𝑅𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑀𝑒 [ ObaMitsu fanfic/ R-(MA)] Kimetsu No Yaiba

Chapter 98 - Taking Back What's Mine

Chapter Song: Stray Kids, Young Miko, Tom Morella - "Come Play" (From the series Arcane League of Legends)
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Obanai's apartment was a reflection of him: cold, and suffocating in its silence. The dim light from the single lamp by the window barely lighting the room, casting shadows on the walls as Obanai stood before the full-length mirror. His fingers hovered over the edge of his thick black sweater, sliding beneath it to touch the cold metal beneath. He adjusted his concealed weapons—a  handgun, and a pocket knife, and extra magazines, all tucked securely in his pockets. The weight of it settled over him, a grim reminder of what he was about to face.

His eyes narrowed as he gazed at the photo in his phone, a shot of Mitsuri from his old bedroom. The distorted image flickered with every heartbeat, but it was the last thing on his mind. The only thing that mattered was the mission, the goal. But as he stared at the photo, his mind flashed to the past.

His childhood room. The bed sheets. The indent on the wall next to the window. His old room—the one he hadn't thought of in years, the one he never wanted to remember. Misaki's twisted hand in this was a deliberate jab at him, a way to mock him, to twist his memories and use them against him. The fact that she chose it was enraging, but not unexpected. Misaki always knew how to pull at the rawest edges of his mind.

Obanai's jaw tightened under the black facemask he pulled over his face. His hair, usually kept loose, was tightly bound in a ponytail, and the familiar silence of his apartment was suffocating. His breath, shallow but controlled, was the only sound as he slid his feet into his boots. The final piece of the puzzle. The thick soles made no sound as they met the floor. His movements were sharp, calculated, as though the air itself was aware of the danger he was preparing to unleash.

His mind swam with rage, but it remained contained, focused. Obanai wasn't the kind of man to let his emotions control him, not now, not when Mitsuri was in danger. Every part of him screamed to break out, to tear through anything in his path, but he was quiet, controlled. It was the calm before the storm.

As he walked out of his apartment, the heavy door closing silently behind him, the streets of the city greeted him with their usual disarray. The hum of neon lights and the distant sounds of night life were a stark contrast to the tension in his body. The dark alleys and quiet streets held nothing of interest to him now, not when his target was so close. His heart beat like a drum in his chest, each thud pushing him forward. But Obanai didn't run. He didn't need to. His pace was steady, purposeful. There was no rush. He knew the estate would be waiting.

The streets felt empty, the noise of the city fading as his focus tightened. Each footstep was deliberate, each movement calculated. He kept his head down, the mask covering his face, blending into the shadows. His mind replayed the photo, the knowledge of where Mitsuri was, the horror that she was in his childhood room. The room he had escaped from—only for her to be trapped there, waiting for him. The thought of her in that space twisted a deep anger within him, but he remained quiet. Silent. The kind of silence that spoke volumes, that held a storm beneath it.

Obanai passed the familiar streets with nothing but his thoughts, each one like a knife in his gut. Misaki was playing a dangerous game, and he was ready to end it. Every step brought him closer to the Iguro estate.

As he neared the estate, the silence became oppressive. His senses sharpened, his body coiled like a spring, ready to snap. The shadows seemed to stretch longer, as though the night itself was holding its breath, waiting for what was to come. The familiar gates of the Iguro estate loomed ahead of him, dark and imposing against the night sky.

Obanai paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the perimeter. Nothing seemed out of place, but he knew better than to trust appearances. Misaki wouldn't make it this easy. She would be watching, waiting. But Obanai was ready. He was always ready.