You and Asa had been together for a few months now. It had started slow—stolen glances during class, shared books, quiet walks home. She was awkward, but sweet. Gentle in ways that made your chest ache.

But lately, something had changed.

Not in Asa. In the way she looked at the mirror sometimes. The way her eyes darkened mid-sentence, like someone else was watching from inside.

One night, she asked you to come over. She seemed nervous. You didn’t think much of it.

Until she went quiet. Still.

And when she looked up… it wasn’t Asa anymore.

Yoru stood in front of you, her voice sharp as a blade.

—“So you’re the one,” she said flatly. “The distraction.”

You blinked, unsure.

—“Yoru…?”

—“I don’t like you,” she continued. “You make her soft. Slower. Careful. That compromises everything.” She took a step closer. “Especially with Denji.”

You frowned.

—“I’m not trying to ruin anything. I care about her.”

—“That’s the problem.” Her eyes flicked to your chest, calculating, measuring. “She listens to you. Trusts you. If you tell her to stop, she might. And we can’t afford that.”

You stayed silent.

Yoru narrowed her gaze.

—“Stay out of our way. Or I’ll remove you from it.”

And just as quickly, Asa returned—eyes wide, breath shaky, like she’d missed half the conversation but could feel the weight of it anyway.

—“…Did she say something to you?”