The noble's estate glowed like a jewel against the night sky.
Rika crouched along the ridge of the tiled roof, black gloves pressed against cold ceramic, eyes scanning the courtyard below. Lanternlight pooled in golden circles between marble statues and trimmed hedges. Guards patrolled in lazy patterns, rich men never believed they had real enemies.
They were wrong.
"Third rotation coming up," a voice murmured beside her.
Rika didn't look over. She didn't need to. She knew that voice... smooth, amused, always just shy of mocking. Selene lay flat against the rooftop tiles a few feet away, silver hair braided tight against her back, crossbow resting easy in her hands.
"You hesitating?" Selene asked.
"No."
A beat of silence.
"You're quieter than usual."
Rika shifted, rising into a crouch as the guards passed beneath them. "Focus on the windows."
Selene hummed softly. "Deflecting. That's cute."
Rika shot her a look, then leapt.
She dropped from roof to balcony in a soundless glide, catching the railing and pulling herself over with ease. The window had already been unlatched earlier that evening, courtesy of another guild member posing as a servant. Rika slipped inside like a shadow.
The study smelled of parchment and old arrogance.
The target sat inside a glass case atop the central desk: a crystalline relic pulsing faintly blue, the kind of artifact nobles hoarded simply because they could.
Rika disabled the simple alarm sigil etched beneath the desk with two quick flicks of her fingers. The glass lifted without a sound.
She wrapped the relic in black cloth.
Mission complete.
They were halfway across the rooftops when Selene spoke again.
"You're still thinking about them."
Rika didn't answer.
Selene vaulted a gap and landed beside her effortlessly. "The little adventuring party. The one you've been babysitting."
"I wasn't babysitting."
Selene's lips twitched. "Sure."
They slowed once they reached the outer district, boots hitting packed earth instead of tile.
"You're still hung up on them," Selene said more plainly now.
Rika's jaw tightened. "It doesn't matter."
"It matters to you."
Silence stretched between them, thick as fog.
Rika exhaled through her nose. "…Yeah."
Selene arched a brow. "That's new."
Rika shot her a warning look, but Selene continued anyway.
"You've run with what, ten guilds now? Twenty? You never stay. You never look back." She studied Rika carefully. "Getting attached isn't like you."
Rika adjusted the relic at her belt. "I know."
"You know how dangerous it is."
"I know."
Selene stopped walking. "Then what's different?"
Rika paused too.
The night felt heavier suddenly.
"For a moment…" she began, voice quieter than the wind. "For a moment, I felt like I belonged."
Selene's expression didn't change.
"Like maybe," Rika continued, eyes distant now, "even if it wasn't real… even if it couldn't last… I could've had something normal."
Selene tilted her head. "They don't even know who you really are."
Rika gave a humorless laugh. "I barely know who I really am."
The words sat between them.
Selene's voice softened, not kind, but not cruel either. "You were never going to stay."
"I know."
"You were never going to tell them."
Rika hesitated.
"…I wanted to."
Selene watched her carefully.
"I wanted to tell them everything," Rika admitted. "But this is how it has to be."
Selene held her gaze another moment, then turned and resumed walking.
"Just don't let it get you killed," she said.
Rika followed.
The thieves' guild camp was hidden deep in the woods beyond the city's eastern wall. Not the romantic kind of camp, not the storybook sort with warm songs and laughter that carried through trees.
This one smelled of smoke and damp canvas.
Voices murmured low and transactional. No one laughed without purpose. No one relaxed fully. Weapons were kept within arm's reach even while eating.
Rika handed over the relic to the guildmaster without ceremony. He inspected it, nodded once, and dismissed her with a flick of his wrist.
No praise.
No celebration.
Just survival.
She moved toward the firepit where dinner was being ladled into wooden bowls.
"Late again," one of the men grunted as he shoved a bowl into her hands.
The contents sloshed, thin broth, scraps of meat too tough to chew comfortably, wilted greens floating like an afterthought.
Eat or don't eat.
No one would save you a portion.
Rika sat on one of the outer logs near the fire. The flames cracked and spat, sending sparks into the dark sky.
She stared into her bowl.
Across the camp, guild members talked in hushed tones about coin splits, next contracts, potential betrayals. Every laugh sounded sharp. Every smile edged.
Her mind drifted.
Another fire.
A different one.
Kaito kneeling beside it, sleeves rolled up, brow furrowed in concentration as he stirred a pot twice as large as this one. Complaining about ingredients but always somehow making it taste good anyway.
"Eat more," he'd insist, shoving extra portions toward the others. "We've got a long road tomorrow."
And they'd laugh.
They'd argue over seasoning. How he'd make it too spicy.
They'd sit too close to the fire and complain about smoke in their eyes. How Nanami's glasses fogged up.
No one guarded their bowl.
No one counted bites.
Rika swallowed.
The broth here tasted like nothing.
Around this campfire, she felt like a ghost wearing someone else's name.
She was supposed to belong here.
This was her world.
No attachments.
And yet....
She felt more like an outsider here than she ever had with them.
A murmur of laughter rose from the other side of the guild's fire.
It didn't reach her.
Rika took another bite, chewing mechanically.
Too dangerous.
That's what this was.
Too dangerous for them.
They didn't know the enemies she carried.
The debts.
The blood.
They couldn't handle everything that came with her.
She closed her eyes briefly.
It's better this way.
Better they think she left for coin.
Better they think she was selfish.
Better they never know the truth.
The fire cracked loudly, making her flinch almost imperceptibly.
Across another stretch of forest miles away, she imagined a different fire burning tonight.
She wondered if they were laughing.
If Kaito was cooking.
If anyone noticed her absence in the quiet moments between jokes.
Rika stared into the flames until they blurred.
It's too dangerous for you to be their friend.
She repeated it like a mantra.
Too dangerous.
Too dangerous.
Too.....
The thought fractured, just for a second.
Because for one fleeting, foolish moment…
She wished it wasn't.
And that was more dangerous than anything.