"Good to see you're not hiding behind that silly disguise anymore." His father's voice was calm. Conversational, even. But each word landed with the weight of a boulder dropped from a height.
"I saw no need for it." Shiro kept his tone easy. Calm, too calm. "I only used it to blend in. Get close enough."
"Close enough to do what?" his father asked, voice dripping with interest. The way a predator watches its prey, not because it's hungry, but because it's entertained.
A smile crept across Shiro's face. Small at first. Then it widened, slow, deliberate—until it became something that didn't belong on a human face.
"Isn't it obvious?"
Then the smile vanished. Just gone. Like it had never been there. What replaced it was darker. Colder.
His expression flattening into something that took every ounce of restraint he had to keep the fire burning beneath it from spilling out.
"To kill you. Of course."
