A New Story Unfolds

  Senya sensed it before he saw it.

  Laughter. The wrong kind. Sharp. Pressing.

  “Come on, don’t be like that.”

  “Just talk to us.”

  He turned toward the voices.

  A young woman stood pinned against a stone wall, three men closing in around her. Their smiles were careless. Amused. Her back was flat against the cold surface, fists clenched at her sides, eyes searching for a way out that wasn’t there.

  That was enough.

  Senya stepped forward.

  “Move,” he said calmly.

  The men turned, irritation flashing across their faces.

  “And who are you supposed to—”

  They never finished.

  Senya moved before the words could settle. He didn’t draw his blade. He didn’t need to. The scabbard cut through the air with controlled precision.

  One strike to the side of the neck.

  Another to the ribs.

  A final blow to the jaw.

  The sounds were dull and efficient. In seconds, all three men were on the ground, unconscious before they could fully process what had happened.

  Silence returned to the street.

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  The girl’s knees buckled.

  Senya reacted without thinking. He caught her before she hit the ground, steadying her with one arm, placing himself between her and the fallen men out of instinct rather than thought.

  “You’re safe now,” he said evenly. “They won’t—”

  Smack.

  The sound cracked through the air.

  Senya blinked, his face turning slightly from the force of it.

  “P-Pervert!” she shouted, panic overriding everything else. Her cheeks were flushed, breathing uneven. She shoved herself out of his grasp and stumbled back. “Don’t touch me!”

  “Wait,” Senya started.

  But she was already running.

  She didn’t look back.

  Her footsteps faded down the street until there was nothing left but quiet.

  No gratitude. No acknowledgment. Only fear.

  Senya stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty road.

  Slowly, he lowered his hand.

  “…I see,” he murmured.

  He glanced down at the unconscious men, then toward the direction she had fled.

  For the first time since returning, something new stirred inside him.

  Not anger.

  Not pride.

  Just a quiet, unfamiliar disappointment.

  He adjusted his grip on the sheathed blade at his side and continued walking.

  Alone again.