A/N: A little sad I didn't get any sort of response, but I'll just keep going anyway. I'll upload an illustration of a scene from each chapter if I'm in the mood to draw; hopefully that keeps some readers going. 

"You bought some clothes from back there? What'd you buy?"

I unsuspiciously patted shut the large paper bag against the leg of my chair, concealing a flash of red from inside. "Yeah, I did. The clothes from that shop you introduced me to are quite cheap, aren't they?"

Hina stared at me for a long moment, her brown eyes trying to read through my very blatant diversion, before taking a scoop of her sundae and following my lead. "I'm glad you like it." I ate a spoonful of my own coffee-flavored ice cream to cool down my sweating face.

It was the weekend, and as promised, we'd headed out to town together. Hinata had shown me around a few more stores before taking me to a quaint cafe, where we were now. The chocolate brown floorboards and walls gave it a homely appearance, and the table we were situated at offered a good view of the bustling street. The cold, sweet treats were a welcome break from the summer climate. I'd definitely remember this place for later.

"So, is there any place you want to go?"

"Hm..." I thought for a few seconds, spoon dangling from my fingers. "Is there an arcade nearby?"

I hadn't touched a computer in a week, and I was starting to get a bit antsy. Technology, although outdated, still did exist, but my host family, being old-fashioned, didn't have one. They probably wouldn't have wanted me on it anyway, in the off-chance that I somehow broke it. The inner programmer in me was getting restless--ok, I just wanted to play video games, alright?

Hina looked surprised. "You go there? I didn't expect you to, Blake-chan."

"Yeah, I do sometimes on my days off. Why?"

"Well," Hina placed her spoon in her finished glass, "you never seemed like the kind of person who would. How should I put this? You feel a lot more like an adult."

I certainly felt like an adult when talking to my 14-year-old classmates. I could feel my IQ drop just listening to them all-day. Hina herself was one of the more mature ones, though. Come to think of it, the majority of the cast acted a lot older than their age, to the point where I kept forgetting they were middle schoolers. I should probably watch myself if she had noticed though, as I didn't potentially want a certain time-traveling 26-year-old on my tail.

I tried to laugh it off, but it probably came off as suspicious instead. "Is that so? That's, like, the first time anyOne's tOld me thAt," I said, intentionally butchering my pronunciation with as American an accent I could muster.

Hina gave me another long look, and I could feel a bead of sweat roll down my cheek. That had probably been a bit overkill. I broke away from her stare as I ate the last bite of my dessert. Being a kid was tough.

---

The arcade Hina brought me to was a dim, spacious room illuminated by the large window at the storefront. Nearly identical machines were neatly arranged in rows, mostly either joystick or button controls. There were enough people, mostly teenagers, to roughly occupy every booth. It was quite a retro arcade, but nevertheless, I found myself gravitating towards the machines.

Hina watched from over my shoulder, uttering words of support that were while heartwarming, implied she'd never played a video game before. Maybe 15 minutes had passed until I realized that I was making her stand and wait for me as I was utterly absorbed in the flashing screens. "Sorry for taking so long. Let's move on."

"It's fine," she replied over the din of the arcade, a kind smile on her face. "You seemed to be really into it."

As we made our way through to the exit, I noticed a particular set of machines near the back of the arcade, which my angle had prevented me from seeing earlier. I could make out a raised platform, a set of bright red handlebars, and a sign at the top of the machine for...

"DDR," I muttered to myself. How nostalgic. I used to play it as a kid a lot in the nearby arcade and had became pretty good at it.

"You could try it before we go." Hina's voice broke me out of my thoughts. She'd noticed me stop and stare. While I felt a little bad making her wait longer, I also wanted to play and relive my old memories. Maybe this body could still do it.

I took her up on her offer and walked towards it, shopping bag still in hand. I set it down at the base of the machine and stepped onto the platform after inserting a coin. A familiar layout popped up on the wide screen, albeit all in Japanese, and I started a game on medium-difficulty: challenging enough, but not too hard to clear, being as out of practice as I was. I grabbed the handlebars and tried to refamiliarize myself with the panels, stepping on each. My long skirt flowed around my legs as I hopped around. It felt familiar, in a way, as if it was already part of my muscle memory. Hina had joined me and watched from behind.

The song started out easy enough, with enough time between notes to look down at the platform and position myself accordingly. Then it started to pick up, and I was forced to stay focused on the screen. I was doing surprisingly well, actually. The most times I messed up were from hitting notes off-rhythm, but I rarely misstepped. This body knew DDR, even if my brain had grown unaccustomed to it.

"Wow! You're really good at this," Hina applauded after I stepped off the platform and collected my bag. We walked together for the exit.

"Well, I used to dance, and being light on my feet helps with these sorts of games," I explained.

"Why'd you stop?"

I hesitated for a second as I reached to push open the glass doors. "I was too busy."

Hina sighed. "That's unfortunate, but I hope you can find time to do so. I'm positive you'll be amazing!"

I chuckled at her optimism. "Thanks, Hina-chan." The hustle of the street greeted us as we left the building, and the summer sun shone down upon us once more. "Maybe."

---

I stared at myself in the mirror of my host family's bathroom with an array of hair products on the counter, the door sealed firmly shut behind me.

"God, I look stupid."

I hoped no one would be able to recognize me, which while being the whole point of all of this, now doubly served as not wanting to be caught dead in this embarrassing guise. No one could ever know.

My short, wavy hair had been straightened, and then half of it had been flipped onto the other side of my head in a way that left my left ear feeling cold. It was held in place with a cleverly hidden hairclip and a crap-ton of hair gel, which made my hair look wet and shiny. The rest of it was tied back in a short pigtail.

In addition to the very adventurous hairstyle, I had a helix piercing on one ear that had long since closed as an adult. I was wearing the oversized jacket I'd bought when out shopping with Hina, boldly patterned with the top half dark-brown and the bottom red plaid. It hung open to reveal a half gray, half white shirt I'd found in my luggage. The dark blue jeans were the least mortifying part of it.

To sum it up, I looked and felt like an adult playing dress-up.

Girls couldn't join Toman. It was implied by the fact that I hadn't seen a single girl in the gang while reading and the general, slightly sexist-attitude about not fighting girls and whatnot. An honor code it might've been, but it was to my detriment. The only girl I knew who had actually fought in the series was Yuzuha, although she had had a somewhat pivotal role in the Black Dragons battle. Did I look enough like a boy, though? I still had the undeveloped figure of a child, and although my build was slim, my facial features seemed more defined compared to the other girls in class. But the main feature that I was going for when I dressed up was that no girl would ever dare look like this. Very few, at least.

I gathered up the hair products I'd left on the counter as well as the long skirt and dress shirt I'd been previously wearing before slowly opening the door, on the lookout for my host family. I had specifically chosen a time when they were both out to avoid having to explain myself. There was a chance they had returned while I was in the bathroom, though. I silently dashed into my room and packed up my belongings before creeping down the stairs. My house keys jingled softly in my pocket.

I let out a sigh of relief as I arrived at the front door without any encounters. But before I could touch the door handle, it turned on its own volition and swung open to reveal Ito Youko, a few bags of groceries in hand.

My host mother was the one I wanted to avoid at all costs. Shigeru, the quiet man that he was, would've just glanced at me and looked away without a single word. On the other hand, Youko would've just blatantly confronted me on it, as she proceeded to do:

"You look marvelous, Blake. Where are you going?"

I couldn't see any hint of the lie in her smile. This lady was terrifying.

"I'm...hanging out with a friend."

"Again?" I moved away from the door as she entered the house, and I took a few of her bags for her. "You were out with Hinata-chan earlier. But I'm glad that you've managed to make a lot of friends in your first week." Hina, the kind-hearted girl that she was, had arrived at my house to escort me on our city trip this morning. My host mother had opened the door, and they'd become acquainted.

I had become 'friends' with some of the other students, but Hina was the only actual contact on my phone. "So, I'll be going."

"Have fun," she replied, "and come back safely!"

---

My basic plan was to join Toman, gather some allies, and assist Takemichi at any seemingly critical moment. Other than that, I wanted to let the main plotline continue its course. It was a very loose outline that would require me to make major decisions on the go, taking into account the individual circumstances to choose the best course of action. But first, I needed to join Toman before the story got too far underway.

That said, I had no clue how to. Moebius and Valhalla had been defeated and taken over. Takemichi had been specially invited by Mikey. How exactly did any of the ordinary rank-and-file join? It wasn't exactly difficult to spot a supposed delinquent while walking past the shops of Tokyo; the two boys in matching bomber jackets on the other side of the road were probably gangsters, judging from their boldly-colored afros. It was the hair that tended to be the giveaway. Something about that hairstyle had seemed oddly familiar, though.

The most concrete method I knew of was to be invited by one of the division leaders. Their words held weight, and it would also place me in a good position. The challenge of getting on their good side aside, I first had to find one.

The people in front of me warily parted for a tall teenager with long, dark hair, his sharp eyes and grim expression giving him a menacing air. It was Keisuke Baji, the 1st Division Captain of Toman. While I knew he was a compassionate individual deep underneath, he seemed abso-fucking-lutely terrifying every other time. As he did now. If I remembered correctly, he was the kind of guy who would randomly start street fights. Approaching him was a death wish. I firmly kept my gaze down at the concrete as he passed.

...maybe I'd find some other Toman official to talk to. Even if I had to wander around for a few days until another one popped up. At the very least, I hopefully wouldn't get pummeled into the dirt without a word in.

Finding people in a crowd was tough. The streets were starting to get more packed as it approached the evening, people presumably going out for dinner, and that just added a whole lot more faces to scan through.

I was about to give up and head home after an hour of searching until one particular head that stood above the crowd caught my eye. An asymmetrical swirly pattern was shaved out of his crew cut, and his earring glittered gold in the setting sun.

I snatched my can of soda off the bench I'd collapsed on and followed without thinking. He took a turn onto a less populated street, and I could now see another boy walking beside him, relatively shorter but still decently tall for his age. He had light, short-cropped hair. Both were outfitted in casual clothing, the taller in a loose, long-sleeved shirt and shorts, the other in a dark hooded vest. Shiba Hakkai, Vice-Captain of the 2nd Division, and Mitsuya Takashi, Captain of said Division, respectively, both disappeared into the curtains of a ramen shop.

Mitsuya had actually been the captain I'd wanted to approach. He was the most laid-back among them, and he seemed like a man of reason. Unlike Baji. Faced with the real situation though, I was getting cold feet. I took a sip to calm my nerves. It'd probably be better to let them have their meal before confronting them; I'd grant them that courtesy at least--

"Why the hell were you following us? Got anything to say?"

"PFFFFFFFF--" I did a spit-take and nearly dropped my soda as I spun around to face said pair of boys, who had at some point sneaked behind me when I'd looked away from the shop. I was the one at fault in this situation, but geez, that startled me.

I quailed under their stares as they waited expectantly. They seemed much taller when meeting them face-to-face. But this was my chance, even though I still hadn't recovered my wits. Just do it!

"Are you part of the Tokyo Manji Gang?" I knew I'd phrased it the wrong way when both boys edged towards me, rising from their slouched positions to tower over me.

"Yeah? Got a problem with that?" Mitsuya drawled.

Sometimes, I failed to remember that these people were gang members. They seemed so friendly interacting with each other that I forgot they would be less welcoming with ordinary folks, likely downright hostile with enemy gangs, if that was the misconception they were currently getting. One I wanted to clear before they beat the crap out of me.

"Please let me join!" I blurted, bowing deeply. The plan of first getting friendly with him went out the window the instant they'd caught me. No time to think, just act!

Both teens were frozen for a moment. I peeked up from my bow to see a hint of surprise on their faces, but it quickly faded.

"Huh? Who the hell do you think you're talking to--"

"Wait a second, Hakkai."

I warily leaned out of my bow as Mitsuya placed a hand on his vice-captain's shoulder and drew him back. A few passerby uneasily walked around us, but none interfered. "Can you even fight?"

That was a very, very good question. I'd never actually gotten into a full-blown brawl with someone before nor been punched in the face before. I bounced on my feet, trying to disguise my shaking knees. Just throw a punch. How hard could it be?

"I guess we'll just have to find out," I replied, a tight grin on my face.

---

I stared up at the full moon in the now-night sky, the concrete beneath me cold. My arms lay outstretched on the floor. I raised a hand to my face and winced as pain reverberated from my nose.

I'd lost. I hadn't even seen the punch from Mitsuya that knocked me out. It couldn't be considered a fight; it had finished instantly after the first blow.

I slowly pushed myself off the ground and supported myself on the wall of the alleyway I was in. A pigeon that had been resting on a ledge beside me flew off with a startled squawk. My body felt sore after being on the concrete for what, two to three hours? Getting home was the last thing on my mind, but I had to do so before they started worrying about me. I stepped out onto the street, which was still fairly crowded, and trudged back. While passing by, I caught my reflection on a bright storefront and stopped.

Dried blood caked my upper lip, and my nose had an angry red welt. My hairdo had come undone after lying on the ground for so long, and bits of dust and dirt were stuck in it. Some blood had dripped onto my shirt.

Well, going home like this would certainly raise some difficult-to-answer questions. I scraped off some blood with my fingernails and ran my hands through my hair as I continued on. It hurt to touch the apparent point of impact. Hopefully it wouldn't bruise, but knowing my luck, I'd have a bright red clown nose tomorrow morning.

Fuck, it hurt. Fuck, I'd lost. I scraped my shoes loudly on the cement and I bit my lip in frustration, ignoring the throbbing pain from the action. I couldn't even last a second. Join a gang? What the hell was I thinking? Of course I'd need to fight. Of course I'd get hurt. But I hadn't expected it to hurt this much. My vision blurred as angry tears ran down my cheeks. And now I was crying.

I couldn't endure this. Takemichi would surely be able to handle it on his own. Everything would work out, even if I did nothing.

---

As I walked closer to Mizo Middle, I could see more and more students in the school uniform heading in the same direction. Most of them had gotten used to seeing a foreigner attending their school, although there were still a few who whispered behind my back or stole glances at me.

"Dude, I still can't believe what happened yesterday!"

"Oh yeah? I was up all-night thinking about it."

"But the hell, man. When did Takemichi start acting all cool?"

"I was worried a bit when he lost his shit right before we went to challenge the second-years, but seriously, what the heck?"

"I know, right?!"

Two boys passed me, loudly chattering away. Suzuki Makoto and Yamagishi Kazushi, if I remembered their names correctly. Both were close friends of Takemichi.

They must've been talking about Takemichi's fight with Kiyomasa, where Mikey had first noticed him. Takemichi had found the determination to stand up for his friend in the fighting ring and never fall down. He'd returned from the future a second time, meaning Hina had died again. By extension, I'd failed again.

I sighed and continued on to school.

---

"Good morning! Huh, when'd you start wearing glasses?"

I greeted Hina back in the hallway as I gently readjusted my eyewear, which kept slipping down my nose. I'd bought a pair of fake glasses last night after worrying how obviously my face would bruise, and although it wasn't as bad as I was dreading, it was still evident. The thick frames helped to conceal it somewhat.

"I always have. I just misplaced them in my luggage."

"Good thing you found them, then. And guess what?" Hina piped up, an unusually happy expression on her face. Considering this was Hina, that meant something.

"What?"

"Takemichi and I are going on a date this afternoon! I just wish I didn't have cram school today so we could spend more time together."

"Oh, that's great! But if you ever choose to skip, I can help you study."

"I'm not going to skip!" Hina reassured me. "But thanks for the offer."

"By the way, did something happen? There's a lot of chattering in the halls..." There were quite a lot of students hanging outside their classrooms, and I could almost feel a strange tension in the air.

"I'm not sure either, actually."

"Oh shit!" Yamagishi, from earlier, exclaimed from further down the hall. He was talking noisily with Suzuki, and their conversation was very much audible to us. "Takemichi was kidnapped by Mikey-kun!"

"Hina-chan?" Hina stepped past me as she walked towards the boys. I slowly followed her.

"Seriously!?" Suzuki replied, equally loud. "He's gonna get killed for real!"

"Is that true?" Hina butted into their conversation, her voice calm but firm. Both boys turned to her and showed signs of recognition.

Yamagishi replied to her. "Yeah. Mikey-kun and Draken-kun apparently butted into class and took Takemichi with them."

"Where are they now?"

"I don't think it was too long ago...they're probably still in school. But they managed to take out all the third years, and there's no one left to--" Hina spun on her heel and took long strides for the stairs mid-sentence.

"W-wait, Hina-chan?!" All eyes turned to me as I spoke up. I wasn't fully sure why I had, but I just knew that my friend was walking into trouble headfirst.

Hina stopped and turned to face me, a reassuring smile on her face. "Don't worry, I'll be fine! I know karate, after all. I'll protect Takemichi-kun, no problem." But her lips were a bit too pinched and her cheeks didn't rise. "Now, I've got to stop them before they leave." She turned back and walked off.

"Tachibana?!" The two boys rushed after their friend's girlfriend, leaving me mostly alone in the hallway.

I stared after their retreating forms and stood in place, unmoving. Hina clearly knew she wouldn't have been able to fight off Draken and Mikey, and it meant so much more without the absolute hindsight that neither would hurt her. Yet she charged off, even sparing a fake smile to comfort me.

"Tokyo Manji Revengers" had redefined the definition of strength with its underdog protagonist, Hanagaki Takemichi. While being physically weak, he was also the most persevering of them all, and that had earned him the respect of the top brass of Toman. True strength wasn't the ability to throw a punch: it was the courage to act.

Gender didn't matter, only your conviction did. In a way, I'd been looking down on the girls for not being able to fight, but in actuality, they were all far stronger than me. What was I doing? I stared down at my open hands. Everyone was fighting, and yet I had wanted to run. Of course I failed; I hadn't even tried. If I let myself get defeated by every setback I encountered, nothing would ever change. So stand back up! Fight!

"Well, I guess I'll make sure to punch that bastard in the face this time, then."

---

I didn't know who was more surprised, me or them, when I found Mitsuya and Hakkai going into the same ramen restaurant that evening. Sure it tasted amazing, but it was unhealthy as fuck.

"You again?"

"Yep," I grinned in what I hoped was a cocky smile, if only to hide the sudden uneasiness I was feeling. "I'll be here all-week long."

Neither of them seemed as aggressive as they had yesterday, but I was still kind of tense, knowing they could easily kick my ass on an empty stomach.

Mitsuya hummed. "Hakkai, grab me a seat. I'll get this taken care of in a jiffy." His subordinate left without a word, leaving us alone. I followed him to the same alleyway he'd knocked me out in yesterday, out of view of most passersby. I'd done my hair up again and taken off my glasses, but the welt on the bridge of my nose was still as red as my jacket.

He angled his body partly away from me, partially silhouetted against the main street. "Well c'mon, if you can," he said, beckoning towards me with a finger. It was a clear invitation to fight.

I inhaled for a second before charging at the taller boy, my fist clenched and arched back, ready to punch. He hadn't moved at all. As I neared, my eyes involuntarily dropped to his fists, inwardly bracing for an attack--

He suddenly leaned down and rammed his shoulder into my diaphragm, forcing me to exhale all my air with a hacking cough. It didn't hurt as much since I'd been expecting and preparing for it, but there was that moment of helplessness where I couldn't breathe or move and was falling onto the ground.

Pain erupted from my nose again as the bastard kicked me in the face, from what I could tell between rapid blinks, and that was the last thing I remembered before it all went dark.

---

"That brat hits like a truck."

I sat up in the now-dark alley, the moon just beginning to peek out of the clouds. My nose actively throbbed this time, and I gently moved it around, trying to feel for any abnormalities. I could breathe fine through it, and it'd stopped bleeding again; it only hurt like hell. At least it wasn't broken(I hoped). I pressed my hands down on the floor to stand up, but a paper napkin poking out of my jacket pocket caught my eye. I hadn't put that there.

There was a message written on it in pen, the handwriting surprisingly neat for who I assumed the sender to be:

If you don't attack, you'll never win. Stop cowering from getting hit.

"Duly noted," I grumbled, wiping clean my face with the back of the napkin. It was simply human instinct to avoid pain, but he wasn't wrong. I'd hesitated out of fear of getting punched again. And I still did get hit in the end, regardless.

I tossed his litter into the garbage bin at the head of the alley, and the pigeon resting on the lid squawked as it took off. Takemichi had some crazy physical endurance if he could withstand way worse than this, stay standing, and willingly do it all again. He really was amazing.

I hurried back home after washing my face in a public bathroom.

---

"Welcome back, Bla--Oh dear, what happened to your face?" It seemed my glasses weren't enough to cover up my darkening bruise this time. I stepped into the doorway, my jacket buttoned up to hide the blood on my shirt.

"I...uh...tripped." The perfect excuse for everything.

"I see. Come on to the kitchen; I'll get you patched up." My host mother lay a hand on my back as she guided me there, even though I could walk perfectly fine. She settled me down in a chair and fussed over me, poking at my injury with a certain precision that implied experience. I winced each time but stayed silent.

"Seems like it's just a bruise, nothing serious." She headed over to the fridge and took an ice pack out, which she wrapped a towel around. "Press this gently onto it for a few minutes." It was uncomfortable on my sensitive skin, but I obeyed. "Good girl." Youko patted my hair lightly. It was not an unwelcome contact.

"Shigeru used to get into fights a lot, and I ended up treating him most of the time. Maybe that's why I ended up becoming a nurse. Retired now, though." She laughed.

Oh. Then she must've noticed I lied, yet she didn't pester me about it. She could be subtle when she needed to. I looked up at Youko, and she smiled back as always.

"Thank you."

"We'll always help you, Blake."

---

"This looks like a good spot."

I set down the tape player that had been buried in my suitcase at the edge of the empty car lot, dimly illuminated by the tall buildings that sprouted up on either side of it. A chain-link fence encircled the area. No cars should come by at this time of the night.

I was dressed in the same street clothes that my past self had on when I'd first traveled back. My wavy hair was tied back normally, and the cool air buffeted my face.

"Hm, what did this one sound like again?" Alongside the tape player was a bag of cassette tapes, each label carefully handwritten. I inserted one into the player and adjusted the volume of the EDM track that belted out. I bobbed my head to the beat for several counts before hopping to my feet and going through a simple dance routine that I vaguely remembered.

It was strange. While I knew I shouldn't be able to move with this grace anymore, my body responded fluidly. At the times where I forgot what went next, it performed the move flawlessly. I dropped out of a spin and snapped my arms out before inching them back in. It felt exhilarating, dancing after so long as if I'd never stopped.

I needed to join Toman in order to protect Hina. If I wanted to change the future, I had to make that first step. Maybe it wasn't necessarily the only way, but it ensured the highest chances at success.

I suddenly stumbled as I threw my balance a bit too far to the side and crashed onto the concrete, my hands colliding painfully with the floor.

I would definitely fail along the way. No one was perfect, after all. Everyone encountered some sort of setback in their lives, be it mental, physical, social. But with no other way to go, they overcame it and became stronger, more prepared to do whatever they needed to do.

I stood back up, shook the pain out of my hands, and resumed on the next set of counts.

Get up and face the world. If you want something to change, do it yourself. Scream out to the world with your actions, and maybe, just maybe, it'll listen to you. But above all--

I hung in the air as time seemed to stop, my jacket and hair fanning out around me. If I could see myself, I would've seen a 14-year-old girl dancing her heart out in the middle of the night with shining, silver eyes and a wide, open-mouthed grin.

--live your life with pride, because no matter who you are, what you've endured, you've made it to this point, and that's truly admirable.

The tape player clicked as it replayed the track.

---

How the everloving-god was this guy so skinny if he ate ramen for dinner 3 times in a row?

I peeked out from the edge of a building, watching Mitsuya wait on a bench in front of the very same restaurant as the previous times. Hakkai was nowhere to be seen; he'd presumably be coming later. It was nearly an hour after the first few times I'd encountered them. I'd only arrived a minute ago, but the second I'd caught a glimpse of Mitsuya, I'd hid. By coming earlier the last two times, I'd had time to prepare myself and have better control over the situation, so this sudden turn of events was a little startling.

"Huh?" I watched in surprise as Mitsuya stood up, glanced around at the stream of passerby one last time, and turned away from the store. Wasn't he waiting for Hakkai? It was a fair bit later than their usual time, though. Wait, Mitsuya was leaving--

I quickly weaved through the crowd to intercept him before he could pass out of my sight. "Mi--" I cut myself off before I could call out his name. He'd never introduced himself yet, and I shouldn't have known it. Instead, once I managed to get within an arm's reach of him, I snagged the hood of his vest and gave it a deliberate tug. The short-haired boy stopped walking and turned to look at me, not the least surprised.

"I'll finally beat you and join Toman, dammit."

He raised an eyebrow. "If you haven't changed, it'll just play out the same, you know."

"Nothing's set in stone. I'm going to win this time." I was quite aware that I was contradicting myself, but my adrenaline was racing a little high and that line had just slipped out. Mitsuya didn't comment on it, if he had noticed.

"Then show me what you've got." I followed him to the same alley I'd been concussed in twice. The setting sun cast long shadows across the street, and people hurried by in the last few minutes of daytime. No one paid attention to the little side street we were standing in, facing each other.

He didn't move, waiting for me to initiate the fight. Just as in the previous times. That was good, because otherwise this wouldn't work. Compared to how I'd been fighting earlier, it was a very bold plan. And by bold, I meant very, very bold.

I took a deep breath and listened to the rhythmic pumping of my heart. By being the first to move, I could set the pace of this fight. I bobbed my head to a nonexistent beat for several counts to become accustomed to it before shifting my weight forward and--

1

Instantly covering the distance between us and halting a foot away from him with my feet in a wide stance, my arm winding up for a punch.

2

Snapping my right fist straight at his face, my body following through. Mitsuya caught my hand on his forearms, locked in front of his face.

3

Dropping to the ground in a crouch while still keeping my center of mass off the ground. His counterpunch sailed harmlessly over my head.

4

Rolling away to his side, my hands catching myself after a revolution, to dodge a kick that didn't come. Mitsuya had brought his arm back in, revealing a surprised expression.

5

Springing to my feet, angled 90 degrees away from my opponent, with my weight solely on my front foot. He had adopted a proper fighting position, fists held ready in front of him.

6

Pivoting on my front leg to kick at his exposed midriff, snapping out my shin for maximum force. He blocked it with his elbow but was forced to widen his stance to keep balance.

7

Slapping my foot back down on the ground behind me and using that momentum to complete a spin, knees slightly bent and fist rearing back. Mitsuya stood there, still unsteady on his feet.

8

Striking my fist forward while kicking off my legs, adding additional force to my hit as it cleanly collided with his unguarded cheek and knocked his head to the side with a loud THWACK!

I followed through with an extra step to regain my footing. I blinked, uncertain of what had just happened. Huh. I had not expected it to actually work, being drunk on drowsiness when I'd conceived this routine last night. There had been a count where I'd been expecting him to attack again, but it didn't end up mattering. Maybe pre-coordinating my fights as dances could work after all--

A fist flashed at my face, and there was a dull crunch and burst of extreme agony before I lost consciousness.

---

As I came to, the first thing I noticed was the distinctive, pungent smell of ramen. I hadn't had dinner yet, but it was a little heavy for my stomach at the moment and instead made me feel queasy. The second thing I noticed was extreme pain and oh it fucking hurt.

Something not unlike paper brushed under my nose, causing me to grimace in pain and crack open my eyes to glare at whoever the hell was doing that--

Mitsuya sat at the seat away from me, stretching his arm over the table to dab a blood-stained napkin at my face. I snorted sharply in shock, aware this wasn't the alley and that a gang member had hauled me off while I was unconscious. A gout of blood splattered on the white table. I hadn't even noticed my nose was bleeding because I was distracted by the pain. Seeing as I was awake and bleeding anew, Mitsuya quickly handed over the napkin, which I delicately pinched around my nose. He pushed a stack of clean napkins towards me, and I wiped off the table with one.

"I think you actually broke my nose this time. Can you stop hitting me in the face?" I asked, my voice nasally.

"I've seen and caused plenty, and I can tell you it's not," he replied, no sympathy on his face whatsoever. Bastard.

We sat there silently for several minutes. The window in the wall beside us showed the darkening sky, and a clock on the back wall of the store showed it was twenty minutes since I'd fought him. While I was waiting for my nose to stop, Mitsuya openly stared at me. With nothing else to do, I stared back. I could almost see the gears churning in his head as he carefully chose his next words:

"Why do you want to join Toman?"

A classic job interview question. I considered replying as one just to sass him, but I ruled against it and answered honestly, albeit obscurely.

"I want to change the future, and the best way to do that is through Toman."

He nodded slightly. "I see." I wondered what exactly he saw in what sounded like bullshit. We relapsed into silence once again. My nose had stopped bleeding.

"That was a good punch at the end." I looked back at Mitsuya as he started talking again. "Not many people have the drive to keep on fighting in the face of an impossible opponent." I bit back the instinct to snark. He seemed to be winding up into a speech. "Every person I beat always flees or submits whenever they see me. They've already given up hope in fighting me.

"You might not be strong in a fight, and honestly, your build isn't really suited for street fighting, but I've seen the strength of your conviction. And I think you're someone who I want to fight alongside."

I gulped as his head tilted downward ever so slightly, feeling the atmosphere grow heavier.

"Will you join the Tokyo Manji Gang's 2nd Division?"

This...this was it. I'd done it. I'd managed to get a way into Toman and even get on a Captain's good side by pure chance. All I had to do was say 'yes.'

"I--"

A tray with two steaming bowls of ramen clacked down on the table. "Here's your order of two Tokyo-style ramens, one with extra pork," the waitress chirped.

"That's mine," Mitsuya gestured at the second. She allocated the bowls accordingly and left with a small bow.

"...I accept."

"Then welcome to the 2nd Division." Mitsuya snapped open a pair of wooden chopsticks and began eating as if nothing had happened. I stared down at the bowl in front of me. Thin, curly noodles sat in the middle of the yellow broth, garnished with green onions. A boiled egg floated alongside a few bamboo shoots, and slices of pork adorned the other end of the bowl. If he'd ordered ahead of time, had he been willing to accept me even without knowing the answer to his question? Had he actually been waiting for me this whole time and not Hakkai?

"What's wrong? Don't tell me you have an allergy." I met his eyes again as he paused between bites.

"No...I was just surprised you ordered for me."

"Well, eat up. I'm paying," he assured me. Unpause.

I opened my own pair of chopsticks and took a deep breath to prepare my stomach before slurping down a generous amount of noodles. My eyes widened instantly.

"Good, isn't it? My buddy and I come here a few times a week."

'Good' was an egregious understatement. While salty, the noodles had a soft, springy texture that burst with the rich, soy-flavored chicken broth. I gulped it down and reached for some of the pork. It was very tender, and while it had absorbed a fair amount of the soup, the meat had retained its original flavor and harmonized superbly with the salty broth. It was fucking delicious. I chowed down with renewed energy.

I could feel my eyes water. Perhaps it was the stifling stench of the ramen. Perhaps it was relief as the realization I'd at last succeeded sunk in. Perhaps it was because the food was so damn tasty.

"I'll certainly remember this place."

---

"Oh wow! This is really good. How'd you find this place?" Hina exclaimed, a hand holding her hair back as she bent over her bowl of ramen.

"A friend introduced it to me," I replied, leaning over my own.

We were both in our school uniforms, having an early dinner as the sun set. I'd brought her over to the same ramen restaurant as before. Mitsuya and Hakkai were nowhere to be seen this time. Hina and I chatted a little as we finished up our meals.

"Let me cover the bill as thanks for showing me around this week," I said. "You've helped me out a lot, and the least I can do is treat you to a meal."

"Alright. Thanks." She could tell I wasn't going to budge and simply accepted it. "I guess we're equal now, then."

It wasn't an equal exchange for what she'd done for me. Hina had looked out for me, spent time with me, encouraged me, and inspired me. I felt as if I didn't deserve such a great friend, and I wanted to repay the sentiment.

Despite being 12 years younger than me, Hina was strong.

And I respected that about her.

A/N: The next chapter will be an interlude of sorts, taking a scene from the "future" in Takemichi's POV, similar to the prologue.