And under it all… a strange, quiet pull.
To him.
To the dark.
To the truth.
.
.
.
The night after Mikey's revelations did not bring sleep to Yui. She tried to sleep but it was only tossing and turning in her bed and no actual sleep.
Later Yui sat curled on the couch of her modest apartment, the flickering city lights through the window mimicking the flickers of memory flashing through her mind, all those pictures projected on the wall.
Her fingers toyed restlessly with the folded list Mikey had handed her, as if unfolding it again might change the names written on it. Ghosts, he'd said. Her father's ghosts. Her ghosts too, now.
The silence in the room was oppressive.
She stood up abruptly, the list crumpling in her palm, and moved to the kitchen sink, splashing cold water on her face. Her reflection in the dark glass above the sink startled her—wide eyes, messy hair, trembling lips. That wasn't the composed Dr. Yui Konoe her patients saw. That wasn't the daughter her father raised.
That was a girl on the verge of choosing.
The knock came just after midnight.
Yui froze, heart pounding. She hadn't expected him so soon. Or maybe, part of her had.
She opened the door slowly.
Mikey stood there, silver hair tousled by the wind, dressed in black from his boots to his jacket. His eyes were unreadable, but something about the set of his mouth looked less severe than usual.
"You came," she whispered.
"You left the window light on," he said simply, stepping inside as if the distance between them had never existed. He smelled like rain and smoke, like the cold street he'd walked to get here.
She didn't ask how he knew where she lived because obviously she had seen him standing right outside her apartment building near that lamp post that other day.
Mikey looked around. Clean, minimal, quiet. Just like her. His gaze lingered on a framed photo of her and a young boy—her brother.
"You haven't really let go," he said.
Yui followed his gaze, her voice soft. "Some things stay with you whether you want them to or not."
He nodded, then walked further in, toward her couch. He sat, uninvited but not unwelcome. She watched him, arms crossed, unsure what came next.
"Why did you really come?" she asked finally.
"Because I wanted to see if you'd changed."
She raised an eyebrow. "In a day?"
"Some truths change everything."
Yui didn't reply. She walked over and sat beside him, deliberately leaving space between them. The silence grew again, but this time it wasn't cold. It felt like a question waiting to be asked.
Mikey leaned forward, elbows on knees. "I haven't stopped thinking about the look in your eyes. When you saw your brother on that tape."
She looked down. "My brother was my entire world after my mother died."
Mikey turned to her. "I get that. I had a brother too. Not by blood. But... he was the closest thing I ever had. Izane. He died protecting someone." Mikey chuckled finishing the sentence, his eyes had a hint of sadness.
Yui looked up sharply. For the first time, she saw the cracks beneath Mikey's indifference. The pain etched deep.
"You hide it well," she said.
"So do you."
The quiet stretched again. The hum of a passing car outside, the click of her kitchen clock. Then Mikey reached into his coat and pulled out a small, black notebook. He held it out.
"What's this?"
"The names. Not just your father's victims. Mine too. People I couldn't save. People I hurt. I write them down so I never forget what I owe."
She hesitated, then took it. The pages were filled with names, some written in blood-red ink. She saw one written again and again: Shinichiro.
"You blame yourself for them all?"
Mikey's voice was a whisper. "If I don't, who will?"
Yui closed the notebook gently. "You said I had a choice. What does that really mean?"
He looked at her then, eyes intense. "It means you can walk away now. Never see me again. Forget the names, the ghosts, your father's sins. Or..."
She waited.
"Or you stay. With me. And you help me take down the empire he built."
Yui's breath caught. "You want me to betray my own blood."
"He betrayed you first."
Her eyes stung, but she didn't cry. Not now. Not in front of him.
"What do you get if I stay?"
Mikey's answer was immediate. "A chance. To do things differently. To break the chain."
And then, softer, "Someone who sees me. Not Mikey the leader. Not Mikey the killer. Just... Manjiro."
Yui didn't speak for a long moment. Then she shifted closer, closing the space between them. Her hand reached for his, resting lightly over his knuckles.
"I don't know what I am yet," she said. "Victim. Pawn. Ally. But I know I'm not afraid of you."
He turned his hand, lacing their fingers.
"Good. Because I'm terrified of you."
She blinked. "Why?"
"Because you make me want something I shouldn't."
Her voice was a breath. "Like what?"
"Peace."
The word hung between them like a fragile thread. And then, as if drawn by gravity, Mikey leaned in. His lips brushed hers, tentative, not yet a kiss. Yui's heart hammered. She closed the distance.
Their lips met, and the kiss was soft. Not desperate or wild. It was slow, uncharted. A language neither had spoken in years. Mikey's hand came up to cup her jaw, thumb tracing her cheek. Yui leaned into him, hands curling into the fabric of his shirt.
When they finally parted, breathless, the world felt different.
Mikey rested his forehead against hers. "You still have time to walk away."
Yui smiled faintly. "Too late. I already let you in."
They stayed that way for a long time. No more lies. No more ghosts. Just two broken people in a quiet apartment, finding warmth in each other.
But outside, the city didn't sleep. And neither did the empire waiting to be toppled.
Yui stirred a pot of tea while Mikey leaned against the kitchen doorway, arms folded, watching her with a quiet kind of intensity.
"So," she said, without turning. "What's the real plan?"
"Kill him." Mikey shrugged.
Yui gave him 'the look'.
"Okay Okay!! Expose your father. Strip him down to bone and blood. Make the world see the monster behind the polished mask."
She handed him a cup. "And after? What happens to Bonten? To you?"
Mikey took the tea, fingers brushing hers, heat flaring between skin. "That depends on whether I can walk away. Or if I die trying."
She looked up at him. "You're not alone in this."
He tilted his head. "No?"
"No. I want the truth too. And justice. For my brother. For your people."
He gave a soft, humorless laugh. "You're braver than you look."
She smirked. "You're softer than you pretend."
They sat together on the balcony, the city spread out below them like a map of sins and salvation. For a while, they said nothing. Just sipped tea, shoulder to shoulder.
Yui dared to ask the next question. "Why me? Why bring me into this now?"
Mikey glanced sideways. "Because you're the key. You know your father's patterns. His lies. You understand both worlds—his and mine."
She nodded slowly. "And maybe... because I needed to remember who I was."
He watched her. "You're more than who you were. You're becoming who you need to be."
The air between them shifted again. Tension, yes, but not the dangerous kind. It was curiosity. Pull. The first threads of something like trust.
He stood to leave before dawn. She walked him to the door.
"Next time," she said, "don't knock. Just come in."
Mikey paused, then gave her a rare, real smile. "Dangerous invitation, Yui."
She shrugged. "I like danger."
He stepped closer. Lips grazed her cheek, near her jaw. A promise, or maybe a warning.
Then he was gone.
And Yui was left in the quiet again—but this time, it didn't feel so empty.