# CHAPTER 4: Uninvited

Sakura did not stay home.

Obviously.

Jenny had called her fifteen times. Her dad had called twice—somehow news of "armed men at Moonbeam Coffee" had reached his Army base three states away. The police had taken her statement, thanked her for her "heroic intervention," and told her the attackers had escaped.

And Tamotsu hadn't contacted her at all.

Forty-eight hours of radio silence.

Which was why, on Saturday morning, Sakura found herself doing something arguably insane: tracking down Tamotsu's address.

It wasn't that hard, actually. She'd overheard him on the phone once, giving his address to someone making a delivery. She had a good memory for details—blessing and curse—and a quick online search confirmed the address existed.

An apartment building downtown. Industrial area. The kind of place where people minded their own business.

Perfect for a private security consultant who didn't like attention.

Sakura stood outside the building, second-guessing herself for the hundredth time. This was creepy, right? Showing up at someone's home uninvited was definitely creepy. Normal people didn't do this.

But those men had guns. Tamotsu had disappeared. And friendship meant not leaving people alone when they were in danger, even if they wanted to be left alone.

She rang the buzzer for unit 4B.

Nothing.

She tried again.

Still nothing.

Sakura chewed her lip. Maybe he wasn't home. Maybe he was avoiding her. Maybe she should—

The door clicked open.

She climbed four flights of stairs (broken elevator, naturally) and found apartment 4B at the end of the hall. Before she could knock, the door opened.

Tamotsu stood there in a black t-shirt and jeans, hair damp like he'd just showered, looking simultaneously unsurprised and annoyed.

"How did you find my address?"

"I'm resourceful." She pushed past him into the apartment before he could shut the door. "Why haven't you called me?"

"I don't have your number."

"You could have come by the coffee shop!"

"I told you to stay home."

"And I told you we're friends, which means you don't get to disappear after a gunfight!" She spun to face him, taking in the apartment as she did.

It was... sparse. Minimalist to the point of depressing. A couch, a coffee table, a small kitchen. No decorations, no pictures, no personality. Like a temporary shelter rather than a home.

It made her heart hurt a little.

"This is breaking and entering," Tamotsu said, closing the door.

"You let me in."

"Under duress."

"Emotional duress doesn't count." She noticed his laptop open on the coffee table, multiple windows showing what looked like surveillance footage. "What are you working on?"

He moved quickly, closing the laptop. "Nothing that concerns you."

"Those men came to the coffee shop because of you. That makes it my concern."

"No, it doesn't."

"Yes, it does!"

They were standing close now, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. He was taller than she'd realized, or maybe she just usually saw him sitting down. His gray eyes were intense, searching her face for something.

"Why are you here, Sakura?"

"Because you could be in danger."

"I'm always in danger. It's part of the job."

"Well, maybe you need someone to watch your back."

"I work alone."

"Maybe that's the problem!"

Tamotsu's jaw clenched. "You don't understand what you're involving yourself in."

"So explain it to me."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because—" He stopped, frustration flickering across his face. "Because people who get close to me get hurt. It's happened before. I won't let it happen again."

Oh.

That was more honest than she'd expected. And it explained a lot—the isolation, the walls, the determination to keep her at arm's length despite her persistent friendship attempts.

Sakura's voice softened. "What happened?"

"That's not something I discuss."

"Tamotsu—"

"You should leave."

"I'm not going to leave."

"Yes, you are."

"Make me."

They stared at each other. Sakura could practically see him calculating whether physically removing her was worth the effort. She planted her feet, ready to make it as difficult as possible.

Finally, he sighed—a deep, exhausted sound. "You're the most stubborn person I've ever met."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I'm taking it as one." She moved to the couch and sat down, making herself comfortable. "Now. Tell me what's going on."

"Absolutely not."

"Then I'll just sit here until you do."

"I'll call the police."

"And tell them what? That I'm aggressively befriending you?"

Another sigh. He rubbed his left shoulder—that old injury—and seemed to be waging an internal war. Finally, he sat down on the opposite end of the couch, maintaining maximum distance.

"I'm working a case," he said. "Protection detail for a witness. Those men Thursday were sent by the organization the witness is testifying against."

"Why did they come to the coffee shop?"

"Someone leaked my location. They wanted to send a message—stop protecting the witness, or else."

Sakura's stomach tightened. "Are you going to stop?"

"No."

"So they'll come after you again."

"Probably."

"That's—" She struggled for words. "That's really dangerous!"

"I'm aware."

"You could get killed!"

"Also aware."

"And you're just okay with that?"

Tamotsu looked at her then, really looked at her, and something in his expression made her breath catch. "What I'm not okay with is innocent people getting hurt because I couldn't do my job. That witness deserves protection. Her family deserves to feel safe. And if that means I'm in danger?" He shrugged. "That's the job."

It was the most she'd ever heard him say at once. And underneath the practical explanation, she heard something else—conviction. Purpose. A deep sense of responsibility that went beyond just doing a job.

"You really care," she said softly.

"I do my job well. That's all."

But it wasn't all, and they both knew it.

Sakura made a decision. Probably a stupid one, but when had that stopped her before?

"I want to help."

"No."

"I can fight. You saw that."

"You can defend yourself in a coffee shop altercation. This is different."

"Then teach me!"

"Sakura—"

"You said you work alone, but what if you didn't have to? What if you had backup?" She leaned forward, willing him to understand. "Those men knew where to find you. They'll know again. Wouldn't it be better to have someone watching your back?"

"I don't need—"

"Everyone needs someone." She gentled her voice. "Even you."

Tamotsu was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was rough. "You don't know what you're asking."

"So tell me."

"This isn't like your martial arts classes. People will try to kill you. Actually kill you, not just beat you in a match. Are you prepared for that?"

Honestly? She didn't know. But she knew she couldn't walk away now. Not when someone she cared about—friend, she meant friend—was in danger.

"I'm prepared to try," she said.

He studied her face, looking for doubt or fear. She kept her expression steady, even though her heart was racing.

"You're insane," he finally said.

"Probably."

"This is a terrible idea."

"Most of my ideas are."

"I should say no."

"But you're not going to."

Another long silence. Then: "One job. That's it. You help me keep the witness safe until her testimony, and then you go back to your normal life. Deal?"

"Deal!"

"I'm serious, Sakura. This isn't a game."

"I know."

"You follow my orders exactly. No improvising, no heroics."

"Define heroics."

"Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't do it."

She grinned. "You're starting to know me pretty well."

"Unfortunately." But there was the tiniest hint of warmth in his voice. "We start training tomorrow. 6 AM."

"In the morning?"

"You wanted to help."

"Right. 6 AM. I can do that." She stood, feeling lighter than she had in days. "Thank you, Tamotsu."

"Don't thank me yet. You're going to hate me by the end of tomorrow."

"Impossible. We're friends."

"We're not friends."

"Sure we're not." She headed for the door, then paused. "Hey, Tamotsu?"

"What?"

"I'm glad you're okay."

His expression softened, just for a moment. "I'm glad you're okay too."

It wasn't much. But from him, it felt like everything.

Sakura left the apartment with a smile on her face and danger waiting in her future.

She couldn't wait.