Cracks beneath the skin

The warehouse burned behind them.
Not from fire — from police lights slicing through the night, red and blue flashing like warning signals for a future that had already gone wrong.
Shiromi sat on the curb, elbows on her knees, breathing slow and controlled.On the surface, she looked fine.
Inside, something was "wrong".
Her muscles trembled faintly, like overstretched steel cables. A dull ache spread through her bones — not pain, but pressure, as if her body was resisting itself.
Hayato noticed.
“You’re shaking,” he said quietly.
“I’m not,” she replied.
He crouched in front of her. “Shiromi...”
She clenched her fists.The trembling didn’t stop.
“…This never used to happen,” she admitted. “After fights, I recover fast. Faster than this.”
Hayato’s jaw tightened.“Project H-04.”
She nodded.
"Don't worry about me. I'm fine, let's just continue moving forward. We must catch onto them."  
They reached a safehouse before dawn — a cramped room hidden beneath an old internet café, once used by investigative journalists. Dusty, forgotten, but secure.
Hayato powered on an old terminal.
“I hacked my father’s archived access keys,” he said. “If Project H still exists… this will show it.”
Lines of code scrolled rapidly.
Then the screen froze.
Hayato’s breath caught.
“…It’s active.”
Shiromi stood instantly. “Where?”
He zoomed in on a map.
An underground complex.No official name.No public records.
Only a designation:
"H-FACILITY EAST"
“And it gets worse,” Hayato added grimly.“There are new subjects.”

Shiromi felt her chest tighten.

“Children?” she asked.
Hayato nodded.
Silence fell between them.
She remembered her brother’s hand in hers.Small. Warm. Trusting.
Her voice came out low and steady.
“Then this ends now.”
Hayato looked up sharply. “You can’t just charge in. Subject 1 nearly—”
“I’m not doing this for revenge anymore,” she cut in.
She turned to him, eyes burning — not with hatred, but resolve.
“They took my family.They took your childhood.And yet 

They’re still taking others.”

Her trembling finally stopped.
Not because the pain vanished.
But because her purpose changed.
Outside, morning light began to creep into the city — pale, fragile, uncertain.
Hayato shut down the terminal.
“I’m with you,” he said.
She gave a small, tired smile.
“Good,” she replied.“Because this time… we’re not surviving.”
She stood.
“We’re saving them.”