Kai didn't sleep.
Not because he couldn't—but because every time he closed his eyes, his mind kept running ahead of him, replaying choices, measuring distance, testing outcomes. The kind of thinking that didn't let you rest, only calculate.
Morning came quietly.
He sat at the small table in the apartment, elbows resting on the surface, fingers wrapped around a mug that had gone cold long before he touched it. Across from him, a cracked phone lay face-up. No new messages. No missed calls. That was worse than noise.
A knock came—short, deliberate.
Kai didn't reach for anything. He stood, walked to the door, and opened it halfway.
"Relax," the man outside said. "If I was here to cause trouble, I wouldn't knock."
Leo stepped inside without waiting for permission.
Leo wasn't tall or intimidating. He didn't need to be. He had the kind of calm that came from knowing where not to stand when things went wrong. He dropped a paper bag on the table and sat.
"You look terrible," Leo added. "That's how I know you're thinking too much."
Kai finally spoke. "You weren't followed?"
Leo shook his head. "I wouldn't come if I was."
Silence filled the room again, heavier now that it had a witness.
Leo leaned back, studying Kai. "So. You crossed a line."
"I didn't plan to."
"No one ever does."
Kai's jaw tightened. "They came first."
Leo didn't argue that. He opened the bag, pulled out a wrapped sandwich, and slid it across the table. Kai didn't touch it.
"You know what people are saying?" Leo continued. "That you didn't just defend yourself. That you sent a message."
"That's not what I wanted."
"But it's what happened."
Kai finally sat. "Then tell me what comes next."
Leo smiled faintly, but there was no humor in it. "That depends on whether you keep reacting… or start choosing."
Kai met his eyes. "I'm listening."
Leo leaned forward now. "What happened yesterday put you on a list. Not a big one, but not a small one either. The kind where people don't rush—but they don't forget."
"And the people I ran into?"
"They weren't the decision-makers," Leo said. "They were testers."
Kai exhaled slowly. That confirmed what he already suspected.
"So," Leo continued, "if you keep running into situations, you'll stay a rumor. Dangerous, unpredictable, temporary. But if you take control—make one clear move—you stop being a question."
"And become what?" Kai asked.
"A problem," Leo replied. "Problems get respect. Or they get erased."
Kai looked down at the table. "You wouldn't be here if you thought I was getting erased."
"No," Leo admitted. "I wouldn't."
Another pause.
Kai finally took the sandwich, unwrapped it, but still didn't eat. "Who's pulling the strings?"
Leo hesitated. Just a beat too long.
"That pause tells me enough," Kai said.
Leo sighed. "You don't want names yet."
"I want direction."
"You want speed," Leo corrected. "And speed is how people make mistakes."
Kai's voice stayed level. "I don't plan to."
Leo studied him carefully. "That's what worries me. You don't sound angry. You sound focused."
"I am."
"That kind of focus scares the wrong people."
"Good," Kai said. "Then they'll stop underestimating me."
Leo leaned back again, nodding slowly. "Alright. Then here's what you do. You don't confront anyone yet. You don't chase. You don't threaten. You let them come to you—but on your terms."
"And how do I do that?"
Leo reached into his jacket and placed a folded card on the table. "You show up. You listen. You don't speak more than you need to."
Kai unfolded it. No name. Just a time and a place.
"This isn't a trap?" Kai asked.
"Everything is," Leo replied. "But this one is survivable."
Kai looked up. "Why help me?"
Leo met his gaze evenly. "Because I've seen what happens when someone like you doesn't get guidance early. They burn out. Or they disappear."
"And you don't want either."
"I want options," Leo said. "For both of us."
Kai stood, slipped the card into his pocket. "If this goes bad—"
Leo raised a hand. "If it goes bad, you don't know me. And I don't know you."
"That was already true."
Leo smiled faintly. "Good. Then we're aligned."
He stood and moved toward the door, pausing once more. "Eat something. Clear your head. This isn't a sprint."
Kai didn't answer.
After Leo left, the room felt smaller. Not emptier—sharper. Like everything had shifted just enough to matter.
Kai finally took a bite of the sandwich.
Then he picked up his phone and typed a single note.
Choose. Don't react.
He locked the screen and leaned back.
Whatever came next, it wouldn't be accidental.