The Hunt - Choso Kamo

6. Number

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Y/n sat in her small, cluttered workshop, a paintbrush in her hand, the smell of oil paint thick in the air. The canvas in front of her was half finished, but she was getting close to capturing what she wanted, the essence of a face that had been etched in her mind for days now. Choso. His shape features, the intensity in his eyes, the quiet darkness that seemed to follow him wherever he went, it was all there on the canvas.

She had never painted anyone like this before. Usually, her portraits were lighter, more carefree, like her mood. But Choso.. he was different. There was something about him that fascinated her, something mysterious that she couldn't quite figure out, and it had found its way into her work.

Her hand moved steadily as she worked on his eyes, trying to capture the way they seemed to pierce through everything and everyone. Her mind wandered to their last meeting at the bar. He had been quiet, almost distant. Something had been bothering him, she could feel it, but he hadn't said a word about it.

With a soft sigh, y/n set her brush down and stood back to study the painting. She still wasn't satisfied, but maybe it was because she couldn't fully understand choso yet. How could she paint someone so elusive, so guarded, when she barely knew him?

Feeling restless, she wandered over to the window, wiping her hands on a cloth. The sun was beginning to set, casting an orange glow over the streets below. She leaned against the window frame, gazing out at the quiet street.

Then her heart nearly skipped a beat. There, just across the street, standing in the shadow, was Choso.

He didn't seem to notice her at first, his gaze fixed on something in the distance, but as if sensing her eyes on him, he slowly turned his head. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

Y/n felt her breath catch in her throat. What was he doing here? He hadn't mentioned anything about visiting her, and yet there he was, standing there like a figure from a dream, or a nightmare.

She lifted her hand and waved, a small, tentative gesture. Choso's expression didn't change at first, but after a few seconds, he nodded, acknowledging her. He looked conflicted, as if he wasn't sure whether to stay or to leave.

She frowned slightly, concerned. Something was definitely bothering him. Without thinking, she grabbed her coat and headed downstairs. By the time she reached the door and stepped out onto the street, Choso had crossed over, standing just a few feet away.

"Aku" she said softly, still catching her breath. "What are you doing here? Are you okay?"

For a moment he didn't answer. His gaze drifted to the ground, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "I was just passing by" he said finally, his voice low and guarded.

Y/n titled her head, unconvinced. "Really? You look like something's on your mind."

Choso's eyes flicked back to hers, the intensity in them making her shiver. "It's nothing" he said a little too quickly. "Just.. a lot going on."

She stepped closer, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Do you want to come inside? I've been working on something, and I'd love to show you."

Choso hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he was weighing the consequences of accepting her offer. He knew he shouldn't.  He knew he had to stay away from her, from his distraction, if he wanted to keep his focus on his missions. But standing there, looking at her, the resolve he had been clinging to started to slip.

She watched him, noticing the struggle in his expression. She smiled softly, trying to ease whatever burden was on his mind. "It's just a painting" she said with a small shrug. "Nothing too intense."