Renjiro lingered in the abandoned shipping district long after The Ghost had vanished, the cold night air settling around him. His fingers twitched, the remnants of adrenaline still pulsing through his veins. That was the most fun he’d had in a long time.

But beneath the thrill, there was something else—curiosity.

The Ghost had been watching him, but for how long? And more importantly, why? Whoever they were, they were leagues above the average fighters in this world. They moved with the efficiency of someone who had been trained—not just in Koi manipulation, but in something far deadlier. Assassination.

A familiar game.

And yet, their parting words echoed in his mind. “Unclear.”

Renjiro smirked to himself. “Guess I’ll just have to clear things up for them.”

His footsteps echoed against the pavement as he walked away, blending back into the city’s restless pulse.

An Old Friend’s Warning: Part 2

By the time Renjiro reached the Underground Network, dawn was creeping along the horizon. The hidden underbelly of the city never truly slept, but even it had quieter hours. Only a handful of figures lurked within the dimly lit corridors of the Gilded Serpent, a bar known for its discretion—and its clientele.

Kaito was exactly where Renjiro expected him to be, nursing a drink at the farthest booth. The moment Renjiro approached, Kaito exhaled heavily.

“I heard about your little performance,” Kaito muttered, swirling his glass lazily. “You really don’t know how to keep a low profile, do you?”

Renjiro slid into the seat across from him, smirking. “What can I say? I like making new friends.”

Kaito gave him a flat look. “That wasn’t a friend. That was a warning.”

Renjiro leaned forward. “Then why didn’t they kill me?”

Kaito went silent.

That was the real question, wasn’t it? The Ghost had the opportunity to end things right there. But they hadn’t.

“They’re testing you,” Kaito said at last. “Trying to understand what you are.”

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Renjiro hummed in thought. “And what am I, Kaito?”

Kaito’s silver eyes darkened slightly. He didn’t answer immediately, and for a fleeting moment, Renjiro saw something in his gaze. Not fear. Not concern. But recognition.

Kaito knew. Maybe not everything, but enough.

“…Something that shouldn’t exist,” Kaito finally muttered, finishing his drink.

Renjiro chuckled. “Now that’s dramatic.”

But the weight in Kaito’s expression didn’t lift. “Listen, Renjiro. If The Ghost is interested in you, that means someone else is pulling the strings. No one like them moves without a reason.”

Renjiro nodded. That much was obvious. This was bigger than just a chance encounter.

“So?” he asked. “What do you suggest?”

Kaito exhaled. “Lie low.”

Renjiro grinned. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Kaito pinched the bridge of his nose. “I figured.”

An Old Friend’s Warning: Part 3

Renjiro left the Gilded Serpent with more questions than answers, but that was nothing new.

Kaito’s warning lingered, but it wasn’t enough to deter him. If anything, it only fueled his desire to push forward.

He took the long way through the city, weaving between streets that felt both familiar and foreign. This world had changed. Evolved. But so had he.

And then—

A voice. Low. Amused.

“You don’t take warnings well, do you?”

Renjiro didn’t need to turn to know who it was. “If I did, I wouldn’t be here.”

The Ghost emerged from the shadows, their form blending seamlessly into the dim alleyway. Still masked. Still unreadable. But this time, they weren’t attacking.

Renjiro smirked. “Back for another round?”

The Ghost tilted their head slightly. “Not tonight.”

Renjiro raised a brow. “Shame. I was looking forward to it.”

A quiet chuckle. Then, “I have a question for you, Takatsuki.”

Renjiro crossed his arms. “I’m listening.”

The Ghost hesitated for a fraction of a second—almost imperceptible, but Renjiro caught it.

Then, they spoke.

“Who… are you?”

Something about the way they asked it felt different. As if the question carried weight beyond simple curiosity. As if it was something personal.

Renjiro’s smirk softened just slightly. “That’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

Renjiro held their gaze. He could lie. He could deflect. But something about this moment felt like a crossroads.

Instead, he chose honesty. Or at least, a piece of it.

“I’m someone who has lived far longer than he should have.”

A pause. Then, the Ghost nodded. “Then we are alike.”

Renjiro’s smirk faltered.

And in that moment, everything changed.