Tokyo, Japan
Shigeyoshi residence, Kichijoji neighborhood, located in the west of Tokyo.
June 18, 2026
10:01 AM 23° Celcius/73°4 Fahrenheit
Back at the Shigeyoshi residence, the sunlight dripped lazily through the large windows of the house. The air was so tranquil, eerily so, as if the world outside had decided to pause, just for a moment.
Ray sat on the long leather couch, legs crossed, a book in one hand and black porcelain cup in the other. The steam from his coffee rose slowly, mingling with the faint scent of cedarwood and cinnamon lingering in the air.
He looked at peace. Composed, but only someone who truly knew him would recognize that his eyes, hawking, cold, calculating eyes, were scanning every page while his ears listened to every creak of the house.
Across the room, Izanami was folding his clothes. A simple act, domestic, almost warm.....
...in exchange for using Ray's clothes without his permission.
Her movements were precise, almost ceremonial, yet there was a softness to the way her fingers brushed against the fabric of his shirts. She didn't speak, she didn't hum, but her thoughts were louder than words.
'He's the nephew of the Queen of England, the son of the most poweful woman on Earth, the Matriach....and here I am, folding his socks'
She glanced at him again, stealing a moment to observe the sharp lines of his jaw, the calm of his face, the gravity of his silence.
Five years ago, when she met him...he was still barely an adult.
Green.
Quiet.
Inexperienced.
Scrawny.
Now?
He was a man with steel in his bones. A shadow of command. A threat wrapped in silk. A devil dressed as a man.
And yet...he'd let her stay.
He didn't ask questions, didn't treat her like a guest, didn't remind her what she owed.
She wanted to give back, in the only way she knew how. Serve in silence, be useful.
Still folding, she stole another glance. But this time, she wasn't the only one watching.
"Your hands are trembling." Ray said, eyes still on the book.
"I-its nothing. Just cold fingers." Izanami froze, caught.
Ray didn't reply, he knew it wasn't cold.
Suddenly, the door from Ray's bedroom creaked open.
Akane shuffled in, still in her oversized pink hoodie, her hair messy, eyes half-lidded with sleep. She looked like a child lost in a dream.
Ray looked up, concern washing over his face. "Akane-chan, you okay?"
She blinked once, then smiled. A small, sweet, grateful thing. And without warning, she rushed towards him, wrapping her arms around his torso and burying her face into his chest.
Ray tensed.
He wasn't used to affection. Not like this.
But he didn't pull away.
He closed the book, set the cup aside, and rested a hand gently on her back.
"It's over. I won't let it happen again." He murmured.
"Arigato, Ray-kun. Arigato gozaimasu." Akane's voice was soft and muffled.
Izanami paused, mid-fold. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched them. The warmth of the moment, the intimacy - stabbed at her with a strange, unwelcome pain.
She imagined, just for a momentm..if that was her.
If she was the one held in his arms.
But no.
She wasn't that close. She couldn't be.
She looked away, her fingers gripping the next shirt tighter than necessary.
Then-
A loud crack shattered the calm.
The sound of glass breaking.
Someone shot at them...
Ray's instincts kicked in the lightning.
"DOWN!" He shouted.
Before Akane could flinch, Ray had already grabbed her and pulled her behind the couch.
Another crack followed - something struck the floor, bouncing and skidding near the kitchen tiles.
Izanami dove to the side, rolling behind the marble island in a blink.
Another crack..
Then another..
Four shots...
Five shots..
All hitting nothing...
No blood, no broken skin, no real damage.
Ray peeked from behind the couch. His senses heightened. Everything slowed down in his mind. Sound, wind direction, vibration, position.
He scanned the floor where the bullet had rolled.
His eyes narrowed.
He crawled quickly, picked one up.
And blinked.
"What the fuck...?" He muttered.
The bullet wasn't real.
It was plastic.
A toy bullet.
Colorful, childish, harmless.
He held it between two fingers, his expression unreadable. Akane looked up at him, confused, scared. Izanami crawled toward him, staying low.
"Ray...you've been hit?" She asked.
Ray shook his head.
"No. Someone's screwing with us." He said.
He stood slowly, holding the fake bullet up in the light.
"This isn't a warning." He uttered, his voice low.
Izanami frowned. "Then what is it?"
Ray's eyes darkened.
"This is a message."
His jaw tightened as he turned toward the window where the shots had come from. The glass was cracked but not shattered. The shooter hadn't meant to hit them, not even to scare them
Just to signal something??
Or really trying to screw them up....