The rain in Heukseong tasted like iron. Kisuke sat on the edge of the rooftop, his legs dangling over the side. Three stories down, the street was wet and empty. He unwrapped a candy bar, the foil crinkling loudly in the silence. He took a bite. Chocolate. Peanuts. Sweet.
He chewed slowly, watching the target building across the street. Window four, second floor; the light had been on for six hours. "Shift change in ten," he whispered. His voice was light and casual, like he was talking to a friend, but there was no one there. He checked his watch. The luminous hands glowed green. He finished the candy bar, crumpled the wrapper, and put it in his pocket. He did not litter.
A shadow moved on the roof behind him. Kisuke did not turn, and he did not reach for his weapon. "You are late," he said. The shadow stepped into the light. It was a woman wearing a long coat, her hair gray. "I am exactly on time," she said, her voice rough like gravel grinding on glass.
