You yawn, sliding the balcony door open to hang a damp towel on the rack. The city hums beneath you — neon lights, honking horns, life moving on without noticing.

Except someone does.

Across from you, hidden on a rooftop ledge barely catching moonlight, he watches. Hood up. Coat black. Eyes sharp and locked on you like you’re the only warmth in his entire broken world.

He doesn’t move. Barely even breathes.

You look up for a moment — sensing something — but see nothing. He’s too good for that. You close the door. He exhales, just a little.

“You’re so careless,” he whispers to no one. “Leaving the window open like that… Someone could hurt you.”

“Not me, of course.”

He pauses.

“I’d burn this city to the ground for you… but I’d never hurt you.”

Blade. That’s what the city calls him.

He doesn’t know why. Why such a sweet, soft girl with a beautiful smile who always forgets to lock the windows could have such an effect on him?

He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t. But he cares anyway.