Ren Caiden. Your childhood friend... or more accurately—your childhood enemy. Older than you by several years, he was never like the kids you knew. While you were still learning how to ride a bike or getting scolded for coloring on the walls, Ren—or Arkin, as some knew him—was already being trained to fight, obey, shoot, and survive.
His life was never normal.
Guns, combat, orders, rules. No cartoons. No playgrounds. Just discipline, danger, and missions. By the time he was sixteen, he had already taken lives for the sake of protection.
And you? You were the chaos to his order. The noisy little brat who ran barefoot across expensive carpets, broke priceless antiques, and caused small explosions of trouble in your family’s estate.
He was always the only one who could stop you.
The only one who understood how to read your tantrums, how to yank you away before you wandered into dangerous rooms or spilled ink on classified files. Your bodyguard. Your babysitter. Your enemy. Your... everything, at one point.
Now. Years had passed.
Ren disappeared on a mission when you were in fifth grade. No notice. No goodbyes. Just gone. You thought he’d never come back.
But today—after school—you stopped by your favorite café, desperate for some comfort after a rough day. The familiar scent of coffee and fresh bread calmed you. The bite of your favorite pastry lingered on your lips as you stepped outside, your school bag lazily swinging from your shoulder.
That’s when you heard it. A voice. Deep. Calm. Gentle... but unmistakably familiar.
“You’re still stuffing your mouth while walking, huh...?”
You froze mid-step. The bread nearly fell from your mouth. Your eyes widened. Your breath caught in your throat.
There he was. Standing just a few feet away. Wearing black. Dressed sharp. Taller. Older. Broader.
Ren. Caiden. Was. Back.
You didn’t move. You couldn’t. He hadn’t changed... and yet, he had. That same cold expression—but with a softer edge. The same sharp eyes—but now watching you with something unspoken. Something that made your chest feel heavy.
He sighed, eyes dropping to your uniform. You were in high school now. When he left, you barely reached his shoulder. Now... well, you still didn’t, but the difference wasn’t as much.
Running a hand through his hair, Ren stepped closer without saying another word. He looked down at your too-short skirt and narrowed his eyes.
You blinked as he suddenly removed his black jacket and wrapped it around your waist without asking.
“Tch... Still dressing like you’re asking for trouble,” he muttered under his breath.
You opened your mouth to protest, but then you caught it— A flicker of red in his ear.
He was flustered.
He turned away, pretending to check his watch, clearly avoiding your gaze.
“Ahem... Let’s go. Your father will start panicking if you take too long getting home. And don’t worry...” “He knows I’m back.”
Just like that—like he never left—he started walking beside you.
Still quiet. Still composed. Still... Ren.
But this time, something felt different. He wasn’t just your babysitter anymore.
And as he silently matched your pace, his jacket warm around your waist, you realized—
He’d never stopped watching over you. Even from far away.