The evening had settled over the city like a heavy blanket, darker and more restless than usual. Yuki stood in front of the mirror in his room, adjusting the hood of his black hoodie. It was late July, but the air outside carried the sharp bite of incoming rain. He had chosen practicality over style tonight—no umbrella, just the hoodie, comfortable camo joggers, and sturdy military boots that gave him a grounded, almost imposing silhouette. The combination actually looked good on him, the dark fabric hugging his broad shoulders and the boots adding a touch of edge to his otherwise casual recovery look. The heavy cast on his right arm was the only thing that ruined the outfit, a constant, irritating reminder of the tournament's toll.
He stepped out into the living room where Yukari and Luna were already settled on the couch. Luna looked up first, her big black eyes curious and a little worried. Yukari turned, her long blue hair cascading over one shoulder as she studied him.
"Heading out?" Yukari asked, her tone light but laced with that familiar big-sister protectiveness.
"Yeah. Movie with Seri," Yuki replied, forcing a small smile. "Don't wait up if it gets too late."
Luna stood and walked over, wrapping her small arms around his waist in a gentle hug. Yuki ruffled her hair carefully with his good hand. "Be good for Yukari, okay? I'll bring back snacks if the theater has anything decent."
Yukari watched him from the couch, arms crossed. "Stay safe. And text me when you're on your way back."
"Will do." Yuki gave them both a quick wave and stepped outside.
The moment the door closed behind him, the wind hit. It whipped through the streets, carrying the scent of rain and distant thunder. The sky was a bruised purple-gray, streetlights flickering as clouds rolled in fast. Yuki pulled his hood up and started walking, boots thudding against the pavement. His mind, however, wasn't on the movie.
Sophia's situation weighed on him like lead. An arranged marriage at sixteen—to a guy she'd never even met.
Conrad Leonhart. The name alone made his stomach twist. Royals trading daughters for alliances, power, hotels, clothing brands… it was the same rotten system that had let Giyu torture him for years, the same one that had turned Luna into a lab experiment. He hated it. The frustration from the tournament, from his own weakness, from everything, simmered just beneath the surface.
Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Yukari tried to focus on the TV. She had put on some light anime for Luna, but her eyes kept drifting to the window. Something felt off. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, a primal instinct she couldn't ignore. She stood slowly and walked to the window, peering out into the windy darkness.
The street was empty. No one would be out in this weather. Lampposts cast their usual warm pools of light, but one across the street was dark, spilling a patch of deeper shadow into the glow. Yukari narrowed her eyes, focusing. For a split second, she saw it—a large, hulking shadow standing perfectly still beside the broken lamppost. Then the wind howled, and it was gone.
Her heart clenched. She knew that silhouette.
Giyu.
She closed the window firmly, locked it, and double-checked the door. Back on the couch, she placed Kira's main black box on the low table.
"Kira," she said quietly, voice steady but urgent. "Did Yuki take the earpiece?"
"Yes," Kira replied smoothly. "He's wearing it now."
"Good. Monitor him closely. If anything feels even slightly off—vitals, surroundings, anything—tell me immediately."
"Understood," the AI said. After a pause, Kira added, "You're worried about Giyu doing something to Yuki."
Yukari didn't deny it. Haruki had already informed her that their adoptive father had escaped Vanguard custody. She had hoped he would stay hidden, at least for a while. Yukari knew she could beat him in a straight fight—she was Aethelgard, after all. But the last time they clashed, Giyu had held back. Despite his cruelty, he had always loved her like his own daughter but he never showed it. Yuki, however… Yuki was the "failure." The one Giyu had tried to "fix" with pain and isolation.
She pulled Luna closer, trying to focus on the screen. But her mind stayed sharp, ready.
Ten minutes later, Yuki arrived at the movie theater. The wind had grown colder, biting through his hoodie. He hated the cast—it itched, it weighed him down, and it made every movement awkward. Inside the brightly lit lobby, the smell of popcorn and butter filled the air. He spotted Seri at the counter, buying a large tub of popcorn. No bodyguards in sight.
A small grin tugged at his lips despite his heavy thoughts. He crept up behind her quietly and leaned in close to her ear.
"Good evening, Kyorin-san," he whispered.
Seri jumped with a startled yelp, popcorn spilling across the counter. She spun around, green eyes wide, and playfully swatted his chest with her free hand.
"You idiot! You scared me half to death!" she scolded, though a smile was already breaking through. "Don't sneak up on people like that."
Yuki chuckled, helping her gather the scattered kernels. "Sorry. Couldn't resist. Hey, where are your bodyguards? Ren always has them trailing him."
Seri shrugged, paying for the popcorn. "I have them, but I hate it when they follow me everywhere. I can take care of myself. I'm a Paragon, remember?"
They moved into the theater together. Just like last time, the entire screening room was empty—private, quiet, almost intimate. Yuki glanced around as they took their seats in the middle row.
"We really need to start watching more popular movies," he said with a grin. "Feels like we're the only two people in the world who come here."
Seri giggled softly, settling in beside him. "I like it this way. No crowds. No noise. Just… us."
The movie was a romance—sweet, predictable, with beautiful cinematography but nothing groundbreaking. Yuki found himself enjoying it more than he expected, the simple story offering a brief escape from his swirling thoughts about Sophia. About halfway through, a tender kissing scene filled the screen. The two leads leaned in slowly, eyes locked, the music swelling.
Seri shifted nervously in her seat. She glanced sideways at Yuki, her green eyes tracing the line of his jaw, then lingering on his lips. I wonder if they're as soft as they look…
Yuki spoke suddenly, still staring at the screen, a small, genuine smile on his face. "I've never kissed anyone before."
Seri's eyes widened. She had—once, with her ex-boyfriend, another Royal. But Yuki… innocent, dense, kind-hearted Yuki hadn't. The realization made something warm flutter in her chest.
He rested his chin on his good hand, still watching the movie. "I wonder how it feels."
Seri's heart raced. She opened her mouth but said nothing, too flustered to respond.
Then Yuki turned to look at her directly, his light blue eyes steady and curious. "Do you want to kiss?"
The question came without hesitation, without shame—just pure, straightforward Yuki.
Seri's face exploded into crimson. "Y-You can't just give away your first kiss so carelessly!" she stammered, voice higher than usual. "And you're not supposed to ask things like that so bluntly!" She extended her hand towards him, her face flushed even deeper. "You can kiss my hand instead."
Yuki blinked, then gently took her hand in his good one. He brought it to his lips and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the back of her palm. His lips were warmer and softer than she had imagined.
"You smell like flowers." he said lightly, a teasing glint in his eyes.
Seri turned even redder. Unconsciously, her kizo reacted—small, delicate flowers began blooming from the theater seats around them, soft petals unfurling in response to her flustered emotions.
Yuki leaned back in his chair, absently touching his own lips with his fingers. Seri wanted to ask him right then—how he really felt about her, whether this was more than friendship—but the words stuck in her throat. The timing didn't feel right. Not yet.
The movie ended soon after. They stood and headed toward a small hot dog stand inside the building. The savory smell filled the hallway.
That was when they ran into Ren and Emi.
The two Kyorins stopped short, eyes widening. Emi's green hair swayed as she pointed. "Are you two on a date again?"
Seri waved her hands frantically. "N-No! We're just hanging out! That's all!"
Yuki tilted his head. "Where are your bodyguards, Ren?"
Ren shrugged, a faint smirk on his face. "When I'm with Emi, I don't need them. Her plasma blasts can level buildings, and paired with my lightning… anyone stupid enough to mess with us would regret it instantly."
Emi was staring openly at Yuki, her cheeks slightly pink. Seri noticed and shot her a quick glare. Emi yelped and hid behind Yuki, clutching the back of his hoodie like a shield.
The group ended up ordering hot dogs together. As they waited, Emi suddenly suggested, "Hey, why don't we all go to karaoke after this? It'll be fun!"
Yuki and Seri exchanged a glance and agreed.
On the way to the private karaoke room, Emi pulled Ren and Yuki aside. "You two go get some drinks first. Be gentlemen for once!"
Yuki groaned lazily. "Do I have to?"
Emi grinned. "Yes. Now go."
As the boys headed off, Emi and Seri entered the room and sat down on the plush couch. The moment the door clicked shut, Emi leaned in with a mischievous smile.
"So… when are you going to confess to him?"
Seri blinked. "Confess what? I don't feel anything for Yuki like that."
Emi raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. "Really? Because you said you'd follow him around everywhere and that you're never leaving his side."
Seri's face heated up. "T-That's different!"
Emi pressed harder, her questions coming faster. "Different how? You blush every time he smiles at you. You get jealous when other girls look at him. You even threatened to keep him under 'special observation' at school. Come on, Seri—what's really going on?"
Seri squirmed, the pressure mounting. Flowers threatened to bloom again from the couch cushions. "He's weak, okay?!" she blurted out, voice rising in defense. "I'm only following him because he needs protection! He makes stupid decisions and almost gets himself killed all the time. Without people watching his back and without that abnormal physical strength of his, he's just an Acolyte. He's entertaining, sure, but he's weak. He's not like us strong Royals. He needs me to make sure he doesn't end up dead!"
The words tumbled out in a rush, driven by embarrassment and Emi's relentless questioning.
Outside the door, Yuki and Ren had returned with the drinks. The soundproofing in the karaoke rooms was apparently terrible. Every word had come through crystal clear.
Ren's face darkened. He glanced at Yuki, who stood frozen, staring blankly at the closed door. His expression was completely empty—no playful grin, no light in his blue eyes. Just hollow silence.
Ren gritted his teeth and quickly typed a message on his phone. Seri's phone dinged inside the room.
She picked it up, read the text, and her face drained of color.
Ren: Shut up, Seri. Yuki and I are right outside. He heard everything.
The horror hit Seri like a physical blow.
She sprang to her feet and yanked the door open, heart hammering against her ribs.
Yuki and Ren stood there in the hallway. Yuki's face remained perfectly blank, stripped of any emotion. The drinks in his good hand trembled slightly, the plastic bottles clinking against each other in the sudden silence.
"Yuki…" she started, voice cracking as she stepped forward with a pleading expression, green eyes wide and glistening.
Yuki spoke first. His voice was low and steady, carrying the weight of years of buried pain, yet he forced a small, confused tilt of his head and a faint, bewildered smile onto his face.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" He blinked once, as if genuinely puzzled. "It's alright. Everything you said is true anyway."
He paused. The frustration from the entire day—Sophia's wedding, the suffocating hierarchy, his own limits—finally cracked open inside him, but he shoved it down hard. His stomach churned; he felt like he was going to throw up right there in the hallway.
"I'm going to go home now," he continued, the words coming out calm, almost casual. "I'm not feeling very well."
It was obvious what was happening. The mask he wore was paper-thin, but he clung to it anyway.
Seri's breath caught.
"Seri, could you do me a favor?" Yuki stared straight into her eyes and asked, his light blue gaze steady despite the storm raging behind it.
"Y… yes," she stammered, speaking slowly, her voice thick with guilt. "I can do it—as long as it's in my power. I'll do it as an apology for what I said, so you don't have to pay me back."
Yuki handed the drinks to Ren. The clatter of bottles was the only sound breaking the heavy silence.
"Don't follow me around anymore."
The words landed like a slap. Seri's head shot up immediately, her eyes locking onto his. They were cold and distant—nothing like the warm, playful blue she had grown used to.
"Yuki… I'm—" Her voice cracked, pleading, tears already welling up.
But Yuki cut her off before she could finish.
"I do not need your protection. Keep it to yourself." His eyes narrowed. His voice sounded unfamiliar to her—flat, tired, and edged with something raw she had never heard from him before.
Yuki turned without another word and walked away, stepping straight into the harsh winds outside. The moment he crossed the threshold, the storm swallowed him.
Powerful gusts whipped violently around him, tugging at his hoodie. The wind howled through the streets like an angry beast, roaring in his ears and stinging his face. His military boots thudded heavily against the pavement as he pushed forward, the cast on his arm feeling heavier with every step.
Seri's head hung low. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sniffled, her usual haughty composure completely shattered. She stood frozen in the doorway, flowers still faintly blooming and wilting around the karaoke room from the emotional whiplash of her kizo. Ren and Emi stood awkwardly behind her, both looking guilty and unsure what to say. The silence between them felt suffocating.
Yuki kept walking into the windy night. The powerful gusts battered against him relentlessly, threatening to rip the hood from his head. His mood had turned pitch black, perfectly matching the violent weather.
He had always known he was the weakest.
Tonight, it hurt more than ever—because the words had come from the mouth of his crush.