Miya slung her bag over her shoulder and walked briskly through the narrow, neon-lit streets of Tokyo.
In the midst of the crowd, she hoped to be invisible. But the breath on her neck—
It shattered that hope.
She quickened her pace.
Every crack in the pavement, every reflection in a storefront window felt like a threat closing in on her.
And that message still burned at the edge of her mind:
“You have a new mission. Time is running out.”
Suddenly, she found herself in a dead-end alley.
When she turned around—he was there.
A man in a gray suit.
His face ordinary, but impossible to forget.
He wore sunglasses, despite the late hour.
“We believe our message reached you,” he said calmly, his voice cutting through the hum of Tokyo's night like a blade to her nerves.
“Tomorrow at 6 p.m., a private car will pick you up on Meiji Dori in Shibuya. Don’t be alarmed. This is just business.”
Miya narrowed her eyes and stepped back.
“Who said I agreed?” she asked, voice steady but tinged with suppressed fear.
The man lowered his sunglasses slightly, locking eyes with her.
His gaze was arctic.
“If you refuse... I’ll have to kill you. Maybe think it over,” he said, then turned and walked away as casually as if heading for his morning coffee.
Miya’s throat went dry.
She opened her mouth to say something—but he paused, glanced back, and added:
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“Oh, and don’t even think about going to the police. They can’t always protect you.”
That last line struck her like lightning.
She dropped her computer bag and fell to her knees.
Her heart thundered, her mind shattered into a thousand fragments.
What had she gotten herself into?
Whose war was this?
And more importantly—how would she survive it?
By the time Miya reached home, breathless, she didn’t waste a second.
She pulled out a small carry-on. She wouldn’t need much.
She had to leave this country—now.
She turned on her phone and checked the earliest flight.
Destination: Canada.
A new beginning.
A place to disappear.
She carefully packed the most critical parts of her computer.
Put on a hat and sunglasses, covering her face as much as possible.
Then, she called a cab.
During the ride, she reviewed her escape plan.
She had already withdrawn all her money from the bank.
She hadn’t told a soul at her workplace.
If this was a move by one of her company’s rivals—
Then her own company should have protected her.
But they hadn’t.
They had left her alone.
Now, she would work for no one but herself.
She would survive—for herself.
At the airport, two hours remained until her flight.
She checked in her luggage, passed through passport control, and headed to the gate.
Everything was moving faster than expected.
No lines.
No waiting passengers.
At first, she felt relieved.
But something gnawed at her from the inside.
She boarded the plane and sat down.
Took a deep breath.
Leaned her head back.
Her heart raced with the thought that she was this close to escaping.
But—
Something was off.
There had been no one at the passport desk.
No one at baggage drop.
The airport was too quiet.
Too empty.
Her instincts screamed.
She jumped to her feet, turned toward the plane’s entrance—
And she saw him.
He was there. Again.
In that moment, she realized the truth.
She was the only passenger on this flight.