Chapter 26: Dahlia’s Demise

The quiet hum of the city filtered through the cracked window of their temporary safehouse. Neon lights from the streets below painted the walls in shifting shades of red and violet, blending into the darkness like dying embers. It was almost peaceful—almost.

Hana sat on the worn-out couch, her arms resting on her knees as she stared at the gun on the table. The cold metal gleamed under the dim lighting, a stark reminder of what was coming.

Tomorrow's mission wasn't like the others. This one had weight. A target too high-profile. A plan too rushed. Too many ways it could go wrong.

Chou stood by the window, her silhouette framed against the flickering cityscape. She hadn't spoken in a while, which was rare. Usually, she filled silence with easy chatter, teasing remarks, or random thoughts that made Hana roll her eyes but secretly enjoy.

But now, she was quiet.

And Hana hated it.

"You're thinking too hard again," Chou finally said, her voice breaking the silence like a ripple over still water.

Hana exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, well… someone has to."

Chou turned around, crossing the room in a few light steps before plopping down beside her. "You don't have to do it alone, you know."

Hana let out a dry chuckle. "You always say that."

"Because it's true."

There was a pause before Chou spoke again, this time softer. "This mission is big, but we've done big. It's nothing we can't handle."

Hana's fingers curled slightly on her knee. "That's not what I'm worried about."

Chou's brows furrowed slightly. She tilted her head. "Then what is it?"

Hana hesitated. She hated voicing things like this. Hated the weight it put in her own chest when she said things out loud. But this feeling—this gnawing unease—had been with her all day.

"I keep thinking… what if this is it?" Hana finally muttered. "What if this is the mission we don't come back from?"

Chou didn't answer right away. Her expression didn't shift into something joking or dismissive like Hana half-expected. Instead, she reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against Hana's hand before taking it fully in her own.

Her grip was warm. Steady.

"…Then we make sure it isn't."

Hana looked down at their hands. Chou's fingers curled slightly around hers, firm but not forceful. It made Hana's throat feel tight.

"It's not that simple," Hana said quietly.

Chou exhaled through her nose. "I know. But it's what we have."

Hana shook her head slightly. "You always act like things will just… work out."

"Because sometimes they do."

"And sometimes they don't."

Chou was quiet for a moment. Then, she squeezed Hana's hand, just a little. "I know that too."

Hana swallowed. She shouldn't be comforted by that. Shouldn't let herself feel this moment of warmth when everything ahead of them was uncertain. But she did.

She squeezed Chou's hand back.

"…Okay," she murmured. "We make sure it isn't."

Chou's lips curled into a small, reassuring smile. "That's the spirit."

For now, that was enough.

The next morning, Hana woke up before dawn. The city outside still buzzed, but inside, the safehouse was quiet. She turned her head slightly, eyes adjusting to the dimness.

Chou was curled up on the other side of the couch, her breathing even. One of her arms dangled over the edge, fingers twitching slightly in her sleep. Hana had gotten used to these little details. The way Chou always shifted to face toward her, even when asleep. The way she mumbled nonsense when she dreamed. The way her presence filled a room, even in silence.

Hana sighed, rubbing her temple before standing up. She needed air.

She stepped onto the small balcony, the early-morning chill biting at her skin. Below, the streets stretched endlessly, bathed in the glow of streetlights and neon signs. Somewhere out there, their target was waiting. Somewhere out there, things could go horribly wrong.

The mission was simple on paper—take out a key figure in a growing underground network. Someone powerful enough to cause trouble, but not powerful enough to be untouchable.

Except, nothing was ever that simple.

Hana heard the rustling of blankets before the soft creak of the balcony door. She didn't turn around as Chou stepped beside her.

"You're up early," Chou said, voice still laced with sleep.

Hana smirked slightly. "So are you."

Chou shrugged. "You left. I got curious."

They stood there for a moment, watching the city stretch out before them.

"…Do you remember the first time we did this?" Chou asked suddenly.

Hana blinked. "Did what?"

"Stayed up the night before a mission, just standing around like we had all the time in the world."

Hana scoffed lightly. "That was different."

"How?"

Hana turned her head slightly, meeting Chou's gaze. "Because back then, I didn't care if I made it back."

Chou didn't flinch, but something in her eyes shifted. She tilted her head slightly, considering Hana's words.

"…And now?"

Hana exhaled, turning back to the city. "Now, I do."

A breeze passed between them. Light, but cool.

Chou didn't say anything for a long moment. Then, she bumped her shoulder lightly against Hana's.

"Good," she murmured. "I'd be really pissed if you got yourself killed."

Hana let out a short laugh. "Oh? Pissed enough to actually cry?"

Chou gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. "How dare you. I don't cry."

"You teared up when your favorite bakery closed down."

"That was different! That was a tragedy."

Hana shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. Even in the middle of all this tension, Chou still managed to make her smile. It was one of the things Hana secretly liked most about her.

"…Let's just get through today," Hana muttered.

Chou nodded, her usual grin softening slightly. "Yeah."

And as they stood there, the city waking up around them, Hana told herself that they would.

They had to.