The fluorescent light above flickered once, then steadied, as if the room itself was unsure about what came next.
Kairo Inuzuka stood motionless in the cold intel chamber, its metallic walls humming with invisible servers and secrets. The air smelled like sterilized wires and unspoken sins. A single hologram hovered before him, casting a faint blue glow across his face unreadable, sharp, and stsafe "Operation Seraphim. Phase Four begins now," the voice declared. It wasn't human. It wasn't meant to be. Just like him.
Kairo didn't blink. Didn't twitch. Didn't ask what Phase Four meant. He had been trained for silence. The voice continued, cold and surgical. "You are to infiltrate Eden Academy. Target: General Ryusaki's daughter. She holds the only lead to the Cipher Protocol. We need you in position within ten days. No delays."
Kairo's eyes narrowed, just enough to count as reaction. "Position?" "You'll be her classmate's father. A civil analyst. A nobody. You'll build a family unit one wife, one child all paperwork must appear natural."
Kairo turned his head slightly, like his mind was calculating the absurdity of the request. "You want me to build… a family?" The silence that followed wasn't empty.
It was loaded. Then came the answer: "Yes. A fake family, Kairo. One that blends in. One that protects the child from suspicion. One that gets you inside." Something in his chest shiftedan ancient muscle twitching after years of sleep. It wasn't resistance. It was… memory.
He remembered the sound of a girl's laughter. A home that once existed. A war that burned it all. But those were someone else's emotions now. Ghost 9 didn't feel them. He only nodded.
"Understood."
The hologram faded, leaving only the sound of the air vent and Kairo's breath measured, quiet, alone.
He walked out of the room, passing walls full of black screens and sealed doors. He didn't stop. Didn't look back. But somewhere, deep behind the mask of the mission, a whisper echoed: Family? Again?
That word was once sacred to him.
Now it was a tool. Just another disguise to wear. Outside, the sky was overcast gray clouds heavy with decisions already made.
Kairo adjusted his collar and stepped into the crowd. He didn't stand out. He never did. But in ten days, he would become a father. In ten days, he would pretend to love. And maybe, just maybe…In pretending, something broken might finally start to feel again.
"Name?"
The voice floated through a fog of paper dust and flickering ceiling fans.
Kairo looked up, lifting his eyes just enough to meet the woman behind the glass barrier. She didn't smile right away, nor did she frown. Her expression was calm—so calm it made the entire registry office feel like a place outside time. She wore a beige turtleneck and dark gloves that covered her hands completely, even while typing. Her name badge read: Rhea Ayanami Civil Records Officer
Kairo studied her face in half a second. No signs of fatigue. No forced small talk. Eyes like still water clear, but deep enough to drown in. "Shino. Kairo Shino," he answered evenly.
"I'd like to file an adoption request."
Rhea's fingers paused on the keyboard. She looked up not suspiciously, not formally, but with a flicker of something else. Something human. "I see," she said softly. "Do you have a child in mind, Mr. Shino?"
He pulled out a sealed file from inside his coat and slid it through the tray at the bottom of the glass. Rhea opened it carefully, her eyes landing on the photo.
A girl.
Pink hair. Big eyes. Holding a torn teddy bear like it was her only protection from the world.
Her name: Lynne
Age: 6
Status: Abandoned. No known relatives. Multiple rejections from previous adoption attempts. There was a long pause. Rhea's hand brushed lightly against the photograph, her glove whispering over the paper. "She's... beautiful," she murmured.
Kairo didn't nod. Didn't blink. "She reminds me of someone."
That was half true. He'd chosen her for strategic reasons no ties, easy to clear but when he'd seen her eyes… something had shifted. Rhea looked up again. This time her expression had changed, just a little. Her eyes searched his face with quiet curiosity. "Not many single men adopt," she said.
"I know," he replied. "But I work stable hours. I'm not married, no debts, no criminal record. I thought… maybe it was time."
Lies again. Polished, convincing lies. But for a second, he noticed her pause. Not on his words. On his face. Like she saw something he didn't realize was visible. "You work for the City Records Department, right?" she asked gently. "Yes. Data classification division."
"Quiet job," she said, almost like a whisper to herself.
"Quiet suits me."
The silence after that felt heavier than it should have. Rhea printed a form, stamped it, and slid it back under the glass. "You'll need to visit the child within 24 hours to confirm emotional compatibility," she said.
"Understood."
He stood to leave, but her voice stopped him halfway. "Mr. Shino?"
He turned slightly. "That little girl... she's more than her file," Rhea said."Just… don't treat her like a task." For the first time since entering, Kairo blinked. "I wasn't planning to."
But even as he walked away, that one line from her followed him out like a shadow: "Don't treat her like a task."And something inside his chest, something long-dead, shifted again. The orphanage was quiet.
Too quiet.
Lynne sat on the cracked marble steps with her knees pulled close to her chest, arms wrapped tight around a faded teddy bear missing one eye. The sky above was pale blue, but to her, it always looked gray. Mr. Muffles that was what she'd named the bear. Because he never talked. Never lied. Just listened.
"He's coming," she whispered into Mr. Muffles' torn ear.
Not because someone had told her. Not because she saw the car pulling up through the fence. But because she heard it. The thoughts. They came before the man. Low, unreadable frequencies like ripples in water quiet, but sharp. So different from the usual ones filled with guilt or pity. She felt them first. Or rather… didn't. There were always voices in her head. Words not spoken, memories not hers. But today, there was silence. Someone was coming… but she couldn't hear him. That terrified her more than the screaming minds.
The gate creaked open. Black shoes stepped onto the gravel polished, perfect. The man was tall, neat, controlled. Every movement calculated. He didn't look around like the others. Didn't flinch at the peeling paint or the weeds. He looked straight at her.
Lynne's fingers tightened around Mr. Muffles. She fought the instinct to run inside, to vanish into the shadows like she always did. But something about him stopped her. Not kindness. Not danger.
Stillness. "Like a silent storm," her thoughts whispered.
Kairo approached slowly, his coat brushing against the wind, his eyes locked on the girl like a strategist reading a battlefield. So this was her. Pink hair. Thin frame. Eyes too big for her age as if she had lived twice the years."Lynne," he said.
She blinked. "Are you… here to take me?" Her voice cracked slightly, but she didn't look away.
Kairo crouched, his long coat folding around him like wings. "Only if you want me to."
She blinked again. No one ever asked that.
They said: "You're lucky someone picked you."
Or
"Behave or you'll be returned."
But this man He gave her a choice. Still… there were no thoughts. No noise. Just silence, like a blank page. Like he wasn't thinking anything at all. "Are you broken too?" she thought, but didn't say.
Instead, she stood. Her feet wobbled slightly. She stepped forward, clutching Mr. Muffles tightly. "Okay."
Kairo stood up. Towered over her like a shadow. But he didn't offer his hand. He waited. So she reached out first tiny fingers wrapping around two of his. And for the first time in her short life…The silence felt safe.