Chapter 6
Ranzo's eyes were locked onto his dual-monitor gaming rig, his fingers dancing across the mechanical keyboard with a frantic, rhythmic intensity. The clicking of the mouse buttons echoed in the dimly lit room, yet his mind was a battlefield of restless thoughts.
So, this was the truth about Marine... after fifteen long years, I finally know, he mused, his gaze never wavering from the high-speed chase on the screen. That tear... was it a glitch in my system? How could a mere story break through a decade of cold indifference? I'm not supposed to be like this.
Suddenly, a notification pinged on his screen. A message from Sanko, his long-time friend and gaming partner, appeared in the chat box.
Sanko: "Yo, Ranzo! You're playing like trash today. What's going on? You're usually a beast at this."
The text snapped Ranzo out of his trance. He shook his head and typed back.
Ranzo: "I'm fine. Just not in the mood for an MVP run today."
Sanko: "If you keep playing like this, the exhaustion is going to catch up. By the way, how was the trip to the snowy mountains?"
Ranzo: "It was fine. Stop texting, Sanko, and focus on the objective."
Sanko: "Whatever, man. Hey, you asked about that mysterious man last night. I think the Boss might know something about him."
Ranzo's pupils dilated. He leaned closer to the screen.
Ranzo: "Are you sure? Does she have information on him?"
Sanko: "Likely. Do you have a photo?"
Ranzo: "Yeah. I took a snap before he plunged into the abyss."
Sanko: "Perfect. The Boss needs to see you for something urgent anyway. Be at the safehouse by 9 PM tonight. Show her the photo then."
Ranzo: "Fine. But tell her this: if it's another midnight mission, I'm out. My final exams start next week. I need the nights to study."
Sanko: "LMAO! Since when did the top student of the year become so paranoid? You've been acing these exams since we were kids."
A smirk of pure arrogance played on Ranzo's lips.
Ranzo: "Is that even a question? But this is my final year. I'm aiming for 100%. I want that 'Student of the Year' award to stay in my cabinet."
Sanko: "True. You're the only one who can pull it off. Ten years ago, a girl named Rami took that award. It's only fitting that a decade later, it goes to you. Consider this my early congratulations."
Ranzo: "Shut up and play. I'll be there tonight, but only for the intel."
Sanko: "We'll see. The Boss decides what you do, not you."
Ranzo: "What's that supposed to mean? Will she cut my pay if I refuse?"
Sanko: "Silence. Enemies ahead. Focus."
A flash of irritation crossed Ranzo's face. "The nerve of this guy to ignore me..." he muttered. Then, another text popped up.
Sanko: "My bad, I misread your text. To be honest, I don't know the answer to that. Don't be mad, your anger scares me."
Ranzo: "Good. Cover me. I'm going in."
Sanko: "As you wish, Master Ace."
For a few minutes, the digital chaos helped Ranzo suppress the haunting echoes of Marine's past. He was fully immersed in the game when a soft, hesitant knock came at the door.
"Ranzo? It's me... can I come in?" Marine's voice was barely a whisper.
Ranzo had his noise-canceling headphones on, drowning out the world. After three more knocks, Marine pushed the door open. She stood there for a moment, watching him lost in his virtual world. A faint, sad smile touched her lips—a small shield against her own lingering pain.
She walked up behind him, but he didn't notice. She reached out, her fingers gently touching his shoulder.
Ranzo jumped, nearly falling out of his chair as he spun around, eyes wide with shock. Seeing his exaggerated reaction, Marine let out a genuine, soft giggle. "Remember? You said I could play a round with you."
Ranzo pulled off his headphones, his heart still racing. "I... I'm sorry. I was too deep in the game. I didn't realize you were here. What were you saying?"
Marine's heart skipped a beat. Did he just... apologize? "I said, remember your promise?"
Ranzo paused, his mind reeling back. "Yeah. I remember. But I'm mid-match with my friends right now. Give me ten minutes. We'll play on the PlayStation then."
"Can I sit and watch you play on the PC for those ten minutes?" she asked.
Usually, Ranzo would have snapped a "No" without thinking. But today, something was different. "Fine. Grab a chair. Sit."
Marine was stunned. Since when did Ranzo become so... accommodating? She didn't say a word, simply pulled up a chair and watched the screen with wide, curious eyes.
Five minutes passed. The rhythmic clicking of the mouse acted like a lullaby to her exhausted soul. Feeling her eyelids grow heavy, she leaned over and rested her head on Ranzo's shoulder.
Ranzo felt the weight, but he didn't flinch. He didn't push her away. He kept his focus on the screen, his movements steady despite the warmth spreading from his shoulder.
When the ten minutes were up, he pulled off his headphones and placed them on the desk. "Ten minutes are up. Ready to—"
He stopped. Marine didn't answer.
Looking out of the corner of his eye, he saw her. She was fast asleep, her head nestled deeply against his shoulder. A rare, genuine smile tugged at the corners of Ranzo's lips.
He moved with surgical precision, sliding his arms under her and lifting her into a bridal carry. As he leaned over to lay her on his bed, a sharp pang of pain shot through his lower back from an old injury. He bit back a groan, lowering himself further to compensate.
In that moment, their faces were only inches apart.
The soft sound of Marine's rhythmic breathing filled his ears. The warmth of her breath brushed against his cheek, sending an unfamiliar heat rushing to his face. His cheeks flared into a deep crimson.
He quickly laid her down, pulled the covers over her, and stood up straight, his heart hammering against his ribs. Good grief... you're dangerous, he thought, exhaling a breath he didn't know he was holding.
He turned on the heater to ensure she stayed warm, then grabbed his coat. Taking one last look at her peaceful, sleeping face, he smiled and stepped out of the room into the cold night.