𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔⭑.ᐟ 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔 (✔)

chapter 18

Sleep never truly came, not in the way it was supposed to, not in the way people described it as something restful or complete, because every time my eyes closed, my mind refused to follow. 

It lingered somewhere between awareness and exhaustion, replaying fragments of the warehouse over and over again, not as clear sequences but as scattered impressions—the sound of movement, the precision of their formation, the unsettling realisation that none of it had been chaotic or accidental. It wasn't the violence that stayed with me, and it wasn't even the danger. It was the intention behind it, the quiet certainty that we had stepped into something already in motion, something that didn't begin or end with us.

I lay there staring at the ceiling, the faint glow of Tokyo's skyline slipping through the curtains and casting shifting reflections across the walls, soft enough to feel distant yet persistent enough to keep me grounded in the present. The city never truly slept, and tonight, neither did I. There was a strange kind of comfort in that, knowing that somewhere out there, life continued uninterrupted, but it didn't reach me here. Not really. Here, everything felt contained, controlled, like the world outside existed separately from whatever this place had become.

Eventually, the stillness became too heavy to ignore, pressing down in a way that made lying there feel pointless. I sat up slowly, running a hand through my hair as I exhaled, the quiet stretching around me as if waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, I stood, needing movement more than anything else.

The hallway greeted me with the same dim lighting and quiet emptiness as before, but at this hour, it felt different, like it belonged to a version of the world most people never saw. There were no voices, no footsteps, no signs of life beyond the faint hum of electricity running through the building. For a moment, I simply stood there, letting the silence settle, before my body moved on its own, carrying me forward without a destination in mind.

I didn't expect company.

And I was slightly surprised when I heard it.

Footsteps, measured and unhurried, falling into rhythm with mine without trying to overtake it, close enough to be intentional but distant enough to leave space. I didn't turn right away, already aware of who it was, the familiarity settling in before confirmation even became necessary.

"You don't sleep either?"

His voice broke through the quiet, low and steady, fitting into the space like it had always been there, like the silence adjusted around it rather than being interrupted by it. Suddenly, my mind went short-circuit, my tank was crumpled, messy hair, no makeup. 

I took a small breath,  glancing back just slightly, enough to acknowledge him without fully turning, before letting my gaze return forward. "Not really," I replied, my tone calm, unaffected. "You?"

"Sometimes."

There was something almost dry about the way he said it, like the answer didn't matter as much as the fact that he had given one at all, and I didn't question it further. We continued walking without slowing, the silence returning naturally, not heavy or forced, just present in a way that didn't demand to be filled.

Eventually, the hallway opened into a wider space near the lifts, one lined with large windows that overlooked the city, and without thinking too much about it, I moved toward them, leaning lightly against the glass as I let my gaze drift outward. The view stretched endlessly, lights scattered across the skyline like distant constellations, alive yet untouchable, and for a moment, I allowed myself to just look at it without thinking about anything else.

"Next time won't look like that," I murmured. He knew exactly what I meant, the mission today.

"No," he agreed. "It won't."