Marvel: My Eyes Defies Fate.

"Why did you pay for my drinks?"

Logan slowly approached Kurogai's table and sat down across from him without hesitation, eyeing Kurogai with a puzzled expression.

A down-and-out drifter like him was usually shunned by others. He couldn't quite understand why this man would cover his tab, and it made Logan a little curious.

"I thought you looked interesting, simple as that. Believe it or not," Kurogai replied casually.

In his eyes, it wasn't a big deal. Besides, he had always liked Wolverine from the movies, so doing a small favor like this felt natural.

"You're a strange one, but I don't like owing people," Logan said, lifting the bottle and taking a heavy gulp. "Tell me what you want. I can take care of it. Hell, if you've got someone you need dead, I'll handle it. Call it even for the drinks."

Logan rarely involved himself in others' business, but thanks to his irritable nature and unusual abilities, trouble seemed to follow him. He'd seen plenty of darkness in his time, which made his offer disturbingly sincere.

Kurogai shook his head. "No need. If there's someone I want dead, I'll handle it myself."

His words were calm, but the murderous intent woven through them was unmistakable. After his month-long crusade against Hydra, that killing aura clung to him like a shadow.

Besides, Kurogai didn't need Wolverine's help for anything. If a problem arose that he couldn't handle, Logan wouldn't stand a chance against it either.

Logan raised an eyebrow, finally regarding Kurogai with genuine interest. "Huh. So you've got some blood on your hands too."

To speak with such confidence, and to radiate that level of murderous aura… Logan could tell immediately this was no ordinary young man. In fact, it was rare for anyone — let alone someone so young — to carry the kind of weight he sensed from Kurogai.

A grin tugged at the corner of Logan's mouth as he raised his bottle in a toast. "Here's to bad stories and worse memories."

He downed a heavy swig.

Kurogai barely acknowledged him and asked coldly, "You still planning to wander around aimlessly like this?"

Logan lowered his drink, frowning. "What's it to you?"

Kurogai met his gaze. "It's been years, Logan. Are you still chasing shadows, still trying to remember who you are?"

Logan's hand froze, the bottle halfway to his lips. His eyes widened as he stared at Kurogai, the wildness surfacing instantly like a lone wolf cornered in the woods. A primal, feral energy radiated from him, making the air thick with tension.

He hadn't told this man his name.

How did Kurogai know it?

But more than that — how did he know about Logan's search for his past? A secret he'd shared with no one.

"Who the hell are you?!" Logan demanded, baring his teeth. The tension in the room sharpened like a knife's edge.

But Kurogai was unmoved, completely unfazed by Logan's threatening aura.

"Boss," Kurogai called out calmly.

The hotel owner, still pale from earlier, rushed over. "Y-yes?"

"I'm done eating."

Without even asking for money, the owner quickly nodded. "Of course! Come again anytime."

Kurogai stood and walked toward the exit, his pace unhurried. Logan, eager for answers, quickly followed him out.

The town was quiet under the night sky. Kurogai made his way through the dim streets until they reached a deserted alley. Logan's patience finally snapped.

"Stop right there!"

Logan stepped in front of Kurogai, his voice rough and demanding. "Tell me how you know my name, and what you know about me. Now."

Kurogai stared at him for a long moment, then spoke.

"Logan, you should head to New York sometime. You might find what you're looking for there."

His tone was casual, but something about it struck Logan deeply. For a man who cared little for others, Kurogai's words carried an unexpected weight. It wasn't his style to help others without reason, but perhaps for the sake of the Wolverine he admired from his past life, he was willing to offer this much.

New York was home to certain people — and certain memories.

"New York…" Logan muttered, his voice low. The name stirred something inside him.

But when he looked up, his eyes hardened. The need for answers burned too hot to ignore.

"I'll go," Logan said, his voice like gravel. "But I'm not waiting. I want to know what you know right now."

With a metallic snikt, Logan's adamantium claws slid out of his knuckles, gleaming in the dark alley.

He didn't care who this man was or how dangerous he might be. Logan had waited too long for the truth.

Kurogai's eyes narrowed, a trace of displeasure flickering across his face.

"You're overstepping, Logan," Kurogai said quietly.

He could have told Logan what he wanted to hear, and he hadn't intended to act mysterious. But he hated being threatened.

He had done Logan a kindness by pointing him in the right direction, and Logan's reaction was to draw blades. Kurogai didn't take kindly to that kind of arrogance — no matter who it came from.

And when Kurogai was displeased, things had a tendency to get…complicated.

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