That day.
In the city—not too loud. Not too quiet.
The kind of evening that hums in the background.
People passed.
Lights flickered on glass.
A street musician played something soft.
It was just another moment, like all the others.
Teji stood near a lamppost, shoulders relaxed but eyes sharp.
A small black comms bud nestled in his right ear—standard issue. Boizano liked its agents connected. Always. No excuses.
He pulled out his phone.
Teji:
"Where are you?"
Buzz.
One reply.
Tamiki:
"I'm here. In front of you."
He looked up.
And for a second—just one—everything slowed.
There she was.
Tamiki stepped from the crowd like the city made space for her.
She wore a soft beige cardigan over a clean white blouse, tucked neatly into a black midi skirt that moved gently with the breeze. Her silver necklace caught a flash of light—just enough to be noticed, not enough to ask for it.
Hair tied back, loosely. A few strands falling free, like they had a mind of their own.
In her hand—a tote bag, casual and probably filled with things she didn't need but brought anyway.
She smiled, like the city hadn't just paused for her.
"You're so early."
Teji shrugged. "I'm used to arriving early."
He was. Habit. Pattern. Protocol.
Too many missions. Too many ambushes.
His eyes flicked past her. Scanned the windows. Corners. Rooftops.
Then back to her.
"So," he said, "where are we going?"
Tamiki pointed casually down the street. "I heard there's a new café around the corner. We could try it! My treat."
Teji didn't move.
Something buzzed behind his thoughts. Not in the comms. In him.
A static under the skin.
He should've been able to read it.
Sense it.
Like with Agent 7.
But now?
Nothing.
Just noise.
Just Tamiki.
Just this city.
And that—
That's what bothered him the most.
Maybe he should just ignore it this time.
That feeling.
That off instinct buzzing somewhere behind his thoughts.
Because this time, there was nothing.
No signs.
No sudden shift in air pressure.
No cold glint off a rooftop scope.
Just people walking past the café windows.
Just the soft sound of cups clinking.
Just Tamiki.
They were already seated. A quiet little corner in the café, tucked into the back, far from the windows and the front door.
The place itself was small—narrow space, old wooden tables, warm yellow lights strung across the ceiling. Jazz played low, barely above a whisper. Enough to fill the silence, not break it.
It felt safe. Or at least, it looked like it.
Teji held the menu but wasn't reading it.
He flipped it open, flipped it closed. His mind somewhere else.
Then, without looking up, he asked,
"Why did you ask me to go out? Is it something in particular that you want to ask me?"
Tamiki hesitated.
Her fingers played with the pen beside the order slip. Light taps. Small circles.
Then she glanced down.
"No… err… I just wanted to know about your condition. After your accident," she said, voice soft. "I didn't get to contact you at all. So yeah… I was a bit worried when I found out about your mom."
That made Teji look at her.
Not sharply—just enough.
"I'm good. Fully healed," he said flatly.
Then paused.
"…How did you know about my mom?"
Tamiki didn't answer right away.
She started writing on the slip. Her handwriting neat, careful. She passed it to the waiter with a small nod, then folded her hands in her lap.
"Actually… I knew your mom," she said, still not meeting his eyes. "Not too much, but… I spoke to her when you were in the hospital."
Teji blinked.
Didn't expect that.
"I visited her. Talked to her a few times. She told me you didn't want visitors… so I didn't try to push it."
A small smile tugged at her lips. Not happy. Not sad. Just something in between.
"But she did talk about you a lot. She was so proud. And so scared too. That's why I remembered you."
Teji nodded slowly.
"Oh… thank you for your concern."
They didn't say much after that.
Just sat there.
Quiet.
Not awkward.
Just… there.
Like the space between two notes in a song.
After a while, their orders arrived.
A soft clink of plates and glasses.
Tamiki stirred her drink gently, watching the way the foam circled.
Then she looked up.
"Erm… Teji, can I know more about that red dog tag of yours? Like… who actually is the Boizano?"
Teji's fingers paused around his fork.
He didn't expect that.
But… he didn't mind.
He leaned back slightly, one hand brushing the edge of the red tag hanging just beneath his collar.
It was barely visible — but it was always there.
"Boizano is a secret organization," he said quietly. "They work in the shadows. Their job is to protect the world from crimes the official defense can't touch."
He took a sip of his drink.
"Their HQ is actually here. In this country. They do what needs to be done. And yeah… protecting. Why do you ask?"
Tamiki lowered her eyes to her plate.
Her voice dropped with it.
"Because that red dog tag of yours… it's not my first time seeing it, actually."
Teji's posture shifted.
Eyes locked onto her now.
"…What do you mean?"
Tamiki didn't look up.
"I saw it about ten years ago… when we were just kids."
Flashback: Ten Years Ago
The city pulsed with its usual rhythm.
Neon lights buzzed faintly. Laughter echoed from food stalls. The streets were warm with the smell of grilled meat and noodles.
Tamiki held her mother's hand.
Her father walked a few steps ahead, pointing at a ramen shop across the road.
"Let's try that place tonight," he said, smiling.
But then—
BOOM.
A blast tore through the street.
Windows shattered.
People screamed.
A deafening roar filled the air.
Tamiki froze.
Her father spun around, grabbed both of them, and pulled them down behind a parked car.
"Stay down!"
The road filled with smoke.
Sirens wailed in the distance. The air turned thick and sharp — dust, fire, something burning.
From the smoke, figures burst out — masked men, chaotic, sprinting through the crowd.
Gunfire snapped through the air.
The robbers were being hunted.
But whoever was chasing them… didn't seem to care who was in the way.
Civilians were getting shot.
Blood. Screams. People falling.
Tamiki was trembling, clutching her mother's hand. Her heart pounded so loud she couldn't hear herself think.
Then her father looked up — and saw it.
A child. Maybe six years old. Standing alone in the middle of the road, frozen, crying.
"Shit," her dad muttered.
Before Tamiki's mom could stop him, he was gone —
Dashing out into the open, into the danger.
Little Tamiki stared in confusion.
"Why is Dad running out? Why is everyone screaming?"
Her father reached the kid, scooped him up into his arms, and shouted, "This way!"
He pointed toward the parked car where Tamiki and her mom were still crouched.
The child made it.
Ran straight into safety.
But her father… didn't come back.
Another figure was cutting through the chaos now — fast, sharp, in control.
An agent. Black gear. Gun raised. Focused eyes locked on the escaping robbers.
Tamiki's father stepped in front of him.
Both hands raised, trying to stop him.
"You can't do this! There are too many civilians—!"
The agent didn't even blink.
"Shut the fuck up."
Flat. Cold. Like it wasn't even a person talking.
BANG.
The shot landed straight in his chest.
Tamiki screamed.
"DAD!!!"
Her mother grabbed her, held her tight, hands shaking, trying to cover her mouth.
But Tamiki saw it all.
Saw him fall.
Saw the blood.
Saw the way he didn't move after.
And then —
The agent stepped over his body.
Like he was just part of the rubble.
That's when she saw it.
Swinging loosely around the agent's neck.
A red dog tag.
Back to the Present
Tamiki finished her story and fell quiet.
Her eyes stayed down. Shoulders slightly tense, like holding something in.
Teji didn't speak at first.
He just looked at her.
Then leaned forward a little, his voice softer than before.
"…I'm sorry for your loss."
A pause.
"You had a great dad."
Tamiki gave a faint smile.
"Thanks… I didn't know what was happening. One moment we were just walking… until now, I can still hear the gunshot sometimes."
She looked away for a second.
"After that night, I never thought I'd see the red dog tag again. Especially not…"
Her eyes met his.
"…on you."
She stood up, brushing her skirt down with both hands.
"I'm gonna pay the bill. It's okay—I said it's on me, right?"
Teji nodded slightly, watching her walk toward the counter.
But something shifted.
Suddenly… the air felt heavier.
Subtle.
But real.
His body noticed it before his brain did. A small tightening in the chest. The quiet way the café's ambient noise faded into a dull hum.
He glanced at the door, then back at his glass.
Nearly empty.
He picked it up and finished the drink in one go.
Bitter at the end.
Then—
"Agent 4."
The voice came from beside him.
Close. Too close.
Teji's hand froze mid-motion.
His heartbeat stuttered.
He turned his head slowly.
A waiter was standing there.
Neatly dressed. Calm. Polite.
Too polite.
Teji narrowed his eyes.
His instincts were screaming — but there was no sign.
No killing intent. No pressure. No energy.
The man was like a blank sheet.
Ghost protocol.
"…How do you know me?" Teji asked, voice low, guarded.
The man reached into his shirt.
Pulled out a chain.
A red dog tag caught the café light — dull, familiar, unmistakable.
"Agent 5." the man said simply.
Teji felt his breath hitch.
Not from fear.
Just… confirmation.
"…Why are you here?"
His tone hardened. "Only one agent is allowed in a country at a time."
Agent 5 stayed composed. His voice stayed flat.
"Correct.
Except under one condition—"
His eyes met Teji's.
Dead calm.
"—When one agent is sent to eliminate another."
Teji's stomach dropped.
It wasn't shock. It was the silence after.
Then —
A whisper in his comms.
Boizano HQ.
Icy. Detached.
"Agent 4. Thank you for your service. We no longer require your presence. Agent 5 has been dispatched to carry out your retirement."
Teji stared at his empty glass.
One second. Two.
Then he let out a dry, quiet laugh.
Like a man who already knew.
Who just didn't expect it to be today.
"…Didn't expect it to be this soon."
Slowly, Teji pushed himself up from his seat.
Eyes locked onto Agent 5.
He didn't flinch.
Didn't hesitate.
"Let's get this done."
Agent 5 gave a small nod. No emotion. Just protocol.
His hand moved under the apron — smooth, practiced — and pulled out a compact, matte black pistol with a built-in suppressor.
It looked like it belonged there.
Like it had been waiting this whole time, hidden under trays and napkins, breathing in the scent of coffee and blood.
He raised it and pointed it straight at Teji's forehead.
"Agent 4…"
A pause. Like a line rehearsed in the dark.
"…Thank you for your service."
Teji's body stayed still.
But his eyes closed.
Silence stretched.
And in that stillness —
A whisper in his mind.
"Mom…
I'm tired.
Really tired of this world.
Finally… I'm gonna meet you.
Wait for me, Mom."
The barrel pressed gently against his skin. Cold. Final.
Then—
"TEJIII!!"
A voice shattered the quiet like a bolt of lightning tearing the sky open.
Teji's eyes snapped wide.
He turned—
The café blurred around him—
And there she was.
Tamiki.
Standing at the counter.
Her whole body trembling.
Tears swelling in her eyes. Jaw clenched like she was biting down pain. Hands balled into fists at her sides.
"What are you doing?!" she screamed.
"You're going to die!"
That voice—
It struck deeper than any bullet ever could.
Teji's breath caught.
For a second, nothing moved. Not even Agent 5.
Teji looked at her, really looked —
Not the girl from school.
Not the childhood friend.
Just someone who still cared.
Someone who didn't want to lose him.
He smiled, faintly.
And turned back to face the gun.
"…It's okay, Tamiki," he said, barely louder than a whisper.
His voice steady. Soft.
"I'm prepared for this.
This is… my fate."
But Tamiki stepped forward, trembling.
Her fists were clenched tight, like she was holding herself together with nothing but will.
Her voice cracked as it rose through the tension.
"Your life is not that cheap la, stupid!"
Teji froze.
Her words hit harder than the barrel ever could.
He blinked—just once.
And something inside him shifted.
Then—
Click.
The sound of the gun being cocked.
Agent 5's hand didn't shake. His expression didn't change.
He turned his head slowly toward Tamiki.
"Hey, woman," he said flatly.
No anger. No hesitation. Just another target.
"You're interfering with a sanctioned mission.
According to protocol, I can terminate anyone who stands in my way.
And that means you."
The pistol moved — smooth, practiced —
From Teji's head to Tamiki's chest.
Teji's eyes widened.
Time didn't slow. It snapped.
He moved. Instinct. Raw. Without thought.
One second he was still.
The next—
He launched himself across the floor.
BANG!
The suppressed shot punched the air.
Teji tackled Tamiki, crashing into her with full force.
They hit the ground hard, behind a fallen counter just as the bullet sliced through the space she'd been standing in.
Screams exploded.
Glass shattered.
Plates crashed down like broken echoes.
Then—
Silence.
Teji stayed over her, chest heaving.
His body shielded hers, arms tight around her like instinct had taken over everything else.
"…Are you okay?" he breathed, voice low and shaking.
Tamiki stared up at him.
Eyes wide.
Tears on the edge.
She nodded. Quiet. But clear.
Behind them, Agent 5 stepped forward.
No emotion.
No rush.
He lowered his gun calmly, like nothing just happened.
Pressed the mag release —
Click.
And began to reload.
But now—
Something was different.
Teji could feel it in his bones.
This wasn't just about orders anymore.
This wasn't about missions, codenames, or clean exits.
His fate wasn't sealed.
Because now, he had something to protect.
The café was a war zone — flipped chairs, broken dishes, empty silence.
Everyone had cleared out. The world outside was running.
But inside, only three remained:
Teji.
Tamiki.
Agent 5.
And it wasn't over yet.
Silence settled like dust after the storm.
Teji slowly rose from behind the counter.
His breaths came deep, steady—but heavy.
Each step forward was deliberate. Measured.
He looked Agent 5 straight in the eye.
"Hey…"
His voice was calm.
But firm. Grounded.
"Just take my life and finish your job, alright?
No need to kill anyone else.
Just do what you came here to do."
Agent 5 stared at him, unblinking.
Then—
He threw his head back and laughed.
"HAHAHAHA!"
The sound rang sharp across the café walls.
It wasn't joy.
It was madness.
When he looked back down, his grin was wide—
A twisted smile.
Eyes gleaming like broken glass.
"That's why you're not fit for Boizano."
His voice sliced through the space.
"You're too soft. Too naïve, Agent 4."
He stepped forward, slow and cocky.
The pistol still loose in his grip—like he didn't even need it yet.
"After I kill you, I'll track down every single person who was here today.
Even the ones who ran."
His tone dropped, colder than death.
"And your little girlfriend… I'll make sure she's last."
A whisper followed—sharp and venomous:
"Boizano doesn't leave loose ends."
Teji's fists clenched at his sides.
His jaw locked tight.
For a second, he didn't breathe.
He turned just enough to glance behind—
Tamiki was still crouched, holding her arm where she hit the ground.
Her eyes locked with his.
Scared. Shaking.
But still there.
Still with him.
He turned back to Agent 5.
And something inside Teji shifted.
Like a switch.
Like everything before this moment was just waiting for now.
His breath came smoother.
His stance settled.
Shoulders square. Chin up. Eyes clear.
"Then I'm not gonna let that happen."
No anger. No shouting.
Just a promise.
A quiet decision
That someone like Agent 5
Wasn't going to walk away, either.
[End of Chapter 8]