SUB ROSA | Wind Breaker

Arc 2 || 7. Meow

Akame sat quietly on the park bench, her hand gliding gently over the soft fur of the white cat that had jumped onto her lap. She hadn't expected company, especially not from a stray, but she welcomed the distraction. Her fingers traced calming circles in its fur as she took a steadying breath, repeating a quiet mantra in her mind, trying to push away the remnants of the nightmare that had shaken her awake that morning.

Breathe. You're safe. It's over.

The cat nudged her hand, and she found herself smiling softly. The small creature had an ease about it, a calm Akame wished she could absorb. The weight of the nightmare still lingered, a shadow she couldn't quite shake. But here, with this tiny companion nestled into her lap, she found a moment of quiet.

Just as she began to lose herself in the rhythmic motion of petting the cat, the crunch of footsteps on gravel pulled her from her thoughts. Looking up, she was surprised to see Kaji standing a few feet away, his usual distant expression fixed on her, his posture relaxed but unreadable.

His gaze was steady, almost unnervingly so. He looked at her as if he were reading her every thought. For a second, she felt exposed, her carefully maintained composure slipping just slightly under his stare. Does he know what I was thinking about? She pushed the thought away, holding onto the mask she'd so carefully built.

"That cat runs off a lot," he said, his voice flat and emotionless. There was no warmth, just a simple statement of fact. "Some old lady nearby has been looking for her."

Akame blinked, caught off guard by his unexpected knowledge of the cat. Her lips parted to respond, but she hesitated, unsure of what to say. Kaji's presence always threw her off-balance, not because he was unkind, but because he was so... unreachable. His expression was so distant, as if he were watching from a place she couldn't follow.

"Oh... I didn't know," she murmured, glancing down at the cat nestled in her lap. "She just came up to me."

Kaji's eyes shifted to the cat, then back to her. "Seems comfortable with you." His voice held no warmth, no kindness—just a detached observation, like he was reading the situation without truly engaging in it.

Akame felt a small pang of discomfort under his gaze. She wasn't sure why he made her so uneasy. He was quiet, just like her, yet he always seemed to see more than she wanted him to.

"Her house isn't far," he added, his tone clipped, as if this conversation were an obligation rather than a choice. "You should come with me."

Akame nodded slowly, unsure if this was an invitation or simply a practical suggestion. The way he turned without waiting for her answer made her think it was the latter. Still, she adjusted her hold on the cat and rose from the bench, falling into step behind him.

As they walked, the silence between them felt thick, heavier than usual. Akame's eyes flitted to Kaji, studying his face, his impassive gaze fixed ahead. He moved with a relaxed confidence, his hands shoved in his pockets, his expression unreadable. She wanted to ask him something, anything, to ease the tension, but each time she opened her mouth, the words died before they reached her lips.

Kaji, too, felt the weight of the silence, though he'd never admit it. He'd been watching her in the park before he approached—observing the way she seemed lost in thought, her fingers tapping rhythmically against her knee, her face set with a strain he recognized. She'd been trying to hold it together, her fingers moving with a quiet urgency, repeating some internal mantra. For a brief moment, her mask had slipped, and he'd seen a glimpse of something raw beneath the surface.

But now, as he walked beside her, her mask was back in place. And despite his curiosity, he kept his expression neutral. He didn't want to pry, didn't want her to retreat any further. But a part of him wished he could understand what she was hiding.