The night air was thick, heavy with the scent of rain-soaked pavement and the distant aroma of street food from the vendors down the block. Neon lights flickered against puddles, casting distorted reflections of a city that never truly slept.

It was supposed to be a simple night.

A walk home after a long shift. A hand-in-hand stroll with your son, his tiny fingers curled around yours, his laughter a soft melody against the hum of the world around you.

You never expected it to end like this.

You never expected to see him again.

Shin was exhausted. You could see it in the way his steps dragged slightly, his usual boundless energy dimmed by the hour.

Still, he held tight to your hand, his small body leaning against your side as you walked.

"Mama," he mumbled. "Can I get taiyaki?"

You glanced down at him, smiling softly as you brushed a few strands of dark hair from his forehead. His little nose scrunched up as the cool night air nipped at his cheeks.

"Maybe next time, sweetheart," you murmured, squeezing his tiny hand. "It's late, and you need to get to bed."

Shin let out a dramatic sigh, tilting his head back. "But, Mamaaa," he whined, drawing out the last syllable as if it might change your mind. "What if the taiyaki man runs out tomorrow?"

You bit back a laugh, amused by his logic. "I think he'll make more, love. He's not going to run out forever."

"But what if he does?" Shin asked, eyes widening in mock horror. "What if I never get to eat taiyaki again? Ever?"

You chuckled, shaking your head as you adjusted the bag on your shoulder. "I highly doubt that, baby."

He puffed out his cheeks, still not satisfied with your answer. "If I was the taiyaki man, I'd never run out. I'd make taiyaki every day, and I'd eat it all the time!"

You grinned. "You'd get sick of it eventually."

Shin gasped, clutching his chest like you'd just said something offensive. "Never!" he declared, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

You stopped at a crosswalk, crouching slightly to ruffle his messy hair. "How about this? If you go to bed early and don't fight me in the morning, I'll get you taiyaki after school tomorrow. Deal?"

Shin perked up immediately, eyes shining with excitement. "Promise?"

You smiled and tapped your pinky against his. "Pinky promise."

He giggled, wrapping his little pinky around yours before pressing a sloppy kiss against your knuckles. "Okay! But you gotta get the kind with the extra red bean filling! That's the best one."

You laughed, standing back up as the light turned green. "Of course, only the best for my little prince."

Shin beamed, leaning his head against your arm as you both crossed the street. Within minutes, his energy finally began to fade again, his small body growing heavier against your side.

"Are we almost home, Mama?" he murmured sleepily.

"Almost, baby," you whispered, rubbing his back gently.

Shin hummed, his grip on your hand tightening. "Okay... but don't forget the taiyaki tomorrow, 'kay?"

"I won't forget," you assured him softly. "Now let's get you home, sleepyhead."

His only response was a small yawn as his steps slowed even further, his little fingers curled trustingly around yours.

You should have known something was wrong.

Maybe it was the eerie silence of the street, the way the usual background chatter of the city seemed too quiet.

Maybe it was the feeling in your gut, the familiar cold that slithered up your spine, the same feeling you had when you used to watch Mikey walk away, knowing he was heading straight into danger.

Or maybe it was the presence.

A presence you had tried so hard to forget.

A shadow that had loomed over your past, now standing before you once more.

Mikey.

He was there, just beyond the glow of a flickering streetlamp, half-hidden in the darkness like a specter pulled from your nightmares.

But he wasn't a ghost.

No, he was very real.

And he was looking right at you.

You couldn't move.

For the first time in years, you froze.

The man standing before you was not the boy you had once loved.

Manjiro Sano had always been beautiful, in a way that felt almost unnatural—effortless. But now, there was something sharper about him, something haunting.

His platinum hair, now slightly longer, was tousled by the wind, a stark contrast to the black suit that clung to his frame. The soft edges of his youth were gone, replaced with hard lines, sharp angles.

And his eyes—

God, his eyes.

Black, endless, empty.

They weren't the same ones that used to look at you with warmth, with mischief, with something dangerously close to love.

These eyes were hollow. Cold. Hungry.

And they were locked onto you like a predator that had finally found its long-lost prey.

"Mama?"

Shin's voice snapped you out of it.

You blinked, pulse roaring in your ears as reality crashed back into you. Your son was still standing beside you, still gripping your hand, still watching as the stranger before you took a single step closer.

Mikey's gaze flickered downward.

To him.

To the small boy standing at your side.

The boy with dark eyes.

The boy who looked so much like him.

The silence was unbearable.

Mikey didn't speak.

He didn't have to.

You saw it, the exact moment realization struck.

His body went impossibly still, his expression unreadable, but his fingers twitched at his sides, his breath just barely hitching.

"He's mine."

It wasn't a question.

It was a statement.

A fact.

You felt Shin shift beside you, felt his tiny fingers curl a little tighter around your own as his wide eyes flickered between you and the unfamiliar man before him.

"Mama... who is that?"

Your heart cracked.

You hadn't prepared for this.

You had spent five years making sure that Shin never had to meet this world, never had to know the man who had once loved you and destroyed himself in the same breath.

But now?

Now he was standing right in front of you, and there was no running.

Not this time.

"You ran from me."

Mikey's voice was quiet. Too quiet.

There was no anger in it. No rage.

But that was what scared you the most.

Because the Mikey you knew would have demanded answers. He would have yelled, would have broken something, would have tried to pull you back into his orbit like gravity itself.

This Mikey?

This Mikey was calculating.

His empty black eyes traced every inch of your face, memorizing.

Studying.

"You had my son... and you never told me."

Shin shifted uncomfortably, pressing closer against your leg, sensing the tension but not understanding it.

You swallowed hard. "Mikey—"

"Manjiro."

The correction was sharp.

A warning.

The boy you had once loved, the one who had laughed with you, who had kissed you with a gentleness that never matched his reputation, was gone.

There was only Bonten's leader now.

And he was looking at you like a man who had just found something he refused to lose again.

"Did you think I wouldn't find you?"

You had.

You really had.

You had spent years keeping your head down, living in a quiet part of the city where no one whispered about Tokyo's criminal empire, where Bonten's reach didn't quite extend.

But you should have known better.

Ghosts always found their way home.

And Mikey?

He had always found his way back to you.

Shin was falling asleep.

The exhaustion of the night had finally caught up to him, his small body leaning fully against you, his breaths deep and even.

He trusted you.

He trusted you to keep him safe.

"We should go." Your voice was steadier than you expected.

Mikey didn't move.

His gaze flickered down to Shin once more, lingering, memorizing.

Then, slowly, deliberately, he stepped forward.

Your pulse spiked, but you held your ground.

Mikey stopped just in front of you, close enough that you could smell the faint hint of cigarette smoke and something dangerously familiar beneath it.

His voice dropped to something softer. Something dark.

"I'm not letting you leave again."

You sucked in a breath. "Mikey—"

His hand moved before you could react.

Not to grab you.

Not to hurt you.

But to gently brush a strand of hair from Shin's forehead.

Your stomach dropped.

Because you knew that look.

You had seen it before, when Mikey set his sights on something, when he decided that something belonged to him.

And as his eyes met yours once more, something final settled between you.

Something unavoidable.

"You can run all you want."

A ghost of a smirk flickered across his lips.

"But you can't hide from me anymore."

And in that moment, you knew—

You had just lost the war you didn't even know had begun.

ideas for the next chapter?