C7 Eyes That Follow

Arun walked quickly through the quiet streets, his thin jacket doing little to shield him from the midnight chill. His shift had ended, but the echoes of the bar still clung to him—the low growl of Riku’s voice, the mocking laughter of Daisuke, the way both men’s eyes had burned into him as if he were something rare.

Something to claim.

He hated it. Hated the way his skin still tingled, as if their words had branded him.

Kicking at a stray bottle on the sidewalk, he muttered under his breath. “I’m not theirs. I’m not anyone’s.”

And yet…

The memory of Riku’s stare—intense, unwavering—made his chest tighten. He had faced stronger men in the ring, bloodier battles in back alleys, but no opponent had ever made him feel caged without laying a hand on him.

And Daisuke… the way that man looked at him had been different. Not just desire, but calculation. Like he wasn’t just interested in Arun—he wanted to use him.

Arun shook his head hard, trying to push it away. He couldn’t afford distractions. He needed focus, discipline. The underground circuit had another fight lined up for him in two days. If he won, it would mean rent, food, and another month of survival.

But when he passed the reflection of himself in a darkened shop window, he froze.

Arun caught his reflection in the shop window and spat at it, furious. “They’re both insane. Thinking I’d let some man put his hands on me? Disgusting.”

Yet… he can’t shake the unease of their eyes following him.

He clenched his fists.

“Damn it…”

The city around him felt heavier, as if invisible eyes tracked his every step. For the first time in years, Arun felt the fight wasn’t just in the ring anymore. It was in every breath, every glance, every choice.

And the most terrifying part?

He wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to win this one.