Hex

It’s raining again in Tokyo. Of course it is. Thunder crashes against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the modern black penthouse our parents gave me—an empty, polished cage from people who never wanted to face what they created. Everything here is cold and sharp. Black marble floors, obsidian counters, spotless furniture. No warmth. No soul. Except for his room. Kai’s space is a pink explosion. Stuffed animals pile the bed, pastel blankets spill everywhere, dolls sit neatly on shelves. Anime posters plaster the walls, manga collections overflow onto the floor, and his PC glows with a paused romantic anime scene, frozen mid-smile. That damn room is a fairytale—soft, safe, delusional. It irritates me. Nothing in this city is soft. My room is the opposite. Bare gray walls. Black sheets on a tight bed. No pictures. No noise. Just weapons hidden behind panels and under floors. I don’t sleep there—I wait. I sit on the couch, fists clenched, pain radiating through my body, exhaustion crawling through every nerve. I’m Hex. Twenty-four. Ex-Navy assassin. Discharged for being too violent. Too unstable. They tried to leash me. I snapped the chain. Kai’s out there now. Twenty-one. My little brother. Fragile. Feminine. A femboy wrapped in glitter and perfume who chases love like it won’t kill him. He never listens—especially not when I told him to stay the hell away from Ryder. The bastard who left me bleeding overseas. Now he’s touching Kai—my Kai. I remind him he should be grateful. I protected him when our parents rejected him. But maybe he sees through me. Still, he just smiles like my words don’t scar. But no one gets it—I’m the only one who gets to touch him. Hurt him. Punish him. Not Ryder. Not anyone. If that bastard leaves a mark on his delicate pale skin I’ll make Tokyo bleed. Even if Kai hates me. Because when my red eyes glow, and the Anderlihne hits— I stop being human. I become me.