Inside Anteiku.
Moonlight streamed through the large floor-to-ceiling windows.
Rectangular patches of pale light stretched across the wooden floor, outlining the café tables and chairs.
The faint smell of coffee grounds mixed with cleaning solution lingered in the quiet shop.
Touka Kirishima had not turned on the lights.
She walked straight to a booth beside the window and sat down in the deepest shadow of the room.
From there she could see both the back entrance and a faint view of the street outside.
She removed her dusty coat and threw it onto the chair beside her.
Only a dark shirt remained.
Time seemed strangely distorted in the silent café.
Every second stretched endlessly.
Touka sat upright.
Her hands rested on her knees.
Her fingertips unconsciously pressed into the fabric of her jeans.
Her violet eyes were fixed on the door leading to the back of the shop.
Every sound pulled at her nerves.
The hum of the refrigerator.
A distant car passing on the street.
Even the soft creak of the window frame in the wind.
All of it made her tense.
The image of Ren's relaxed smile kept appearing in her mind.
"…Don't die."
Her own voice from earlier seemed to echo in her ears.
An unfamiliar unease stirred inside her chest.
Logically, she knew he was powerful.
Stronger than most ghouls she had ever seen.
But the emotion rising within her refused to listen to logic.
Why had he spoken so casually back then?
Could he really—
Touka suddenly shook her head violently.
She forced the thought away.
Standing up abruptly, she walked toward the bar.
Her footsteps were silent.
She grabbed a clean cloth and began wiping the already spotless counter.
The cold metal beneath the cloth seeped through the fabric and cooled her trembling fingers slightly.
She wiped harder than necessary.
As if she could wipe away the anxious thoughts tangled in her mind.
Just as she put the cloth down—
A shadow appeared at the back entrance.
Touka froze.
Her pupils shrank sharply.
Her violet eyes locked onto the silhouette.
It was him.
Ren.
He had returned.
His dark coat was torn in several places.
The shoulders and cuffs were stained with dark patches that had not yet dried.
But his steps remained steady.
Even relaxed.
There were no visible wounds on his face.
Only a faint coldness remained in his eyes.
He looked up.
Their gazes met.
The chill in his expression softened slightly.
He tried to smile.
But only the corner of his lips moved faintly.
"Is it resolved?"
Touka's voice was calm.
Almost emotionless.
But her eyes scanned him carefully.
Checking every detail.
Searching for injuries.
"Yes."
His voice was slightly hoarse.
He casually adjusted the collar of his coat.
"Just a few investigators."
"Already dealt with."
His tone was casual.
As if he had simply taken out the trash.
He walked toward the bar.
His footsteps echoed softly in the quiet café.
As he approached—
The smell reached her.
Blood.
Heavy.
Mixed with gunpowder and dust.
Touka's nose twitched slightly.
Her fingers tightened under the counter.
She said nothing.
Just watched him approach.
He stopped a short distance away.
He seemed to notice the smell on himself as well.
His gaze dropped briefly toward the coffee cup Touka had just cleaned.
"…Sorry."
His voice was quiet.
"My presence probably polluted the air in the shop."
Touka did not respond immediately.
Her gaze passed over him.
As if trying to see through the walls—
Back to the slaughter that must have taken place in the alley.
After a moment—
She looked away.
Her tense shoulders relaxed slightly.
She picked up a clean glass.
Unscrewed a bottle of mineral water.
Clear water flowed into the glass.
The sound felt unusually loud in the silent café.
"Drink."
She pushed the glass toward him.
Her movement was simple.
Direct.
No extra words.
He looked at the glass.
Then at Touka's violet eyes in the shadow.
This time—
His smile became genuine.
Though still faintly tired.
"…Thanks."
He took the glass.
The cold surface pressed against his fingers.
Tilting his head back—
He drank it all in one gulp.
The water washed down his throat.
But it did nothing to remove the lingering metallic sweetness in his mouth.
He placed the empty glass on the marble counter.
Tap.
The sound echoed quietly.
Touka continued watching him.
The smell of blood around him seemed even stronger in the confined space.
"…You're not hurt?"
She finally asked.
Her eyes moved to the torn section of his coat.
The dark stain there looked particularly obvious in the dim light.
He followed her gaze.
Then shrugged lightly.
"Of course not."
His tone remained casual.
Then he added quietly—
"Sorry."
"I made you worry."
The words landed like a stone in still water.
Touka stiffened.
For a split second.
Annoyance flashed through her violet eyes.
She immediately looked away.
Her jaw tightened.
"I wasn't worried."
Her tone became stiff.
"I just didn't want you bleeding all over the café."
"Cleaning blood off the floor is annoying."
Inside his mind—
Carnage spoke again.
[She underestimated us.]
Ren rolled his eyes inwardly.
"That's called concern."
"You probably won't understand that feeling."
Carnage responded calmly.
[I only care about killing.]
It paused briefly.
Then added slowly—
[But tonight…]
[You did well.]
Ren ignored the symbiote's whisper.
The lingering thrill of battle still flowed through his veins.
The memory of slaughter refused to fade.