This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange - Chapter 794 - 793: Coffee With a Side of Lies (2)

Chapter 794: Chapter 794: Chapter 793: Coffee With a Side of Lies (2)

Airalai tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture was so familiar it made something in his ribs ache. “I didn’t come to make things harder,” she said. “I came to—if you’ll let me—make them right.”

Kain kept his face immobile. Internally, a snowstorm. ’If I didn’t know, I would believe you.’ He realized that was the most infuriating part: if he didn’t already have proof, he would be eaten alive by this moment. The cadence of her voice, the warmth in her eyes, the precise way she remembered the old details—all of it was flawless. Seamless.

But her perfect mask just made him feel colder.

He decided to test to see if her mask truly was without cracks. “Do you remember the director, your uncle? How ’bout Bridge? Jasper and Jasmine were just toddlers when you left so they may not even remember you…”

Her expression softened further. “Of course. My uncle had a habit of pretending indifference to the stories I’d tell you guys before bed, but his ears were always tuned in.”

’Accurate,’ Kain admitted to himself reluctantly.

“And Bridge?” he asked.

A small laugh escaped her. “He once tried to teach Jasper and Jasmine ’stealth’ by having them hide under the tables while he sneaked around pretending to be the enemy. They giggled so loudly that my uncle found them within seconds.”

Kain fought a smile, lost, and let it flicker and die.

They both took a breath at the same time and looked anywhere but each other for a heartbeat. The weight of the years pressed close. In the corner, a student muttered at a stack of textbooks like they’d personally wronged him, breaking the silence.

Airalai picked up her coffee and held it with both hands. Since she had zero intention of drinking, she used it purely to warm her hands…the only external sign of any anxiety she let out. “I know I can’t ask for immediate trust,” she said. “But I would like to earn it.”

’You will not be earning anything with me,’

He took a breath and felt the crisp, clinical part of his mind—his battlefield mind—resume control. “If I introduce you to the others,” he said carefully, “I need to be sure of the story I’m endorsing.”

She met his gaze without flinching. “Then ask me anything.”

’Oh, I will’, he thought. ’Questions like: ’How many floors does your organization’s HQ have?’ and ’Which leader do you actually report to?’ Also: ’What exactly do you think I am to you—target or brother?’’ Of course, he did not ask any of those out loud.

“Where have you been living these last three years?” he asked instead.

“With the merchants,” she said smoothly. “In the river cities. Then near the coast. They knew a doctor; he helped with some… things.”

’Ah yes. ’Some things.’ What a benign way to say describe the horrifying human experiments that the people your ’merchant’ family picked up, underwent.’

“What made you come now?”

“You,” she said simply. “Seeing you fight. Realizing you were still—you. And that I had to stop pretending I was a ghost.”

’You came because someone wrote ’Acquire: Kain’ on your mission docket, right?’

Something tightened behind his sternum. The hurt didn’t announce itself; it simply expanded, inch by inch, like ice claiming a pond. She was good. She was very, very good. The little catches in her voice, the places she didn’t overstate, the things she remembered and the things she carefully left blurred—it all made a story any sane person would believe.

But he was not a sane person where this was concerned. He had evidence. He had names. He had dates. He had the shape of a shadow organization that thought people were chess pieces and had even once kidnapped his other sister Cherry.

“Airalai,” he said finally, softly. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

Her eyes shone. She set her cup down, shoulders loosening a fraction. “Thank you.”

“But,” he added, and felt the temperature in himself drop another degree, “I can’t bring you to the family yet.”

The relief in her face faltered. She hid it well—it was there and gone in a blink—but he saw it anyway. “I understand,” she said. “I’ll wait. I’m staying in Dark Moon for a while.”

’Of course you are.’

They sat in the quiet of clinking cups and low conversation. The barista slid a plate of complimentary biscotti onto the table with familiarity, a customary gesture for them whenever they saw their customers experiencing ’heartbreak’.

Kain broke one in half. “Tell me about your new name,” he said. “You must have used one.”

Confident that she must have used one when going on missions. Maybe he could use it to find out more of her movements over the years…

She took a careful bite of the cookie, “Lara,” she said after a moment. “They called me Lara.”

’Similar to ’Aira-lai.’ Creative. Points for efficiency.’

“What did you do? For work.”

“Accounting,” she lied without blinking.

Kain coughed into his fist to cover the strangled noise his soul made. Accounting. Inventory. Right. Perfect cover for tracking numbers, movements…or children. Like living inventory in a ledger, each one written down, each one ’accounted’ for.

Her gaze searched his face, gentle, patient. “If there’s anything you want me to do to prove myself, I’ll do it,” she said. “Whatever you need. I don’t want to make your life harder.”

’Then you probably shouldn’t have joined a group that kidnaps and experiments on people,’ he thought, and hated—hated—how part of him still warmed to the sound of her voice.

He pushed the plate toward her. “Eat,” he said. “You’re still too thin.”

For the first time, the smile she gave him wasn’t practiced; it was old, easy. “Yes, Mom,” she teased softly.

He snorted before he could stop himself. “Bridge is Mom,” he corrected. “I’m the stern uncle.”

They let the humor sit between them for a minute, letting some pressure bleed out.

Finally, he said, “If you’re staying nearby, send me the address.”

“I will,” she said. “And Kain?”

He met her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “For everything.”

The words should have cracked something open. Instead, they glazed over the surface of the ice. He nodded once. “Me too,” he said—because the words cost him nothing and kept the peace.

Kain finished his coffee and stood. “I have to get home,” he said. “The director worries.”

“I remember,” she answered quietly.

He hesitated.

“I’ll be in touch,” he said at last.

She nodded. “I’ll be waiting.”

He left first. As the bell over the door chimed, he felt her gaze on his back, warm as a hand and cold as a blade. He didn’t look back—not because he didn’t want to, but because he did, and wanting made him furious.

Out on the street, Dark Moon City moved with end-of-day momentum. Kain drew in a breath that didn’t quite fill his lungs and let it out slowly. Somewhere behind him, the barista whispered to a coworker, “That looked like a breakup.”

“Felt more like a reunion,” the coworker said.

Neither of them were quite right…or wrong.

Kain turned his steps toward home, heart ironed flat. If he hadn’t known who Airalai really was, he would have believed every word. He would have taken her hand and brought her to the orphanage and handed her back to the life she’d abandoned.

Instead, he walked faster away.