The Secrets We Hide (VERY OLD)

Chapter 3

Hikari's POV December 5th 2026

Those Entries...

"Where are we going?" I asked in confusion.

"Getting you a new place to stay. Plus it has all my old equipment. Quickly get your stuff, we're leaving soon."

"Why do I need a new place to stay? What's wrong with this place?"

"You have no food, one room, everywhere is small, and it's not in a very good place."

"Quit complaining, this is the only place I can afford, wherever you're taking me is probably way too expensive for my budget."

He laughed.

"You're not paying for anything, You stay for free. Go get your stuff kid."

"Why are you pitying me?" I asked.

"I can't actually just leave, because if I did I would have to kill you, which I don't want to do. Plus it's boring having everything without anyone to share it with." A ding sounded at the door. He quickly went to get it revealing a decently tall female with short pointed ears and a long fluffy tail. She wore a sour expression.

"Did you kill any other fucking family Keo?"

"No! I found a poor kid who I want to help, thank you very much." He growled back, flaring his wings.

"Uh-huh, and who do you want to 'help.'" The female said sarcastically with an even more annoyed expression.

"The kid's behind me." He stepped, back letting Echo see into my home.

"Uh, hello?" I said to the stranger.

"Kid, go get your stuff. We need to go, cops are a block away." The stranger said, tapping their wrist.

"Well Ketsueki, help me because there's no way I can do it all in a few short minutes."

He nodded, moving swiftly. "Tell me what to grab."

_______<*>________

We were now in this fancy limousine. I have no idea where they put all my stuff, but as long as it's in here I'm fine.

"Why did you want to share everything you have with me?" I asked Ketsueki, trying to start a conversation.

"You're the only person who didn't freak out, shortie. Plus, I don't need another kill to add to my 179 right now." His tone made him sound like he was lying. He leaned back, crossing his legs over each other. He was holding a clear bottle full of alcohol, I couldn't tell what kind.

"Why do you keep calling me 'shortie'? Is that your way of flirting?"

"You're 5'9, I'm 9,11. I'm 4 feet and 2 inches taller." He replied, ignoring the other question with another hit of the alcohol.

"Still, there's no need to call me 'shortie'. Just call me by my actual name."

He frowned.

"I hate real names." He grumbled, setting down the bottle and crossing his arms.

"Oh, so am I supposed to have a nickname for you?" I said in a sarcastic tone.

"Sure, no one actually calls me by my real name."

"I was being sarcastic, I don't see a reason for nicknames, I like real names more."

He frowned again, leaning his head to the left.

"So you have school?" He asked.

"Yes, I actually care about my education."

"I passed high school and did half of my college." He defended.