The residential street was unusually quiet at dawn. Pale sunlight spilled between apartment buildings as a moving van rolled to a stop in front of one of them. There was nothing special about the place—just another peaceful corner of the city where ordinary people lived ordinary lives.
A man stepped out of the van carrying a cardboard box labeled Books.
Mr. Kaito looked calm, almost boring. His black hair was neatly combed, his suit wrinkle-free, and a pair of thin glasses rested on his nose. To anyone watching, he was just another office worker moving into a new apartment.
New mission. New identity, he thought as he adjusted his grip on the box.
He paused for a moment and glanced up at the sky. The sunrise painted the clouds in soft shades of orange and gold. A quiet world. A safe-looking world.
"Time to blend in," he whispered.
Inside the apartment hallway, Kaito greeted an elderly woman as she passed by. He offered a polite smile, the kind perfected through years of practice.
"Good morning, ma'am."
The woman smiled back warmly and continued on her way.
Across the hall, a door slowly creaked open.
A young woman peeked out, holding the hand of a small girl with bright, curious eyes. The child stared at Kaito as if she had just discovered something incredible.
"Mom," the girl whispered excitedly, "he looks like a superhero."
The woman chuckled softly. "Maybe just a nice neighbor."
Kaito noticed them from the corner of his eye. He returned their wave with a courteous nod, his smile perfectly measured.
Smile. Don't reveal anything.
The hallway fell quiet again, filled only with the ordinary peace of everyday life.
Once inside his apartment, Kaito locked the door behind him.
The polite smile vanished.
He removed his glasses, and his gentle expression sharpened instantly. The calm neighbor disappeared, replaced by someone colder, more alert.
With a press of a hidden switch, the room came alive.
Monitors lit up the walls. Maps, surveillance feeds, encrypted data—equipment no ordinary man would ever own. The apartment was no longer a home.
It was a base.
Agent Zero has returned to the field.
Across the hall, Mina folded laundry while her daughter stood on tiptoe, peeking through the peephole.
"I'm telling you," Haru said excitedly, "he has a secret identity!"
Mina laughed and shook her head. "You've been watching too many Animes."
Haru wasn't convinced. She raised her toy like a magnifying glass, eyes sparkling with determination.
"Detective Haru is on the case!"
That evening, Kaito sat at his desk, fingers moving quickly across his keyboard as radio signals scrolled across his screen.
Through the wall, he heard a muffled voice.
"He's definitely a superhero!"
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
Superhero… not quite.
The city changed at night.
Darkness swallowed the streets as Kaito slipped out through his window, his black coat blending into the shadows. In a narrow alley, masked robbers threatened a trembling shopkeeper.
The fight was silent.
Quick movements. Precise strikes.
Before the police sirens echoed in the distance, the robbers were unconscious—and Kaito was already gone.
The next morning, Haru sat on the floor near her door, eyes filled with tears.
"My toy…" she whispered.
Kaito froze.
A memory flashed through his mind—last night, returning from his mission, spotting a small toy lying beneath a bench.
Later that morning, Haru opened the door and gasped.
Her toy sat neatly in front of her.
Her face lit up instantly. "He is a superhero!"
In the hallway, Mina bowed slightly.
"Thank you for finding my daughter's toy."
Kaito waved it off casually. "Just what any neighbor would do."
Mina smiled—a soft, gentle smile—and for a brief moment, Kaito felt something unfamiliar stir in his chest.
As he walked away, he adjusted his glasses, hiding a small grin.
That night, Kaito sat alone at his desk, adjusting an earpiece.
"Remember, Agent Zero," a cold voice said through the device, "don't get attached."
Kaito stared at the dark screen.
Easier said than done.
A knock came at his door the next day.
Haru stood there, holding a piece of paper.
"You look lonely, mister," she said honestly.
She handed him the drawing.
It showed three stick figures—herself, her mother, and him—holding hands.
Kaito stared at it, unsure how to respond.
Later, sitting alone, he looked at the drawing again.
A small smile formed on his lips.
A real one.
"Thank you, Haru," he whispered.
Then his phone buzzed.
New mission alert.
He opened the file.
Target: Located in your building.
His hand tightened around the drawing, leaving a faint crease across it.
No… it can't be.
That night, he stood outside Mina's door, the mission file in one hand, the drawing in the other.
His fingers hovered over the doorknob.
Orders… or heart?
Slowly, he lowered his hand.
At dawn, Kaito walked through the quiet hallway.
He removed his earpiece and crushed it in his palm.
Once more, he glanced back at the door across the hall—at the place that had almost become home.
A soft smile crossed his face.
The building stood bathed in morning light as Kaito walked away down the empty street, hands in his pockets.
For the first time in his life…
He had something to protect.
The End