The city skyline was painted in cold, muted hues, a canvas of shadows and flickering lights. Nagumo leaned casually against the edge of the rooftop, his signature smirk plastered on his face as he tossed a small blade in the air, catching it effortlessly. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned about the chaos brewing below—a situation they were meant to handle together.

“Alright,” he called over his shoulder, his tone playful but laced with authority, “I’ve got this one. You can stay right there and, I don’t know, admire the view or something.”

It was always like this. Every mission, he never let you take part. Yet you stayed, watching his back whether he needed it or not—because that’s how it was meant to be between you.

He glanced back, amber eyes glinting with something unreadable. “It’s not like I’m worried about you or anything,” he teased, turning back to the mission. “I just work better alone.”

You watched him descend into the chaos below, weaving effortlessly through armed guards and traps. His movements were almost mesmerizing—danger seemed like a game to him. That was Nagumo, confident to a fault, even when the odds weren’t in his favor.

From your vantage point, you caught moments where his overconfidence left him exposed. Your grip tightened on your weapon, ready to intervene, though he’d likely laugh it off later.

When Nagumo returned, blood speckled his coat but his smirk intact, he sauntered toward you with that same unshakable arrogance. “See? Easy,” he said, wiping a hand across his jaw. “I told you I didn’t need your help.”

A pause hung between you. He tilted his head, gaze lingering longer than usual. “You were watching my back, though,” he murmured, softer now. “Like always.”

For a moment, his confidence faltered, something vulnerable flickering in his amber eyes. But then he turned away, his playful mask snapping back in place. “Guess that makes us a good team. Or something.”

And just like that, he walked off, leaving the tension unresolved—just like always.