"Why do your eyes whispers to mine?

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Ahana

"Why the hell am I nervous about this?" Ahana murmured, her fingers swiping across the hologram screen in front of her. Her black hairs were pulled up in a bun held by an emerald pin, while some stray tendrils framed her high cheekbones, contrasting beautifully against her pale skin and ocean eyes.

"Well, I mean, it is still your first job– under...unique circumstances but first job, nonetheless," the holographic screen in front of her was divided half in documents she swiped through, her blue eyes trained on every information he could gather. While the other half had pulled a screen, with Mihir on video call.

His charcoal eyes narrowed a bit, seeing the subtle clench of her jaw and the rhythmic tapping of the bench he could hear, "Ahana, relax," his voice softened, when her eyes met him to anyone they might look like composed and calm, but he could make out the subtle anxiety behind those ocean pools anyone could drown in, "Everything would be okay, you are fine, strong and if something did arise you could easily beat anyone's asses... and well we both know that,"

"I know," she said, her lips twitching into an amused smile. The documents screen vanished with a flick of her finger while she smoothed down her top, diverting her gaze from his before sighing, "I guess, I am just nervous because well you-know-who,"

"Voldemort?"

"This is so not a good moment for a Harry Potter reference," Ahana deadpanned, seeing the grin on his face– his eyes crinkling from the screen. Making his already handsome face alight with joy, "You know I am talking about this team captain, Kai Hiwatari, who I would probably meet in some seconds,"

"Come on, you have to admit it fits him somehow. He's intimidating, powerful, and probably broods in secret,"

"You've been spending too much time with Rehan," Ahana muttered, shaking her head, "I liked my best friend better when he was mature and calm. And for the record, I've already gotten an earful about how 'hot' Kai Hiwatari is from Rehan. Honestly, I think he's more obsessed with him than any of his fangirls."

Mihir chuckled shaking his head, his tousled hair falling on his forehead, "Sorry, sorry– I just couldn't help it when I know you would get all irritated," he sighed, before giving her a reassuring nod, "And well you do know, but I am telling you anyway, you know you can call me– or well any of us, anytime. If something weighs on your mind, you call us, it doesn't matter if it is noon or midnight,"

"I know," she whispered looking away for a second, her eyes lingering on all the trophies that had been placed in stands at Mr. Dickenson office– collected by different BBA members, "But I hope I wouldn't need to,"

"I hope so too,"

For some moments silence lingered before she straightened, shaking her head as if to dismiss the thought, she wanted to keep those thoughts to herself, but she knew he would be worried if he still felt that she was hiding something, "You know...I told myself I'd handle it. That I'd keep my focus where it needs to be. The job, Mr. Dickenson owes me my life and- I can't let him down, but I just know that the second they step into this room, it's going to hit me all over again. His name. His bloodline,"

"Ahana," his voice was gentle, "You know he is not him, don't confuse the bloodline with the person– you know better than anyone that how having a specific bloodline doesn't ensure the personality,"

She exhaled slowly, her fingers brushing against the hem of her white skirt while sat on the edge of the table, "I know he's not him," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "But that doesn't mean it's easy. The Hiwatari name... it's etched into every nightmare I've had since—" she stopped herself, the memories pressing too close.

Mihir's face softened on the holographic screen. "You don't have to finish that sentence," he said quietly, "but you do have to remember why you're doing this. Protecting the team. Keeping them safe. That's the mission. Your job, in return of... what you had asked for,"

Ahana nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. Her gaze shifted toward the corner of the room, where her neatly packed bag rested. Professionalism was always her armor—her carefully chosen attire to be honest. The navy blue high-neck top fit snugly against her figure, the skirt and stockings offered elegance, but also practicality, ensuring she could move swiftly if the situation demanded it.

It wasn't just about appearances; it was about control.

And she hated when anyone else was in control.

"I'll be fine," she said, her tone firmer now, saying more to believe in those words herself rather than convincing him, "I have to be,"

Mihir nodded, his eyes holding her gaze with a softness most would miss. It was the gaze of someone who knew how much the person he could see had endured, the gaze of someone he knew relied on him, trusted him more than anyone, "That's my girl. Now go knock them dead—figuratively, of course."

"Figuratively," Ahana repeated, allowing a small smile to break through her tension, "Thanks, Mihir,"

"Of course,"

The sound of footsteps reached her ears through the closed gates as she jumped off the table, brushing away the invisible lint from her navy-blue top. "They are coming, I will talk to you later, bye love ya',"

"Bye, love you too,"

This is a job. You are here to protect the team, repay a debt, not for him.

The doors creaked open, and the team walked in.

Tyson Granger was the first to enter, all energy and enthusiasm, "Whoa, look at this place! It's awesome!" his blue hair bobbed as he bounced toward the center of the room, already gesturing wildly as he spoke.

Max Tate followed close behind, his bright smile lighting up the room, his blonde hairs were tousled, some strands falling on his face, "This is indeed cool!"

Ray Kon entered next, his calm presence a stark contrast to Tyson's exuberance and Max cheerfulness. His ebony hairs were tied in a ponytail, highlighting his high cheekbones and defined features– that exudes calmness just like his aura. He offered a polite nod and a smile in Ahana's direction, his golden cat-like eyes sharp and observant.

Behind them was Kenny, clutching his laptop tightly to his chest like a shield as he trailed after the others, his small form though looking out of the group of the bladebreakers but– steps and demeanor emitting the fact that he in fact belonged there, muttering something under his breath about strategy files.

Ahana's gaze swept over them, her polite smile– a fake mask– she had mastered over the years, masking the tension coiled in her chest.

And then, he entered.

Kai Hiwatari, walked in with an air of quiet authority. His carmine eyes were sharp, piercing even, as they surveyed the room. His expression was unreadable molded into a cold mask he rarely let down, his posture calm yet resilient and still radiating indifference. He walked with the gait of someone who knew he just didn't control– but dominate.

Ahana felt a twinge of annoyance by that very authority, while her gaze drifted upon his sharp features– that defined jawline, sharp nose, lips that were pressed in a straight line, the clear span of his fair skin. His usual attire, casual and unassuming on anyone else, somehow emphasized the strength of his frame. The sleeveless top hinted at toned muscles, lean and precise. And those carmine eyes.

Those eyes...

For a second, the room blurred, the blabbering of Tyson was toned out and her breath hitched.

Those eyes there was something about them that refused to let her look away from them, was it the sharpness? The color? Or perhaps how they bore straight into her as if stripping her to her very essence?

No, there was none of that.

It was the quiet storm beneath those carmine pools, like a mix of cold calculation and– determination or perhaps pain? Pain that seemed to mirror her's to a terrifying extent. The way they held her eyes too, like they could delve deeper into her soul and bring back the words she had held back. Whatever it was– it made her uneasy– because that was not intimidating but...familiar.

Bullshit.

She knew she hadn't met Kai HIwatari in her whole life. Not even as much glanced at his photo on TV in the fear of getting lost in her thoughts– in her memories that were better left untouched. But now looking at those carmine pools– they seem to pull her in, like she had known them, felt them in another lifetime.They didn't just scrutinize her—they recognized her, or at least that's what it felt like.

Anything she thought didn't ease her nerves.

Because no matter how she tried to rationalize it, it didn't make sense. His gaze unsettled her but not how she thought it would, there was no hate or anger shimmering beneath her, nor the fear– the option she had considered for a brief second. It was a mix of familiarity and...comfort? She had to resist her body urge to flinch at that thought, comfort wasn't something she had associated with his bloodline, his last name.

And yet...

Those eyes called to her like a siren's call, like an heaven's gate, an enchantress's words– asking her to delve deeper, to unravel the stories and secrets that lay beneath them.

To rememb-

A sharp pain shot through her head, and she averted her gaze in the pretense of checking the notification on her tab. But no matter how much she tried to avert her gaze or mind. Her thoughts couldn't help but wander.

Why, despite everything she knew about the Hiwatari name, they didn't fill her with fear, hate. Anger– anything she had related with them—but something else entirely.

Something that felt impossible.

Something like a long-lost piece of her life.