Crow froze, feeling the chill at the back of his neck as the evening breeze crept in.

Hinata’s posture was tense, like a wild animal ready to strike.

“Damn mouth! I blurted it for real!” 

In a blur, his wrist twisted behind him, his leg swept out, and he crashed face-first to the floor with a muffled grunt.

Before he could speak, a sharp pressure pinned him down—her knee pressing into his spine. Something cold touched his neck—a screwdriver she quickly snatched from an open toolbox nearby.

“How did he know my name?” her mind hissed. “And what in the goddamned hell is this moron saying?”

"Who are you?" 

Her grip tightened, the flat point of the screwdriver pressing harder into his skin. She yanked his man-bun back with spite. "And who sent you?"

Crow groaned as he struggled.

She looked the part. But her voice, deep and lethal, wasn't something he expected. 

“Definitely her. And scarier!”

“W… Wait—!” he wheezed.

Hinata didn’t budge.

Crow stretched his free hand toward the workbench. A water bottle sat there, beneath the basement lights.

“W… Water…” he rasped. “Drink…”

She said nothing—just stared.

Her throat burned. She hadn’t had water for hours, her lungs were choked with dust and heat, and exhaustion weighed heavily behind her eyes.

She loosened her grip slowly and lifted her knee, backing off one step at a time while keeping her eyes on him. 

As soon as Hinata gripped the bottle, she drank in quick, desperate gulps.  She set the bottle down and wiped her lips with her sleeve, saying nothing.

Crow sat up, wincing as he stretched.

“Good?”

No reply. She held her weapon steadily between them, keeping her distance safe.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?” he assured her.

He noticed mud streaks on her pants, a torn sleeve, dried blood crusted on scraped knuckles, and dust clinging to the tips of her hair like ash. She looked like she had clawed out of hell and wasn’t sure where else to go.

“You can stay here for a while… if you want,” he offered. “I don’t mind. Looks like it got rough out there.”

A long pause.

“Keep stalling if you want to,” she repeated, voice still indifferent. “I’m not asking again.”

Crow sighed, meeting her glare.

“Crow Asterson,” he said. “And you’re in my basement.”

— • —

Hinata didn’t lower the tool, but her shoulders eased with a bit of embarrassment.

“Why are you doing this?” she questioned him, keeping her voice sharp. “What’s your deal?”

Crow blinked, half-lidded. “Uh… Who, why, what…. is this an interview or something?”

Hinata’s glare sharpened. “Talk.”

“Okay, okay—maybe I’ve got a soft spot for strays with a resting death-face?”

A weak smirk formed briefly on his lips. One second. Two. It met a blank stare.

“Say that again,” she demanded.

Crow winced. “Ugh...Not the right words. Sorry.” He stepped back. “I just thought you needed a break. That’s all.”

Hinata remained still, nerves twitching.

“And also…,” Crow added, a finger tapping on his knuckles. “We need to patch that up.”

She lifted her hands. Her fists were bloodstained, knuckles aching as the adrenaline wore off.

“Tch. Just scratches,” she muttered, then added, "I should go."

Crow’s brows furrowed. Despite his reluctance, the words tumbled out.

“Go where? You might find worse trouble out there. At least here... you can breathe a little easier.”

Hinata’s jaw tightened. His words struck deeper than expected.

She’d always been fine alone. Charity grated on her pride. Trust felt dangerous.

She glanced at him again, still seated where she had him pinned earlier, stubbornly offering peace. However, her instincts kicked her hard just as her guard faltered.

But Crow’s persistence gnawed at her.

"Uh... Okay, how about this?" Crow called out. "I got you out of that mess, right? So, in return, stay just for tonight. One-to-one. Deal?"

She scoffed inwardly.

“How was that even a deal?”

"Thanks. But I don’t trust you," she answered bluntly.

She dropped the screwdriver, clattering on the floor as she strode toward the exit.

Crow fell silent.

But he wasn’t done. Not yet.

He saw this conflict hundreds of times in the past.

Different stories, different stakes, but only one truth.

That when reason fails—strength respects strength.

He smirked, deliberately dropping his voice by an octave.

“Kanno Hinata.”

She froze. The way he said her name irked her. She glanced at him, waiting to shut down another dumb offer.

“I challenge you, hand-to-hand,” Crow said as he stood up, stretching his neck.

Hinata’s eyes lit up. Not in excitement, but the prospect of being challenged so casually struck her pride.

“Take that back and keep your dignity intact.”

Crow met her eyes with the same ferocity.

“Screw that. If I win, you’ll stay.”

Hinata turned around with a scoff. “Stop. You don’t know wh—”

A light touch grazed her shoulder. She jerked, springing out of the basement into the open yard.

“He reached me from that distance? He’s fast.”

Crow followed her outside. She felt a strange aura engulf him as he began skipping on his feet. She raised her guard, not with fear but with a fighter’s calculated caution.

“Can you feel it?” he said, taking a deep breath as he shifted into a stance. “Let’s get this over with, Kanno Hinata.”

That was the last straw. Crow braced as if possessed by a nine-tailed demon fox. Hinata posed like black lightning surged in her veins.

Hinata smirked, fully locked on. "Last warning. Take it or leave it."

Crow grinned back, eyes focused. "Nah. I'd win."

His final gambit.

— • —

It lasted fifteen seconds.

Crow lay flat on the ground like a dog cooling itself in the middle of summer, beaten black and blue.

After all, the nine-tailed fox boy was defeated by his friend.

Hinata stared at him as he mumbled words, but his face was too swollen to be audible.

“Damn. I overdid it,” she thought. "Now, what to do..."

Crow kept murmuring gibberish until he finally passed out.

She sighed.

“He just died. Crap.”