The dim light in Aira’s home cast long shadows across the walls as Satsujin Sha slipped into the kitchen. The quiet murmur of Aira’s mother cleaning up in the next room was the only sound. He moved silently, his gaze sharp and calcuting, observing each detail with the precision of someone on a mission.

  Aira had gone upstairs to her room for a few minutes, and this small window of time was all he needed. The veil of calm he’d maintained all evening was a mask he wore well, concealing the intensity simmering beneath. His gaze shifted toward the hallway. **It was time to get what he came for.**

  He found Aira’s mother in the dimly lit kitchen, folding a dish towel. She looked up, surprised to see him standing there.

  “Oh, Satsujin. Is everything alright?” she asked, her polite smile masking a hint of wariness.

  Satsujin’s face was unreadable as he took a step closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I need to know where the lemic is.”

  Aira’s mother stiffened, her fingers pausing mid-fold. “I… I don’t know what you mean,” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

  He observed her carefully, every micro-expression, every flicker of fear in her eyes. **She was lying.** He could feel it. But she didn’t realize just how dangerous that could be.

  He leaned in closer, his voice barely a breath, “You know exactly what I mean. The lemic. Where is it?”

  Her gaze shifted, and her hands gripped the towel tightly. “I’m sorry, Satsujin, but… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice shook, betraying her attempts to keep her composure.

  A faint smile crossed his lips—a smile devoid of warmth or kindness. “Lies,” he whispered. “You’re lying.”

  Before she could react, he took a small device from his pocket. It was sleek, metallic, and humming faintly with power. In one swift movement, he activated it and pressed it against her back. The device emitted a low hum, and her eyes widened in shock.

  “What… what are you doing?” she managed to gasp, her voice trembling.

  “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice chillingly calm. “It’ll all be over soon.” He stepped back, watching as a look of terror spread across her face.

  In a fsh, there was a brief, muted explosion—small, controlled, but enough to shatter the silence. Aira’s mother crumpled to the floor, her eyes wide with the st traces of fear, her life snuffed out in an instant.

  Satsujin stood over her body, his expression unreadable. “You shouldn’t have lied to me,” he whispered, almost to himself.

  Moments ter, Aira’s voice drifted down from the stairs. “Mom? Is everything alright?”

  Satsujin quickly composed himself, slipping the device back into his pocket and schooling his expression into one of calm. He turned to face the kitchen doorway just as Aira came down, her footsteps light but filled with a sense of curiosity.

  As she stepped into the kitchen, her gaze fell upon the lifeless body of her mother sprawled on the floor. For a moment, she stood frozen, her face an unreadable mask.

  Satsujin met her gaze, his voice calm, almost soothing. “I’m sorry, Aira. Your mother… she took her own life.”

  There was a moment of silence as Aira processed his words. Then, to his surprise, a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Her eyes gleamed with something dark, something almost… relieved.

  “Thank God,” she whispered, her voice soft but filled with a strange sense of release. “Finally, she’s gone.”

  Satsujin raised an eyebrow, watching her carefully. He hadn’t anticipated this reaction, but he wasn’t surprised either. He knew the tension that had simmered between Aira and her mother, the resentment she had harbored for years. **Maybe this was exactly what she had been waiting for.**

  He stepped forward, pcing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I did this for you,” he murmured, his voice gentle yet firm. “Everything I do is for you.”

  Aira turned to him, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of gratitude and something else—something far more dangerous. In that moment, it was as if the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them, bound together by a darkness neither of them could escape.

  Without a word, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, her kiss fierce and filled with a twisted kind of gratitude. He returned the kiss, his hand slipping around her waist, pulling her close. For that brief moment, they were connected, bound by a shared understanding that no one else could comprehend.

  When they finally broke apart, Aira rested her head against his chest, her arms wrapped around him. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Thank you for freeing me.”

  Satsujin held her close, his gaze distant as he stared at the lifeless body on the floor. The weight of what he had done was heavy, but he didn’t regret it. For Aira, he would do anything. Even if it meant destroying the world around her.

  In his mind, he knew this was only the beginning. Aira had a darkness within her—a darkness he could nurture, mold, and use. She was like a weapon he had forged, sharp and dangerous, but also fragile in ways she didn’t fully understand.

  As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction. This was what he had been working toward, what he had been pnning for so long. Aira was his, and together, they could become something unstoppable.

  After a few moments, Aira pulled back, looking up at him with a soft smile. There was a glint of something almost childlike in her eyes, a trust so complete it bordered on blind faith.

  “What do we do now?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  Satsujin considered her question carefully, his mind already working through the possibilities. “Now,” he said slowly, “we make sure no one finds out. We clean up. We move forward.”

  Aira nodded, her expression calm and composed. She was stronger than he had anticipated, more resilient in the face of darkness. It was a quality he admired, and one that he knew he could use to his advantage.

  Together, they began the grim task of cleaning up, working in silence as they erased any trace of what had happened. The hours slipped by, the darkness outside deepening as they worked. By the time they were finished, the house was as quiet and untouched as it had been before, the only evidence of the crime hidden in shadows.

  As they stood in the now-pristine kitchen, Satsujin took Aira’s hand, leading her toward the door. “Come on,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm. “Let’s go somewhere safe.”

  Aira nodded, her gaze unwavering. She was ready to follow him, to leave behind the life she had known and embrace whatever future he had in store for them.

  Together, they stepped out into the night, disappearing into the darkness like shadows slipping through the cracks. They were bound together now, two souls intertwined by fate and forged in secrecy. And in that moment, Satsujin knew that nothing—not love, not loyalty, not even death—could break the bond they had created.