Ep 40 - Moonlight Becomes You

“I choose. I will do this,” Aiko said quietly.

The room fell quiet as the decision settled in. Michelle nodded. “Then we prepare. No shortcuts. No surprises.”

They began to outline specifics. Cover stories, signals, limited exposure windows, the tactical talk of people who must make a dangerous plan that felt like routine. But under every line was the unspoken truth: they were sending one of their own into the lions’ pit.

Outside, the campus sun climbed higher; inside, a quiet consensus formed. They wouldl use the one advantage they have — blood — against the monster that used blood for power.

By nightfall, the operations room glowed with dim screens and red markers scattered across a map of Shinjuku. Michelle stood at the center table with Talia and Franklin, the air thick with tension disguised as planning. Aiko sat nearby, hands folded in her lap, listening, absorbing everything.

“I still can’t believe we’re doing this,” Franklin muttered. “Sending her in like that... She’s thirteen, for God’s sake.”

“Thirteen and sharper than any of us would be at thirty,” Talia replied flatly. “You saw her infiltration scores. If anyone can pull this off, it’s her.”

“Still, we’re not sending her unarmed,” Michelle said. “Every piece of this has to hold up under scrutiny. If Kanda smells a lie, we lose our only line in.”

Aya crossed her arms. “He’s a smart bastard. But sentimental, that’s the angle.”

Michelle brought up a file on the screen: AIKO TANAKA – ORPHANAGE TRANSFER RECORDS. The records looked official but the metadata showed Talia’s fingerprints all over the forgery.

Talia smirked faintly. “Hey! I built the orphanage trail myself! Perfectly clean! Birth name Tanaka, moved between homes, last seen in Fukuoka. Just another lost kid curious about her past.”

“And we gave her a little do-over. New hairstyle and fake glasses. Don't want Yuno to recognize her instantly,” Liza added.

Michelle glanced toward Aiko. “And the pendant?”

Without a word, Aiko opened her palm. A small, worn silver pendant glimmered under the overhead light.

“I think I’ve had this since before the Organization took me in,” she said. “He might recognize it.”

Aya nodded. “That’s your key. No fake could match that kind of wear pattern. When he sees it, he’ll believe you.”

Franklin grumbled under his breath. “Belief isn’t enough. Why would a man like Ryuunosuke Kanda—a syndicate head—let a long-lost niece into his house?”

“Because he thought she died with her parents,” Michelle replied. “And because somewhere under that armor, there’s still a man who loved his sister. We hit that nerve just enough to open the door.”

Aiko spoke calmly, already thinking several steps ahead. “Once inside, I can map the security network, identify his inner circle… maybe even locate Yuno.”

Franklin snapped. “You’re talking like this is routine fieldwork. You do realize if anything goes wrong—”

“I know.” Aiko interrupted him ice cold. She met his eyes without flinching. “I’m the only one who can do this. I’m his blood. That’s the one thing you can’t forge.”

Silence fell. Franklin exhaled defeated.

“All right,” Michelle said softly. “Then we make it perfect. No holes, no gaps. You’ll go in as an orphan looking for her mother’s brother. We’ll have eyes on you the whole time.”

Aiko nodded, focused but expressionless.

Aya’s voice softened, almost maternal. “Just remember. He’s not your family. We are.”

A faint smile touched Aiko’s lips. “I know.”

***

The private teahouse sat tucked away in a narrow Tokyo alley, guarded and discreet. From multiple vantage points, the team observed as Ryuunosuke Kanda arrived with his escort.

“Kanda just showed up,” Detective Kanzaki reported over the radio.

“Right on time,” Michelle replied. “Aiko is ready. We’ve put a mobile tracker on her. “

Moments later Aiko walked past Kanzaki's stakeout van and slowly approached the guarded entrance, dressed plainly, the pendant resting against her chest. Two men blocked her path.

“Hey, kid. This place isn’t open to the public. What do you want?”

Aiko looked up, calm, unwavering. “I’m looking for Ryuunosuke Kanda.”

The guard laughed. “Very funny. Get lost, kid! This isn’t a place where you want to be.”

“Please tell him his niece wants to see him.”

“Yeah, right! Get out of here!”

Aiko politely walked away. She went around, trying her luck at the back door. No guards there. She cracked the lock and silently went inside.

The sliding door creaked open. The incense was burning faintly, the air thick with smoke and money.
Ryuunosuke Kanda sat at a low table, a glass of sake untouched, papers and phones scattered in front of him. Two guards stood behind him.

The door opened slightly wider and Aiko stepped in, bowing politely. “Excuse me,” Aiko said softly, bowing. “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

Guards were surprised, and didn’t expect anyone to walk in. Kanda didn’t look up at first.

“How did you get in here?” one guard stammered.

“You lost, girl?” Kanda said gruffly. “This isn’t a place for kids. I will have to ask these men to escort you out.”

“I was told Ryuunosuke Kanda might be here. Are you him?”

He finally looked at her. Sharp. Cold. Suspicion immediately rose.

“What do you want with him?”

“I think… he might be related to me.”

A long silence. One of the guards shifted uncomfortably.

Kanda leaned forward. “Related, huh? You show up out of nowhere, asking questions like that? What’s your game?”

Aiko bowed again, quietly. “No game. I’ve been looking for my family. I grew up in orphanages. I just want to know if I’m really alone.”

Kanda stood up. He was taller than she imagined. His tone hardened. “You think that story works on me? You have no idea what you’re talking about. Go home before you regret it.”

He grabbed her arm to turn her around, rough, impatient and then he froze. His eyes fell on the pendant resting against her collarbone. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, his grip slowly loosened. “ ...Where did you get that?”

“I think I’ve had it since before my parents died. It’s the only thing I have left,” Aiko said quietly.

Kanda’s expression shifted. Anger melted into disbelief, confusion and a trace of something almost human. “Your name. What’s your name?”

“My name is Tanaka Aiko.”

The glass on the table trembled as his hand tightened around it. “Tanaka…” He looked down, whispering. “Can’t be…”

Aiko nodded faintly. “My parents were Ayame and Daisuke Tanaka. They died when I was little. I... I never knew what happened after.”

Kanda slowly sat back down, his face pale and unreadable. He waved the guards away without looking at them. The guards hesitated, but then stepped out, closing the door behind them. Silence filled the room. The air was heavy with something neither of them could name.

Kanda’s voice was barely a whisper. “You should have died that day…”

“I almost did.”

Aiko’s reply was steady. Too steady for a child. She did not look away. He looked at her for a long time, then gestured to the seat across from him. “Sit. We have a lot to talk about.”

Aiko bowed once more and sat down. Her posture was straight, eyes lowered. She played her part perfectly. A tense silence lingered between them. Kanda poured himself a drink but didn't touch it. “A lot of people have tried to fool me over the years. Pretending to be family. Pretending to be loyal.” He looked at her directly. “If you are who you say you are, there’s something only you would have. Lift your skirt.”

Aiko was surprised, blinked, saying nothing. This was not a request she would expect.

“When you were three,” Kanda continued, “you knocked over a rack of swords in my home. One of them cut your leg deep, on the left thigh. I remember because you wouldn’t stop crying until your mother sang to you.”

Aiko hesitated. Then, without breaking eye contact, she slowly rolled up the side of her skirt just above the knee — enough to reveal the diagonal scar among several others. Kanda froze. His eyes widened.

“That’s it... the same line…” He leaned back, visibly shaken. “It really is you.”

Aiko quietly lowered the fabric. “I don’t remember it. They told me I had the scar since before the orphanage.”

Kanda exhaled, rubbing his face, part disbelief, part guilt.

“Where have you been all this time?” he whispered. “I looked for you... for years. I thought you died with your parents.”

“They said the car exploded,” Aiko replied. “I don’t remember much. Just fire, and then... nothing. The first thing I could clearly remember after that was the orphanage. They said my name was Aiko Tanaka.”

Kanda sighed heavily. “Ayame’s girl, surviving that... fate’s got a strange sense of humor.”

Aiko stayed quiet, humble, a perfect picture of nervous gratitude.

“I didn’t come to bother you. I just wanted to know if I still have family.”

Kanda studied her for a long time, then gave a small nod. “You’ve got more than that. You’ve got me. And I’ve got plenty of room for one more.”

Aiko bowed her head slightly, carefully hiding the flicker of satisfaction that passed through her eyes. Through the tinted windows, the lights of Narita glimmered like a restless sea. Kanda sat behind the table, silent, turning the silver pendant between his fingers. Aiko sat opposite him, posture impeccable. The tea between them remained untouched.

“You’ve got some timing, kid,” Kanda said at last. “You show up after eight years, when half of Tokyo thinks I’ve got something to hide.” He leaned back. “So tell me—why now?”

“I didn’t even know you were alive until last week,” Aiko replied. “I found your name by accident, looking through records about my mother. I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

Kanda watched her closely. Her tone was steady. Too steady. But her eyes are convincing — shy, sincere, a touch afraid.

“You really don’t remember anything before the orphanage?”

“Just flashes,” she said. “Fire. Screaming. Then... a hospital, but that too was just a blur. After that I went to different homes.”

He sighed heavily, rubbing his chin. “Ayame and Daisuke didn’t deserve what happened to them. When I look at you now, I see the resemblance..”

Aiko glanced down modestly. “I wish I could remember them.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Finally, Kanda turned toward one of the guards near the door. “Tell Tanabe to get a room ready.”

“Boss—?”

“You heard me. She’s family. She stays with me.”

The guard bowed slightly and left. Aiko looked up, startled. “I don’t want to cause trouble—”

“You’re not,” Kanda said. “If the world’s been cruel to you, then it’s my turn to fix that.”

He stood, walked around the table, and stopped beside her. His voice softened, but the authority in it remained. “You’ll stay close, where I can keep an eye on you. If anyone gives you trouble, you tell me.”

“Yes, sir,” Aiko said obediently.

He smirked faintly. “Sir?” He shook his head. “Call me ojisan.”

Aiko smiled for the first time. It was a small, genuine one. “Hai, ojisan.”

He patted her shoulder before leaving the room. She stayed seated for a long time after he was gone, staring at the pendant in her hand. Her voice was barely a whisper. “One step closer.”

***

High above Kanda’s district, humid summer air buzzed with neon and traffic. The Fangs moved across the rooftops like shadows. Aya crouched on a ledge, binoculars glowing faintly in the dark. “She’s inside. Top floor, second window from the left. Guards moved her to a guest suite.”

Talia adjusted a small drone controller beside her, the device hovering between buildings like a silver insect. “Thermal confirms it. She’s alone. No one’s been in or out since she got there.”

Katya scanned the street below through a rifle scope — not to shoot, but to watch. “Too many armed men on the perimeter. Six visible, probably another six we don’t see. If something goes wrong, we won’t get to her fast enough.”

“We won’t need to,” Michelle said over comms. “She’s under full ghost protocol. If the signal drops or her vitals spike, we pull her immediately.”

Aya frowned. “You mean if she survives long enough for us to pull her.”

“She’s trained for this, Aya,” Michelle replied. “You all trained her.”

“Doesn’t make her bulletproof,” Aya said.

“Or unbreakable,” Maya added with a half-smirk.

“She volunteered,” Michelle said firmly. “And you know why.”

No one argued. Not even Aya had anything to add. In the van, Franklin sat beside Michelle, looking uneasy, arms crossed. “I still can’t believe you sent a thirteen-year-old to play bait for a crime boss.”

“You saw the footage,” Michelle said. “No one else could get close. Blood was the only way in.”

Franklin exhaled slowly. “Let’s hope blood’s enough to keep her alive.”

***

Aiko sat by the window, pretending to look at the city lights. Her pendant glowed faintly in the dark. She unpacked a small communication device. She touched it gently and whispered. “I’m in. So far so good. Don’t worry about me.”

Through the comm bead in her ear, Michelle’s voice answered softly. “Just remember, you’re not alone in there.”

“I know. But it has to look like I am. He showed me around the house. I was able to quickly view the security system. I think I can get into some places unnoticed.”

She closed the curtain, took a deep breath, and turned toward the dim hallway beyond the door, where she heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

Showtime.