The night was cool, and the streets were empty, lit only by scattered lamps humming in the dark. The faint buzz echoed in the stillness, as if the city itself was holding its breath.
Tamiki walked a few steps behind Teji, her eyes on the uneven rhythm of his stride. His steps were slower now, dragging just slightly with each movement. His shirt clung to him, darkened by blood that had soaked through the fabric. The wound on his chest wasn't healing—it was getting worse with every step he took.
"Where are you going? You need to treat your wound," she said, picking up her pace to walk beside him.
"I'm heading to a safehouse," Teji replied, not meeting her eyes. "There's someone there who can patch me up."
Then he glanced over his left chest, his voice quieter. "Also... why are you following me? You need to go home. Your mom's probably worried sick."
Tamiki gave a small shrug, her expression unreadable. "She's not home. She's on a work trip in Germany. So don't try that excuse with me."
Teji scoffed softly and looked away. "I don't need your help," he muttered. "I'm good."
But just then, his knees buckled. It lasted only a second—but it was enough. A sharp breath escaped his lips, and he stumbled forward, nearly losing his balance.
Tamiki rushed to his side without hesitation, grabbing his arm and steadying him before he could fall. "I told you already... let me help you."
He clenched his jaw, eyes avoiding hers again. Pride and pain mixed in his silence.
Before he could argue, Tamiki reached for his right arm and pulled it around her shoulder. Her grip was firm as she wrapped her arm around his waist.
"Tamiki—"
"Shut up and walk," she said, her voice steady. Not harsh, not cold—just sure.
Together, they moved slowly down the quiet road, each step a quiet struggle. The night stretched on above them, stars hidden behind clouds, the city asleep and unaware. Two silhouettes against the silence, pressing forward through pain, doubt, and something unspoken.
They didn't say another word.
The safehouse was hidden beneath an old warehouse on the city's edge. It looked forgotten—windows shattered, walls cracked, the roof half-caved in. Behind a pile of rusted metal sheets, Teji pushed aside a loose panel, revealing a narrow stairwell that led underground. The stairs creaked with every step, the sound swallowed by the heavy air.
The bunker smelled of oil and dust—old concrete soaked in years of quiet survival. Dim yellow bulbs hung from the ceiling, their wires exposed and twisted, casting soft glows across the space. The light didn't reach every corner, leaving shadows to gather in the edges of the room.
Metal bunk beds lined the walls, though most were empty. Thin mats had been laid across the floor, where the rescued children now slept in curled groups, their bodies close for warmth. Their breathing had finally slowed—no more crying, no more trembling. Just quiet.
Teji and Tamiki stepped inside, and the door closed quietly behind them. The world outside stayed shut out, at least for now.
They had made it.
And for the first time that night, it felt like they could breathe.
At the back of the room, Agent 7 stood hunched over a metal table, the soft hiss of boiling water filling the silence. He moved with quiet focus, carefully sterilizing tools in the pot. The steam rose around him, curling into the dim light.
He looked up when the door clicked shut behind Teji and Tamiki.
"You're back," he said, setting down a cloth beside the tools. "Didn't think you'd look worse than last time."
Teji let out a breathy laugh, but it caught in his throat halfway through. Pain flickered across his face. Tamiki quickly helped lower him onto a bench near the center of the room. She stayed close, one hand still gently holding his arm as he settled down.
Her eyes scanned the room. There were no comforts here—no soft beds, no full shelves. Just worn-out supplies, cold walls. But it was quiet. And it was safe. For now, that was enough.
The bunker had no windows—only thin ventilation shafts cut high into the walls, and a hidden entrance covered with fake gravel outside. The air was thick with metal, dust, and old oil. It felt more like a tomb than a home—but in this world, it was a kind of shelter.
Agent 7 walked over and crouched beside Teji, his voice lower now. "You need help?"
Teji gave a slight nod, his voice weak. "Only you can do this."
Agent 7 nodded, reaching into a worn-out first aid kit. "I'm gonna give you a painkiller first. It's strong. Once it hits, you'll be out cold in a minute or two."
"Yeah... I know," Teji muttered, his eyelids already heavy.
Without another word, Agent 7 swabbed the area near the wound and slid the needle in. Teji winced briefly but didn't complain. Within seconds, his body began to relax. His shoulders dropped, and his breathing slowed.
"Wow," Agent 7 said under his breath. "That was fast."
Tamiki sat nearby on a crooked metal chair, her hands clasped in her lap, watching every move. Her gaze never left Teji.
"He lost a lot of blood today," she said quietly. "I think he fought another agent."
Agent 7 gave a low grunt, not surprised. He wiped his hands with a cloth and looked at her for the first time. "And who are you?"
Tamiki hesitated. "Uh... I'm his friend. Tamiki."
He raised an eyebrow. "You should be home. Why are you here?"
She looked down at her hands for a second, then met his eyes. "Please... just let me stay the night. I want to make sure he's okay."
Agent 7 let out a quiet sigh and nodded toward the far corner, where the children were huddled on their mats, sound asleep under thin blankets.
"If you get tired, you can rest with the kids over there—Deka, Kimi, and Airis."
"Thanks," Tamiki whispered.
But she didn't move. Her eyes stayed on Teji, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way his brows relaxed now that the pain had dulled. The flickering light made his skin look pale, the fresh bandages stark against it.
For tonight, this cold, rusted place was the safest place in the world.
Tamiki remained on the chair, quiet and still. She barely noticed the chill creeping through the bunker or the stiffness in her legs. All her focus was on the scene before her.
Agent 7 worked carefully, his hands steady despite the poor lighting. He cleaned the wound near Teji's upper chest—just below the collarbone—and began stitching it shut with practiced ease. Every tug of the thread was precise, each knot firm and fast. Blood had slowed, but the injury was deep. Tamiki could see the effort in Agent 7's face—not just in treating Teji, but in doing it right, in keeping him alive.
When the last stitch was tied, Agent 7 reached for a clean roll of bandages and began wrapping Teji's chest, firm but gentle.
Tamiki didn't speak. She just watched, her heartbeat finally starting to slow down.
Outside, the world was still dark and dangerous. But in this quiet, flickering moment, they had found something close to peace.
The slow, steady movements of Agent 7's hands, the gentle hiss of steam still drifting from the sterilized tools, and the quiet breaths of the sleeping children filled the bunker with a rare kind of peace. It wasn't warm or cozy, but it was still. Safe. For a moment, the chaos outside the trapdoor felt like a different world.
When he was done stitching and wrapping Teji's wound, Agent 7 let out a quiet breath and leaned back. He sat down across from Tamiki at the dented metal table, the flickering light casting faint shadows across his tired face. He glanced over at Teji—still unconscious, breathing slow and even—then looked to Tamiki.
"He'll wake up once the painkiller wears off," he said, voice low and even. "Maybe in an hour."
He turned and poured some water into a small, dented cup, then slid it across the table toward her. "Want a drink?"
Tamiki nodded. "Thank you," she said softly, accepting it with both hands.
She held the cup for a moment, letting the warmth steady her nerves. Her fingers were cold, her shoulders tense. The silence felt heavier now, but not uncomfortable—just quiet enough to let thoughts settle.
"I was really scared when I saw him fighting," she said after a pause. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "All that blood... it came from his chest. I thought he was going to die right there."
Agent 7 leaned back slightly in his chair, arms crossed. He looked toward Teji again. "He's tougher than he looks. But yeah… that was close."
Tamiki let her eyes drift around the bunker again—the cracked walls, the exposed pipes, the rusted edges of old equipment scattered around. "What is this place, anyway?"
"A bunker," Agent 7 answered simply. "Probably left behind from a war nobody remembers anymore. Teji brought us here after we—" he paused, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, "—after we almost killed each other."
Tamiki stared at him, surprised. "You fought him?"
Agent 7 nodded. "Boizano sent him with a mission. Said there were kids to rescue. But the whole thing was a lie. The kids were safe. I was the one who actually saved them—from Boizano."
She blinked. "So... why did he fight you?"
Agent 7's voice stayed calm, but there was a weight behind his words. "Because he didn't know. To him, I was just the target. Just another traitor. He followed the orders they gave him."
Tamiki looked at the floor for a moment, processing that. Then she asked, "What changed?"
He gave a slow nod, remembering. "The ceiling came down—big piece of debris, almost crushed the kids. I saved them. That's when he stopped. I think something clicked in him. Maybe for the first time, he started asking questions."
Tamiki turned her gaze back to Teji, watching the way his chest rose and fell beneath the bandages. Her voice dropped to a whisper again. "He's a good person. Just... lost."
Agent 7 gave her a look—thoughtful, and maybe even a little proud. "Exactly. He's stuck between what he was told to do... and what he knows is right."
He stretched slightly, arms behind his head, and let out a soft yawn. "Alright, I'm gonna catch some sleep. You should too. It's been a long day."
Tamiki shook her head gently. "It's okay. I want to wait... I want to be here when he wakes up."
Agent 7 gave a small nod, said nothing more. He walked over to a thin mattress laid out in one corner. The sound of his footsteps was soft against the concrete floor. He lay down without another word, rolling onto his side with his back to the dying light.
The bunker fell into silence again, broken only by the soft breathing of the sleeping kids, the crackle of the fire, and the quiet hum of air moving through the ventilation shafts.
An hour passed.
Tamiki didn't sleep. She sat in the same spot, elbows on the table, the now-empty cup still resting in her hands. Her eyes never strayed far from Teji. The shadows on his face shifted as the firelight dimmed, but the slow rhythm of his breathing stayed steady.
In the stillness, she let herself remember. His voice, the way he protected her back at the café, how he stood between her and danger without hesitation—even after everything he'd been through. There was pain behind his eyes, but there was also something else. Something fragile and real.
She didn't know exactly what would happen next. But she knew one thing.
She would stay.
She would wait.
Because in this cold, hidden place deep underground, something was beginning to change—and she didn't want to miss it.
The bunker was shrouded in a thick, heavy darkness, broken only by the faint orange flicker of a dying light bulb overhead. Shadows stretched long across the concrete walls, and the air was still, filled only with the soft, steady ticking of a clock bolted to the wall. It ticked past 1 a.m.
From the far side of the room, near the worn mats close to the dim light, came a faint rustle.
Teji stirred.
His eyes fluttered open slowly, the haze of sleep clinging to him for a moment before fading. He blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling, its cracked surface looking almost endless in the dim light. His chest throbbed with a dull ache—not sharp, but deep. It pulsed with each breath, a reminder of what happened. Still, it was bearable.
He pushed himself up slightly, his muscles stiff, his arms shaking just a little. As his eyes adjusted, he turned his head and spotted a figure across the room—sitting upright but clearly exhausted.
"...Tamiki?"
Her head shot up at the sound of her name, her eyes wide. In an instant, she was on her feet and rushing toward him, the relief on her face impossible to miss.
"Finally, you woke up," she breathed, kneeling beside him. Her voice was tired, but filled with something warm—genuine care.
Teji gave her a small, faint smile. "Why are you still here? I'm okay now, so you should go home."
She chuckled softly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand. "Hehe... it's already late, you know. It's 1 a.m. It's not safe for a girl like me to walk home alone at night." Her voice dropped slightly as she added, "Your friend said I could stay here tonight."
Teji let out a quiet sigh—not annoyed, just accepting. "Okay... but tomorrow morning, you should go home. I'll walk you back."
Tamiki nodded. "Okay." She hesitated, then looked down at her hands. "And um... also, I'm sorry. For calling you stupid earlier."
Teji blinked, a little surprised. Of all things, he hadn't expected that. A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "It's okay," he said softly. "You helped me walk all the way here, right? So now we're even."
She gave a small nod, a bit more relaxed now.
There was a brief silence between them, but it didn't feel awkward. Just calm.
"I need to sleep," Teji said at last, easing himself back down onto the mat, careful of his wound. "You should too. You look really sleepy."
Tamiki smiled, brushing a few strands of hair from her face. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Goodnight, Teji."
"Yeah," he murmured, already slipping back toward sleep. "Goodnight."
Tamiki stood and turned toward the far end of the bunker. One corner held a thin mattress and a pile of worn blankets, arranged carefully earlier by Agent 7. The floor was cold under her feet, but the air felt slightly warmer now. Softer, somehow.
She lay down slowly next to Airis, who had curled up into a tight little ball beneath one of the blankets. The child's tiny breaths rose and fell steadily, peaceful and quiet. Just a few steps away, Kimi and Deka slept huddled together, their small arms tightly wrapped around each other. A single thin blanket covered them both, though it barely reached their feet. Even so, they didn't seem to mind. In their sleep, they clung to each other like their lives depended on it.
Tamiki's eyes lingered on them for a moment. There was something fragile in the way they held on—even in sleep, they didn't let go.
She pulled a blanket over herself and let her head rest on the makeshift pillow. Her body was tired, but her heart was heavier. So many things had happened in such a short time, and it still didn't feel real. But Teji was safe. He was alive. That was enough for now.
Airis, her eyes half-open, whispered suddenly, "They always sleep like that after leaving Boizano. They say if they hug each other, they'll be more safe. Luckily, they don't include me."
Tamiki turned her head toward the voice, surprised to see Airis awake. "Eh? Did I wake you up? Sorry…" she whispered, guilt crossing her face.
Airis gave a small shrug and stayed lying down. "It's okay."
Tamiki looked over at Kimi and Deka again. The way they clung to each other, even in their sleep, said more than words could. They were just kids—but there was too much pain, too much fear. They hadn't chosen this life. It was forced on them.
Her chest tightened.
"I hope I can help you all," she murmured quietly, more to herself than to anyone else.
Airis sat up a little, her messy hair falling over her eyes. "I'm Airis," she said simply. "Are you Big Bro Teji's friend?"
Tamiki smiled gently and nodded. "Yeah, I am. Name's Tamiki."
Airis tilted her head slightly, watching her in the half-dark. Then, with a sudden boldness only children seemed to have, she asked, "So, Big Sis… what do you think about him?"
Tamiki blinked, caught off guard. "Ehh? What do you mean?"
Airis smiled sleepily. "For me, he's a good guy. He saved me. And Kimi. And Deka. And even Kimi's big brother. Even though his face doesn't look like it… he has a good heart."
Tamiki's expression softened. That simple answer made her heart ache a little. She finally understood what Teji meant to these kids—not just a fighter or a protector, but someone who gave them hope.
Her voice was quiet now, thoughtful. "Yeah… today, he saved me too. Even though he got himself injured."
"Wow…" Airis said, her voice already starting to fade. "Big Bro Teji must be really strong."
She yawned, curled back under the blanket, and mumbled, "Alright… Big Sis Tamiki… goodnight."
Tamiki chuckled softly and whispered, "Goodnight, Airis."
Airis turned onto her side and drifted off quickly, her breathing slow and steady, like the gentle rhythm of a lullaby. Tamiki lay back as well, staring up at the dark ceiling. The cold concrete felt a little less harsh now, but sleep didn't come right away.
Her thoughts stayed on Teji.
She remembered how he pushed forward with blood on his shirt and pain in his voice. How he never asked anyone to help him—not once, even when he clearly needed it.
And then she remembered what that man at the café said.
"You become weak because of that girl?"
Tamiki's hand clenched slightly on the thin blanket.
I won't be a burden, she promised herself. I'll find a way to help him. Any way I can. Even if I'm scared. Even if I don't know how yet.
With that thought in her heart, her eyes finally began to close. The weight of the day, the running, the fear, the worry—it all caught up with her. She fell asleep slowly, quietly, carried off by exhaustion and quiet resolve.
Morning came softly.
A faint beam of light slipped through the narrow vent high on the wall. It stretched across the bunker floor like a silver thread, catching dust in the air as it moved. The light gently touched Tamiki's face, warming her skin.
She stirred.
Her body felt sore, her mind still heavy, but she blinked and sat up slowly—only to realize something.
She was the last one awake.
Everyone else was already gathered around the small table. The kids too, sitting quietly. No laughter. Just tired eyes and the occasional clink of spoons against tin bowls. Teji sat quietly, Then he looked toward Agent 7 and said, "The place looks better than I remember. You've taken good care of it... and the kids."
Kimi grinned proudly. "Yes! My big bro really works hard for us!"
Agent 7 scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. "I only do what's best for all of us."
Then his voice shifted — lower, heavier. "But this place won't stay safe forever. I'm planning to relocate the safehouse soon. Boizano will sniff it out eventually." He stared ahead, not at Teji. "It would be nice if they were gone. I'd do anything for that future."
Then his gaze turned a little more serious as he asked, "Anyway... why did you fight another agent?"
Teji's smile faded. His voice was calm, but resolute. "Because Agent 5 threatened Tamiki. And I couldn't let that slide."
Agent 7 scoffed. "Tch. That guy. Always acting like he's something special. But you... I didn't expect you to save anyone. I thought you only looked out for yourself."
He leaned forward a little, watching Teji. "Guess I was wrong. That means you're still human... different from the rest of them."
Teji didn't respond right away. He looked down, something clouding his expression.
Am I a good person?
Am I even human?
Am I?
The questions echoed in his mind, louder than anything being said around him.
Then his eyes drifted to the mattress—and saw Tamiki sitting up, watching them with a soft smile.
Teji stood and picked up his jacket.
"I'm leaving now," he said quietly.
Deka, who had been silent the entire morning, surprised everyone by speaking. "err...Be careful, Big Bro Teji."
Teji paused. His hand twitched. "Yeah," he muttered, glancing at the quiet boy. "You too."
As Tamiki followed Teji toward the exit, Agent 7 stopped them.
"Be careful. You're not fully healed yet," Agent 7 said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the white bandage peeking out from under Teji's shirt. "Even if you're a special agent, you'll still die if you go up against another one like Agent 5."
His words weren't sharp—just honest. A quiet warning.
Then his gaze shifted to Tamiki.
"Please… look after him."
Tamiki froze for a second. Her breath caught in her throat. Then she gave a small nod, serious and quiet.
"Thank you all for letting me stay here," she said, bowing her head slightly to the others.
Agent 7 looked like he was about to speak, but a cheerful voice interrupted him.
"See you again, Big Sis Tamiki!" Airis waved from behind her half-empty bowl, a bright smile on her face despite the tension.
Tamiki let out a small giggle and waved back. "I hope so."
She turned and followed Teji out the door, the soft sound of it closing behind them.
Outside, the morning air was cool and still. A soft breeze passed by, carrying with it the smell of damp concrete and leaves. The streets were mostly empty. A few lights flickered on in windows as the city slowly began to wake. It was calm—but not the peaceful kind. More like the quiet before a storm.
Teji and Tamiki walked side by side without speaking. Their footsteps echoed faintly on the sidewalk.
After a while, Tamiki glanced at him, her voice breaking the silence gently.
"Hey… can I ask something?"
Teji looked at her. "Yeah?"
She hesitated a second, then asked, "Why do they stay there? That place… the safehouse. Why not somewhere else?"
Teji looked ahead, his eyes thoughtful.
"Because that's the only place where they can lay low. It's hidden, off Boizano's radar—for now, at least."
He paused, his tone growing heavier.
"Boizano is still hunting those kids. If they're found…" He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.
Tamiki looked down at the ground, her brows furrowed.
"I see… Poor kids," she said softly. "At that age, they should be laughing… playing outside… not hiding from people who want to hurt them."
Teji didn't say anything. He kept walking, his face unreadable. But her words stayed with him, like a quiet ache under the surface.
The rest of the walk passed in silence. Not the uncomfortable kind—just quiet, like both of them were deep in thought.
Soon, they turned onto Tamiki's street. Her house appeared at the far end, the gate still slightly crooked from the last time someone slammed it too hard.
Just before they reached it, Teji stopped.
Tamiki turned to him, waiting.
He looked at her seriously, the wind brushing his hair back slightly.
"After this... if anything feels off," he said, "if something strange happens—reach out to me."
He held her gaze.
"I'll help you."
Tamiki stopped too, blinking as if she hadn't heard him right.
"You… you will?" she asked, her voice softer than before.
Teji nodded, eyes fixed on the street ahead. "Yeah."
It was simple, but something about the way he said it made her heart beat a little faster. A soft warmth bloomed in her chest, quiet but steady. She smiled—small, unsure, but real.
"Alright. Thank you."
She turned toward her door, her hand almost reaching for the knob, but then paused. Her voice came out a little awkward, a bit hopeful.
"Err… see you again? Maybe… another café? Hehe…"
Teji's lips curled slightly, just enough to be called a smile.
"If I live long enough."
Before she could respond, he turned and walked off, his jacket shifting slightly with the wind. His figure grew smaller with each step, until he was just another shadow in the distance.
Tamiki stood there for a moment, her smile fading into something more thoughtful. Then, quietly, she opened her door and stepped inside, the silence of the street filling the space behind her.
Teji walked without purpose, his hands tucked into his pockets, his head low. The city stretched around him, quiet and half-asleep. His thoughts wandered—home? Food? Rest?
He wasn't sure what he needed.
Time passed slowly. Thirty minutes. Maybe more. His feet moved on their own until a familiar smell reached him—street food. The scent of grilled meat, warm broth, and fried dough.
He looked up. A food street he used to visit during calmer days stretched out in front of him, lights flickering dimly, stalls opening one by one.
He took a step forward.
But before his foot touched the road, a voice called out from behind.
"Oiii, Tejiii!"
He froze.
That voice…
He turned around slowly, eyes narrowing. Two figures approached from the far end of the street. One was waving both arms high, like he was calling out to an old friend he hadn't seen in years.
The other walked more slowly, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh.
"Can you not be so loud?" the calm one muttered. "You're being annoying."
"Eh? Am I? Sorryyy," the loud one replied, grinning like it didn't matter.
Teji stared at them, quiet and still.
He knew them.
There was no mistake.
Agent 2… and Agent 3.
His body didn't move, but the air around him shifted. It was subtle, but real. The calm from before faded—replaced by a quiet tension, like a string pulled too tight.
They were smiling.
But Teji knew better.
Nothing about this meeting was casual.
And just like that, he knew—something was about to happen.
[End of Chapter 10]