Akio walked along the quiet street, hands in his pockets, phone still buzzing in his jacket with Aira’s texts lighting up the screen every few minutes. She’d already sent three messages, all variations of come get me, each followed by some excited ramble about the “vigilante showdown” and how the authorities were “treating her and Yoru like survivors of a blockbuster movie.”

  He sighed, the kind of long, weary exhale that came from years of being an older brother. Outwardly, he looked calm, but beneath that steady exterior, the remnants of the fight still pulsed under his skin. He could still feel the weight of the mask, the heat of combat clinging to him like static. Now, he was walking through the same district he’d been saving an hour ago, only this time he was just another passerby heading to pick up his reckless sister.

  The police station came into view as he turned the corner—and so did someone else. Black hair, sharp eyes, posture too precise to ever look relaxed.

  Damien. Of course.

  They both stopped mid step, exchanging a long look that said everything and nothing. Akio already knew why he was here. Damien’s expression confirmed it: the same tired resignation, the same silent calculation that said our sisters are idiots.

  Akio broke the silence first. “Here to pick up Yoru?”

  Damien’s tone was flat but civil. “Yeah. I presume you’re here for Aira?”

  “Yeah.”

  For a few seconds, neither of them moved. Normally, this was where one of them would throw the first jab—some smug comment, a quiet insult disguised as charm. But both looked like they’d already lived through three lifetimes since breakfast. There was a time and place for rivalry. This wasn’t it.

  Akio sighed. “Truce?”

  Damien nodded once. “Acceptable.”

  The two of them turned and entered the police station as partners in mutual exhaustion. Inside, the fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, the air carrying that sterile mix of coffee and paperwork. In the corner near the entrance, Aira sat chatting animatedly with Yoru, who looked like she’d spent the entire morning politely trying to stop her from doing something reckless. The moment Aira spotted him, her face lit up like a beacon.

  “Akio!!” she waved, nearly bouncing out of her seat. “You won’t believe this—the Dawn Hound and Echo were actually fighting! I caught everything on camera!”

  He barely got a word in before she shoved her camera into his hands, replaying footage with the excitement of someone who hadn’t almost been vaporized an hour earlier. “Look, look! That’s the Dawn Hound! And that’s Echo! Isn’t it crazy?”

  Akio stared at the tiny screen, watching himself—his other self—dart between explosions and light. It was surreal, seeing it from her perspective. He kept his expression neutral, biting down the sigh threatening to escape.

  “You could’ve gotten hurt,” he said finally.

  “But we didn’t!” Aira replied, grinning like victory incarnate. “I knew the Dawn Hound would protect us.”

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  His expression didn’t change, but he felt a familiar weight settle behind the calm. She wasn’t wrong. Of course he would. That was the problem.

  “Even so,” he said, tone quiet but firm, “the Dawn Hound has his limits too. What if he couldn’t make it?”

  Aira blinked, tilting her head like she was actually thinking about it—then smiled, unconcerned. “Don’t worry, I’ll just be more careful next time.”

  Akio pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the urge to groan. “Right… next time,” he muttered, the words coming out with that familiar blend of resignation and disbelief.

  Across from him, Damien stood with his arms crossed, posture sharp as ever, though the weariness in his expression betrayed him.

  “What were you thinking?” he asked Yoru, tone even but clipped. There was a faint tightness in his jaw, anger laced with worry.

  Yoru looked down, her voice soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry. We just… really wanted to capture the footage. It seemed safe at first.”

  “No amount of footage,” Damien replied coolly, “is worth your life. You could’ve been killed.”

  Yoru’s gaze faltered, guilt flickering across her face before she offered a weak smile. “I know. But the Dawn Hound was there, so…”

  Damien’s brow furrowed. “Which makes it worse. Echo was there too. You were in the middle of both of them.”

  Before the tension could settle, Aira jumped in, tone bright and unapologetic.

  “Which is exactly why we had to be there!” she declared. “Echo never shows up in person! There’s no way we were missing a showdown that legendary.”

  Akio arched an eyebrow, his voice dry. “That doesn’t excuse being reckless.”

  Aira grinned, completely unfazed. “But we’re fine in the end.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, then glanced toward Yoru. Both girls looked perfectly content, unbothered, and very much alive. He could feel Damien’s exasperation radiating beside him, the silent acknowledgment of shared disbelief. For once, they were in complete agreement—a rarity he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry about. He sighed, finally accepting the inevitable. No lecture would change Aira’s mind. All that mattered was that they were safe.

  Damien seemed to come to the same conclusion, his tone losing its edge as he exhaled. “You’re both alive. That’s what matters. I suppose that mutt actually did something useful for once.”

  Akio’s lips curved slightly, amusement flickering behind his eyes. “Not a fan of the Dawn Hound?”

  Damien glanced sideways at him. “He’s a glorified criminal who plays hero.”

  Akio’s expression remained mild, faintly amused. He had no idea what Damien’s actual opinions on vigilantes were—truthfully, it wasn’t a topic they ever discussed. Still, the cynicism fit him.

  “Well,” Akio said, humoring the debate, “a mutt that plays hero is arguably better for society than a soundwave that identifies as an international criminal.”

  Damien’s smirk deepened. “Debatable. Moderate heroes breed complacency. People stop questioning the system when someone else seems to be keeping it in check.”

  Akio tilted his head slightly. “Fair point. But revolutionaries who burn the system down usually forget to ask what they’ll build in its place.”

  Aira groaned loudly, throwing up her hands. “Okay, nerds, can you not start an ethics debate in a police station? We’ve been here forever. Let’s just go.”

  That was enough to end it. The group filtered toward the exit, Aira waving at Yoru as they stepped outside.

  “Come over tomorrow! We’ll go through the footage together!” she called.

  Yoru smiled, nodding before following Damien in the opposite direction. “I will. See you tomorrow.”

  The afternoon light spilled over the street as Akio and Aira made their way home. For a while, they walked in silence, the easy rhythm of siblings who didn’t need to fill every quiet moment. Then Aira spoke, voice teasing.

  “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  Akio blinked. “What wasn’t?”

  “You actually had a normal conversation with Damien. I think that’s the longest you two have ever gotten along without trying to one-up each other.”

  Akio thought about it, then smirked faintly. “That’s because he actually said something smart for once.”

  Aira rolled her eyes. “Uh huh. Coming from you.”

  He chuckled softly, letting her words roll off as she launched into another rant—this time about editing her footage and how many views it would get once she posted it. He only half listened, hands tucked back in his pockets, gaze drifting toward the skyline. Despite everything, he felt a quiet relief settle over him.

  Aira walked ahead, still talking a mile a minute. He followed a step behind, a small, tired smile tugging at his mouth. For all their chaos, both he and Damien shared the same burden and the same unspoken truth. At the end of the day, the two of them were just older brothers—doing their best to keep their little sisters safe, one disaster at a time.

  ─ ? NEXT CHAPTER POV ? ─

  Yoru