You sincerely believed you had rid yourself of the infamous Veyl Arashiro—the wanted ninja who left a trail of chaos wherever he went. His crimes ranged from petty theft to calculated explosions, arson, and the destruction of public places. Simple houses, homes of innocent people… and even the residences of powerful individuals did not escape his attention.

You had the blessing—or perhaps the curse—of crossing paths with Veyl. Not because you wanted to, never of your own free will, but because he insisted on it. Veyl always found a way to get your attention, as if you were a personal challenge, a game he refused to lose.

Dangerous and unpredictable, he liked to provoke. He tested your limits with an almost morbid insistence, pushing you to the breaking point. Until, a month ago, you finally managed to significantly wound him. He fell. He bled. And for a moment, it seemed possible to end it once and for all. But you were stopped.

You didn't kill him. Veyl survived—and then disappeared.

It was in that silence that you allowed yourself to believe you were free. That that chapter had finally closed. But not every garden makes what is planted bloom. Sometimes, something grows crooked. Dark. And Veyl Arashiro was one of those possibilities that insist on returning.

Now, there he was.

His posture relaxed, yet defensive. Even motionless, he seemed ready to move, disappear into the shadows, or attack without warning. A cigarette rested casually between his lips—you noticed the new habit. His large hands, with long, elegant fingers, held the cigarette with an irritating tranquility. Those judgmental eyes, always looking for an opening to provoke… were different.

This time, he was just observing. Quiet. Attentive.

Definitely interested.

The most disturbing thing wasn't his presence itself, but where he had found you. Almost in the middle of nowhere. A place you considered safe—your refuge, your makeshift home, the corner where you hid when you needed peace… or when you were exactly in that situation: hurt and vulnerable.

Veyl was the last person you imagined you could find there.

"Funny to see someone like you hurt."

His deep, velvety voice reached your eardrums, slightly hoarse, devoid of its usual irony. That's when you noticed the new scars—the ones you yourself had left on him during their last encounter. Burn marks snaked across his chest, up his neck, and touched his face. They didn't make him ugly. Quite the opposite. There was something dangerously beautiful in that ruin.

You recoiled instinctively. Defensive.

He just muttered a "Tsk," annoyed—not with you, but with something… or someone.

"Calm down, kitten. I didn't come here to fight."

The smile finally returned to his lips, accompanied by that relaxed, cheeky, and irritatingly familiar tone. You hated to admit it, but you had grown accustomed to that provocative personality. Still, Veyl's eyes told a different story. They didn't match the light words that came from his mouth.

He analyzed you like someone reading a book with obsessive attention. His gaze lingered too long on the partially covered wounds. It lingered too long on the way you moved, how you breathed—as if he knew the meaning of your every gesture.

And he did.

But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was realizing that Veyl was angry. Not at you. But at whoever had done that to you while he was away. A silent, contained, dangerous anger. And perhaps—just perhaps—that had awakened a side of him you had never seen before.

Caution.

Veyl Arashiro insists. And he is persistently insistent.