The following month passed quietly. The government had sent workers to renovate the orphanage, repairing worn walls and updating old facilities. The added funds also meant better meals for the children. The atmosphere was calm, even cheerful. Kimi, for her part, had begun her internship at last, the one she had long wished for, and her visits dwindled to only weekends. The children noticed, but the excitement over the improvements and the fresh meals kept them distracted enough.
Meanwhile, Junsei remained quiet. He spent his days staring into the distance or pouring over the elementary school books Kimi had sent him, absorbing what he could. Yet beneath the calm, he was always on edge. Even in the safety of the orphanage, his eyes would sometimes glow faintly blue as he sharpened his senses, listening for the faintest whisper or movement. He trusted none of the other children. The adults, while noticing his vigilance, could do little to ease it. The memory of Sykes' attack had left its mark.
Then, one night, everything changed. The clock had long since passed midnight, and the orphanage lay silent. Three black vans rolled silently up the drive. Eight men stepped out, clad entirely in black, faces obscured by gas masks. The leader surveyed the scene and barked an order:
"Matsu, use your quirk to isolate the orphanage. I don't want a single sound reaching outside."
Matsu nodded, and the leader turned to another man. "Are all the jamming devices on?" he asked.
"Don't worry, boss," came the reply. "Everything is ready."
The leader's eyes hardened. "Make sure no child is harmed, especially the one with the healing quirk. The Demon Lord is paying us more than ten times the usual for this."
A subordinate muttered in confusion. "I still don't understand why the sudden interest in children. He usually sends us after adults, with fully mature and powerful quirks. If the target was only the one with the healing quirk, I would understand that."
The leader replied. "We are not paid to know that."
A low chuckle ran through the men.
"Well, let's do this," said the leader. "Kin, release the gas."
Kin stepped forward, removed his glove, and a faint tube-like aperture appeared in his palm, from which a gray gas hissed. He pointed at the orphanage, and the mist seeped into every corner of the building, spreading silently and quickly. Five minutes passed before the team advanced, slipping through the main doors as the gas continued to fill the rooms.
In one of the upstairs bedrooms, Junsei lay still on his bed, eyes wide open. After Sykes's attack, he began to sleep like a rabbit, open eyed and always ready. The moment the gas entered, he sat up immediately, tense and aware. He glanced at his roommates, still deep in unconscious sleep, and back at the creeping gray gas. Though he didn't yet understand what it was, he felt a compulsion to sleep like he had once experienced when he was a lab rat.
But this time, instead of succumbing to sleep, his body adapted and changed internally. The gas didn't make him go to sleep and instead heightened his senses to the limit and made him enter a hyperactive state, ready for the danger.
His ears picked the faint sound of footsteps at the orphanage front, so he rose quietly and crept toward the hall. He wanted to find the threat and find a path to escape it. The moment he stepped out of the room, he lowered himself close to the floor, he moved like a shadow, silent as a stalking cat.
As he neared the front of the hall, a door creaked open. Kikyo emerged, her face pale but calm and she held her phone in hand. Their eyes met. She raised a finger to her lips, signaling him to stay silent.
She moved closer and whispered, "Go hide under my bed. I'll check what's happening. Do not step out unless I say so. Do you understand?"
Junsei noticed her shaking hands and recognized her fear. After a moment, he nodded, then moved as she said, he entered the room and slipped to hide under the bed, but he kept listening to his surroundings.
Kikyo watched until she was certain Junsei had slipped beneath the bed. Only then did she draw a slow, steady breath and move on, her steps slow as she edged to the end of hall. She crept toward the stairs and peered down. No one stood there, yet the sound reached her all the same: soft footsteps, pacing somewhere below.
Fear filled her. Her first instinct was to reach for her phone, but she already knew it would be useless, she already tried. And she knew whatever gas had flooded the building had dropped everyone into a deep sleep. Everyone except her, and Junsei for some reason. Kikyo swallowed. Her quirk, drug resistance, allowed her to shrug off gases, sedatives and most kinds of drugs.
She realized villains were doing this, they were attacking the orphanage. The thought made no sense. There was nothing here to steal, nothing worth the effort. She forced the question aside. Answers could come later, if there was a later. Carefully, she began to descend the stairs, each step placed with painstaking caution. She needed something to defend herself, Kagome, and the children. The kitchen. A knife. It was a thin hope, but it was all she had.
At the foot of the stairs, Kikyo leaned against the wall and peeked around the corner. The space beyond lay empty. Heart hammering, she broke into a quick, silent dash toward the kitchen. She crossed the threshold and froze.
Two men stood inside.
They turned at once. Kikyo's face drained of color. They lunged, hands reaching to restrain her. She struggled but they were stronger.
Upstairs, hidden beneath the bed, Junsei listened.
He heard everything.
The sudden rush of footsteps. Kikyo's muffled cry. The sounds of a frantic struggle. Then a voice "Tie the bitch."
Junsei's heart began to pound so hard it felt as though it might burst through his chest. He pressed himself flatter against the floor, every muscle trembling. Heavy boots passed through the upper floor, stopping briefly at the doorway. A glance inside. Nothing more. No one thought to look beneath the bed.
They were carrying the others out, the children, one by one.
Time dragged. Then, just as the noise seemed to ebb, his body went cold.
A sound rolled through the building.
Thunder.
Junsei knew that sound. He had learned it long ago. A gun. And when it sounded, something died.
The voice came from Kagome's room.
His limbs shook violently, his teeth clenching as he fought the urge to flee. He stayed where he was, frozen beneath the bed, as minutes crawled past. Voices echoed from below.
"All children are secured," a man said. "Except for one. There's a missing kid."
Then came Kikyo's sobbing followed by the dull thud of blows and cries of pain. They were threatening her. Demanding answers. Promising she would end up like the other one if she didn't talk.
Junsei's mind screamed at him to run. To escape. Self-preservation burned bright and fierce. Kikyo would give him up, it was only a matter of time.
But then he heard her voice through tears and pain.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said hoarsely. "You killed Kagome and took all the children. What else do you want? Just kill me, if that's what you want."
The shaking stopped.
A cold, dreadful calm settled over Junsei. She was lying. Choosing death rather than endangering him.
Images flickered through his mind, wolves standing shoulder to shoulder against a larger foe, animals he had once been, packs that never abandoned their own so long as survival was possible. Kikyo was doing the same.
And he was hiding.
He didn't know what to think. Guilt and fear tangled together until neither made sense. Then, slowly, another feeling rose to the surface.
The will to live.
Not just his own life, but hers. Kikyo's. His pack.
He did not want to die.
And he would not let her die either.
——————
The first floor trembled with tension. The boss's frustration was mounting by every passing moment. Matsu had kept the barrier, but he knew his subordinate was approaching his limit. If their control over the situation weakened, and a single shot or scream pierced the night, the entire operation would collapse.
He had never anticipated a caretaker would resist the sleeping gas. And she must have hidden the last child. His mind raced, calculating. If she had gone to such lengths for a single child, then that child must be valuable, worth far more than the others. It meant a bigger reward from the Demon Lord.
"Boss, I think we should leave," one of the men muttered. "A single child isn't worth it. We already got the rest. We can call it done and that we got everyone."
The boss whirled with fury. "Are you crazy? You want me to lie to The Demon Lord? I'd rather have an unfinished job than lie to him!"
Matsu interjected cautiously. "I think we should leave… we got the most important one. The rest… one unknown won't matter."
The boss's gaze flicked to the sobbing, tied-up Kikyo. He sneered, his grip tightening on the gun. "Screw you, bitch," he spat, lifting the weapon.
Kikyo closed her eyes, bracing for the inevitability.
Then, the man screamed. Kikyo's eyes snapped open. In front of her, Junsei gripped the man's arm, teeth sinking into flesh. With a single, horrifying twist reminiscent of a crocodile's death roll, the arm was ripped free. Blood sprayed across the floor, splattering against walls and tiles alike.
The man stumbled backward, screaming, his arm gone. Junsei released the limb, letting it thud grotesquely to the ground. Blood smeared across his face, and his eyes were glowing blue with no hint of whiteness. From him emanated a low, guttural growl, primal and terrifying.