

  “Umm, are you sure?” Kou hesitated.

  “Of course.”

  Kou hesitated, hands curling into his lap. After all this… could he really ask for more? Maybe he didn’t deserve dessert. Maybe it was greedy to want more happiness when they already had this perfect day. But Amy smiled so gently, like it was okay. Like it was really okay.

  “Then… Can I have the apple pie?”

  Amy’s spoon froze halfway up. The words apple pie struck her like a forgotten melody playing from somewhere deep in her mind. A sunlit picnic. A warm hand offering her a slice. Her mother’s voice. The dream she had last night slammed back into her chest like a wave.

  “Mom? Mom?”

  Kou’s voice brought her back. She blinked, staring at him, slightly dazed.

  “Mom…” she repeated softly, like she was testing the word for the first time.

  Kou’s brow furrowed slightly, concerned, but Amy shook her head, putting on a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “Apple pie it is,” she said softly.

  Kou was aware that there was something about the apple pie that made Amy sorrowful.

  He had an idea. A particularly bright one. Something that he dreamed of doing with his friends and family but never had the opportunity.

  “Mom, can we get the whole apple pie to go?”

  Amy raised a brow. “The whole pie? You really do have a big appetite.”

  “No,” Kou shook his head, “I want to share it with you. But not here.”

  Amy tilted her head. “Where then?”

  “The meadow.”

  The apple pie was carefully packed, and Kou led Amy, his small hand tugging hers, almost dancing with excitement. They crossed through the village’s winding streets, over a small stone bridge, past a clear stream reflecting the afternoon sky. Amy let herself absorb the beauty, but mostly, she watched Kou — how easily joy radiated from him, how much he cherished every step.

  When they reached the meadow, Kou’s excitement burst wide open. He ran, spinning in circles, arms outstretched like an airplane. Amy tried to keep up.

  “Slow down, son! You’ll ruin the pie!”

  Kou laughed louder, tripping over his own feet and tumbling into the grass.

  “Kou!” Amy rushed over, heart racing. His face was smudged with dirt and grass, his knee scraped raw.

  “Haha, sorry! Got too excited.”

  “You’re bleeding,” Amy knelt down, already pulling disinfectant from her bag. “We need to clean that up.”

  They settled beneath a lone tree — its branches wide and protective. Amy gently cleaned the wound, her hands unexpectedly tender. As she wrapped the bandage, she realized: some part of her couldn’t bear to see this boy lose his smile. His innocence. She didn’t understand why. She just knew.

  “There, all clear.”

  “Hehe, thanks!”

  “Look at you — a mess already,” Amy teased, brushing leaves from his hair and wiping dirt from his cheek with her napkin.

  Kou beamed. “I always wanted to run in a meadow, like in cartoons and books. It’s even better than I imagined!”

  Amy smiled softly, opening the box. “Ready for pie?”

  “Yeah!”

  Kou took a bite first, humming in delight. “It’s perfect!”

  Amy hesitated, staring at the piece in her hand. A strange fear gnawed at her chest — as if this bite might open something she wasn’t ready to face. But she couldn’t stop herself.

  She took the bite.

  A breeze swept through, leaves dancing around them. Amy froze. Her hand trembled slightly, the taste unlocking a door she didn’t know existed.

  Music. Soft, distant. A Scottish lullaby.

  Her mother’s voice.

  She couldn’t remember the words, but the melody wrapped around her like an old blanket — the kind that smelled faintly of home.

  The vision came without warning — a younger Amy running through a meadow, her mother’s laughter chasing her. She fell, scraping her forehead. Tears spilled, but her mother knelt beside her, smiling.

  “I have a little magic,” her mother whispered, kissing her forehead. “Mother’s love — the strongest magic in the world.”

  Amy, the child, called her a ‘ripoff artist’. They both laughed.

  Reality blurred back in. Kou was leaning against her shoulder, humming softly — the exact same melody. Amy’s hand found his hair, ruffling it gently.

  Without thinking, guided by instinct older than her spy training, she leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Kou’s forehead — the same way her mother once did.

  Kou blinked up at her, surprised but warm, his cheeks turning faintly pink.

  “Amy? What was that?” he asked softly.

  “Mother’s love,” Amy whispered—not even fully understanding why the words came to her, but they felt right.

  For a moment, it was enough. Just this.

  Her earpiece crackled faintly—a static reminder of the world outside the meadow.

  She knew already.

  Amy stood, her warmth fading into cold focus.

  “I have to go, Kou. I’ll be right back.”

  Kou sat up, confused. “What about the pie?”

  “You can have all you like. Be good until I get back.”

  Her smile lingered, soft and motherly—before she turned, her face hardening into the Void.

  She sprinted across the meadow, her eyes sharp, scanning for the hitmen she knew were already nearby.

  Amy raised her binoculars, scanning the rooftops along the edge of the meadow. There—she spotted the sniper shifting into position atop a small countryside building, the kind with weathered stone walls and a slanted roof. If the Sanctuary operator hadn’t warned her, she might’ve walked straight into the crosshairs. But now, she knew exactly what to do.

  Without hesitation, she tossed a smoke grenade into the meadow itself. The canister hissed, releasing a thick plume of white smoke that quickly spread across the grass like creeping fog.

  Amy moved instantly — low to the ground, gliding swiftly between cover. Sometimes crawling, sometimes sprinting. To the naked eye, she wasn’t a person anymore — just a phantom weaving through the mist.

  Up on the roof, the sniper jolted. “Shit—where is she!?”

  Below, two gunmen were already splitting up, the thick fog isolating them from each other. Their nerves frayed, fingers trembling on the triggers. This wasn’t a fight anymore. They had stepped into the Void’s domain.

  Beads of sweat trickled down their necks.

  Meanwhile, Kou sat peacefully beneath the tree, completely unaware of the storm around him. He hummed his favorite lullaby from his beloved cartoon show, swinging his legs and saving the last few slices of apple pie for Amy. The mist creeping across the meadow felt like a fairytale, and Kou stretched out his hand, trying to touch the fog like they were soft clouds.

  But the hitmen saw something entirely different.

  Both gunmen switched on their flashlights on their guns, beams slicing through the smoke in frantic arcs. Their breathing grew erratic, the silence gnawing at their sanity. The Void could be anywhere.

  Then it happened — a shadow flickered past.

  Before the first man could scream, a black sword slid clean across his throat. Blood sprayed into the smoke, vanishing before it even hit the ground. Amy slipped back into the mist without a sound.

  The second gunman spun wildly, flashlight swinging. He saw a blur—fired immediately—but hit nothing.

  Suddenly, a sharp kick smashed into his arm, sending his weapon clattering across the ground. He swung a desperate punch, but Amy caught it, twisting his wrist and flipping him hard into the dirt. Before he could recover, her blade came down — piercing his neck in a clean, brutal finish.

  Two down.

  Amy turned her attention to the sniper. Still hidden on the rooftop, the sniper had lost all contact with the gunmen. She swept her scope left and right, desperately trying to track anything through the smoke. But the meadow was quiet now—too quiet. Suddenly, a whisper curled into her ear.

  “Welcome to the Void.”

  The sniper screamed, firing every round left in her clip—bullets screaming into empty air. But no one was there.

  Before her mind could even process the silence, Amy’s sword spun through the air, embedding itself straight into her throat. The sniper’s body slumped against the roof’s edge, her weapon clattering down into the grass below.

  The meadow fell silent again.

  Amy stood for a moment, breathing steadily as the fog began to clear. In her hands, the twin black swords glinted faintly under the fading light—silent witnesses to her work. Without a word, she wiped the blades clean against the hem of her sleeve, then slid them back into their custom black box lined with deep red velvet. Each sword fit snugly into place, a perfect home for the tools she had long mastered. She closed the box, tucked it into her bag, and slung it over her shoulder. She touched her earpiece, her voice low and cold.

  “Targets eliminated. En route to Birmingham. I’ll meet the contact tomorrow at midnight.”

  Without waiting for confirmation, she descended back toward the lone tree, where Kou was still humming softly to himself, blissfully unaware that death had passed right through his meadow, only to vanish before his eyes.