The afternoon sun spilled over the concrete like a lazy beast. The skatepark buzzed with distant shouts, the scraping grind of wheels on metal, and the occasional clang of a failed trick. But in the middle of the chaos, two guys moved like they owned the place.
Akihiro and Kenji.
Akihiro wore a loose baggy hoodie with a forest-green lining, unzipped to reveal a pale yellow tee that read "Not My Problem." His black cargo pants sagged slightly at the waist, the straps swinging with every turn, and his white high-tops were smudged with streaks of dirt and wear from skating every damn day. His hair swung around his head, tilting with every movement, giving him that effortless "I-don't-care-but-I-still-look-good" vibe.
Kenji, on the other hand, dressed like the cover of a punk rock album. Baggy, black sweatpants barely holding together around his knees, a red and black shortsleeved shirt open to show a black tank top beneath, and a silver chain bouncing with every move. His hands were covered in scabs and fading bruises—either from fights or wipeouts. Not the Japanese style but both akihiro and Kenji had stayed up all night trying to find the perfect American look for skateboarding.
"Holy shit, did you see that flip?" Kenji yelled mid-ride, launching off a ramp and spinning with reckless abandon.
Akihiro lazily spun past him and smirked. "Yeah. You almost didn't eat shit this time."
Kenji rolled his eyes and coasted to a stop. "You wish. I'm built different."
"Built loud, more like."
They skated for another thirty minutes before the heat started settling into their skin. Kenji wiped the sweat off his brow and muttered, "Alright fuck this, I need sugar or I'm gonna die."
"Finally. I thought you'd never stop talking," Akihiro said, casually sliding off his board and tucking it under his arm.
They made their way to a nearby supermarket, still in their skate clothes. The automatic doors hissed open, and Kenji immediately bee-lined for the drinks section while Akihiro walked with that same chill gait toward the freezer aisle.
Kenji cracked open a can of some cheap neon-blue soda and took a loud swig.
"Goddamn, that's disgusting. I love it."
Akihiro stood in front of the freezer, staring blankly at the rows of popsicles and mochi ice cream.
"Are you… actually reading the labels?" Kenji asked, peering over.
"Trying to figure out what flavor screams emotional stability," Akihiro deadpanned.
He settled for a matcha ice cream bar and tore off the wrapper right there, taking a bite like the world wasn't on fire around them.
"Y'know," Kenji said with a smirk, "I think this is the most domestic we've ever been."
"I know," Akihiro replied, mouth full of ice cream. "It's disturbing."
They walked toward the front of the store, still bantering, when Kenji's head snapped toward the sidewalk outside.
"Holy shit."
"What?"
Kenji pointed with his soda can, eyes glued to two figures walking past the glass windows. "Look."
Kaede and Mai.
Kaede walked with that same quiet elegance she always did—composed, unreadable, graceful without effort. A black t shirt tucked into charcoal slacks, combat boots, hair tied into a clean low ponytail. She didn't need to draw attention. She just had it.
Mai, beside her, wore something flashier—a red windbreaker over denim shorts, with big sunglasses pushed up into her hair. She was talking animatedly while Kaede mostly nodded, her responses clipped and minimal.
"Today's the day," Kenji muttered, slamming his soda down on the checkout counter. "I'm making my move."
Akihiro raised an eyebrow. "You sure? She's turned down every guy in the syndicate. Some of them cried."
Kenji grinned. "Yeah, but they weren't me."
And with that, he walked out, full of chaotic energy and overconfidence. As the door slid open, he approached the girls with the swagger of a man who thought very highly of himself.
"Kaede!" he called out. "Hey."
Kaede stopped walking. Her gaze shifted to Kenji. Neutral. Calm.
Mai rolled her eyes. "Oh, great. The loudmouth." The second they met yesterday they didn't like each other.
Kenji stopped in front of them and gave Mai a full-blown, theatrical sigh.
"Oh no, it talks."
Mai scoffed. "You're such an asshole."
Kenji didn't even blink. "Yeah, but I'm a hot asshole."
Kaede blinked once, lips barely twitching. Kenji turned his attention entirely to her, ignoring Mai like she didn't exist.
"You out here walking the streets lookin' like a quiet storm? Damn, Kaede. I'll treat that body like a shrine?"
Mai gaped. "Seriously?"
"Wasn't talking to you. No man's ever gonna talk to you this way"
Mai opened her mouth again, but Akihiro slid up beside her, still licking his matcha bar.
"Hey, Mai," he said, flashing his trademark lazy grin. "You ever try to guess what flavor someone would be if they were ice cream?"
Mai blinked at him. "…What?"
And just like that, Kenji and Kaede were walking ahead, alone.
"Smooth," Kenji muttered under his breath.
Kaede walked beside him, silent as always.
"So," Kenji said, kicking a pebble down the sidewalk, "are you always this… uh… mysterious and cold, or is that just for me?"
Kaede didn't answer at first. He glanced at her sideways.
"Not much of a talker, huh?"
She finally spoke, her voice calm. "No."
"Well, damn. You're already the most interesting person I've met today."
She didn't respond, but she didn't walk away either.
Kenji stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Look, I'm not gonna bullshit you. Most guys are afraid of you. They talk about how you don't give them the time of day, how cold you are. Personally, I think you just haven't met me."
Kaede tilted her head slightly. She didn't say it but what those other men lacked was confidence, they were always scared and often stammered. But kenji had a lot of it. She liked a man to be dominant and confident.
"So let me toss my hat in the ring anyway," Kenji said. "Name's Kenji. I'm kind of a pain in the ass."
She didn't laugh, but her eyes seemed to soften.
"I've been in the umbra division for like two days. Assassin. You name it. I just wanna have dinner."
He paused, then looked at her straight.
"So what do you say? Wanna grab food sometime? Maybe tonight?"
A beat passed.
Then—
"Alright," Kaede said simply.
Kenji froze. "Wait—seriously?"
She nodded once.
Kenji blinked, then clenched his fists like he'd just won a championship.
"Fuck yes," he whispered under his breath, turning away with a wide-ass grin.
Kaede walked beside him in silence, and he let it be that way. For now.
Back near the storefront, Akihiro was still chatting with Mai, now somehow mid-conversation about how popsicle flavors reflected personality types.
"And strawberry is just the vanilla of the fruit world," he said.
Mai narrowed her eyes. "What the hell does that even mean?"
Akihiro shrugged. "Dunno."
She groaned. "You're a bum."
Akihiro smiled faintly. "Not possible."
As the sun dipped lower behind the rooftops, the four of them walked off—moving like pieces slowly shifting into place.
And for once, everything felt… normal.
But far behind them, in the alley behind the store, a shadow stood watching.
Still.
Silent.
Waiting.