Volume 1 – Chapter 12: The Edge of Dawn

From the world outside, all was silence. A silence that encircled her, weighted with substance, like a thick fog that tampers the world. Somewhere in the distance, the low thrum of electricity wheezed through the ascendant street lamps, struggling against the slick pavement. It was a small thing, but in this city of phantoms, it was enough to reassure me we weren’t in a dream. That this was real.

Next to me, Rika stirred; she was breathing slowly, in a measured rhythm, but I could tell she was very much awake. We had been like this for ten minutes or so, against the cold brick wall of the alley, listening. Waiting. Watching.

I knew what she was thinking. We weren’t safe here. Nowhere was safe. But to move would mean to risk ourselves, and we weren’t ready to risk ourselves just yet.

I tilted my head slightly to one side and followed the way the dropped light stroked the fine angles of her face. She looked weary — her trademark incisive, confrontational attitude dulled by tiredness. But there was fire in her dark, unblinking eyes.

“What?” she hissed, realizing I was watching.

I laughed a thin, breathy little laugh. “Nothing. Just checking in to see if you’re still alive.”

Her brow stitched into a furrow, though not out of irritation. More like she was searching me for something in what I’d said. “I’m not going anywhere, Kaito,” she said, sounding lower now.

I swallowed. “Good.”

We fell silent again, but he was different. Less heavy. More frayed, a thread stretched taut between us, waiting to snap.

Rika pivoted, hugged her shins, and gazed down the empty street beyond the alley. “We can’t stay here.”

I nodded. “I know.”

“We need to know what our next action is going to be.

“I know that too.”

She let out a slow and weary sigh. “Then say something useful.”

I hesitated. “We should head east. Towards the river. Fewer open spaces, more places to conceal yourself.”

She nodded, considering. “And then?”

I had no answer. There was no clear place to go, no guarantee that any part of this city didn’t have those who were chasing us. All we had was the file — the info in that fucking video. Project Eclipse. The final choice. But none of it made sense.

I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated. “I don’t know, Rika. I just—”

A noise.

We both froze.

It wasn’t loud, but it was close. A slight shuffle, as though someone had been elbowed into brick.

Rika’s fingers tingled at the knife at her belt. My pulse hammered in my ears. We froze, barely breathing.

Then—footsteps. Slow. Careful. Deliberate.

Someone was out there.

Rika’s eyes caught mine, and I knew what they asked. Run or fight?

I barely had time to answer. The moment lingered — and then snapped.

A shadow passed at the mouth of the alley.

Rika reacted first. With one smooth motion, she took my wrist, yanked me to my feet. We bolted.

The footsteps behind us started getting faster.

We ran through the alley, down twists and turns, feet pounding. The city whizzed past us — junk cars, busted windows, chrome-sheer walls sprayed with graffiti. The heavy footfalls behind us were relentless. Whoever was chasing us was fast.

I looked back — if only for a moment. Faceless in the dim light, a black-cloaked figure. My stomach turned cold.

“They’re coming up behind us,” I said, my jaw locked.

And then all at once Rika turned left, taking me with her. A narrow side street, on a scale of two people. Our backs crashed against the wall of brick as we slipped inside, hidden in the shadows.

The footfalls reached the end of the street — and then halted.

I felt like my heart was skipping inside my rib cage. Rika was panting and taking shallow breaths. Neither of us moved.

The figure hesitated. I heard the soft, steady breathing of someone who was trained to track. They were listening.

The seconds dragged.

And then — suddenly — the footsteps turned. Faded. Disappeared.

We didn’t move. Not for a long time.

Finally, Rika exhaled.

“They released us,” she said in a whisper.

I nodded, chest still tight. “Or at least that’s what they wanted us to believe.”

She looked at me then. Really looked. And I heard something unfiltered in her tone that I hadn’t heard since this nightmare began. Not just fear. Not just exhaustion. But something deeper.

“Kaito,” she said, her voice barely an octave above a whisper. I —” She stopped, shook her head as if searching for words.

But she didn’t need to.

I felt it too. Burdened by everything and everyone around us. The uncertainty. The fear. That one day we might go outside step into the shadows like the rest of this city.

I didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate.

I took hold of her, and she did not withdraw.

Her nails dug into my jacket, clutching my shirt as if I was the fucking only thing pinning her down. Her forehead was against mine, and in that moment, the outside world did not exist. No Project Eclipse. No faceless hunters. No impending end.

Just us.

“I’m afraid,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“Me too,” I whispered back.

She pulled back just far enough to see my face, to check my eyes for something. I had no clue what she discovered there, but whatever it was, it was enough.

She kissed me.

It was desperate. Not in the way of romance, not in the way of longing, but in the way of survival. Like she needed to remind herself she was still here. That we were still here.

Pulling back, she released a shaky breath. “Don’t die on me, Kaito.”

I gave a small, weary smile. “If you agree to the same.”

She smiled, but not fully up to her eyes. “Deal.”

For a few more seconds we stayed as we were, the city breathing around us, the danger still at the edges of the night. But something had changed.

Maybe it wasn’t love. Not yet.

But it was something.

And for now, that was enough.

The sky was beginning to lighten, a paltry gleam of light skirting the globe.

We weren’t safe. We didn’t have a plan.

But we had each other.

And for now, that was the only thing that kept us from shattering.