"Not every reunion is meant to heal. Some come to destroy."
Lena stepped onto the balcony, needing a breath of air and a break from the pulsing energy of the club. Her sleek emerald dress hugged her curves perfectly, and her long, straight hair shimmered with each movement. The gold accents on her heels clicked softly against the tile as she leaned against the railing.
She wasn't alone for long.
"You clean up dangerously well," came a smooth voice behind her.
She turned, one brow raised, catching sight of R.K. He had ditched his jacket, leaving him in a dark dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, the fabric fitted across a lean, muscled frame. His long braid rested over one shoulder, catching a soft glow from the lights.
Lena tilted her head. "R.K., right?"
"Right. You're Nala's best friend."
"And you're the mysterious stranger who knows more than he says." She smirked, turning back to the view. "Figures you'd find the quietest spot in here."
"Old habit. Watching people works better from the edges."
"Is that what you're doing now? Watching me?"
A beat passed. "Can you blame me?"
She turned slightly, meeting his gaze. "Is that your line for every girl on a balcony?"
"Only the ones who make a little green dress look like a threat."
That earned a small, genuine laugh from her. "You're smoother than I expected."
"Comes with the job." He moved beside her, leaning on the railing. "You don't strike me as someone who does 'quiet.'"
She shrugged, a sly smile curling on her lips. "You'd be surprised what I can do when no one's watching."
Their eyes met, tension slipping in like a tide neither of them resisted.
Then Lena chuckled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "So, R.K.—is that your real name or just the cool, mysterious version?"
He smiled, eyes still on her. "Why don't you stick around and find out?"
Kazuya's hand rested just above Nala's hip as they swayed to the rhythm, the jazz club humming around them in moody golds and deep shadows. The saxophone crooned as if it had a secret to tell.
"You still remember how to move," he murmured near her ear, voice a low hum.
"I don't forget the basics," Nala replied with a smirk, tilting her head up slightly, eyes gleaming. She was playful but poised—her usual nonchalance slipping into something more teasing.
At their booth, Hikaru leaned back, drink in hand, jaw set in stone. His eyes never left the floor—but especially not her. Not the way her curls framed her face. Not the way Kazuya's hand gripped her waist like he had every right to.
He didn't notice the woman until she sat beside him.
"You're too fine to be looking that serious," she said, smiling as she crossed one leg over the other. She wore a sleek black dress, hair pinned up, lips red.
He glanced at her. "I'm fine."
"Clearly," she purred, brushing her fingers along his arm. "But are you fun?"
He smirked a little, trying to be polite, but the tension tugging at his chest wouldn't let up. "Sometimes."
On the floor, Kazuya spun Nala gently, her red dress flaring around her legs before she landed smoothly back in his arms, closer now. Their faces were inches apart.
"You look... incredible tonight, Nala. Always did have that fire," he said, his eyes lingering.
Nala tilted her head, lips curving. "Careful. Fire burns."
"Some of us like the heat."
Hikaru's grip tightened on his glass.
The woman next to him leaned in again. "So... you here with someone?"
He looked at her, eyes hard but calm. "No."
But his gaze flicked back to the floor—to her—and the lie sat sharp on his tongue.
From the booth, Hikaru exhaled slowly through his nose.
The woman beside him leaned closer, clearly emboldened. "So then, you want to dance?" she asked, voice soft with promise.
His jaw ticked. Nala's laughter floated over, light and unbothered, like whatever Kazuya said had hit the mark.
Hikaru stood, ignoring the surprised lift of the woman's brows.
"Sure," he said, extending a hand to her. "Let's dance."
The second he stepped onto the floor, he made sure he passed by their side of it.
Nala's gaze flicked up just in time to catch the woman wrapping her arm around Hikaru's neck, drawing close. He dipped his head, low enough that it looked intimate—too intimate. She blinked.
Kazuya followed her line of sight and chuckled. "Jealousy looks interesting on him."
Nala turned her head slightly, bold smirk curving her lips. "Jealousy assumes he cares."
But her spine had straightened just slightly. And her grip on Kazuya's hand tightened.
Hikaru didn't even know why he was doing it—his moves were sharp, controlled, but his eyes were somewhere else entirely. The woman whispered something in his ear, and he gave a faint smile, but his gaze never left Nala.
Kazuya leaned in close to her ear, voice dropping just enough. "Tell me something... is he always watching you like that?"
Nala's laugh was soft—slow. "Only when he thinks I'm not watching him back."
The city lights glimmered like stars had scattered down to earth. The group had returned to their table, laughter still lingering in the air from the night's earlier fun. R.K and Lena shared a plate of dessert, the vibe between them soft and quietly blooming.
Nala sipped her drink, cheeks still flushed from dancing. Kazuya leaned closer.
"Walk with me?" he asked, voice low.
Lena raised a brow but didn't speak. Hikaru looked up from his glass, jaw ticking. Nala gave a soft smirk and stood.
"Don't wait up."
The two slipped out of the club, strolling down a nearby alley lined with glowing lanterns and brick walls soaked in city warmth. The air was quieter now, distant jazz melting into background hums.
"You remember that summer by the river?" Kazuya said, sliding his hands into his pockets.
Nala chuckled softly. "When you fell in trying to impress me with that backflip?"
"I was young. And very in love with you."
She paused at that, but the curve of her lips didn't fade. "You were smooth even then."
He stopped walking, and so did she. The streetlamps cast a soft golden hue over her face. She was stunning. Strong. But for a second, her guard was down—nostalgia washing over her.
"I never stopped thinking about you," Kazuya whispered as he looked into her eyes.
And then he kissed her.
It was slow at first, familiar. Soft. Her lips moved with his before her brain caught up with her heart. She pulled back slightly, eyes searching his.
Something shifted.
Kazuya's smile dimmed. "I'm sorry."
Her brows furrowed. "For wha—"
Shuffle.
Men stepped from the shadows—silent, cloaked, precise. Half a dozen of them, surrounding the alley like thieves in the night.
Nala's eyes widened. She took a step back, instinct kicking in. "Kazuya?"
He didn't meet her eyes. "They said if I brought you here... they'd let me walk."
"The Lotus," she said quietly.
POV: Hikaru
He leaned back in his chair, drink untouched in his hand. R.K. was saying something, Lena smiling faintly, but Hikaru barely heard a word.
He watched the two disappear through the glowing doorway.
Kazuya.
Something about that guy didn't sit right with him. Too charming. Too easy. Too... nostalgic. Hikaru's jaw clenched.
A few minutes passed before the urge became too much. He muttered something about fresh air and slipped out, sticking to the shadows as he tracked them.
He found them down an alley—lit only by soft lanterns, casting a warm glow across Nala's skin.
She laughed.
He stopped in his tracks.
Then—Kazuya leaned in. Close.
Too close.
And kissed her.
Hikaru's hand gripped the side of the building, knuckles turning white. He couldn't breathe for a second.
Something hot flared in his chest—jealousy, anger, confusion. Why do I care? he asked himself, but the answer never came.
Only the ache.
Only the fury.
Then Kazuya spoke.
"I'm sorry."
Hikaru's eyes narrowed. That didn't sound like a man caught up in a moment. That sounded like—
And then the shadows moved.
Weapons gleamed.
Without hesitation, Hikaru stepped into the light—blade already drawn, rage already pulsing in his veins.
He didn't know what Kazuya meant to her.
But he knew this: Nala wasn't going down. Not with him here.
His nod was barely visible. "I didn't want it to be like this, Nala. But you're dangerous to them. You always have been."
She blinked fast. Betrayal sank like a blade to her gut. Her fists clenched. "And here I thought you were just bold enough to try and win me back."
The goons stepped forward.
CLANG.
A blade slashed through the silence—fast, brutal, and final. One man dropped instantly.
Nala turned.
Hikaru.
His eyes were glowing with fury, shirt slightly undone from the fight, hair wild from wind and rage. "Don't touch her."
He moved like a storm. Within seconds, the alley was chaos. Steel against steel. Shadows falling.
Kazuya's smirk faltered.
"You shouldn't be here—"
"I am," Hikaru cut him off. "And you just made your last mistake."
The alley erupted.
Steel clashed. Fists cracked bone. Hikaru moved like a shadow unchained—feral, silent, ruthless. Three men down before Nala even pulled her blade.
Kazuya lunged for her—still fast—but this time, her guard was up. Her fury met his betrayal head-on, but it was Hikaru's blade that drove through his side, halting everything.
Kazuya's eyes widened. Blood spilled.
"I really... thought you'd come with me," he muttered to Nala, collapsing.
Silence fell.
Nala stood there, shaking. She hadn't seen it coming—not from Kazuya. She'd let her guard down.
Just for a moment.
And it nearly cost her everything.