SUB ROSA | Wind Breaker

Arc 3 || 13. Wicked Game

The days since the rooftop confrontation had blurred together, each one weighed down with a thick, uncomfortable tension. Akame moved through her routines like a shadow, a part of her not fully there. She avoided Yuta and the boys, evading Furin altogether, and heading straight home after school, her path a quiet rebellion against the suffocating circle of protection they'd tried to wrap her in.

But inside, her thoughts were anything but quiet. Her mind was a jumble, tangled in a web of conflicting emotions that left her feeling worn thin, raw. She couldn't shake the lingering nightmares, each one laced with shadows of that day, replaying in her mind like a scar that refused to fade. And layered on top of that, the memory of Endo's smirk, the way he'd looked at her with that familiar intensity that made her feel exposed, vulnerable... intrigued. She hated herself for feeling that way, for the strange pull she couldn't explain.

It wasn't just Endo, though. It was everything, all at once. Togame, and the kiss that never happened, the moment of almost that left her questioning every lingering glance he'd sent her way. Umemiya's look of disappointment on the rooftop, as if he'd expected something different from her, something she couldn't give. Suo's judgmental gaze that night in the Red-Light District, the way he'd looked at her like she was slipping, like she was somehow wrong for even being near Endo.

The pressure of it all was building, smothering her, filling her with a frustration that had no outlet. She was exhausted, but even more than that, she was furious. Furious at the lack of privacy, at the way they all hovered around her, acting like they knew what was best. She felt trapped, penned in by their expectations and assumptions, as if her own life was something she had no control over.

She wanted to scream, to tear down the walls they'd built around her, to burn through the suffocating weight of it all.

~ At The Warehouse ~

Akame felt her heart pound as she climbed the creaky metallic stairs of the warehouse, each step deliberate, unyielding. Her heart was a steady drum in her chest, each beat a warning, each beat louder than the last. And there he was—sitting on a worn-down couch, waiting for her with that infuriating smirk, his eyes alight with a dark amusement that mirrored her own.

"Welcome to the lion's den," he murmured, voice low, that familiar arrogance lacing every word.

But she didn't respond, didn't acknowledge his taunt. Her gaze stayed steady, locking onto his with a defiance that was anything but playful. She closed the distance, her anger simmering just beneath the surface, radiating off her like heat. And for the first time, Endo's smirk faded, replaced with something that almost resembled curiosity.

When she stood before him, her head barely reaching his chest, her smallness in comparison only made her more determined. She held her ground, defying the way his height towered over her, refusing to look away.

"Kiss me."

The words hung in the air, heavy and electric. She saw the surprise flicker across his face, his smirk fading, replaced with something she couldn't quite read. For the first time, she'd caught him off guard, and it only fueled the reckless thrill thrumming through her.

Endo's eyes narrowed, the shock melting into intrigue, but there was a hesitation, as if he were searching her gaze, trying to understand the demand, the unspoken desperation beneath it. His hand reached out, hovering near her cheek, but he didn't touch her yet.

"Are you sure?" he murmured, his voice low, taunting, but his eyes were darker, more intense, sensing the weight of her words.

She didn't answer, didn't give him any more of her thoughts or fears. Instead, she tilted her chin up, meeting his gaze with a determination that left no room for doubt. Her silence was her answer.