: The Watcher's Mark

"Curiosity is a dangerous thing—especially when it looks like her."

Hikaru Tachibana never got caught.

Not by guards. Not by shadows. And definitely not by girls half his size with blades pressed to his neck.

Yet here he was—kneeling by the riverbank with a bokken hovering behind his skull like a divine judgment.

He smirked.

"You always greet strangers with a weapon, or is it just your charm?"

No answer. Just the sharp tension of silence and the weight of her presence. She was close. Too close.

He could hear her breath—calm, measured—like someone who didn't fear much. Or anyone.

He slowly turned his head, eyes rising to meet hers.

There she was.

And for a split second, time slowed.

In all my years wandering the spaces between grudges and revenge, I've never encountered a warrior with the caliber of this girl. Japanese women are known to be graceful and often slight, but Nala's appearance defies every expectation. Her sunlit, dark brown skin glowed like tempered bronze. She's full-figured and fit, every curve and muscle honed by discipline and raw willpower. Her eyes—piercing, enigmatic, and brimming with a storm of secrets—captivated me as much as they warned of the battles fought within. She's a contradiction: soft in form yet unyielding like a sharpened blade. And in these few moments, even as her sword presses against my neck, I find myself both annoyed and undeniably intrigued.

"You've been following us," she said.

No room for denial.

"Observing," he corrected, flashing a slow, deliberate grin. "Not my fault you're interesting."

Earlier that morning

He'd seen her from the tree line, kneeling to help an old woman lift her basket. The woman with her talked too much. However, she didn't say a word. But her eyes—he could read people through their eyes—held a storm she refused to name.

It was the tattoo on her arm that had made him follow. The black lotus.

He'd seen that symbol before. Not carved on soft skin, but etched into parchment... and burned into bodies.

Back to present

"You got a name, stalker?" Nala asked, still not lowering her weapon.

He rolled his eyes, brushing a strand of black hair from his brow. The scar that cut through his left eyebrow caught the sun.

"Hikaru Tachibana."

"Never heard of you."

"Most people haven't. That's sort of the point."

She stepped back, but only slightly. The blade didn't leave her hand.

"What do you want with me?" she asked.

He glanced to the side. Lena was approaching fast—messy hair, wild eyes, and a rice ball halfway finished in her palm.

Of course. The chaos twin.

"Is he cute or dangerous?" she shouted. "Because he looks like both."

Nala didn't blink. Hikaru sighed.

"A bit of both," he muttered. "Depending on the day."

She held her gaze steady and, with a sharp intonation, said, 'My name is Nala Hisakawa.'

I raised an eyebrow. 'Nala... as in the Black Flower?'

Before I could add anything more, her friend chimed in from the side, her tone a mixture of mirth and insistence. 'And I'm Lena Tanaka—we're not here to play guessing games, mister. You'd better start talking before the day ends.'

A moment of charged silence passed between us as I absorbed their introductions. In that brief exchange, not only did I come to know who they were, but I also understood that in this tangled dance of fate, names carried as much weight as any blade. And though I'd come prepared to follow shadows, here stood Nala Hisakawa—the girl who refused to be ordinary—with eyes that promised both fire and mystery.

They moved to a quieter corner near the rocks. Nala finally let him sit upright, but didn't let her guard drop. Hikaru admired that. She was sharp. Watching every twitch, every word.

Lena plopped down beside them, swinging her legs like they weren't sitting across from a potential threat.

"He said he's not part of the Lotus," Nala said, more to herself than them.

"But he knows about it. Why else follow us?"

Hikaru leaned forward. "Because your tattoo is a death sentence in the wrong town. And I'm trying to figure out why someone like you—someone strong, disciplined, dangerous—carries it like a badge."

Nala's lips tightened.

"My family was slaughtered because of that symbol," she said.

He didn't flinch. His voice was low, honest.

"So was mine."

The air changed.

Flashback — Hikaru, age 10

Fire. Screams. A mark painted in blood on the walls.

He'd been the only one fast enough to hide. The only one foolish enough to go back and study the ashes. To find clues.

The Lotus wasn't just a name. It was a network. And someone was trying to burn every root it had left.

Back in the present, he stared at Nala.

"I don't trust you," she said.

"Good."

"But I don't think you're lying."

"Then we're halfway to friendship," he grinned.

She rolled her eyes. "Or halfway to cutting your throat."

Lena clapped her hands. "Okay! Enough. You two clearly hate each other but it's obvious you both have a common enemy. So, let's make a deal."

They both turned to her.

"You'll work together," Lena said, pointing at them like a referee at a street brawl.

"Same goal. Same enemy. Just don't kill each other."

I shrug, still locking eyes with Nala, whose expression is a blend of fury and something unreadable. "Maybe we don't have a choice," I say. "Maybe it's a bitter necessity."

Nala's gaze hardens. "I'm not agreeing to anything until you prove you're more than just another shadow following me. Understand?"

I cock an eyebrow, the scar on my brow catching the meager light. "I don't expect you to trust me. I expect you to keep your wits about you. But if we're on the same path, we'll clash and bicker until we're both bloody—and then maybe... we'll just have to accept that even enemies can stand together in the face of a greater threat."

As Lena steps in to mediate and balance our bickering, I feel an odd mix of triumph and vulnerability. I've laid my cards on the table, albeit with a dash of sarcasm and defiance.

For now, I remain the silent observer with a sword at my neck, a reluctant ally with grudges and ambition. And as the night deepens around us, the river murmuring ancient secrets in the distance, the truth begins to set in: our fates are now intertwined, whether we like it or not.

But as they walked side by side, tension between them like static, Hikaru stole another glance.

He hadn't lied.

He didn't trust her.

But he'd never met anyone like her either.

And for the first time in years...

He didn't feel alone.