006

Mori's hands were bound tightly with rope, surrounded by a group of foreign men.

His face was battered, bruised from whatever had happened before.

Despite the situation, he spoke with a calm that was almost unnerving.

"I like this city, even with its dark side," Mori said, his voice smooth, but there was a sharp edge to it.

"But parasites like you disgust me."

His expression shifted, darkening into something threatening, his eyes growing black and dangerous, full of intent.

"And how about you, Fukuzawa-dono?" he asked, the words chilling as they left his lips.

The men around him froze, eyes darting toward each other.

One of them, a heavy set man with a furious sneer, turned around, shock evident on his face.

"No way! We had more than twenty guards outside!" he shouted in disbelief.

Fukuzawa's voice cut through the tension, casual yet deadly.

"Killed them all already," he said, as if it were no big deal.

"Wha-!?" Another man stammered, the words faltering in his throat as they glanced at Fukuzawa’s bloodied katana.

Their eyes then shifted toward you, also bloodied but standing perfectly fine beside him.

"D-Don't come any closer!! I'll kill this guy, I swear!!" The man who had been threatening Mori with a gun shouted, the muzzle aimed directly at Mori's forehead.

Fukuzawa’s expression didn’t change, though his brows furrowed slightly in frustration.

"Have fun," he said, voice flat, almost indifferent.

"How could you!?" Mori whined dramatically, his tone playful despite the dire circumstances.

"Will you cry if you die, Mori-san?" You smiled, even though your body still felt the strain of being carried by Fukuzawa earlier.

"L/N-kun! Not you too!" Mori exclaimed, looking almost betrayed.

Fukuzawa spoke again, his voice steady and calm, cutting through the confusion.

"You were just stalling until I arrived," he said matter of factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Mori, still bound, looked almost pleased.

"Doctor whose body emits a metallic thirst for blood," Fukuzawa continued, his words directed at the men.

That was when it happened.

Mori's face twisted into an eerie, unsettling smile. With one swift movement, the ropes binding his wrists fell away, as though they'd never been tied at all.

His arms moved with practiced ease, and before the men could even react, he swung a surgical knife with deadly accuracy, slashing through the necks of the three men surrounding him. Blood splattered in all directions as they crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

You watched, a smile playing on your lips, but Fukuzawa’s hand immediately blocked your view, his palm firmly covering your line of sight.

"Your bedside manner is atrocious," Fukuzawa said, his voice laced with disapproval as he looked at Mori.

Mori wiped the blood from his knife with a cloth, his expression unchanged, a faint grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"While I was pretending to be captured," he said, his voice now full of confidence,

"I found out where their base is. The time for 'retribution and counter attack' has come. All according to Natsume-sensei's plan."

Mori's smirk deepened as he cleaned his blade.

Fukuzawa’s eyes widened in realization, shock evident in his voice as he muttered, "Natsume-sensei's?"

You, still recovering from the earlier chaos, had slowly lowered Fukuzawa’s hand away from your view, glancing between him and Mori with confusion.

Who is this Natsume-sensei?

You followed them to the enemy’s base under a moon so full it lit the street like stage lights.

Shadows stretched long across the ground, and your fingers itched with anticipation.

There were more guards than expected.

You stepped forward, ready to vanish into their ranks and start cutting them down. Efficient, silent, easy.

But a hand blocked you.

“Stop,” Fukuzawa said, his voice low but firm, eyes never leaving the guards ahead.

Mori gave a soft chuckle behind him. “Maa, L/N-kun is accustomed to killing. You don’t have to worry about him.”

Fukuzawa didn’t look away from the front lines. “That’s exactly why I’m worried,” he said, his voice sharpened by something like disapproval.

“He’s a kid. He shouldn’t have to go through this.”

Mori lifted a shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Do as you please,” he said with that usual, unreadable smile.

You blinked, watching them both.

Fukuzawa so tense, Mori so relaxed. The contrast made you feel... small. Not weak. Just like a child. For a moment.

Then they moved.

Fukuzawa unsheathed his blade like water flowing over steel. Mori reached into his coat, the glint of surgical metal catching the moonlight.

Together, they cut through the enemy ranks in a graceful, brutal dance. Precise. Cold.

You didn’t need to lift a finger.

By the time you stepped inside, the place was silent. Warm blood still drying on the floor.

And there they were.

Mori and Fukuzawa, sitting casually atop a battered treasure chest like old friends after a long game.

Talking. Quietly. Calmly. As if this were nothing new. As if death had just been background noise.

You walked over and plopped down between them.

Neither said anything. Mori passed you a glance and a smirk. Fukuzawa sighed through his nose.

You listened in, trying to follow the conversation.

Politics. Strategy. Something about contacts, and alliances, and ideological conflict. Blah blah blah.

You didn’t understand a word of it.

Was this how adults always talked?

So boring.

You leaned back against the chest, eyes drifting up toward the ceiling.

Another day passed. Another bloodstain dried. Another boring adult conversation you didn’t care about.

But still, you stayed.

Right between them.

Fukuzawa left not long after that day.

But before he did, he crouched down in front of you, his gaze steady, calm as always.

“You don’t have to stay here,” he said, his voice quiet but clear.

“If you ever want another path… come with me.”

Right in front of Mori.

The doctor didn’t flinch. He just smiled. Easy, unreadable, with that maddening calm he wore like a second skin.

He didn’t seem threatened. Didn’t even blink.

You stared at Fukuzawa for a long moment. Then gave your answer with a shrug.

“No. You’re boring.”

There was a short silence.

Then—

“Heh.”

Mori snickered, covering his mouth with the back of his hand like it was a medical cough.

But you weren’t finished.

You tilted your head, voice as light as your smile.

“But you’re more handsome than Mori-san.”

The reaction was immediate. Mori’s laughter cut off. His smile froze. His eye twitched.

You could hear the offense register in his bones.

“L/N-kun,” Mori said stiffly, “flattery should precede betrayal. Not the other way around.”

Fukuzawa didn’t even blink.

He just gave you a small nod, as if the compliment and insult cancelled each other out.

“If you ever change your mind,” he said, rising to his feet, “you know where to find me.”

And just like that, he turned and walked away, sword at his side, coat billowing with the wind.

You looked after him for a moment.

Then turned back to Mori.

“I still like you better,” you added.

Mori muttered something under his breath about children and emotional sabotage.

You smiled.

Another day, another casualty.

And somehow, the world kept turning.