Lovers in the Crosshairs

I woke up with a dumb smile on my face.

It was still dark outside, but I felt lighter than I had in weeks—hell, maybe months. My room was cold, the sky outside still gray, but none of that mattered. All I could think about was Belle. The warmth of her hand in mine. The way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. The way she held me when I broke down like a damn child yesterday.

Were we... dating now?

That thought made my stomach flip. I tried to brush it off—tried to tell myself it was premature, that we hadn’t said anything official—but the butterflies in my chest wouldn’t shut up.

I stumbled downstairs, still half in a haze, and found Mom in the kitchen, humming some old Christmas song as she poured herself coffee.

“Morning,” I mumbled, running a hand through my hair.

“You’re up early,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “School just announced they’re closing for the rest of the term. Guess the murders finally convinced them.”

“Oh,” I said, blinking. “That’s... good.”

She gave me a long look. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I replied, grabbing my coat off the rack. “Just gonna get some air.”

Before she could ask more, I was already out the door, hopping onto my bike and coasting down the icy street. The cold air hit my cheeks like a slap, but I didn’t care. I felt invincible.

It was still early. Belle probably wouldn’t be awake yet.

I was just thinking about whether I should circle back home or find a spot to kill time when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Luca: Yo could we meet up in the woods Like right now.

No context. No punctuation. Just like him.

I didn’t think twice. Just veered right and took the snowy trail that led into the woods.

When I got there, I spotted him standing at the base of the old tree—the one we used to climb back when things were simpler.

“Yo,” I called out, slowing to a jog.

He looked up—and before I could brace for whatever speech he had loaded, he wrapped his arms around me in a tight, warm hug.

I froze. Luca didn’t do hugs. Not unless someone died or won the World Cup.

Still, I hesitated only a moment before wrapping my arms around him.

He let go a couple seconds later and stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m... shit, Wise. I’m sorry,” he muttered. “For that day. The shit I said. The shit I did.”

I didn’t ask what day he meant. I knew. My eyes dropped to the snow, and I couldn’t meet his gaze.

That seemed to gut him even more.

“I was grieving, man,” Luca went on, his voice starting to crack. “My mom died and I didn’t know where to put all that rage. So I threw it at you. The one guy who was actually trying to do something. You were fighting all that nightmare shit alone, and I just... left you to it.”

His voice was trembling now.

I looked up—and he was barely holding it together. His jaw clenched, eyes watery, trying not to cry in front of me.

I smiled. Just a little. Then placed a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s all good, man,” I said. “I get it.”

He wiped his face, laughing awkwardly. “Damn. You always gotta be the better man, huh?”

I shrugged. “Nah. I just know what it’s like to carry too much.”

He sniffed, then squinted at me. “You’re smiling a little too hard, though. Like... unnaturally happy. What gives?”

I tried to play it off. “Nothin’. Just... feels good not to be punched in the face today.”

“Uh huh sure buddy,” Luca said immediately. “Something happened. Did something happen with Belle?”

I gave him a half-hearted shrug. “Maybe.”

“Oh my God,” he whispered, grinning. “You kissed her.”

“I mean—”

“You kissed her,” he repeated louder. “Did she kiss back? Is this, like, official now?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I was gonna ask if... maybe we can start dating?”

Luca’s jaw dropped. “Start dating? Bro. What more do you need? You’re already in.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Wise,” he said flatly. “She held you like you were the last chocolate at the bottom of the box. That’s not friend behavior. That’s girlfriend behavior.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “You really suck at metaphors.”

We shoved each other around, horse-playing like idiots in the snow until we both collapsed, breathless and red-faced, onto the forest floor.

A voice called out behind us: “What the hell are you two doing lying in the snow like feral children?”

I turned my head—and there was Belle, arms crossed, looking down at us like we were the dumbest things she’d seen all week.

Luca raised a hand lazily. “Bonding.”

She rolled her eyes, but she smiled.

And just like that, the cold didn’t feel so cold anymore.

After we finished goofing around like idiots in the snow, Luca and I finally peeled ourselves off the forest floor, brushing off the thick layer of white that clung to us like frostbitten regret. Belle walked over and, without missing a beat, slid in right next to me. Not just next to me—beside me. Shoulder brushing mine. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Luca shot me a look. One of those stupid, smug grins. The kind that said I know exactly what’s going on here, loverboy.

I rolled my eyes and tried to act normal, but the back of my neck was heating up fast.

We climbed up to the treehouse, our little sanctuary tucked between the branches, and I unrolled the map across the rickety wooden table in the center.

“Okay,” I said, stabbing a finger at the north side of town. “Next target’s probably going to be this house—Stephen Harring. Retired dairy farmer. Lives alone. Middle of nowhere.”

“Stephen Harring?” Belle echoed, squinting at the pin. “Didn’t he donate cheese wheels to that one school fundraiser?”

“Yeah. Also, his house smells like expired milk and wet carpet,” Luca added.

“Well,” I said, “guess that makes sense.”

Luca frowned. “Why?”

I met his eyes. “Eight maids a-milking.”

We all fell quiet.

It didn’t need explaining. We knew what that meant.

Brutal. Disgusting. Probably something we’d never be able to scrub from our minds once we saw it. The pattern so far had been anything but subtle.

Belle exhaled slowly. “Okay. So... how do we stop it?”

Luca turned to me. “You’re the only one with a weapon. How are we supposed to fight back?”

I sat with that for a second. The Kusanagi blade was still under my bed at home, still impossibly sharp and humming like it had its own pulse. But that wasn’t enough—not if this next round was going to be worse than the last.

Belle broke the silence. “We bring what we’ve got. Whatever we can get from home. Knives, bats, I don’t know. Something.”

Luca nodded. “Better than going in with fists and feelings.”

“Alright,” I agreed. “We make it work.”

We laid out a rough game plan—where to hide, how to approach, how to get Stephen out if we had to. After we had the logistics locked down, Luca leaned forward and asked, “So what exactly happened at the last two murders?”

I looked between them. Their eyes were steady—serious. They deserved to know.

So I told them.

About the house filled with water. The swans that cut like razors. The way my lungs should’ve collapsed but didn’t. About the geese before that—their wings, the chanting, the blood.

I didn’t sugarcoat it. I couldn’t. They needed to be ready.

By the time I finished, their faces were pale. Belle had gone completely quiet. Luca, for once, didn’t have a snarky comeback.

We didn’t say much after that.

Eventually, we packed up and climbed down from the platform. The sky was dipping into golden hour, but the sun hadn’t begun to set just yet. It had that strange, late-winter glow to it—too bright, too cold.

We walked our bikes to the main road. At the sidewalk, Luca gave us a half-wave.

“See you tonight,” he muttered, before turning toward his street.

Belle and I rode together in silence for a while, the tires crunching over thin frost. It was peaceful. Almost too peaceful.

Then, Belle broke it.

“We’re dating, by the way,” she said casually, like she was commenting on the weather. “Just figured I’d let you know. Since I don’t think you know.”

I swerved slightly, nearly veering into a mailbox. “What?” I croaked.

She looked over at me with a smug smile. “You didn’t know, did you?”

“No, I—uh—of course I knew!” I lied, straightening up. “I was just... waiting for you to confirm it. Gentleman stuff.”

“Mhm. Sure.” Her grin widened. “Then prove it.”

I hit the brakes. “Prove it?”

She didn’t answer. Just stopped her bike beside mine, propped one foot on the curb, and tilted her head expectantly.

My brain was short-circuiting. My face burned.

But I wasn’t about to back down.

I stepped off my bike and closed the space between us. Slowly, I raised my hands to her face, my thumb brushing just under her eye. I leaned in, just enough to feel the warmth of her breath on my lips—

SCREEEEEECH.

The sound of tires skidding against asphalt shattered the moment like glass.

I dropped my hands and turned just in time to see the black BMW slide into frame, slewing to a halt so close I could count the paint chips on the hood. It stopped centimeters from my knees.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t blink.

The driver door cracked open with a hiss. Dez stepped out, chewing gum like it had wronged him personally. His black jacket was open, his boots crunching in slow, deliberate steps as he closed the distance between us.

He stopped right in front of me, face twisted into something sharp and spiteful. His eyes locked onto mine, hard and hateful, but I didn’t break.

I didn’t move.

Not an inch.

He leaned in slightly, his breath a sour mix of gum and ego. “Get out of my way, Harrington.”

I stared straight ahead.

Didn’t budge.

He smiled. Not friendly—just teeth.

And I smiled right back.

I kept my eyes locked on Dez’s.

Unmoving.

Unblinking.

He didn’t like it. I could see it in the twitch of his jaw, the way he shifted his weight like he couldn’t believe I wasn’t folding like I usually did. Something about standing my ground—it set his teeth on edge. He wasn’t used to me being still. Steady. Unbothered.

So, naturally, he tried to shove me.

Big mistake.

I sidestepped at the last second and grabbed his collar, yanking him off balance with just enough force to throw him into the side of his own damn car. The sound of him hitting the door was solid—metal on meat.

Belle gasped beside me and tugged gently on my arm. “Wise... come on.”

Her voice. Her hand. That was the only reason I let go.

Dez staggered back, panting like an angry dog, adjusting his jacket with trembling fingers. He straightened up, his cheeks flushed with rage and humiliation.

“You’re dead, Harrington,” he spat. “Fucking dead.”

Then he charged.

“Belle, move!” I shouted, shoving her gently out of the way.

I pivoted at the last second again, just enough to avoid the full impact of Dez’s rush. He stumbled past me, skidding on the icy sidewalk. I dipped down, scooped a handful of snow, and packed it tight with one fluid motion. Dez turned, snarling—

Smack.

Direct hit. Right in the eyes.

He howled, stumbling back as his hands flew to his face.

“Go inside!” I barked to Belle. “Now!”

She hesitated, eyes wide, but then nodded and darted up the steps of her house, slamming the door behind her.

Dez was still swiping snow out of his eyes, cursing loud enough to wake the block.

By the time he looked up again, I was halfway to my bike.

“Come back here, you little shit!” he screamed, slipping as he tried to run after me.

“Not tonight, asshole,” I muttered, hopping onto the pedals.

I was gone before his boots even left the pavement.

Crisis avoided. For now.

2:00 AM

My alarm buzzed against the nightstand, low and sharp.

I silenced it with one swipe, but didn’t move otherwise—not a muscle.

I could hear it.

The faint creak of my window sliding open.

The soft crunch of snow under something small, light, and lethal.

I held my breath, waiting... counting the seconds. One... two... ten...

Once I was sure it was gone—far enough away—I sat up in one smooth motion.

Already dressed.

All black. Tracksuit. Bandana over my lower face. Gloves. No skin showing.

I dropped to the floor and slid out the sword—the real one. The one that made people bleed.

The Kusanagi.

Still humming with a quiet hunger.

Phone in hand, I opened the group chat and typed:

Wise: You guys up?

A second passed.

Belle: Yup. Dressed and ready.

Luca: You know I don’t sleep. Let’s do this.

I smirked, heart pounding. Not from fear. From focus.

I dropped the phone into my pocket and walked to the window.

Fresh footprints littered the rooftop, deep grooves in the snow.

It was moving fast—but not faster than me.

I stepped out, blade at my side, breath fogging in the dark air.

The town was silent.

The hunt was on.

And I was right behind it.