For three weeks, they were inseparable.
Every afternoon after school, Hiro would sneak to the boundary between districts—that invisible line where pavement changed from cracked concrete to smooth asphalt, where Beast Folk territory ended and human space began.
And Luna would be there, waiting.
They'd meet at the small playground that technically belonged to neither district, sitting in that grey area where laws were fuzzy and authorities rarely patrolled. It became *their* place. Their secret.
Hiro brought candy. Luna brought flowers she'd picked. They'd swing side by side, talking about everything and nothing—about school, about dreams, about a future where maybe, just maybe, districts wouldn't matter.
Three perfect weeks.
And then someone noticed.
**[THE REPORT]**
The man wore a grey suit and carried a briefcase. Hiro never saw his face—just watched from behind a tree as the man stopped, stared at them playing, pulled out his phone.
"Yes, I'd like to report a violation of segregation ordinance 14-B," the man said crisply into his phone, his voice carrying across the playground. "Beast Folk child in unauthorized zone. With a human child. Yes, I'll wait."
Luna's ears had flattened immediately. She'd heard the word before: *violation.*
"Hiro," she'd whispered, her small hand clutching his. "I need to go. Right now."
"But—"
"*Now.*"
She'd run before he could stop her, her white tail streaming behind her as she disappeared back across the district line.
Hiro had watched her go, confusion and fear knotting in his seven-year-old chest.
He didn't understand.
Not yet.
**[THAT NIGHT - LUNA'S HOME]**
*BANG BANG BANG*
The door exploded inward at 9 PM, three hours after Luna had returned home.
She'd been helping her mother with dishes, her father reading the newspaper in their small living room. A normal evening. A safe evening.
Until it wasn't.
Four officers in black uniforms with the BFSA insignia—Beast Folk Security Army—stormed in, batons drawn.
"Violation of segregation ordinance 14-B," the lead officer barked, consulting a tablet. "Beast Folk minor observed in human territory. Ordinance clearly states—"
"She's six years old!" Luna's mother screamed, pulling Luna behind her. "She's a *child*—"
"The law makes no exceptions for age." The officer's face was stone. "Punishment is mandatory. Thirty strikes."
Thirty strikes.
Luna didn't understand what that meant, but her parents did.
Her father moved faster than she'd ever seen, stepping between Luna and the officers.
"Please," he begged, his voice breaking in a way Luna had never heard before. "Please, she didn't know. She's just a child. I'll—" He swallowed hard. "I'll take it. Her punishment. Give it to me."
"Papa, no—" Luna tried to run to him, but her mother held her back, covered her ears, turned her face away.
But Luna still heard.
The crack of batons against flesh.
Her father's grunts of pain—he refused to scream, refused to give them the satisfaction.
The officers counted. Out loud.
"One. Two. Three..."
Luna squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming down her face, her mother's hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her sobs.
"...Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. Thirty."
When it was over, her father lay on their living room floor, bloodied and broken but conscious. The officers left without another word, their boots tracking red across the threshold.
Luna's mother rushed to him, but he waved her toward Luna first.
"I'm fine," he rasped, though he clearly wasn't. "Check on her. Make sure she's—"
But Luna wasn't fine.
She stared at her father—at the blood, at the bruises already forming, at the way he couldn't stand without help—and something inside her shattered.
*This is my fault.*
*I did this.*
*I hurt Papa.*
Her father had met her eyes across the room, had tried to smile through his split lip.
"It's okay, little moon," he'd whispered, using his nickname for her. "It's okay. I love you."
But it wasn't okay.
Nothing would ever be okay again.
**[THE NEXT DAY - THE PARK]**
Hiro arrived at 3 PM, like always.
Luna wasn't there.
He waited until sunset. Nothing.
"Maybe she's just late," he told himself.
**[DAY TWO]**
Hiro waited again.
Still no Luna.
The swings moved in the wind, empty and creaking.
**[DAY THREE]**
"She's probably sick," Hiro reasoned, though fear was beginning to hollow out his chest.
He waited anyway.
**[DAY SEVEN]**
One week.
Hiro sat on the swing, staring at the district boundary, willing a small white-furred girl to appear.
She didn't.
**[DAY FOURTEEN]**
Two weeks.
It rained.
Hiro sat in the rain, getting soaked, remembering the day he'd met her.
*"Are you okay? You're all wet."*
Where was she?
**[DAY THIRTY]**
One month.
Hiro's mother had started asking questions. "Where do you go every afternoon?"
"Just the park," he'd answered.
"Alone?"
"...Yeah. Alone."
It was true now.
**[DAY SIXTY]**
Two months.
Hiro stopped checking the district boundary every five minutes.
He just sat. Waited. Hoped.
**[DAY NINETY]**
Three months.
"Maybe she moved away," Hiro whispered to the empty swing beside him.
"Maybe she... forgot about me."
The thought hurt worse than any beating he'd ever taken.
**[SIX MONTHS LATER]**
Hiro still came to the park sometimes.
Not every day anymore. Just... sometimes.
He'd sit on their swing, eat candy alone, and wonder where the little white-haired girl with the golden eyes had gone.
He never found out.
Eventually—years later—the memories began to blur.
A girl. White fur. A promise.
But her face? Her name?
Those faded like photographs left in sunlight.
Until all that remained was a feeling:
*I'm waiting for someone.*
*Someone important.*
*Someone I lost.*
**[LUNA'S SIDE - THAT SAME PERIOD]**
Luna didn't go back to the park.
She couldn't.
Her father healed slowly—thirty strikes left scars that never fully faded. Every time Luna saw him wince, saw him struggle to lift things, saw the network of white scars across his back when he thought she wasn't looking...
She remembered.
*This is my fault.*
Her mother held her at night when she cried. "It's not your fault, baby. It's not your fault."
But it was.
She'd crossed the line. She'd made friends with a human boy. She'd broken the rules.
And her father had paid the price.
"Can I go to the park?" she'd asked once, a week after the incident.
Her parents' faces had gone grey with terror.
"No," her mother said firmly. "Never again. You stay in the district. You understand? You *stay here.*"
Luna understood.
She was seven years old, and she understood that the world was cruel and loving someone from the wrong side of an invisible line could get people hurt.
So she stopped asking.
Stopped going outside much at all.
Stopped smiling.
Her father noticed. Of course he did.
"Luna," he'd said one night, crouching down to her level despite the pain it caused him. "This isn't your fault. You know that, right?"
She'd nodded, lying.
"The boy you were playing with... was he kind to you?"
She'd nodded again, tears streaming down her face.
"Then don't forget him," her father whispered. "Don't let them make you forget that kindness exists. That friendship exists. That love—" His voice broke. "—that love is stronger than their laws."
But time is cruel to children's promises.
Weeks became months. Months became years.
And slowly, painfully, inevitably...
Luna forgot his face.
His name.
Everything except the ghost of a feeling:
*Someone once made me feel safe.*
*Someone once called me beautiful.*
*Someone once promised to protect me.*
*But I can never see them again.*
*Because love like that... gets people hurt.*
**[TEN YEARS LATER]**
The morning sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the director's office, casting long geometric shadows across the polished marble floor. It was the kind of space designed to intimidate—vast, impersonal, with furniture that cost more than most people's annual salaries. The city sprawled below like a chess board, unaware of the games being played in towers like this one.
A man sat in the high-backed leather chair, his face deliberately positioned in shadow. His expensive suit was immaculate, tailored to perfection, but his hands were clenched on the armrests with barely contained tension.
The door opened with a soft pneumatic hiss.
Dr. Saito entered, her heels clicking against the floor in a rhythm that betrayed her nervousness. She had been summoned without explanation, and in this building, that was never a good sign. Her white lab coat was crisp, her tablet clutched against her chest like a shield.
"Come in, Doctor." The Unknown Man's voice was cold, flat—the kind of voice that had given orders that ruined lives and never looked back.
She approached the massive desk, stopping at what she hoped was a respectful distance. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
"The Mizuki boy." He didn't waste time on pleasantries. "Your assessment?"
Dr. Saito had prepared for this question, had rehearsed her words during the elevator ride up. She believed in what she was about to say. "Hiro Mizuki is... remarkable, sir. Cooperative, intelligent, emotionally stable despite the trauma he's endured. If we handle this correctly, he could become a bridge between humans and beast folk. A voice for coexistence, for—"
The hand slammed down on the desk with such force that Dr. Saito flinched, taking an involuntary step backward.
"A VOICE?!" The Unknown Man leaned forward, and for a moment his face caught the light—hard eyes, a thin mouth twisted in something between rage and fear. "I cannot ALLOW that. He's too dangerous. Too unpredictable. Do you have any idea what that boy represents? What he could become?"
He stood abruptly, walking to the window, hands clasped behind his back. "Did you take his blood sample?"
The question hit her like a physical blow. Dr. Saito's throat went dry. "No, sir. That was our last interview. He refused further testing and we... we didn't have the legal authority to force—"
He turned sharply, and the look in his eyes made her blood run cold. "You FAILED to secure a sample?!"
"Sir, he has rights. He's a minor, and his guardian refused consent. We can't force medical procedures without—"
"GET OUT."
The words were quiet, but they carried the weight of absolute authority.
Dr. Saito froze, her breath caught in her chest.
"Get out of my office." His voice dropped even lower, more dangerous. "And find that boy. Get me his blood. BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY."
She nodded quickly, clutching her tablet tighter, and fled the office. The door sealed behind her with a finality that sounded like a cell door closing.
Silence filled the vast space.
Then, sharp and intrusive, the phone on the desk rang.
The Unknown Man composed himself, straightening his tie before answering. "Yes?"
"Status report." The voice on the other end was female, commanding, with the clipped efficiency of someone who had spent decades giving orders and having them obeyed without question.
His entire demeanor shifted. The arrogance drained away, replaced by something resembling respect. Fear, even. "The boy is under surveillance, General. But we don't have biological samples yet. The doctor failed to secure them during the last interview."
The scene shifted.
A military facility, one that didn't appear on any official maps. Deep underground, past security checkpoints that required retinal scans and DNA verification, a control room hummed with electronic equipment. Monitors displayed data streams, satellite images, thermal scans.
A woman stood at the center of it all, hands behind her back, staring at a large screen showing a photograph of a teenage boy with dark hair and gentle eyes.
The General was in her fifties, with steel-gray hair pulled back in a severe bun. Her uniform was decorated with medals and insignia that spoke of a career built on classified operations and difficult decisions. Her face was hard, carved from stone, with eyes that had seen too much and felt too little.
"Unacceptable." Her voice was ice. "We need his DNA for Project Chimera. The timeline is already behind schedule."
Back in the city office, the Unknown Man swallowed. "Understood, General. I'll personally oversee—"
"If you can't acquire it peacefully..." She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "Then we move to Phase Two."
"Phase Two." He repeated the words like a death sentence. "Understood, General."
She ended the call without another word.
The Unknown Man stood alone in his office, staring at the phone. Then he walked back to the window, looking down at the city where Hiro Mizuki was living his ordinary life.
"Phase Two," he whispered to his reflection. "God help us all."
The rooftop of Seika Academy was a world away from underground facilities and classified operations. Here, the sun was warm, the breeze was gentle, and the biggest concern was whether there would be enough curry bread in the cafeteria.
Hiro sat with his back against the rooftop railing, his lunch box open on his lap. He was in his human form—seventeen years old, with dark hair that always seemed slightly messy no matter how much he tried to comb it, and eyes that held a kindness that had survived despite everything he'd been through.
The group had claimed this spot as their own over the months. It was far enough from the main building that they could talk freely, but close enough that they could make it back to class on time.
On the boys' side: Hiro and Takeshi, who was currently trying to explain a video game strategy with his hands full of rice. Takeshi was stocky, athletic, with the easy confidence of someone who'd never had to hide what he was.
On the girls' side: Luna sat with perfect posture, her white wolf ears occasionally twitching at sounds only she could hear. Her tail, fluffy and expressive, curled around her as she delicately ate her lunch. Next to her was Yuki—the rabbit demi-human with long floppy ears that hung down to her shoulders—and Kaede, the human girl with bright eyes and an infectious enthusiasm for everything.
"—and that's when I realized the boss had a second health bar!" Takeshi was saying, gesturing wildly with his chopsticks. "Can you believe that?!"
Hiro laughed. "Maybe if you'd read the strategy guide like I suggested—"
"Strategy guides are for quitters!"
Kaede suddenly clapped her hands together, making everyone jump. "Oh! Everyone! Don't forget—this Sunday is Hiro's eighteenth birthday!"
Hiro felt heat rise to his face. "Kaede, you didn't have to announce—"
"Of COURSE I did!" She leaned forward conspiratorially, though her voice was loud enough for the whole rooftop to hear. "We need to celebrate! It's a big deal!"
Yuki's ears perked up, bouncing with excitement. "A birthday party! Yes! We should do something special!"
Takeshi pointed his chopsticks at Hiro. "We should do something big. You only turn eighteen once, man! This is important!"
"It's really not that—" Hiro tried to protest, but he was drowned out by the planning that had already begun.
Luna sat quietly through all of this, her lunch barely touched. Her ears were slightly lowered, and her tail had stopped its usual swaying. She stared at her food, but her mind was clearly elsewhere.
*His birthday,* she thought. *What should I give him? What could possibly express how much he means to me?*
The conversation swirled around her—suggestions for restaurants, karaoke, bowling. But all Luna could think about was the impossible task of finding the perfect gift for someone who had saved her life, who had shown her what courage looked like, who had become the center of her world without even trying.
Hiro glanced at her, noticing her silence. "Luna? You okay?"
She looked up quickly, her ears standing straight. "Yes! Fine! I was just... thinking."
"About what?"
Their eyes met, and for a moment the noisy rooftop seemed to fade away.
"About Sunday," she said softly.
Kaede squealed. "Oh my god, you two are so cute!"
Luna's face went bright red. "Kaede!"
"What? It's true!" Kaede grinned mischievously. "Come on, Luna, what are you getting him?"
"That's... I mean... it's a surprise," Luna managed, her tail puffing up with embarrassment.
Hiro smiled gently. "You really don't have to get me anything."
"I want to," Luna said, meeting his eyes again. The sincerity in her voice made something warm bloom in Hiro's chest.
Takeshi stood up, stretching. "Well, whatever we do, it's going to be awesome. And Hiro—" He pointed dramatically. "You have to transform! We want to see your wolf form again!"
"I don't think—"
"Come on! You're so cool when you transform!"
The bell rang, saving Hiro from having to respond. The group gathered their things, chattering as they headed back to class. But Hiro couldn't help noticing the way Luna kept glancing at him, her expression a mixture of nervousness and determination.
Something was weighing on her mind. He just wished he knew what.
The afternoon sun slanted through the classroom windows, turning the dust motes into floating gold. The teacher droned on about historical treaties between human and demi-human nations, but Luna heard none of it.
Her notebook lay open in front of her, but instead of notes, the pages were filled with doodles and crossed-out ideas:
*Scarf? (Too generic)*
*Book? (Which one?)*
*Homemade cookies again? (Did that for Valentine's)*
*Music? (What does he even listen to?)*
*Something handmade? (But what?)*
Her pencil hovered over the page, and she added another option:
*Something that says: it's okay to be yourself*
She stared at those words, her ears drooping slightly. That was it, wasn't it? That was what she really wanted to give him. Not just an object, but a message. Permission. Acceptance.
Hiro spent so much time in his human form, carefully controlled, never letting himself fully relax into his true nature. Even around friends, there was always a careful restraint, a sense that he was monitoring himself, holding back.
Luna wanted to give him something that said: *I see all of you, and I love all of you.*
Her tail twitched nervously against her chair. Was that too much? Too forward? They weren't officially dating, even though everyone treated them like a couple. They'd grown closer over the months since the mall incident, spending time together, texting late into the night, but neither had explicitly said the words.
*Maybe this gift could be the first step,* she thought. *Maybe...*
"Ms. Shirogane?"
Luna's ears shot straight up. The history teacher was looking at her expectantly.
"Um... yes?"
"Could you answer the question?"
Luna's mind went blank. "The... question?"
Yuki, sitting next to her, whispered: "Treaty of Kyoto, 1987."
"The Treaty of Kyoto, 1987!" Luna blurted out.
The teacher frowned. "That was the previous question. I asked about the Yokohama Accords."
Scattered laughter from the class. Luna's face burned with embarrassment as her ears flattened against her head.
"Perhaps you could pay attention instead of doodling, Ms. Shirogane."
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."
As the teacher returned to the lesson, Yuki leaned over and whispered, "You've got it bad, girl."
Luna didn't argue.
The final bell rang like liberation.
Students poured out of Seika Academy, a river of uniforms and chatter flowing through the gates. The late afternoon sun painted everything in warm amber light.
Hiro emerged with a group of male classmates, his bag slung over one shoulder. They surrounded him like a sports team around their star player.
"So, Hiro! Birthday plans?" asked one student with spiky hair.
"Nothing big," Hiro said with a modest smile. "Just family dinner probably."
"Come on!" Another student threw an arm around his shoulders. "You should have a party! Invite everyone!"
"Yeah!" A third chimed in. "And you have to transform! We want to see your wolf form again!"
They crowded closer, excitement building, asking questions rapid-fire:
"Can you do it right now?"
"How fast can you run?"
"Is it true you fought those guys at the mall?"
"What's it feel like when you change?"
Hiro felt the familiar pressure building—the weight of expectations, of being seen as special, different, other. He smiled politely, giving vague answers, but inside he felt something tighten in his chest.
He didn't hate his wolf form. He'd made peace with it over the months. But it was still complicated, still raw. His transformation wasn't a party trick. It was intimate, vulnerable, a piece of himself he shared carefully.
"Maybe," he said diplomatically. "We'll see."
The boys seemed satisfied with that non-answer, and the conversation shifted to other topics as they walked toward the school gates.
At the gate, Luna, Yuki, and Kaede were waiting.
"There they are!" Kaede waved enthusiastically.
The group merged, falling into their usual formation as they walked toward the train station. Hiro found himself naturally drifting toward Luna's side, and she toward his. It was unconscious now, this gravitational pull between them.
"How was the rest of your day?" he asked her quietly while the others chatted ahead.
"Fine," Luna said, then hesitated. "Actually... I had trouble concentrating."
"Yeah?" Hiro glanced at her, concerned. "Something wrong?"
"No, just... thinking about things."
"What kind of things?"
Luna's ears twitched. "Sunday things."
Hiro smiled. "You're really serious about this birthday celebration, huh?"
"It's important," Luna said firmly. Her tail swished with emphasis. "You're important."
The simplicity of those words hit Hiro harder than any elaborate speech could have. "Luna..."
They passed a shopping district, vibrant storefronts displaying everything from clothes to electronics to artisan chocolates.
Suddenly, Kaede stopped walking. "Oh! We just remembered—we need to grab something!"
Yuki caught on immediately, her rabbit ears perking up. "Yeah! Girl stuff! You boys go ahead!"
Takeshi frowned. "Girl stuff? What kind of—"
Kaede physically turned him around and gave him a gentle push. "Don't ask questions! See you tomorrow!"
Hiro looked back at Luna, concerned. "Are you sure you don't need me to wait? I don't mind—"
"No!" Luna said quickly, her face reddening. "I'm fine! Go home! We'll text later!"
Hiro studied her for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but Takeshi was already pulling him along. "Come on, man. When girls say 'girl stuff,' you don't question it. That's basic survival."
The boys disappeared down the street.
The moment they were out of sight, Kaede whirled on Luna. "Okay! Operation Birthday Gift is officially underway!"
The three girls stood at the entrance to the shopping district like generals surveying a battlefield.
"What are we getting Hiro?" Kaede asked, hands on her hips.
"Something meaningful!" Yuki bounced on her toes, her floppy ears bouncing with her.
They started walking, weaving between other shoppers, examining store windows. A clothing boutique displayed stylish jackets—too impersonal. A bookstore had stacks of bestsellers—but which ones did Hiro even like? An accessory shop glittered with watches and bracelets—too generic.
Luna trailed behind, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer number of choices.
"I don't know what he'd like," she admitted, her ears drooping.
Kaede looped her arm through Luna's, pulling her along. "Okay, let's think about this strategically. What does he need? What would make him happy?"
Luna was quiet for a long moment as they walked. They passed a sports store, a game shop, a music store. Each one represented a possibility, but none felt right.
"He's always... hiding," Luna said finally, her voice soft. "Suppressing himself. Even with us, even when he's comfortable, there's a part of him he keeps locked away. I want to give him something that says... it's okay to be himself. All of himself. The human and the wolf."
Yuki and Kaede exchanged meaningful looks over Luna's head.
"Then we'll find THAT gift," Yuki said firmly, squeezing Luna's arm.
They continued searching as the sun began to set, painting the shop windows in shades of orange and gold. Somewhere in this district, among thousands of items, was the perfect gift. Luna just had to find it.
And maybe, while giving it, she'd find the courage to say the words that had been building in her heart for months.
Three hundred kilometers away, in a facility that officially didn't exist, The General stood before a reinforced door.
The Unknown Man stood beside her, his earlier confidence replaced by tension. His expensive suit looked out of place in these utilitarian corridors, among armed guards and security checkpoints.
"How confident are you in them?" The General asked, her voice echoing slightly in the concrete hallway.
"Very," he replied. "They're the best we have. Perfect success rate on previous operations."
"Against animals and rabid demi-humans." The General's eyes were hard. "This target is different."
"I'm aware."
She input a code into the keypad beside the door—a twelve-digit sequence that changed hourly. Her thumb pressed against a biometric scanner. There was a heavy mechanical sound, like vault locks disengaging.
The door opened with a pneumatic hiss.
The room beyond was stark and minimal. Concrete walls, fluorescent lights, basic furniture. It looked more like a prison cell than living quarters, which was precisely the point.
Three figures sat within, and when they rose to their feet, there was a predatory grace to their movements.
**Scar** was the first to stand. Male, early thirties, with the lean, dangerous build of someone who had survived when he shouldn't have. His face was marked by a jagged scar running from his temple to his jaw—hence the name. But it was his eyes that truly unsettled: cold, empty, like looking into a frozen lake. He was demi-human, with wolf features just visible enough to identify—pointed ears, sharp canines when he spoke. But there was something wrong about him, something that screamed self-hatred with every movement.
**Blade** was next. Male, mid-twenties, human, with the precise movements of a master craftsman. His dark hair was cut military-short, his face expressionless. He wore tactical gear like a second skin, and his fingers never stopped moving—checking weapons, adjusting straps, always preparing. A weapons specialist who spoke in calculations and kill zones.
**Io** was the last to rise, and she did so with liquid grace. Female, early twenties, human, with features that would have been beautiful if they weren't so cold. Long dark hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, athletic build, eyes that missed nothing. She was a stealth expert, the kind of killer who got close without being seen, struck without being heard.
They were called the Pack, though there was nothing cooperative about them. They were three separate weapons aimed at the same target.
The General entered the room, and all three snapped to attention with military precision.
"At ease," she said, and they relaxed slightly, though they never truly relaxed.
She pulled two photographs from a folder and held them up.
The first showed a teenage boy in a school uniform, smiling at the camera. Dark hair, gentle eyes, completely ordinary.
The second showed a creature from nightmares—a massive wolf-human hybrid, seven feet tall, with black fur streaked through with burning orange, eyes that glowed with inner fire, claws that could tear through steel.
"This is your target," The General said, her voice flat and professional. "Hiro Mizuki. Age seventeen. Transforming beast folk. One of the most powerful demi-humans we've encountered."
She handed the photographs to Scar, who studied them with detached interest.
"You've been training for years," The General continued. "Killing beasts. Monsters. Abominations that threatened human settlements. This is what you've prepared for."
Blade spoke for the first time, his voice clipped and efficient. "Location?"
"Seika Academy in the city. He attends daily. Lives in the residential district nearby." She handed over a thick file. "Full details are in there. Surveillance reports, behavior patterns, known associates."
Io stepped forward slightly. "When do we move?" Her voice was quiet, almost gentle—which somehow made it more disturbing.
"Immediately. Your transport leaves in two hours." The General's eyes swept across all three of them. "But understand this: he may not LOOK dangerous in human form, but don't underestimate him. We've had reports of his capabilities. He's stronger than anything you've faced before."
Scar's scarred face twisted into something that might have been a smile. "Finally, a worthy target."
"This isn't a game," The General said sharply. "Find him. Capture him if possible—we need him alive for the project. But if he resists, if there's any chance of him escaping or exposing the operation—"
She let the pause stretch.
"Kill him."
The word hung in the air like smoke.
"Questions?" The General asked.
None. These weren't people who asked questions.
"Good. You have your orders. Don't fail me."
She turned and left, her footsteps echoing down the corridor. The heavy door sealed behind her with a mechanical finality.
The three assassins stood in silence for a moment.
Then they moved.
Scar walked to the weapons locker on the far wall, inputting his personal code. The cabinet opened to reveal an arsenal: silver-coated blades, specialized ammunition, tactical equipment designed specifically for hunting demi-humans.
He selected a pair of curved daggers, the metal gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Silver, blessed and sharpened to molecular precision. He'd killed seventeen demi-humans with these blades. Lucky seventeen.
Blade was already at the tactical table, spreading out maps of the city, marking locations with precise movements. "Seika Academy here. Residential district here. Multiple egress routes. We'll need three observation points to maintain visual coverage."
"I'll take the high ground," Io said, checking her stealth suit—a black tactical outfit with sound-dampening fabric and thermal masking. "Rooftops, oversee the whole area."
Scar looked at the photo of Hiro's wolf form again. Those glowing eyes stared back at him from the glossy paper. Something in his chest twisted—not fear, not exactly. Recognition. That could have been him, if he'd taken a different path. If he'd accepted what he was instead of hating it.
He crushed the photo in his fist.
"So you're the monster everyone's afraid of," he muttered. His own wolf ears flattened against his skull. "Not for long."
Blade glanced up from his maps. "Personal feelings won't help us complete the mission."
"I don't have personal feelings," Scar said coldly. "I have a job. And I'm good at my job."
"We all are," Io said softly, strapping a thigh holster to her leg. "That's why we're here."
They continued preparing in efficient silence—weapons checked, equipment tested, contingencies planned. They'd worked together long enough to move like parts of a single machine.
But if any of them felt hesitation about hunting a seventeen-year-old boy, they didn't show it.
That's what made them perfect for this job.
Evening settled over the city like a comfortable blanket.
In his apartment, Hiro sat at his desk, textbook open, trying to focus on homework. Math equations blurred together on the page. He'd read the same problem three times without processing it.
His phone buzzed. A text from Luna:
"Are you free this Sunday? "
He smiled despite himself, picking up the phone.
"My birthday? Yeah, why?"
Three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again. He could practically see her typing and deleting and retyping.
"Just wondering! "
Hiro stared at that blue heart for longer than was probably normal. It wasn't the first time she'd used it—Luna used emojis liberally in her texts—but somehow it felt significant.
He typed back: "We're all hanging out, right? The whole group?"
"Of course! It'll be fun! "
He set the phone down, but couldn't stop smiling. There was something in Luna's messages today, an undercurrent of nervousness and excitement that was almost palpable even through text.
"She's planning something," he said to the empty room.
Outside his window, the city lights were beginning to twinkle to life. Somewhere out there, his friends were going about their evening—Luna probably still shopping with the girls, Takeshi likely gaming in his room, Kaede doing whatever Kaede did with endless energy.
It was peaceful. Normal.
Hiro let himself relax into that normalcy, not knowing how precious these ordinary moments were about to become.
Across town, in Luna's apartment, she lay on her bed staring at the ceiling.
A wrapped gift sat on her desk—carefully chosen, lovingly wrapped in blue paper with a silver ribbon. She'd found it after an hour of searching, and the moment she saw it, she knew it was perfect.
But now, looking at it, the anxiety was building.
What if he doesn't like it? What if it's too much? What if I'm reading too much into our friendship and he doesn't feel the same way and this makes everything weird and—
Her tail was twitching frantically, a sure sign of internal panic.
There was a soft knock on her door.
"Luna? Everything okay?" Her mother's voice, warm and concerned.
"Yes! Fine!" Luna sat up quickly, trying to look casual.
The door opened, and her mother entered—an older version of Luna, with the same white wolf ears and tail, the same gentle eyes. She took one look at her daughter and smiled knowingly.
"Is this about Hiro's birthday?"
Luna's face went bright red. "How did you—?!"
Her mother laughed softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Luna, sweetheart. A mother knows. You've been distracted for days, and that gift has been sitting on your desk looking at you accusingly since you brought it home."
Luna glanced at the wrapped package. "Is it too much?"
"What did you get him?"
"I can't tell you! It's... it's personal."
Her mother reached out, gently touching one of Luna's ears in the way that had soothed her since childhood. "Whatever you got him, he'll love it. Do you know why?"
"Because... it's expensive?" Luna tried weakly.
"Because it's from YOU." Her mother's smile was soft, understanding. "That boy looks at you like you hung the moon, Luna. Trust me. Whatever you give him will be precious to him because you chose it."
Luna felt tears prickling at her eyes. "What if I mess this up? What if I say the wrong thing or—"
"Then you'll be human. Or beast , technically." Her mother pulled her into a hug. "Love isn't about being perfect, sweetie. It's about being honest. And brave."
Luna hugged her mother tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of home and safety.
"Thanks, Mom."
"Anytime. Now, do your homework. And stop staring at that gift—it's not going to wrap itself any better."
After her mother left, Luna looked at the gift again. Her tail had stopped its anxious twitching.
Honest and brave, she thought. I can do that.
I hope. Friday morning came with clear skies and the promise of weekend freedom.
The rooftop was becoming their sanctuary—a place where the rules of school and society felt distant, where they could just be themselves.
Lunch was a chaotic affair, with everyone talking over each other, sharing food, laughing at Takeshi's terrible jokes.
"—and then the teacher caught him sleeping and he tried to pretend he was 'resting his eyes'!" Kaede was saying, making Yuki giggle so hard her rabbit ears shook.
Hiro sat with his back against the railing, content to listen. Luna sat nearby, closer than necessary, her tail occasionally brushing against his arm.
"So!" Kaede suddenly sat up straight, her voice taking on that dangerous enthusiasm that meant she was planning something. "Sunday! Hiro's birthday! We're ALL celebrating together, right?"
A chorus of agreement.
"Where should we go?" Takeshi asked through a mouthful of rice. "Karaoke again?"
"Or that restaurant near the station?" Yuki suggested.
"Or we could do something outdoors!" Kaede was getting excited now. "Like hiking! Or—"
"Guys, you really don't have to go to all this trouble," Hiro interjected, feeling overwhelmed by the escalating plans.
"We want to," Luna said softly.
Everyone fell silent, looking at her.
She met Hiro's eyes, her expression serious. "You're important to all of us. We want to celebrate you."
The sincerity in her voice made Hiro's chest feel tight. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out that felt adequate.
"Plus," Takeshi added, breaking the tension, "it's an excuse for us all to hang out and eat good food. Win-win!"
Everyone laughed, and the moment passed, but Hiro couldn't stop looking at Luna.
You're important to all of us, she'd said.
But the way she'd looked at him when she said it suggested she meant something more than "all of us." Later, as they packed up their lunch boxes, Yuki pulled Luna aside.
"Okay, spill," the rabbit girl whispered. "What's going on?"
"What do you mean?" Luna tried to look innocent.
"Luna Shirogane, I've known you since elementary school. I can tell when you're planning something." Yuki's ears were standing straight up, fully attentive. "You've been restless all week. Your tail keeps twitching. And the way you looked at Hiro just now—"
Luna sighed. "I'm just... nervous. About giving him his gift."
"Why? You gave him cookies on Valentine's Day and he loved them!"
"This is different." Luna's voice dropped even lower. "It's more... meaningful. Personal."
Yuki's eyes went wide. "How personal are we talking?"
"It's... it's something that says how much he means to me. That says I see him. All of him. The human and the wolf."
"Luna..." Yuki grabbed her friend's shoulders. "Are you going to confess?"
"NO! I mean—maybe? I don't know!" Luna was panicking now, her ears flattening. "I want to give him the gift first and see how he reacts and maybe if that goes well then—"
"Oh my gosh, this is SO CUTE!" Yuki hugged her tightly. "You're in love with him!"
"Shh! Not so loud!" Luna glanced around frantically, but thankfully everyone else was out of earshot.
"You are though, aren't you?" Yuki pulled back, her expression softer now, more serious. "In love with him."
Luna was quiet for a long moment. Then, so softly it was almost inaudible: "Yes."
The admission felt huge, terrifying, real. She'd thought it before, felt it, but saying it out loud to someone else made it concrete.
"Does he know?"
"I don't know. Maybe? We're... something. More than friends. But we've never actually talked about it."
"So Sunday could be—"
"Sunday could be a lot of things," Luna said. "Or nothing. I don't know yet."
Yuki squeezed her hand. "Whatever happens, I'm here for you. We all are."
"Thanks, Yuki."
"Besides," Yuki grinned mischievously, "I give it fifty-fifty odds that he confesses first. Have you seen the way he looks at you?"
Luna's face went red. "He does not—"
"Girl. He absolutely does. You're both completely oblivious, and it's adorable and frustrating."
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.
As they headed back to class, Luna caught Hiro's eye. He smiled at her—that gentle, genuine smile that made her heart do complicated things in her chest.
Three more days, she thought. Just three more days until Sunday.
Please let me have the courage to do this.
The evening was settling into night, that liminal time when the city transformed from a place of business into something more mysterious.
Three figures emerged from the train station, blending seamlessly with the Friday evening crowd. They dressed like civilians—Scar in a dark jacket and jeans, Blade in business casual, Io in fashionable athletic wear that allowed freedom of movement while hiding her lethal capabilities.
To any casual observer, they were unremarkable. Just three more people in a city of millions.
But their eyes never stopped moving, cataloging exits, identifying threats, marking potential obstacles.
They walked two blocks and stopped across from Seika Academy.
The school building was dark now, students long gone, only security lights casting pools of illumination across the courtyard.
Blade pulled out a tablet, its screen showing thermal imaging and architectural layouts. "Target confirmed attending. Class schedule indicates he's here Monday through Friday, eight AM to four PM. Multiple exits—main gate, side entrance, emergency exits here and here."
"Security?" Scar asked.
"Minimal. Standard school security, older guards, no weapons. Response time from local police estimated at seven minutes." Blade's fingers moved across the tablet, pulling up more data. "Not a problem."
Io was already scanning the surrounding buildings, her eyes calculating distances and angles. "Rooftop access on the building across from the main gate. Clear sightlines to all exits. I can set up observation there."
"Residential patterns?" Scar asked.
Blade swiped to another screen. "According to our intelligence, the target lives approximately fifteen minutes northeast on foot. Small apartment complex. Third floor, corner unit. He typically walks home with a group of friends, splits off at the intersection of Sakura Street and—"
"There."
Io's quiet voice cut through Blade's report. She was looking across the street, utterly still.
Both men followed her gaze.
A teenage boy was exiting through the side gate of the school building. Dark hair, casual clothes, bag slung over one shoulder. He was laughing at something, head turned to talk to someone behind him.
"That's him," Blade confirmed, checking the photo on his tablet against the distant figure. "Hiro Mizuki. Human form."
Scar studied the boy with cold intensity. From this distance, he looked so... ordinary. Young. Vulnerable. Nothing like the monster in the second photograph.
Don't be fooled, Scar reminded himself. Monsters hide in human skins all the time.
He should know.
A group of students emerged with Hiro—a stocky boy with an easy smile, a human girl with bright eyes, a rabbit demi-human with floppy ears, and—
Scar's eyes narrowed.
A white wolf girl. Beautiful, delicate, walking close to the target. Very close.
"The white wolf," Io noted. "She's in multiple surveillance photos. Luna Shirogane. Age seventeen. Classmate. They appear... close."
Scar watched the way Hiro and Luna walked together. The unconscious lean toward each other. The way their hands almost touched but didn't quite. The soft smile on the boy's face as he looked at her.
"Potential leverage," Blade said clinically, making a note on his tablet. "If capture proves difficult, we could use her to force compliance."
Something twisted in Scar's chest—not quite conscience, but something adjacent to it. He crushed the feeling immediately.
"Focus on the primary target," he said. "Learn his patterns first. Observe."
The group of students walked down the street, their laughter carrying on the evening breeze. They stopped at a convenience store, went inside, emerged with drinks and snacks. Normal teenage behavior. Innocent.
The three assassins followed at a distance.
Hiro was acutely aware of Luna walking beside him, the way her tail swished with contentment, how her ears perked up whenever he spoke. The others were ahead—Takeshi arguing with Kaede about some movie, Yuki bouncing between them trying to mediate.
"You're quiet," Luna observed.
"Just thinking," Hiro said.
"About?"
"Sunday. You guys really don't need to make a big deal out of it."
Luna bumped his shoulder gently with hers. "We want to. I want to."
The simple honesty in her words made him smile. "Thank you."
They walked in comfortable silence for a moment. The evening was pleasant, warm without being hot, with the smell of street food vendors beginning to set up for the night market.
"Hiro?" Luna's voice was softer now, almost hesitant.
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Always."
She was quiet for a long moment, and he could see her struggling with the words. Her tail had stopped swishing and was now held still, tense.
"Do you ever wish you could just... be yourself? Without worrying about what people think?"
The question caught him off guard. He thought carefully before answering.
"Sometimes," he admitted. "It's exhausting, always being careful. Always monitoring myself." He looked down at his human hands. "But I'm getting better at it. Having you guys—having you—makes it easier."
Luna's ears perked up slightly. "Having me?"
Hiro felt heat rise to his face. "I mean, having friends who accept both parts of me. Who don't see the wolf as something scary or wrong. That helps."
"I never think of you as scary," Luna said firmly. "Strong, yes. Powerful. But never scary. Not to me."
Their eyes met, and for a moment the busy street seemed to fade away.
"Luna—" Hiro started, but Takeshi's voice broke the moment.
"Yo! You two coming or what? We're gonna miss the train!"
They hurried to catch up, but Hiro couldn't shake the feeling that Luna had been about to say something important.
From across the street, concealed in the shadows of a closed storefront, three pairs of eyes watched every movement.
"Clear affection between them," Io noted. "The body language is obvious."
"Noted," Blade said, capturing photos with a high-resolution camera. "Relationship could be exploited if necessary."
Scar said nothing, but his jaw was clenched. He watched the way the target smiled at the white wolf girl, protective and gentle. The way she looked at him like he'd hung the stars in the sky.
Young love, he thought with bitter contempt. How naive.
The group split up at the train station—the two girls going in one direction, the boys in another. The assassins followed the boys, maintaining careful distance.
Hiro and Takeshi talked and laughed, completely unaware of the predators tracking them. They stopped at a convenience store, bought drinks, continued walking.
Finally, at an intersection, they said goodbye. Takeshi went left, Hiro continued straight.
"He's alone," Blade said quietly into his earpiece. "Moving northeast on Sakura Street."
From her position on a rooftop three blocks away, Io's voice crackled back: "I have visual. Tracking."
Hiro walked alone now, hands in his pockets, headphones in his ears. Still so vulnerable. So unaware.
Scar followed from the opposite side of the street, using parked cars and pedestrians for cover. His hand rested on the knife hidden beneath his jacket.
It would be so easy, he thought. Right now. Quick, clean. Before he even knew what was happening.
But the orders were clear: observe first. Learn patterns. Then strike when optimal conditions were met.
Still, Scar's fingers itched.
The target turned down a side street, approaching a modest apartment building. He stopped to check his phone, smiling at something on the screen. Then he entered the building, disappearing from view.
"Target has entered residence," Blade said, marking the location on his tablet. "Third floor, corner unit, northeast side."
"I can see his window from here," Io reported. "Lights just came on."
"Good," Scar said. "We have our location. Blade, work on access points and security. Io, maintain observation. I want to know his routine—when he sleeps, when he wakes, when he's alone."
"Understood."
"And tomorrow, we follow him all day. Map every location he visits, every person he interacts with, every moment of vulnerability."
Scar looked up at the lit window on the third floor. Behind that glass, a seventeen-year-old boy was probably doing homework, or texting his girlfriend, or living whatever normal life he thought he had.
He had no idea that death had found his address.
"Phase Two begins now," Scar said quietly. "By Monday, one way or another, that boy is ours."
In his apartment, Hiro sat at his desk, chemistry textbook open but ignored.
His phone buzzed again. Another text from Luna:
"Thanks for walking with me today. "
He smiled, typing back: "Anytime. You okay? You seemed like you wanted to say something earlier."
Three dots appeared, then disappeared. Appeared again. Finally:
"I'll tell you Sunday. It's important."
Hiro stared at that message, his heart rate picking up slightly.
"Good important or bad important?"
"Good, I think. I hope. "
"Now I'm curious."
"You'll just have to wait. Goodnight, Hiro."
"Goodnight, Luna."
He set his phone down, but couldn't focus on homework. What did she want to tell him? Why Sunday specifically? Why did it feel like something was about to change?
Outside his window, the city hummed with its usual nighttime energy. Somewhere out there, Luna was probably getting ready for bed. Takeshi was probably gaming. Kaede was probably planning something elaborate for Sunday.
Everything felt normal. Safe.
Hiro had no idea that across the street, in the shadows between streetlights, someone was watching his window with the cold calculation of a predator planning an attack.
He had no idea that the government he'd cooperated with, the officials he'd trusted, had decided he was too dangerous to live free.
He had no idea that Sunday—his eighteenth birthday, the day Luna planned to confess her feelings, the day that should have been perfect—was about to become the day everything changed.
Saturday morning broke clear and bright.
Luna woke early, her internal clock refusing to let her sleep past seven even on weekends. She lay in bed for a moment, staring at the wrapped gift on her desk, anxiety and excitement warring in her chest.
Tomorrow. Just one more day.
She grabbed her phone, scrolling through messages. The group chat was already active despite the early hour:
KAEDE: "PARTY PLANNING MEETING TODAY! My house! 2 PM! Be there or be square!"
YUKI: "Do people still say 'be square'? "
KAEDE: "I DO! "
TAKESHI: "I'll be there. Should I bring anything?"
KAEDE: "Just your ENTHUSIASM! "
Luna smiled, typing: "I'll be there. Should we keep this a surprise from Hiro?"
KAEDE: "YES! Someone make sure he doesn't accidentally show up!"
TAKESHI: "On it. I'll keep him distracted."**
Luna set her phone down, her smile fading into nervousness. Tomorrow she'd give Hiro his gift. Tomorrow she'd tell him how she felt. Tomorrow everything would change, for better or worse.
Please let it be better, she thought.
Across the city, in a hotel room that the government was paying for under a false company name, three assassins reviewed their surveillance footage.
The laptop screen showed Hiro's movements from yesterday—entering school, eating lunch on the rooftop, walking home, entering his apartment. Time stamps, location markers, behavioral notes.
"He's a creature of habit," Blade observed, pointing to patterns in the data. "Same routes, same locations, same social group. Predictable."
"That makes our job easier," Io said. She was cleaning a knife with methodical precision, the blade catching the morning light.
Scar studied a particular frame—Hiro laughing at something Luna said, his guard completely down. "What about Sunday?"
"His birthday," Blade pulled up more intelligence. "Social media indicates his friends are planning a gathering. Location not yet confirmed, but likely somewhere public—restaurant, entertainment venue."
"Public means witnesses," Io noted. "Complications."
"Public also means he'll be distracted. Off-guard." Scar leaned back in his chair, thinking. "We'll maintain observation. If an opportunity presents itself—"
"What about the friends?" Blade asked. "Rules of engagement if they interfere?"
Scar's expression hardened. "Non-lethal force if possible. But the mission takes priority. If they become obstacles..." He let the implication hang.
Io said nothing, just continued sharpening her knife.
"Today we observe," Scar said. "Map his weekend patterns. Tomorrow we decide—capture or kill. Either way, by Monday morning, Hiro Mizuki will no longer be a problem."
Hiro spent Saturday doing what most seventeen-year-old boys did on their day off—absolutely nothing productive.
He slept in until ten, made breakfast, played video games, responded to texts from friends. Takeshi had invited him to hang out, but Hiro had declined, content to have a quiet day alone.
He didn't notice the woman jogging past his apartment building three times, her route somehow always bringing her past his windows. He didn't notice the man in the parked car across the street who seemed to be perpetually checking his phone. He didn't notice the surveillance equipment capturing his every movement.
In the afternoon, he went to the convenience store for snacks. He browsed the manga section, bought a drink, chatted briefly with the cashier who'd seen him enough times to recognize him.
"Big plans for your birthday?" the elderly cashier asked as she bagged his purchases.
"Just hanging with friends," Hiro said with a smile.
"That's nice. You kids enjoy yourselves."
He walked home in the afternoon sunshine, headphones in, completely at peace.
From a rooftop two buildings away, Io tracked him through a scope. Not the scope of a rifle—not yet—just surveillance equipment. But she calculated the shot anyway. Wind speed, distance, trajectory. Professional habit.
"Target is returning home," she said into her earpiece. "Still following predictable patterns. No indication of awareness."
"Good," Scar's voice crackled back. "Maintain observation. Report any deviations."
Hiro entered his building, and Io relaxed slightly, lowering the scope. Tomorrow would be the day. She could feel it. That electric anticipation that came before a mission reached its culmination.
By this time tomorrow, either Hiro Mizuki would be in a government facility, or he'd be dead.
Either way, Io would collect her payment and move on to the next target.
It was just business. At Kaede's house, the planning meeting was in full, chaotic swing.
Her living room was covered in streamers, party supplies, and print-outs of restaurant menus. Kaede stood at the center like a general commanding troops, clipboard in hand.
"Okay! So we've narrowed it down to three options!" She pointed to three different menus spread across the coffee table. "Yakiniku, Italian, or that new fusion place downtown!"
"Hiro likes meat," Takeshi offered. "Yakiniku might be good."
"But the Italian place has that nice private room," Yuki countered. "More intimate."
Luna sat on the couch, only half-listening. Her mind was elsewhere, playing through different scenarios for tomorrow. Different ways to give him the gift. Different things she might say.
"Hiro, I got you this because I wanted you to know..."
No, too formal.
"Hey, so, I really care about you and..."
Too casual.
"I love you."
Too direct. Way too direct. Absolutely terrifying.
"Luna? LUNA?"
She blinked, realizing Kaede was waving a hand in front of her face.
"Sorry, what?"
"I asked which restaurant you think Hiro would like best?"
Luna looked at the menus, trying to focus. "Um... the yakiniku? He does love meat. Wolf thing, probably."
"Yakiniku it is!" Kaede made a note on her clipboard with a flourish. "Now, decorations. I was thinking—"
"Kaede," Luna interrupted gently. "Maybe we shouldn't go overboard? Hiro gets uncomfortable when too much attention is on him."
Kaede paused, considering. "You're right. Okay, minimal decorations. Just a small 'Happy Birthday' banner and maybe some balloons?"
"Perfect."
The planning continued—who would arrive when, who would bring what, how they'd surprise him. But Luna's mind kept drifting to the wrapped gift in her room.
She hadn't told anyone what was inside. Not even Yuki. It felt too personal, too revealing.
Tomorrow, she'd give it to him. Tomorrow, she'd tell him how she felt.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
Please let it be ready for this, she thought. Please let him feel the same way.
Sunday arrived with perfect weather.
Hiro woke to his phone buzzing with birthday messages:
TAKESHI: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MAN! "**
KAEDE: "Happy 18th! Get ready for an AMAZING day!"**
YUKI: "Happy birthday!"**
And then, making his heart skip:
LUNA: "Happy birthday, Hiro. I hope today is special. Can't wait to see you. "
He lay in bed, smiling at that message. The blue heart. Can't wait to see you.
Something was definitely happening today. He could feel it.
After breakfast with his parents (who gave him a card and some spending money), Hiro got dressed carefully. Not too formal, but nice. He caught himself checking his appearance in the mirror multiple times and felt ridiculous.
It's just hanging out with friends, he told himself. Like always.
But it didn't feel like always.
His phone buzzed—a text from Takeshi: "Meet at the station at 5 PM! Don't be late!"
Five PM. That gave him the whole day to be anxious.
In a hotel room, Scar checked his weapons one final time.
"Today's the day," he said to his reflection. "One way or another, this ends today."
His phone buzzed—a message from The General:
"Status?"
He typed back: "Target's birthday. Meeting friends at 5 PM. Location being confirmed. We'll be ready."
"Rules of engagement unchanged. Capture preferred. Elimination authorized if necessary. Minimize civilian casualties but complete the mission."
"Understood."
Scar stared at the photo of Hiro Mizuki on his tablet. This young boy who'd done nothing wrong except exist. Who was spending his eighteenth birthday with friends, completely unaware that death was coming for him.
For just a moment, Scar felt something like regret.
Then he crushed it, just like he'd crushed every other feeling over the years.
"It's just business," he said to the empty room.
The words rang hollow.
At 4:45 PM, Hiro left his apartment, dressed nicely, a small bag with him.
From her position on a nearby rooftop, Io spoke into her earpiece: "Target is mobile. Heading toward the station."
"I have visual," Blade confirmed from street level. "He's carrying a bag. Possibly overnight supplies."
"Stay on him," Scar ordered. "Once we confirm the location, we move."
The three assassins converged, following Hiro through the evening streets.
The boy was smiling, checking his phone, completely unaware of the predators in his wake.
At the station, Hiro found his friends waiting. Takeshi, Yuki, Kaede—all dressed up and grinning.
And Luna.
She wore a soft blue dress that matched her eyes, her white fur groomed to perfection, her tail swishing nervously. She held a wrapped gift against her chest like a shield.
When she saw him, her face lit up with a smile that made Hiro's breath catch.
"Happy birthday," she said softly as he approached.
"Thank you. You look... wow."
Luna's ears turned pink. "Thanks. You look good too."
"So!" Kaede clapped her hands. "Everyone ready? We have reservations!"
As they walked toward the restaurant, Luna fell into step beside Hiro. Their hands brushed, and this time, neither pulled away.
"I have something for you," Luna said quietly. "For later. When it's just us."
"You didn't have to get me anything."
"I wanted to." Her voice was firm, determined. "It's important."
Behind them, maintaining careful distance, three assassins followed.
The hunt was entering its final phase.
And none of the happy teenagers laughing in the evening light had any idea that this perfect birthday was about to become a nightmare.