The daughter pulled her mother closer, a protective, tender gesture that should have been the closing shot of a Peabody-winning segment. But the silence was punctured not by a sob, but by a sharp, jagged burst of laughter from Kira.

  ?The mother and daughter froze, their faces blooming with a sudden, wounded confusion. Kevin didn’t wait for the fallout. He gave a stiff, formal bow, a silent apology for the intrusion, and steered Kira away by the elbow, his grip firm as he hurried them out of the women’s path.

  ?Once they were a block away, the professional calm snapped. Kevin’s face was a mask of disbelief. "Have you completely lost your mind? You just ruined the channel’s entire impression. We had the shot, Kira. We had the soul of the story, and you laughed in their faces."

  ?"Getting to know her daughter’s mind," Kira wheezed, her laughter trailing off into a smirk that failed to reach her eyes. "It’s just... it’s so funny."

  ?"What is so funny?" Kevin stopped in his tracks, the heavy camera rig shifting on his shoulder with a metallic groan. "I thought you were maturing. When you showed some actual heart to that boy earlier, I thought you’d finally found a soul. Now I think you just don’t have emotions at all."

  ?Kira leaned against a soot-stained brick wall, watching him with an amused glint. "Are you that angry? Cool. It’s really funny, Kevin."

  ?"Tell me what is so funny," he demanded, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous octave.

  ?"What she said! She ‘realized how her daughter was feeling.’ She ‘saw her mind.’" Kira started laughing again, a hollow, rhythmic sound that echoed off the narrow alleyway. "My own mother doesn’t even know what my favorite dish is. Personally? I don’t even know what my favorite dish is. We order, we eat, we talk. We’re happy because we’re together, not because we’ve performed some psychic surgery on each other’s brains."

  ?She shook her head, wiping a stray tear of mirth from her cheek. "Knowing a mind? It’s a joke. Everyone is a psychiatrist nowadays. We don't need to read people; we just need to exist near them. That’s the only peace there is. But they want to turn it into a Greek tragedy."

  ?Kevin looked at her for a long time. The anger in his eyes faded, replaced by something more complex, a clinical, quiet observation.

  ?"Kira," he said softly, "I don't want to hurt you. I could laugh with you right now. I could join in, and we’d be closer for it. We’d have this little bond, this 'us against the world' vibe." He stepped closer, his gaze steady, refusing to let her look away. "But I’m not doing it. Something is stopping me."

  ?He tilted his head, searching her face as if reading the fine print of her expression. "I know if I laugh, you’ll enjoy the moment. You’ll feel validated. So tell me... do you still think people can’t feel others? Do you really think you’re that easy to read? Or are you just terrified that if someone actually did see your mind, you wouldn't like what they found?"

  The rain descended without warning, a sudden, heavy curtain that turned the pavement into a dark mirror. Kevin moved with practiced efficiency, fishing a collapsible umbrella from his gear bag and snapping it open. He shifted his stance, wordlessly tilting the canopy to shield Kira from the downpour.

  ?They stood in a tense, ringing silence until a surge in the street shattered it. A restless crowd suddenly swelled, bottlenecking the sidewalk into a claustrophobic crush of damp coats and frantic energy. In the chaos, a woman lunged past, her shoulder slamming into Kevin with enough force to pin him against a brick wall. The umbrella slipped from his grip, clattering into the gutter.

  ?Kira reacted instinctively, grabbing his arm and hauling him toward a recessed doorway to keep them from being trampled by the mob.

  ?"What is this about?" Kevin asked, breathless, peering over the heads of the crowd as he adjusted his heavy gear.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  ?A sleek, obsidian-black sedan pulled to a smooth halt near the cafe. The door opened, and Hana Rosse stepped out into the rain. Two men immediately flanked her, their large black umbrellas creating a portable sanctuary. She was striking in a crimson suit, sharp, tailored, yet deceptively simple.

  ?A chorus of shrieks erupted as a pack of girls swarmed her, thrusting phones and notebooks forward. A thin line of police officers struggled to maintain a pocket of calm around her, but the rear of the crowd was a chaotic sea of bodies pushing and shoving for a glimpse of the icon.

  ?"We should have stayed inside," Kevin muttered, shielding his lens from the spray.

  ?A rhythmic tapping on glass drew their attention. Through the cafe’s blurred window, the boy they had met earlier was gesturing to them. He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for them to stay quiet, then pointed toward the alley. I’ll open the back door, his silent movements said.

  ?Kevin gave a quick thumbs-up, and they slipped through the shadows of the alleyway, entering the kitchen just as the boy latched the door behind them.

  ?"Thanks, kid. You saved our equipment," Kevin said, patting the boy’s shoulder.

  ?The boy didn't look up. He simply returned to his corner seat, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "I didn't do it for you," he said softly. "I did it for her."

  ?Kevin nodded, a faint smile of his own appearing, while Kira shot the boy a look of sharp irritation. They didn't have time to linger; they scrambled to the front entrance, setting up the tripod and checking the audio levels.

  ?"We’re the only ones here with a professional rig," Kira whispered, her eyes gleaming. "We should go live. Now."

  ?"Yeah," Kevin agreed, his hands flying over the controls. "Nobody guessed she’d show up today. I thought there were people whose minds couldn't be read." He cast a smirk in Kira’s direction.

  ?Kira’s expression darkened as she stared out at the street. "There was one person who guessed," she murmured, lost in thought.

  ?They broke eye contact as the signal went green. Just as Hana Rosse began her ascent toward the New Talent Exhibition, a man lunged from the shadows of a pillar. He swung a heavy, jagged stone. It struck Hana squarely on the forehead with a sickening thud.

  ?In a blur of motion, the police tackled the assailant, pinning his arms behind his back. But it was Hana’s reaction that froze the blood in Kevin’s veins. She didn't scream. She didn't fall. Instead, she reached into her pocket and produced a wet compress, pressing it to the wound with a clinical precision that suggested she had been expecting the blow.

  ?Kevin and Kira stood paralyzed, the camera still rolling. After a heavy, suffocating pause, Hana turned. Her gaze locked onto them, and she began walking directly toward their position.

  ?"Did you catch that?" Hana asked, her voice steady despite the blood blooming across the white cloth.

  ?"M-maybe," Kevin stammered, his professional composure deserting him.

  ?"I want to use your footage," she said, tilting her head slightly, her eyes unreadable. "Let’s get it done here."

  ?An officer approached, whispering urgently into her ear. Hana nodded curtly. "The event must continue as planned. I will proceed after I’ve been looked at." She turned her gaze back to the reporters. "They’re coming with us."

  ?An hour later, the street had returned to a haunting normalcy. The rain had washed away the chaos, leaving the pavement glistening under a mocking sun. The only evidence of the violence was a single, jagged rock stained with a dark, drying crimson.

  ?Inside the police cruiser, the air was thick with confusion. Kira fidgeted, her usual cynicism replaced by a jagged tension. "I don’t think we’re the right people for this..."

  ?"I’m sorry for the inconvenience," the officer in the passenger seat said, not turning around. "But we need you to provide a formal statement as onsite witnesses."

  ?"We already told you, we’ll give you the footage," Kevin argued.

  ?"This isn't just a minor street scuffle," the officer replied gravely. He gestured to his partner, a weary-looking constable.

  ?"The attacker... he’s an old man who lost his son," the constable explained, his voice heavy. "The boy cut his own nerves. The father blames the book. He says it’s gloomy, that it plays with a child’s mind. That’s why it was banned, but it doesn't matter. Pirated copies circulate like a virus. They say forty percent of the kids in these schools have read it. There’s no end to it."

  ?He looked back at them through the partition. "We have the live feed, but we need a human claim to anchor the case. If you want, we can drop one of you off."

  ?Kevin looked at Kira’s pale face. "No. It’s fine. We’ll stay."

  ?"Good," the officer said with a small, sad smile. "We’re stopping at the hospital first. We should treat that wound of yours, too, young man."

  ?Kevin blinked, touching his temple. His fingers came away red. "It’s just a scratch. I’m fine."

  ?Kira leaned in, her eyes tracing the line of blood on Kevin's face, a detail she hadn't even noticed in the heat of the moment. To mask her growing unease, she looked toward the front of the car.

  ?"Is she still bleeding?" Kira asked, her voice small.

  ?The officer rubbed his own forehead, a gesture of sheer exhaustion. "Yeah," he whispered. "She is."

  Continues...