Chapter 17

Ding! Nagi's phone buzzed. Naturally he picked it up, thinking it was yet another notification from his account only to see Arato's text. It seemed Arato wanted to go home. Nagi sighed. Since Rei didn't have his car anymore, Arato preferred to stick around Nagi and follow him home. 

Nagi didn't blame him. Rei was a pain up the – a pain to deal with. He was loud, stupid, and never had a proper thought in his head… Nagi could go on listing. But Arato was quite troublesome too. Oftentimes he would go around killing small animals and staring at his work for hours on end after school, and then go missing. Then there were his panic attacks they had to look out for.

After Arato was reported twice by neighbours, Kenji made it a rule for either of them to make sure Arato got home. Nagi sighed and typed back asking him where he was. 

Ding! Nagi's phone buzzed. He barely glanced at it, assuming it was just another notification from one of his many social media accounts. But when he saw the sender's name—Arato—he sighed. He already knew what it was about before even opening the text.

Arato: Main door.

It was always like this. Ever since Rei lost his car, Arato had taken to sticking around Nagi and following him home. Nagi didn't really blame him. Rei was loud, stupid, and impulsive—his list of offenses was too long to count. But Arato was his own kind of trouble. He had a habit of wandering off, staring too long at things normal people didn't, and sometimes… killing small animals just to see what would happen. That last part had earned him two separate reports from the neighbors, which led to Kenji making a strict rule: someone had to make sure Arato got home.

Which meant it was Nagi's problem now.

Nagi: Wait there.

By the time he got to the main doors, Arato wasn't standing like a normal person waiting for a ride. No. He was pressed flat against the wall, half-hidden in the shadows, head tilted at an unnatural angle, watching the passing students like a horror movie ghost. A few kids side-eyed him warily before hurrying past, whispering.

Nagi stopped and gave him a look. "Why are you standing like that?"

Arato blinked slowly. "Feels right." Of course it did. Nagi sighed and motioned for him to start walking. The walk home was quiet, but not normal.

Arato wasn't a talker, but that didn't mean he didn't communicate in his own weird ways. He stopped walking at random moments, eyes locked on something in the distance. He muttered things under his breath, mostly to himself.

At one point, he lifted a hand and pointed at a perfectly normal bird on a power line. "That bird knows the wall." Nagi looked at Arato, pitying him.

"…Sure," he muttered, picking up his pace.

A few moments later, Nagi spotted Arato rubbed something dark red between his fingers. 

Nagi immediately grabbed the offending hand and pried it open despite Arato's resistance. "Brother, Don't tell me did this again!" 

A closer look at the smear showed it wasn't blood. Arato licked it off his fingertips. "Jam."

"…Where did you even get the jam?" Nagi was flabbergasted at this point, raising one of his eyebrows so high it was twitching. Arato pulled a whole jar out of his bag. Nagi wondered if Arato was prepared for the punishment he would get for stealing their mother's jar.

Like Arato was reading his mind, he said; "Didn't say it was mine." Nagi stopped walking altogether. He wasn't going to ask. He was absolutely not going to ask.

Instead, he exhaled sharply and started moving again. It wasn't until they crossed the street that Nagi felt it. The itch at the back of his neck. 

Someone was watching them.

At first, he ignored it. His paranoia had been acting up lately, and Arato wasn't exactly the easiest person to feel comfortable around. But after another block, the feeling didn't fade. If anything, it got stronger.

Subtly, he glanced over his shoulder.

Out of the corner of his eye—a shadow moved. Nagi's stomach tightened. He slowed his pace just a little, enough to listen without looking too obvious. Footsteps. Close. Too close.

Then—

A figure stepped out from behind a parked car. Their arm lifted— A gun.

Shit.

Bang. Nagi barely had time to think. Instinct took over. He lunged at Arato, tackling him to the pavement. The bullet whizzed past them, so close Nagi could hear the sharp tear of air.

Screams erupted from some other students nearby. This was a popular walking area for their school because it was safe from speeding cars, had many restaurants and outdoor cafes where students could frequent.

What was this shooter thinking?! Nagi thought. They must be a beginner.

Arato barely reacted. If anything, he just stared up at Nagi like he was analyzing an interesting bug. The shooter cursed, shifting aim— But Nagi was already moving. He grabbed Arato's wrist and bolted.

The scene exploded into chaos. Students ran in different directions, shouting. Some upperclassmen started yelling orders. Someone dumb pulled out their phone to record.

Using the distraction, Nagi yanked Arato straight into the next nearest crowd, weaving between panicked students. The shooter hesitated, thrown off by the sheer number of bodies in the way. That was all the opening Nagi needed.

"Come on," he hissed, dragging Arato toward the nearest alley. It was a bad move, but regarding their inhuman speed, it was the best option.

The moment they were out of sight from the main streets, Arato changed. His usual vacant expression sharpened into something eerily focused. His gaze flicked from shadow to shadow, scanning for threats. Every alleyway, every fire escape, every rooftop—he saw everything.

Nagi and Arato sprinted through the twisting alleys, their footsteps muffled by the damp pavement. Nagi had seen this before. Arato in survival mode was a different creature entirely.

They cut through the back of an old bookstore, darted past a row of rusting vending machines, and finally emerged into a quieter street. Only then did Nagi risk slowing down, his breath steady but his grip still tight on Arato's wrist.

"…We lost them," he muttered.

Arato said nothing, but he nodded.

They made the rest of the walk in tense silence, every sound feeling too loud, every passing car a potential threat. When they reached their house, Nagi shoved the door open, barely catching his breath—

Kenji was sitting in the living room, his head tilted forward slightly, while Reika stood behind him, massaging his shoulders with slow, almost lazy movements.

 Kenji, eyes half-lidded in relaxation, cracked open one eye, lazily glancing in their direction. "Oh. Kids." Reika pressed her fingers deeper into his shoulders, and Kenji let out a slow, contented exhale.

Reika pressed her fingers deeper into his shoulders, and Kenji let out a slow, contented exhale.

Neither of them noticed the tension in Nagi's stance or the way Arato's hands twitched at his sides or their dusty dishevelled clothes at first. 

But then Reika lifted her gaze and saw Arato's wide eyes. Kenji frowned, following her line of sight. THe only time that boy's eyes were wide was when he was looking at K-Pop items or when he was scared. Reika's hands dropped from Kenji's shoulders. "What happened?" Her voice was now sharp and alert.

Nagi swallowed. "Someone shot at us."

The air in the room immediately shifted.

Kenji's relaxation vanished in an instant. He straightened in his chair, all traces of laziness gone. Reika, on the other hand, paled. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her breathing shallow.

For a moment, neither parent spoke.

Their chasers knew their children.

Reika moved first. She strode toward them, eyes sweeping over their bodies, hands checking for injuries with a feverish desperation. She cupped Nagi's face, tilting it up, then Arato's, looking for any sign of harm.

"You're okay," she murmured, almost to herself. "You're safe."

Her grip returned on Arato's shoulders and tightened. He stared at her, unblinking.

Kenji ran a hand through his hair, tension weighing down his every movement. His jaw clenched. "Where's Rei?" Nagi blinked at Kenji's question. Then he glanced at Arato. Arato tilted his head. Neither of them spoke. Kenji's frown deepened. "Don't tell me you don't know."

"We…never know where he is, Dad." Nagi admitted.

Reika exhaled sharply, pressing two fingers to her temple. "Of course you don't. I don't know why you even asked, Kenji." Without another word, she pulled out her phone and tapped at the screen.

They almost never used the tracker. Rei had always been unpredictable—annoying, irresponsible, and a financial disaster, but he used to come home early, to bask in his material possessions.

So when Reika found his location and saw it pinging from his room, she exhaled, tension easing slightly. "He's in his room."

Without another word, she strode upstairs, pushing open his door— Empty.

The room was in its usual state of expensive disaster, but there was no Rei. Only the tracker, sitting neatly on his desk.

For a long moment, Reika just stared at it. Then, very slowly, she picked it up. Turned it over in her fingers. Her grip tightened. The casing shattered.

Downstairs, Kenji and the boys heard a sharp inhale— And then: "That absolute little—!" Kenji sighed, rubbing his temples. "So. Rei's missing."

Nagi crossed his arms. "Technically, he isn't. He just took off his tracker." Kenji shot him a look.

Reika stormed back down the stairs, eyes dark. "Find him," she ordered, already pulling out her contacts. "Now."