Sera closed the door behind her and stepped into the night. The air was cool, and a light drizzle misted the streets, but she was too exhausted to care.
It had been a grueling double shift for the past three days, covering for her sick friend, and her body ached in protest. Her mind was foggy, and she only had one goal: to get home quickly.
She cut through a familiar dark alley, her footsteps quick and heavy, each step pulling her closer to the safety of her apartment.
Ryou followed her at a distance, careful to stay hidden in the shadows. He kept a close watch on her, moving swiftly but silently, like a shadow that never quite let her out of sight. He was always there, unseen, watching over her, but never daring to show himself.
As she trudged down the damp, uneven path, Sera didn't notice how the road ahead was jagged. Suddenly, a small flower branch fluttered down in front of her. It was thin and light, not enough to cause harm. It was just a thin twig with pale blossoms, not enough to cause harm, but it made her stop in her tracks.
She blinked, confused, and glanced down at the uneven pavement beneath her. Only then did she realize how close she had come to tripping. She shifted her weight and moved a little to the left, avoiding the hazard entirely.
What Sera didn't know was that the branch hadn't fallen by accident. Ryou had been perched high on that tree for a brief moment. He had been watching her from the shadows, ensuring she avoided the uneven ground. His intervention was subtle—silent, unseen—but it happened countless times, every day, every step of the way. It was like the wind itself, unseen and unnoticed, nudging things out of her path.
It wasn't just flowers or branches he protected her from. There had been moments when he'd silently redirected a loose flyer that had been on its way to slap her face, or when he'd nudged an open window away from her head just as she was looking down, oblivious to the danger. Ryou kept her safe from the world, keeping his presence a secret, like a shadow that only existed to protect her.
Sera continued walking, unaware of the invisible hand that had guided her yet again.
She was just about to make the last turn, the final stretch to the main street, when something—or rather, someone—caught her attention. A figure stepped out from the darkness at the end of the alley. A slender man in a black hoodie, his face hidden beneath the shadow of his hood.
Even though she couldn't see his features clearly, there was something about his smile that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. It was too wide, too eerie—an unsettling grin that froze her in place.
She took a step back instinctively, her heart thudding in her chest. But just as the man began to take a step closer, something caught his attention. His eyes flicked to the side, to something—or someone—just behind her.
From a hidden spot beneath a nearby sakura tree, a pair of golden eyes glinting coldly in the moonlight. Even from a distance, the intensity of his gaze was enough to make anyone pause. The man froze, his grin faltering, and for a brief moment, their eyes met. The hooded figure's face shifted into one of pure instinctual fear, and in an instant, he turned and fled back into the shadows.
Sera hadn't seen any of it. But she did notice the man's sudden retreat. She spun around, her heart racing, but there was no one behind her. The alley was empty, silent as ever.
Confused and unsettled, she looked around one more time before resuming her walk home. Her mind raced with questions, but no answers. She couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened, something that had just saved her.
The rest of the way home was quiet. Yet, the longer she walked, the more she realized how many times something like this had happened. She'd almost been in danger—more times than she could count—but each time, it felt as though something had intervened, just in time. Sometimes it was as simple as the wind blowing a stray flyer out of her face. Other times, it was a strange sound above her head that made her stop just in time to avoid an old man throwing a bucket of dirty water.
And then there were the times when men—strange, shady men—even a group of thugs would cross her path. She lived alone in a rundown part of the city, so it wasn't unusual for her to encounter these kinds of people. But every time it happened, they seemed to take one look at her and turn away, as if something—someone—was standing just behind her.
She never knew who—or what—it was, but something about it felt protective. Protective in a way that went beyond mere chance.
The realization began to settle in slowly, like a truth creeping up from the corners of her mind. It wasn't her that they were scared of. It was something else. Something—or someone—that had been watching over her all this time.