Page 18 of The Oni's Heart

"You think we’re done?" he growled, wiping the blood from his arm.

I stopped dead in my tracks. They had me cornered. The adrenaline was starting to fade, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

The second man appeared behind me, grinning through the blood and pulp of the orange I’d thrown at him. "You made a mistake running. You should’ve stayed put. In fact, all of this could have been avoided if you’d just let me buy you a drink."

I felt trapped. My knife was still in my hand, but I knew it wasn’t enough. These men weren’t scared. They weren’t backing down. They knew exactly who I was. Or at least, they thought they did.

Just when I thought I might have to fight my way out with everything I had left, I heard it. A footstep. Then another. Slow. Calculated.

I turned instinctively, my hand tightening around the knife. My body tensed, ready for more of the same.

But it wasn’t them.

It was him.

Tatsuya.

He stepped into the alley as if he owned it, his posture straight, his eyes locked on the two men. His presence was a wall of calm, and for a moment, it took everything in me not to drop my guard. I didn’t understand how he got here.

Was he with them? Was this all a setup?

Without a word, Tatsuya moved in a blur. One fluid motion, and he was on the first man. The strike was quick—graceful, even—but lethal. The man barely had time to react beforeTatsuya’s fist collided with his jaw, sending him crumpling to the ground. But that wasn’t all. Tatsuya moved again, fluid as water, grabbing the second man by the arm, twisting it with a crack that made me wince. The man howled in pain, and in the same breath, Tatsuya spun him around, locking his other arm in a painful hold.

I stood there frozen for a second, watching as Tatsuya effortlessly dismantled them. I had never seen someone move like this—so precise, so controlled, a body honed and made for this kind of violence. But it wasn’t mindless. It was calculated. He wasn’t just fighting for survival; he was in control of everything around him.

“You really think I’d allow you to touch her?” Tatsuya’s voice was steady, low, but full of authority. There was no hesitation in him.

A chill ran through my spine at his choice of words. Allow? Who the hell did he think he was?

The second man, still writhing in pain, spat blood at him. "Who the hell are you?" he growled.

Yeah, Tatsuya… We’d all like to know.

Tatsuya didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Instead, he tightened his grip, forcing the man to his knees with a look of disdain.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t stand there, watching him handle it all effortlessly. "No one asked for your help, monk," I snapped, my voice raw.

Tatsuya turned his gaze to me, his expression unreadable. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just stared, as if measuring me, as if he understood something I didn’t. His eyes flicked back to the two men, now on the ground and struggling to get up.

"Doesn’t matter," he said quietly, his tone holding a finality that made it clear this wasn’t up for debate. "You’re not alone."

For a split second, I felt something stir inside me, something I didn’t want to feel—something akin to relief. But I couldn’t let that show. I wouldn’t, not after everything.

This has to be a trick, right? He was probably working undercover for my father’s men. It was probably his plan all along to make me let my guard down. Why did we keep running into each other? Was he assigned to follow me? And to disguise himself as a monk, of all things? Isn't that sacrilegious?

Pfft. It's the Yakuza. They'll go to any lengths to get what they want. But what could be so important about me?

With a sharp motion, he let go of the second man, sending him sprawling to the ground. The man groaned in defeat, barely able to keep himself upright.

Tatsuya’s eyes met mine again, and there was something in his stare—a quiet, almost unspoken question, as if asking if I was okay, if I could bear whatever this was. I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t even know if anything between us was real or if it was all built on a foundation of lies too deep to see.

Without a word, I turned and walked away, but the weight of his presence followed me. I didn’t need to hear him speak to feel it—his silence hung heavy, suffocating the space between us. It was enough.

I walked faster, my steps quickening as the tension between us thickened. I could feel him behind me, close enough now that I could almost sense the heat of his presence. Then, without warning, I felt his fingers brush against my arm.

The touch was light, but it sent a jolt of panic through me, my survival instincts kicking in before my mind could catch up. I spun around, eyes wide, heart racing. My body instinctively took a step back, ready to flee.

Tatsuya froze, his hand still outstretched, and for a moment, there was only the thick silence between us, pulsing with something neither of us seemed ready to face.

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