The hum of soft jazz filled the dim office. Somewhere in the distance, a kettle hissed, spilling quiet steam into a cup already lined with sakura petals.
Mai didn't touch it.
He sat at his desk, fingers laced, eyes fixed on the tablet in front of him.
A still image. Grainy but sharp enough.
Keon.
Mid-step, caught laughing with Fuyu at the school gate. A perfectly timed photo. Natural. Casual.
Too perfect.
Nova stood across from him, arms behind her back.
"Pulled it from a third-party backchannel," she said. "Encrypted packet that wasn't part of our usual surveillance net."
Mai tapped the screen once.
"This didn't come from the Korei group," he murmured. "Too clean."
Nova nodded. "Sora's been acting strange."
Mai's brows lifted. "Has he?"
"After I intercepted him, he went underground. But lately… he's lingering near Keon again. I've traced no new sales, no leaks — but his habits changed."
She paused. "He's not tracking. He's watching."
Mai leaned back, the chair creaking softly.
"For guilt?"
"Possibly."
Mai smiled, but the corners of his mouth didn't rise. "Guilt makes people soft. But it also makes them desperate to fix things."
He stood, walked to the window, and pulled the curtains just an inch wider. The city blinked back at him — a field of lights and lies.
"Tell me," he said, "what would make a bottom-tier informant like Sora take interest in my nephew?"
Nova hesitated. "...Keon's getting harder to ignore. His name is showing up in whispers — online rumors, code-tagged forums. Not loud. Just... appearing."
Mai was silent.
Then he whispered, "The ripple."
Nova tilted her head.
"You drop a stone into still water," Mai said, "and the water doesn't scream. It whispers in circles. Expanding. Slowly. Quietly. Until someone notices the shape."
He turned around.
"We're past the splash. We're in the ripple."
---
Minutes later, the kettle had cooled.
Mai finally poured the tea, steady-handed.
"I want a file on everyone Sora has contacted in the past 72 hours. Everyone who's accessed his feed. Don't clean up yet. Just observe."
"And Keon?"
Mai sipped his tea.
A pause.
Then, for the first time in weeks, he set the cup down untouched.
"Keep him in the dark," he said. "For now."
Nova didn't move.
"But if even one shadow steps too close—" his tone sharpened, soft and lethal, "—erase it."
Nova nodded. "Understood."
She turned to leave.
But Mai added one last thing:
"If they know Keon's name… then they know mine."
He smiled faintly. "Which means they're not just poking the boy."
Nova stopped in the doorway.
"They're challenging the king."
---
Somewhere else.
A monitor lit up in a room full of static hum.
The same photo of Keon.
A small red dot blinked.
Then:
TRACKING: STABLE
INITIATE PHASE TWO?
A finger hovered over the "YES" prompt.
And pressed it.