The ride from the station had been surprisingly pleasant. Shun found it easy to converse with Kawakami, slipping effortlessly into casual chatter that drew out a few soft chuckles from her along the way.
When they arrived, Shun stepped out of the car, his sharp gaze settling on Kawakami's residence. His eyes lingered on the humble home, and a smirk tugged at the edge of his lips.
"This place's got more charm than I expected," he said, pulling his suitcase from the trunk.
"The pictures didn't do it justice. Kind of like someone else I know."
Kawakami blinked, caught off guard.
"Huh? Are you comparing me to my house?"
"Well, you're both easy on the eyes and probably full of surprises." He gave her a small wink before turning toward the front door.
She let out an embarrassed huff, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Don't try charming your way into free rent."
"No promises," he grinned, rolling his suitcase as she guided him inside.
A short walk later, Kawakami opened the door to a modest guest room. It was simple—clean bed, fresh sheets, a desk with a soft-lit lamp. Basic, but cozy.
"This'll be your room. Sorry it's a little bare right now. You can decorate it however you like," Kawakami offered.
"It's perfect. Quiet, cozy… and right next to a lovely landlord. I think I'll sleep like a baby."
Kawakami shook her head, though the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her.
"I'll leave you to unpack. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything. Dinner should be ready soon."
"Thanks. Looking forward to seeing what you cook up. Bet it's just as good as you look in that blazer."
She paused at the doorway, clearly flustered, then quickly stepped out.
"Lock the door if you're going to say things like that!"
Already halfway through doing so, Shun chuckled to himself and turned the lock with a soft click.
"Already ahead of you."Shun shook his head and walked over to his suitcase. He unzipped it smoothly, revealing neatly folded clothes on top.
Beneath them, nestled in a false bottom compartment, gleamed a small stash of gold coins—ancient and pristine, each stamped with cryptic emblems used as underworld currency.
'Should probably drop by the Japan branch of the Continental soon,' he mused, brushing a coin with his thumb before closing the hidden compartment.
He began unpacking, hanging up shirts, lining up shoes, and placing a few personal effects on the desk. This was just the first wave—his weapons and specialized tools would arrive tomorrow via more discreet methods. For now, he was settling in.
A soft knock echoed from the door.
"Dinner's ready," Kawakami's voice called gently from the other side.
Shun stood, gave the room a final once-over, then unlocked and opened the door. Kawakami was there with a curious smile.
"Finished unpacking already?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, slipping on a relaxed grin.
"Now I'm excited to eat you."
She froze, her expression a mix of shock and confusion.
"E–excuse me?"
"I said I'm excited to eat your dinner," he corrected smoothly, flashing a devilish glint in his eyes.
Kawakami's face flushed crimson as she turned away with a soft grumble.
"Don't say it like that, idiot…"
But even as she marched off toward the kitchen, a small smile tugged at her lips. For once, dinner wouldn't be a quiet, lonely affair—and maybe, just maybe, a little more excitement wasn't so bad.
Shun laughed softly, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I apologize, Miss Kawakami. I'll behave… for now."
He followed her into the dining area near the kitchen, his eyes falling on the meal she'd prepared. A warm, modest Japanese dinner was set on the table—grilled fish, miso soup, rice, and a few side dishes.
"Wow," Shun said as he took in the sight.
"Looks like I hit the jackpot. I haven't seen a home-cooked meal like this in a while."
Kawakami smiled, trying to hide the pride in her voice. "It's nothing fancy. Just something quick I whipped up."
"Well, your 'quick' looks better than what half the five-star chefs make," Shun said smoothly as he pulled out a chair and sat down.
"Seriously, if you cook like this every day, your future husband's gonna be the luckiest man alive."
Kawakami paused, chopsticks halfway to her mouth, and flushed again. "You really don't know how to shut up, do you?"
Shun chuckled and picked up his own chopsticks. "Nope. But I do know when to eat."
"Good," she muttered, trying to suppress a grin.
"Then less talking, more chewing."
He gave her a playful salute with his chopsticks.
"Yes, ma'am."
As they ate, a quiet comfort settled between them, broken only by the clinking of dishes and the occasional soft laugh.
Kawakami handed him the spare keys with a small frown.
"Don't lose these. I won't be running after you if you do."
Shun gave her a playful grin and slipped the keys into his pocket.
"Don't worry, I'm usually pretty good at keeping track of important things," he said, a touch of teasing in his voice.
Kawakami raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but let it slide.
"So, what made you choose my place to rent? It's not exactly the most convenient area."
Shun's smile softened, and he leaned back slightly in his chair, adopting a more casual tone.
"Well, your place seemed like a great fit. Plus, knowing you're a teacher... it'll help me adjust to the school. Someone I can go to if I ever have any questions, you know?"
Kawakami blinked, surprised at his answer.
"That's a pretty practical reason."
"Yeah," he nodded.
"And it helps that you're easy to talk to."
Kawakami's face flushed slightly, though she quickly tried to hide it behind a more neutral expression.
"Well, if you do need help with school stuff, don't hesitate to ask."
Shun nodded again, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he looked down at his hands, fiddling with the edge of his napkin.
"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."
Kawakami continued, clearly curious.
"What about your life before you came here? What did you do? You don't look like someone who's had a simple life."
Shun's smile became slightly more guarded as he thought for a moment.
"Odd jobs here and there, nothing too special. Paid well, though." He leaned forward slightly, keeping his tone casual.
"I've been in a lot of places, so I learned to adapt quickly. Since I was an orphan, I kind of raised myself."
Kawakami nodded, seemingly understanding, but there was a flicker of doubt in her eyes.
"That must've been tough."
"It was… but it taught me a lot," Shun said, his voice almost unreadable.
"Anyway, I've got my own way of getting by."
In truth, the story he told her was nothing more than a carefully constructed lie, a mask to hide the truth about who he really was. But Shun knew how to weave a believable tale, and this was simply a fake background that he made since in reality, Shun is a top class hitman.
Time passed quickly, and Shun awoke the next morning with a deep stretch, feeling the cool air of the early 5 AM. It was part of his daily routine—one he'd followed for years. Rising from his bed, he stood tall, his bulging muscles rippling as he stretched. His body was nearly flawless, with hardly any scars, a testament to his rigorous training under the Hercules Method that gave him absolute control over his physical form.
As he stood there, his back to the mirror, a tattoo caught his eye—an intricate design on his back, the Russian script reading: "Мёртвые молчат", which roughly translated to "Dead men are silence." It was a saying that mirrored the old adage "Dead men tell no tales."
He smirked at the thought.
"Man, this might raise a few eyebrows if anyone sees it, but whatever."
Shun shrugged it off, well aware of how tattoos were viewed in Japan. In the past, tattoos were linked with criminals, particularly the Yakuza, since ancient times. Criminals used them as a form of identification, and over time, the practice became a tradition among the Yakuza families. Shun had encountered Yakuza before—he knew that, much like any gang, they had a complex structure. They followed their own code of honor, and while the top criminals weren't exactly good people, they weren't entirely heartless either.
Shaking his head slightly, Shun refocused and started his morning exercises. He pushed through each movement, his muscles working in perfect harmony with the Hercules Method. His breathing was steady, controlled—every breath fueling his body's maximum efficiency.
The sweat began to bead on his skin, but even that was methodical, each drop falling in rhythm as he continued his training without wasting a single ounce of energy. It was a process of refinement, a routine he knew well, and one he had mastered to perfection.
After finishing his morning training, Shun made his way to the bathroom, stripping off his sweat-drenched clothes and stepping into a cold shower. The water washed away the heat and grime from his workout, leaving his body refreshed and sharp for the day ahead.
Soon after, he wandered into the kitchen, towel-drying his hair with one hand as he opened the fridge and pantry with the other. A quick scan of the ingredients confirmed what he needed—more than enough to whip up a proper Shakshuka.
Humming a light tune under his breath, Shun moved with practiced ease, chopping vegetables, cracking eggs, and toasting bread on the side. The kitchen gradually filled with the warm, savory aroma of tomatoes, garlic, and spices simmering in the pan.
Upstairs, Kawakami stirred awake with a tired yawn. Her limbs stretched reflexively as she rubbed her eyes and shuffled to her feet. She hadn't even made it to the bathroom when the smell hit her—rich, spicy, and absolutely mouthwatering. Her drowsiness vanished like a fog under sunlight.
Curious and a little surprised, she made her way downstairs, only to pause in the doorway of the kitchen.
There he was—Shun—standing over the stove, humming as he cooked, wearing a snug T-shirt that clung to his toned upper body and a pair of loose shorts. The light of dawn filtered through the window, casting him in a strangely domestic glow that caught her off-guard.
Her eyes lingered for a moment too long on the muscles in his arms as he stirred the pan with ease.
'What would it be like to be held by those arms…?'
She blinked rapidly and shook the thought away, cheeks flushing.
Shun noticed her presence and flashed a teasing grin. "Morning, Miss Kawakami. Hope you don't mind—I made breakfast."
Caught off-guard, Kawakami cleared her throat and tried to compose herself. "Y-You didn't have to do that. But… thank you. It smells amazing."
Shun shrugged casually, plating the food. "Cooking's a hobby of mine. Better than starting the day hungry, right?"
She took a seat at the small dining table, her eyes drawn to the vibrant, bubbling dish he placed before her.
"What is this?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"Shakshuka," he replied, sitting across from her.
"Middle Eastern dish. Eggs poached in a sauce of tomatoes, chili peppers, and onions. Scoop it up with bread like this."
He demonstrated, tearing a piece of toast and dipping it into the sauce with practiced flair.
Kawakami mimicked him, cautiously taking her first bite. Her eyes widened in surprise.
"This… this is incredible! And it's so simple?"
Shun chuckled, clearly flattered. "Glad you like it. Simple doesn't mean boring. Sometimes, the best things are."
With the morning light pouring in and quiet laughter exchanged over bites of shakshuka.