7:30 AM – Blackwood Agency Safehouse
The bitter aroma of overbrewed coffee filled the cramped surveillance room as Hana Shiraishi stared at the array of photos pinned to the corkboard. Each one showed the same lanky teenager in various states of dishevelment—slumped asleep at his desk, sharing lunch with stray cats, squinting at a vending machine like it had personally offended him.
"This is your high-priority target?" Hana flicked a fingernail against Ren Tanaka's drowsy face in the closest photo. "The kid can barely stay awake through homeroom."
Across the table, Director Kurosawa didn't look up from his tablet. "Tell me, Agent Shiraishi—what do you know about sleeper dragons?"
Hana crossed her arms. "Mythical creatures that nap for centuries before burning down villages."
"Precisely." Kurosawa slid a black dossier across the table. The silver embossing gleamed under the fluorescent lights:
PROJECT HIBERNATION - CLASSIFIED EYES ONLY
Inside, Hana found security stills from yesterday's attack—Ren standing calmly amidst the chaos, his lips moving as armed mercenaries retreated. The timestamp read 14:03:47.
"That's impossible," she breathed. "He didn't even—"
"Raise his voice? Lift a finger?" Kurosawa's smile didn't reach his eyes. "The Tanaka heir hasn't needed to. Not yet." He tapped the final photo—Ren adjusting his glasses with blood-speckled fingers. "Our behavioral analysts estimate he processed the entire attack scenario in under eight seconds. Predicted every move."
Hana's stomach twisted. "You want me to eliminate a strategic genius because he's good at math?"
"We want you to determine if he'll become the most dangerous man in Japan." Kurosawa leaned forward. "Get close. Earn his trust. And if the dragon shows signs of waking..."
The unfinished threat hung between them.
12:17 PM – Elite Heights Academy Cafeteria
Ren Tanaka was mid-yawn when the first breadcrumb fell into place.
"—Masamoto executives resigning en masse—"
"—stock prices collapsing—"
"—word is the Tanakas called in their markers—"
He pretended not to notice Hana's calculated approach, the way her hips swayed just slightly too much for a natural gait. Trained movement. Professional.
"This seat taken?" Her tray clattered onto the table.
Ren blinked sleepily. "You hold your chopsticks like a sniper rifle."
Hana's fingers twitched. Got you.
The fire alarm chose that moment to shriek.
12:23 PM – Chemistry Wing Hallway
Smoke poured from Lab 3 as students stampeded. Hana reached for Ren's arm—
—and found her wrist trapped in a vice grip, his breath warm against her ear.
"Three hostiles west stairwell," Ren murmured. "One overwatch on the roof. Two more flanking." His thumb pressed into her pulse point. "Blackwood Agency or freelance?"
Hana's blood turned to ice. How does he know—
A knife flashed. She reacted on muscle memory—wristlock, disarming twist, elbow to the trachea. The attacker crumpled.
Ren sighed. "Definitely Blackwood. Only your manuals teach that takedown."
Footsteps pounded closer. Hana reached for her concealed pistol—
—just as Ren stepped into the attack.
12:31 PM – Abandoned Music Room
The last mercenary groaned at Ren's feet, his arm bent the wrong way. Ren adjusted his glasses, the lenses reflecting the man's pain-glazed eyes.
"Tell Masamoto-san," he said softly, "next time I'll collapse more than his stock portfolio."
Hana's pistol wavered between Ren and the injured man.
Ren turned, blood streaking his cheek like war paint. "Going to shoot me, Hana?"
Her finger tightened on the trigger—
—then relaxed.
"You've got blood..." She swiped her thumb across his cheekbone. "Sir."
Ren's smile was a blade wrapped in silk.
9:00 PM – Tanaka Estate
The old man contemplated the shogi board as his aide delivered the report.
"The heir dispatched six operatives. The Blackwood agent observed but didn't interfere."
Tanaka Hiroshi moved a silver general. "Send Agent Shiraishi white spider lilies."
His aide froze. The death flower.
"With a note." The old man captured a pawn. "'The board accepts all players.'"
11:59 PM – Hana's Apartment
The doorbell rang.
Hana approached weapon-first—
—to find a single spider lily in a black vase. Beneath it, a silver shogi piece.
Her phone lit up with an encrypted message:
[Unknown]: Ask Kurosawa about Operation White Petal.
[Unknown]: Then decide—hunter or queen?
The final message appeared as she reached for the flower:
[Ren]: Sweet dreams, little wolf.
The petals crumbled to ash in her grip.