Chapter 11 : Midnight Ramen and Mistrust
Nima's apartment was tucked between the alleys of Sector 3—modest, lived-in, and surprisingly warm. A few plants lined the windowsill. Tactical gear hung neatly by the door. Her bookshelf was stuffed with field manuals and....
And one thick paperback that tumbled off the top shelf as she closed the door behind them.
It hit the ground with a soft thunk, landing face-up.
Kael bent down to pick it up—and froze.
Ray leaned over his shoulder.
The cover showed two striking men standing back to back—one in white, calm and cunning; the other in deep blue, sharp-eyed and draped in fur-lined robes. Between them, hands raised holding cups of golden wine spilling like threads of fate across the cover's ornate palace backdrop. The title, "Ballad of Sword & Wine," shimmered in elegant bold golden font.
Ray blinked. "...Is that a—?"
"It's research," Nima blurted out, snatching it from Kael's hand like it was radioactive.
Kael blinked. "Research?"
"Yes," she said too quickly. "Character psychology. Rival dynamics. Tension arcs. Totally professional."
Ray was staring at her, slack-jawed. "You read gay rival romance dramas for research?"
She shot him a glare so sharp it could cut through titanium. "Do you want ramen or not?"
Ray's hand flew up in surrender. "I love ramen. Big fan. Not judging."
Kael looked amused but diplomatic. "Rival tension can be... compelling."
Nima gave him a suspicious squint. "You're taking this too well."
"I've seen your fight style. It checks out," Kael said with a shrug, walking to the table like nothing happened.
Ray stood frozen in place for three full seconds before slowly turning to Nima. "So... if I find a copy of Enemies with Benefits, is that also for research?"
Nima didn't answer. She just reached into a drawer and pulled out a knife.
Ray wisely took his seat in silence.
********
Ten minutes later, the three of them were gathered around a low table in her small living space. Bowls of instant ramen steamed in front of them—broth rich, eggs poached just right, seaweed laid out like she'd done this a hundred times.
"This is amazing," Kael muttered between bites.
Ray slurped loudly. "I'm just saying, if hero assisting doesn't work out, you could open a ramen shop. Call it Shen's Secret."
"No," Nima said flatly.
"Fine," Ray huffed. "What about Noodle Shenanigans?"
Kael almost choked on his egg.
Nima tossed a spoon at Ray's head. "Eat your food."
They ate in mostly comfortable silence for a while, except for Ray's increasingly terrible ramen-themed name pitches.
"Ramen to the Rescue?"
"No."
"Wok This Way?"
"Ray."
He grinned like a kid who knew he was about to be grounded but didn't care. "Okay, okay. Last one: Hot Broth, Cold Justice."
Kael actually laughed out loud, a rare and surprised sound. Nima tried to stay serious but lost the battle—her laugh was short and sharp, but genuine.
Ray looked between them and smirked. "See? I bring balance to this emotionally-repressed chaos."
"Please choke on your noodles," Nima said sweetly.
Ray lounged sideways on Nima's couch, one socked foot poking off the edge.
"You know," he said cheerfully, "for someone who acts like tech people are the worst thing since villain monologues, you sure let me into your secret rebellion club pretty fast."
Nima glanced up from her datapad. "You're not like the others."
"Oh?" He grinned. "So I'm special?"
"No. You're loud, borderline unhinged, and mildly useful." She sipped her tea. "The others are just quiet and useless."
Ray raised a brow. "Did someone from tech accidentally short out your coffee machine once or something?"
Nima's eyes flickered—sharp, brief. She began explaining….
******
Four Years Ago – Sector 8
The school building trembled like a dying beast. Smoke curled through the cracked walls. Red lights blinked weakly as fire alarms wailed in uneven bursts. Somewhere above, the ceiling groaned from another blast.
A villain attack had torn through the upper floors, and the heroes were still locked in combat. Meanwhile, Nima Shen and her squad had been ordered to sweep the lower levels and hostels for trapped students.
Now, they were stuck.
Nima ran down the half-lit hallway, coughing hard, her arms wrapped tightly around a small unconscious girl. The child's backpack was scorched. Blood soaked through her sleeve.
Behind her, three team members followed close through falling debris.
"Unit 3 to Command!" Nima shouted into her comm device. "We're trapped in the fourth floor of the west hostel wing. Power's out. There's debris everywhere—we need a way out now!"
Static.
Then Baek Ryujin's voice came from behind her, hoarse with smoke. "Did they reconnect the comm lines yet?"
Baek Ryujin had the kind of look that lingered in memory long after he'd left the room—soft, tousled red hair that curled just slightly at the ends, falling over his forehead in an effortlessly messy way. His pale skin contrasted against the deep copper of his hair, making him look like he'd stepped out of a painting left in the sunlight too long.
His eyes were sharp yet distant, always half-lidded like he was caught somewhere between thought and sleep, but when he focused—they burned with clarity. A single silver hoop adorned one ear, subtle but unmistakably him. But now he was covered with black soot and sweat dripped all over his face.
"Still nothing," Nima snapped, smacking the comm. "It's been almost ten minutes!"
Finally, the device crackled to life.
A too-calm voice answered, "We read you, Officer Shen. Emergency tech support is still restoring systems on your floor."
"What?! Why's it taking this long?"
There was a pause.
"Headquarters ordered us to divert power to the executive wing. The school principal was trapped on the top floor. Rooftop extraction teams needed priority signal and lighting, since he has to board the helicopter."
Nima stopped in her tracks.
"You gave up on the kids in the hostel... to save one adult?!"
"The decision was made using the standard emergency algorithm, ma'am. Based on rank, clearance level, and risk score—"
"Tell your algorithm to walk into this hallway and carry a bleeding seven-year-old through fire," Nima snapped, eyes burning.
The line went quiet again.
Her hand closed around something in her jacket pocket: a small silver token, worn rough from years of being carried. It had been given to her during her training days at the bureau, engraved with the words: Courage in Crisis
She clenched it so hard it cut into her palm.
Behind her, Baek Ryujin stumbled. A second later, he collapsed.
"Ryujin!" she dropped to her knees, passing the child to another teammate and grabbing him by the shoulders. His eyes were half-shut, his breathing shallow.
He gave her a weak, smoke-choked smile. "So this is the end, huh?"
"Don't talk," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. "Just stay with me."
The emergency lights flickered on six minutes later.
By then, Ryujin and another team member were both unconscious. They barely got out alive.
Nima never found out who the tech agent was on the other end of that call.
But she never forgot the voice.
*******
Ray blinked.
After a long beat, he said more gently, "Wasn't me."
"I know," she said. "But you sound just like that guy."
Ray winced. "Yikes. Yeah, okay, I hate that guy too."
Nima gave a half-smile. "You still annoy me."
"And yet you still let me eat your ramen."
"Pity makes me weak."
He grinned. "I'm growing on you."
"Like a fungus," she muttered.
But she didn't kick him out.
Right then, the bathroom door opened.
Kael stepped out, after drying his face with a towel, blinking sleepily. "I was in there for ten minutes and somehow you two went from ramen to trauma to fungus?"
Ray pointed dramatically. "Ask her why she hates the tech department."
Kael rubbed his eyes. "I'm afraid to."
Nima sipped her tea without looking at him. "Smart man."
Ray leaned toward Kael and whispered, "She let me live because I'm charming."
Nima: "No. Because I haven't restocked my tranquilizer darts."
Kael raised both hands. "Okay. I'm going back in there. The bathroom is safer."
"You're not wrong," Ray said.
*********
Later, when the dishes were stacked and the room had gone quiet, Kael sat on the floor, back against the couch, feeling something he hadn't in days.
Stillness.
Ray had passed out with one foot out of the futon, a blanket half-eaten by the floor.
Nima came over and sat beside Kael, handing him a cup of hot tea.
"You okay?" she asked softly.
He nodded slowly. "For now."
She didn't press him. Just sat with him while the hum of the city echoed through the walls.
"I needed this," Kael said. "The ramen. The dumb jokes. Just... not being alone for a night."
Across the room, Ray muttered from his half-asleep futon, "You two better not be reenacting Ballad of Wine over there... I swear I will wake up and mediate."
"Go to sleep, Ray," Nima said.
"Tell that to your forbidden romance shelf," he mumbled into the pillow.
Kael chuckled.
Nima didn't deny it.
"…Still not naming the shop that," she added.
Kael smiled. "Of course not."
********
Sunlight streamed through the window, golden and annoyingly cheerful.
Kael stirred on the futon, blinking up at the unfamiliar ceiling. For half a second, he forgot where he was—and then the smell of burnt toast and instant coffee hit him like a memory.
A groggy groan came from the kitchen.
"I swear it said thirty seconds…" Ray muttered, waving smoke away from a charred piece of bread he'd just coaxed out of Nima's very offended toaster.
Kael sat up. His hair was a mess. His shirt was rumpled. He looked less like a pro hero and more like a half-retired college student. "You're burning breakfast now?"
"I'm experimenting," Ray mumbled. "It's called innovation."
"It's called a fire hazard," Nima called from the bathroom, toothbrush in mouth.
Kael stretched, groaning. "Feels weird to not wake up to a mission alert."
Ray pointed at him. "That's the burnout speaking. That means you needed this."
Kael gave a lazy nod and padded toward the table. "Did you sleep at all?"
"I meditated," Ray said, which clearly meant "no."
The three of them eventually gathered at the table again, now lit with morning warmth. Nima emerged with damp hair, casual hoodie, and the same razor-sharp energy in her eyes. She dropped a pack of microwavable dumplings in front of them.
"We feast," she announced.
Ray looked at the dumplings, then at her. "This is your morning routine?"
"Only when I have guests who don't know how to cook."
Kael looked between them and cracked a smile. "This might be the best morning I've had in weeks."
Nima raised an eyebrow. "Low bar, but I'll take it."
As they dug into breakfast, Ray's gaze slid to the bookshelf again. "So... what chapter did you leave off on?"
Nima narrowed her eyes.
Kael just sipped his coffee and muttered, "I kind of want to know too now."
Ray gasped. "It's happening."
"You're both banned from my apartment," Nima declared flatly.
"You invited us."
"Regret is part of life."
A soft silence settled after breakfast.
Ray crashed on the couch again, arms thrown dramatically over his face. "We should do this again before everything inevitably explodes."
Kael nodded. "Yeah."
Nima leaned against the table, arms crossed. "We will. But next time, you two bring the food."
"Deal," Ray said. "Also, I vote for movie night. With commentary. Maybe even karaoke."
Kael smirked. "You want us to die of secondhand embarrassment?"
"No. I want you to sing."
Nima looked at Kael, amused. "Can you sing?"
"I have stage fright," Kael lied.
Ray squinted. "You literally fly through collapsing buildings."
"Yeah," Kael said. "Buildings don't judge pitch."
Eventually, it was time to go.
Kael packed up his jacket and communicator, standing near the door. The weight of the outside world hovered just beyond the threshold.
"You sure you're okay heading back to HQ?" Nima asked.
Kael nodded. "Better now."
Ray stretched. "We'll meet again tonight?"
Nima and Kael exchanged a look.
"Tonight," Kael said, voice steadier than yesterday. "Same spot."
As they stepped into the sunlight, the tension of the city returned like a faint vibration in the ground. But something had shifted. Just a little.
They weren't just surviving anymore.
They were grounding each other—fighting the fear one bowl of ramen at a time.