Rivalry or Romance

Fadel told himself it didn't matter. Kant was just another fleeting presence in a city full of them, and if he was gone, so be it. But the silence left behind was louder than he expected. He hadn't seen Kant in days-not at their usual spots, not in the vague orbit of Bison's conversations. The absence gnawed at him, wearing down the walls he swore were solid. He even found himself back at that damned noodle shop, the one he'd vowed never to return to, scanning the faces inside like a fool. Nothing. No sharp grin, no knowing eyes. Just the quiet realization that something was off, and it was getting to him. Fadel told himself he didn't care. But the tightness in his chest, the restless agitation under his skin, whispered a different truth-one he wasn't ready to name.

Fadel held out for as long as his pride allowed, but the silence was beginning to crawl under his skin. It was stupid-he was stupid-but the absence was a weight he couldn't shake. Eventually, he found himself near Bison, lingering just long enough to make it seem like he wasn't looking for something. But he was.

"Where's Kant?" The words slipped out before he could stop them, his voice coming off more indifferent than he felt.

Bison paused, eyeing Fadel like he was seeing through him. "Why?"

Fadel scoffed, rolling his shoulders. "No reason. Just haven't seen him around."

Bison's expression didn't change. "He's been laying low." A beat of silence. "You worried?"

Fadel clicked his tongue, looking away. "Not even a little."

But the way Bison smirked told him he wasn't fooling anyone. And that pissed him off even more.

Fadel exhaled sharply, shaking out his shoulders as he lined up his next shot. The weight of the gun in his hand was familiar, the smell of gunpowder and metal usually enough to bring him back to himself. Target practice had always been his way of resetting-of burning out whatever noise threatened to crawl under his skin.

But today, it wasn't working.

His grip was tight, but not steady. His mind wandered, and every time he pulled the trigger, the shots went wide, missing the mark by inches. It was frustrating. He was frustrating. With each miss, irritation bloomed hot in his chest, tangled up with something else he didn't want to name. It felt like the universe was laughing at him.

Another miss.

Fadel cursed under his breath, rolling his neck as he reset his stance. That's when he heard footsteps behind him, steady and unhurried.

"Bad day?" Bison's voice was laced with amusement.

Fadel didn't turn. "Tch. Just off my game."

"Uh-huh." Bison leaned against the nearby wall; arms crossed. "I'm heading out later. Meeting Style and Kant at a bar." He paused, watching for a reaction. "You know, since you're apparently not worried about him."

Fadel froze mid-reload, the bullet clicking into place slower than usual. A bar. With Kant.

He didn't think. Didn't weigh the pros and cons.

"I'll come," he said, casual as he could manage.

Bison raised a brow, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "That so?"

Fadel clicked the safety back on, setting his gun down with more force than necessary. "You got a problem with that?"

"Not at all," Bison chuckled, pushing off the wall. "Didn't think you'd be the type to invite yourself, though."

Fadel ignored the comment, grabbing his jacket. He didn't have a reason to go-at least, not one he was willing to say out loud. But for the first time, that didn't stop him.