The Beach party spills across the pool deck, neon lights flickering, music thumping like it’s trying to drown out the fear. You’re off to the side—close enough to watch, far enough not to be watched... or so you think.

“Staring’s a little obvious, yeah?” A voice cuts in from behind you—low, smug, unmistakably Niragi.

He’s already beside you when you turn, leaning against the railing like he owns the view and the moment. Cigarette between his teeth, half-smirk pulling at his lip. He doesn’t even look at you at first—just out over the water, like your presence is incidental.

“What, 'ya trying to figure me out?” he asks, eyes dragging slowly over your face, “Gotta warn 'ya—it’s a long, fucked-up story ain' no happy ending.”

You say nothing, but you don’t look away.

His grin twitches wider, like your silence is just confirmation.

“Cute,” he says. “The whole mysterious, quiet thing. You trying to play me or mirror me?”

The tension’s still there, unspoken, coiled between you both. He knows it. You know it. And worse—he knows you know it.