𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑪𝒓𝒖𝒆𝒍 |니키˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

3.0🦢

Three months later...

The steady rhythm of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room, a constant reminder that life was still there, faint but present. Riki sat in the chair next to Jiyoung's hospital bed, his eyes trained on her peaceful face. He hadn't left her side for more than a few hours at a time, constantly keeping vigil. His mind, however, never rested. The war he'd waged on the Asakura clan had consumed him, but here, with Jiyoung, he found a moment of stillness.

Ruthless in the streets, feared by those who whispered his name in fear, Riki had become a ghost to those around him—a relentless force that wiped out anything standing in his way. His vengeance had consumed him, but when he was here, sitting beside her, everything else fell away. She was the tether that kept him from being lost entirely to the darkness.

He glanced at her again, his fingers absentmindedly brushing a strand of hair away from her face. She was still unconscious, her body healing slowly from the bullets she had taken. The doctors said she would wake up soon—maybe in a few days, maybe a few weeks—but it had been three long months. Every day, Riki waited, hoping today would be the day.

He leaned back in his chair, exhaustion tugging at him, but he wouldn't sleep. Not yet.

Then, something shifted.

A soft sound—a groan—barely audible, broke through the quiet. Riki shot up from his seat, his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes darted to Jiyoung's face, and to his astonishment, her eyelids fluttered. Her fingers twitched, her body slowly responding as she fought her way out of the deep slumber.

"Jiyoung..." His voice cracked, the shock too raw for him to hide.

Her eyes slowly opened, blinking against the bright light of the room. She looked confused, disoriented, her gaze wandering before finally landing on Riki. He was leaning over her, his expression a mix of relief and vulnerability, something she had never seen from him before.

"Riki...?" Her voice was hoarse, weak from months of disuse. She tried to sit up, but her body refused to cooperate, her side throbbing in protest.

"Hey... hey, don't move." He was at her side in an instant, gently pressing her back into the bed. "You're okay. You're safe."

She stared at him, trying to process everything. The last thing she remembered was the gunshots, the searing pain in her side, and then—nothing. The pieces slowly fell into place, but there were so many gaps, so many unanswered questions.

"How long...?" she rasped, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Three months." Riki's tone was soft, but there was an undercurrent of tension there, like he had been waiting for this moment with unbearable anticipation.

"Three months?" Her mind reeled at the thought. She had been out for that long? "What happened?"

Riki's expression darkened slightly, his eyes flickering with something dangerous. "Jo figured it out. He had one of his men shoot you. You were close... too close to not making it." His voice dropped lower, as if the memory of nearly losing her was too much to bear.

"And Jo?" she asked, her voice stronger now, though still raspy.

Riki hesitated for a moment, his jaw tightening. "He's still out there." His eyes met hers, a cold fire burning within them. "But his entire world is burning. I've made sure of that. He has nothing left but his own skin, and I'll make sure that's gone too."

Jiyoung's heart raced at his words. She knew Riki had changed—he had always been intense, but now there was a darkness in him that she hadn't seen before. The man in front of her was colder, sharper, ruthless in a way that only someone who had lost everything could be. But when he looked at her, that hardness softened, if only slightly.