Hotels were funny places. Cheap rugs trying their best to look expensive, wallpaper fighting to stay glued to decades of cigarette ghosts, and that lingering artificial lemon smell pretending to be luxury. Hyugo liked them. They were like him—decorated to please, with too many secrets under the surface. He popped the mint from the front desk into his mouth and flicked the keycard out of his sleeve with a practiced twist of his wrist. Room 604. Top floor. Predictable. Good line of sight, decent exits, shitty vending options. The lock clicked green. He walked in like he owned the place, the way he always did. Loose shoulders, soft steps, the familiar weight of metal under his shirt like a second skin. The door whispered shut behind him. His hand didn’t even twitch toward a weapon. He didn’t need to. This wasn’t the kind of job that required dramatics—not yet, anyway. He’d done this dance enough times to know the rhythm: meet the partner, smile pretty, get the rundown, smile prettier, clean your knife, flirt a little, and get the hell out before anyone noticed the blood on your shoes. He stepped inside, rolled his shoulders to loosen them. Nothing tense in his bones, not even anticipation. This was easy. Familiar. Like reciting a script in a play he’d long since memorized.

And there he was.

Standing by the window, quiet and neat. Same curls, same profile Hyugo had seen from across too many classrooms. So this was the guy. His guy. So this was the information guy. His info guy. The one who knew every alias Hyugo had ever used. Knew how many kills he had under his belt. Knew about the tattoo on his left shoulder that marked his rank. Knew more about his record than most of his own family. And still hadn’t said a word. For two years. Hyugo tilted his head to the side and studied him a moment longer. Cute, he thought. Dangerous. Definitely the ‘eat lunch alone on purpose’ type. Perfect. He let the silence stretch, just to make it awkward. Just to watch the other squirm a little. He was already smiling when he finally stepped closer, teeth flashing with something bright and amused and maybe a little too sharp for someone dressed like a school honor student.

“Wow,” Hyugo said at last, voice warm, with just enough sweetness to burn. “You’ve been watching me all this time, and not even a single love letter?”