A/N: And here's the second part of the Moebius arc! There's a particular character who I intentionally made a bit OOC to distinguish their personalities better, but I'll change it back if people don't like it.

I've been working on a cover to hopefully get more people to check this story out, but it's not a guarantee...I've been thinking of cross-posting on a different site, and I might end up doing that.

"--Frank, are you listening to me?"

"Huh?" I looked up from my half-finished dinner, an array of side dishes accompanying a bowl of rice. "Sorry, I was distracted."

Hayato sighed as he placed his chopsticks atop his finished bowl. "I said that I heard Moebius attacked a friend of our 3rd Division Captain. They're another bosozoku in Tokyo that control Shinjuku," he explained. "Peh-yan, the Vice-Captain, has seemed kinda shook lately. He's not been taking up my offers to hang out."

"We're...going to war with them, aren't we?"

"Probably, yeah. We'll find out for sure at this meeting. Now hurry up, or we might be late." He pulled down the dark sleeves of his Toman tokko-fuku and leaned back into his chair as he waited.

I didn't feel very hungry this evening, but nevertheless I picked up my bowl and started shoveling rice into my mouth. The restaurant food tasted bland, probably because I wasn't savoring it and instead was distracted. It was a meal wasted.

I finished not long after, and we together exited the establishment. I caught the spare helmet Hayato tossed at me and gently put it on, careful to not mess up my gelled hair. In the dim lighting of the street lamp, he mounted his motorcycle and raised the kickstand. With his legs on the ground and supporting the weight of his bike, he prompted me to get on. I was still somewhat iffy on riding with an unlicensed driver, but he'd gotten me here without any trouble. I raised a leg over the seat and hopped on behind him, fidgeting to find a comfortable position. After adjusting some things on his bike, he revved up the engine, and we drove off into the night.

Seeing the lights of the city flash by reminded me of driving back home, but there was an unmatched exhilaration in the unblocked wind blasting in my face, equal parts delirium and anxiety that I was going to fall off. The feeling only worsened each time he swerved, as I could feel my center of gravity tilt at an awkward angle from the inertia. I kept my eyes focused solely on the bike and the back of Hayato's unhelmeted head, gleaming in the city lights.

We stopped behind a large van at a traffic light. Hayato kept his foot on the ground, and I tried not to move and accidentally disbalance us.

"You seem kinda out of it."

I perked up as Hayato spoke. It was quiet enough to hear each other when the wind wasn't howling in our ears. He kept his gaze focused on the light.

"Don't worry about the war. If there's any time you're in a pinch, just holler for me and I'll come over to kick some ass. I've beaten Mitsuya before...one time out of twelve...but there's a reason we control Shibuya. We'll definitely win. I swear it." He thumped his chest with a fist.

The issue I was troubled over was one only I could fully understand with my unique foreknowledge. I doubted anyone else would be able to, no matter how much I tried to explain it. Even Takemichi, despite his situation being the closest to my own. But Hayato was trying to cheer me up in his blunt, although simple-minded, way. I had to honor that.

"Thanks, Hayato." I offered a small smile, but he didn't notice, still (thankfully) watching the traffic light.

"Anything for a bro."

We passed through a more secluded area, the only lighting coming from the streetlamps lining the road. I buttoned up my half-brown and half-plaid jacket, now a little less scared to take my hands off the seat.

I heard Toman before I saw them. The noisy revving of their bikes and yelling notified me of their presence before we turned the corner into a wide parking lot, where there was a large crowd of about a hundred, all dressed in black tokko-fuku and white boots. The headlights of their bikes lit up the lot, and several members wandered around restlessly. It was an intimidating sight that would easily frighten away any passerby.

A few turned to watch us as Hayato halted at the edge of the crowd and deployed the kickstand after shutting off the engine. Rather than him though, it was more focused on me. I tried to not to think about them as I awkwardly swung my leg over the seat and got off.

"Yo, Hayato. Who's that?" one of them called out.

"We got a new member in the 2nd Division a few days ago," he replied as he effortlessly dismounted. Most of them turned away at that, curiosity satiated. The 2nd Division really was an outlier, I realized after seeing the blatant difference in reception. It was likely my Division had been nicer because I was in their unit, but still.

Hayato spoke to me in a quieter voice. "I'm gonna hang out with a friend. Just follow what the rest of the gang are doing, alright?" I gave my affirmation, and he disappeared into the crowd. I didn't want to hold him back any longer. With nothing to do, I just stood beside Hayato's bike. The gang stayed in the parking lot, casually conversing. A handful of members arrived in the meanwhile, sparing me a glance but largely ignoring me as they met up with the others. Good, because this outfit was still mortifying to wear. I'd rather die than be scrutinized like a flamboyant peacock at the zoo. Wait, make that peahen.

"Frank!" Mitsuya approached me, looking sleek in his uniform. "I saw Hayato. Seems that you made it."

"Yeah, he drove me here," I said. "When's the meeting going to start?"

"In a few minutes. We're just waiting for any stragglers. Although..." he sighed. "I would've wished you'd meet the gang under better conditions."

"On the contrary, I think you joined at a great time," a new voice chimed in. "We haven't had any big fights like this one since the gang was formed."

Tall. The newcomer's height was the first thing I noticed as my eyes tracked up over his black tokko-fuku, looking for an end. He was at least six feet; there was no chance he was just a middle-schooler. He had a chiseled face and dark eyes, and a blond tuft of hair dangled freely at his jawline, the rest tied back in a braid. But his most striking facial feature was the artistic tattoo etched into his left temple, the loose, flowing lines and swirls depicting a perched dragon with its maw lowered to roar. Written on his left sleeve in gold: First Gen Vice-President. Ryuguji Ken, or as he was more commonly called, Draken.

Looking at him brought up a unique mix of emotions. It wasn't quite the same as with Hina, who was scheduled to die nearly 10 years in the future. To be able to look at someone and know with utmost certainty they might die within a month was somewhat disturbing. Who, if things went wrong, really would die within a month.

"Hah? You got a problem with me?" Draken bent down and leaned his face into mine, a menacing expression contorting his features. He'd caught me staring. I almost stumbled as I instinctively backed up, mouth intentionally frozen shut so I didn't let anything stupid slip, his potential demise, for example. But more than just the initial shock, it unintentionally reminded me of my confrontation with Moebius.

Mitsuya grabbed the shoulder of the taller boy and hauled him back. Draken didn't resist the motion. "You're scaring the newbie, Draken." Yes, you are. The newbie is losing her--I mean his--shit. I forced my body to relax.

"Why'd you call that boy with his girlfriend here, anyway?" Mitsuya asked.

"It was more of Mikey's decision than mine, but I wasn't intending for him to bring Hina-chan along." He stared back over the crowd, seeing something only he could with his height. "Takemitchy's an interesting fellow."

I almost completely forgot that Takemichi and Hina would be here. I still hadn't gotten my uniform yet, and I stuck out more than a turkey among a pack of wolves. Self-consciously, I patted down my hair.

"You want to recruit him? No offense Draken, but he doesn't seem the type."

"I could say the same to you," Draken nudged his head towards me. Hey. It might've been true, but it was still rude to be told that point-blank. It showed how little he gave a shit about me, I guess. "Just see him fight. I guarantee you'll see what I mean."

"Hm, is that so?" Mitsuya hummed. "I'll keep an eye on him, then."

"Draken!" Another boy made his way out of the crowd. "Mikey's calling for you."

"M'kay. Seems it's about time to start." Draken disappeared among the gang, although I could still see the top of his head as he approached the middle of the herd.

"Meet up with my division. Follow what they're doing and don't stick out, okay?" Mitsuya addressed me. After having been mostly ignored for the past minute, I snapped to attention.

"Yeah, I will." He left with a small wave and followed Draken.

Now then, off to find the 2nd Division. I eased my way through the gang, trying to spot any familiar faces from the welcoming party. The inconsistent lighting from the headlights of the bikes made distinguishing them harder. Luckily, I was spared any further squinting when someone called me. I greeted them back by name and was pulled over into a huddle of members from my division.

"Yo, did Hayato ditch you?"

Yes. However, he'd already done much for me, and I didn't want to be too clingy. But another member replied before I could. "I saw him with Peh-yan earlier."

"Eh, whatever," the first boy shrugged. "But listen: when the meeting gets called, stand at the gate, bow down all the way, and wait for the President to walk to the steps of the shrine. Don't make a sound this time around and just pay attention to what we're doing. Only after he climbs the steps do you get up. Do you understand?"

It was strangely coordinated and orderly for what I expected of a gang. But then again, I'd never been in one. I nodded.

"It should begin any--"

"Hey, gather around!" Draken's voice cut through the parking lot. "We're starting the meeting!" The gang instantly went silent and hurried towards the red Shinto gate at the edge of the lot, where they bowed with solemn expressions. I let myself be pulled along with the crowd and copied them. I swallowed at the sudden change in mood as the previously unruly gang lowered their heads with utmost respect.

"Good work, President!!"

In the absolute silence following the synchronized greeting, I heard several pairs of footsteps pass by on the path created by the gang. Without a doubt, it was Mikey and Draken. Takemichi too, if I remembered correctly. I resisted the urge to raise my head and watch, keeping my gaze down at my feet. My hands clenched in anticipation.

After hearing clothes rustling around me, I peeked to the side and followed everyone else in standing up fully. The same member of the 2nd Division grabbed my sleeve, and I let him pull me through the gates and into a small stone-pathed plaza in front of the shrine. A small forest of tall deciduous trees encircled the area. The gang stood loosely in their divisions, and I spotted Mitsuya and Hakkai at the front of ours. Next to them stood a shorter, stocky boy with blond hair, accompanied by a lanky boy with short, also blond hair. Pah-chin and Peh-yan, Captain and Vice-Captain of the 3rd Division respectively.

On a platform at the top of the set of stairs, backed by the stout building of the actual shrine itself, there stood a young-looking boy with long, pale hair, contrasting the black coat he wore open. He looked out of place--short, gentle, unintimidating--yet all these fearsome delinquents waited quietly for him to speak. It felt like there was a joke hidden somewhere, but I couldn't bring myself to look for it, for fear he'd somehow find out I was thinking ill of him. I understood his strength, both physically and emotionally, and it scared me. It was the big man himself, the First Generation President of Toman: Sano Manjiro, AKA Mikey.

Behind him were Draken and Takemichi, looking just as out of place as me in his school uniform. Future Takemichi, going by how he awkwardly shifted in place or fidgeted with his hands.

So Draken really died, then. I frowned, realizing the implications of his presence.

Mikey began to address the assembled gang, all standing at attention with their hands behind their back. "We're here because of the Moebius incident. As most of you know by now, they picked a fight with Pah-chin's friend on our turf. If we do end up clashing, it'll be around the time of the Musashi Festival." He spoke calmly, yet each word projected effortlessly through the noiseless clearing. His charisma was undeniable.

"Now that that's out of the way, let me hear your thoughts." He sat down at the top of the stairs, smiling friendly. No one said anything. I glanced at the members around me, whose expressions were held neutral.

Takemichi and Draken had begun talking, although I couldn't hear the exact contents of their conversation. Draken called Mitsuya up, and Mikey ignored it as the 2nd Division Captain walked past him. He did, however, watch as Pah-chin and Peh-yan followed not long after, and Pah-chin proceeded to kick Takemichi into the ground, who spluttered angrily. Then the admins on the platform argued with each other. There was a little muttering in the gang here and there, but it was still generally calm despite the disrest breaking out on stage.

"Hey, who's that?" someone whispered from behind me.

"It's the President's guest," another person answered. "Be polite to him."

Pah-chin stomped down the stairs, obvious discontent on his face. Peh-yan walked behind him in a more controlled manner.

"What will you do, Pah?" The gang went dead silent again as Mikey spoke up. The person in question froze in his tracks and turned to properly face his leader. "Do you want to do it?"

Pah-chin slowly lowered his head at the sitting boy. "They're older than us. They butted in on our territory. But it's gonna cause a lot of trouble for everyone. I can't...it's so damn frustrating, Mikey." He struggled to get out his words. No one jeered at the boy openly showing his weakness, but their mouths were set in grim determination. Ready for a declaration from their leader. Ready to go to war for their friend. This was a gang, huh. I could admire that.

"That's not what I meant. Do you want to do it or not?" Mikey posed it as the simplest question in the world. One with an equally simple answer that everyone knew.

"I WANNA DO IT!!" Pah-chin yelled. "I WANNA FUCKING KILL THOSE ASSHOLES!!"

Mikey grinned. "I thought so." Without sparing a pause, he leapt to his feet and called out to the entire gang. "Does anyone object to that?!"

A particularly vindictive part of me sure didn't. And it seemed everyone else agreed, judging from the stark silence. I saw wide smiles break out as they came to the same realization.

"There ain't, is there?! Then we're going to crush Mobeius!!" Mikey declared.

The gang erupted into noise, many of them pumping their fists in the air. I winced at the sudden change in volume from zero to max. A mob of boys, about ten years younger than me, all braying for blood. I felt very out-of-place among the black-clothed members. Yet I couldn't not admit to the shiver of carnal excitement that ran through me. Damn crowd psychology.

"The battle will be on August 3rd, during the Musashi Festival!"

The plot was playing out the same. This was what I wanted, wasn't it? Yet I couldn't quite share in the cheering of the members around me.

---

There was only one major hospital in this part of the Shibuya ward, but it wasn't necessarily true that all nearby patients would be stationed there. It was a good start, however. With summer break having started less than a week ago, I had plenty of time.

"I...don't know her name, but I know she was taken in on Wednesday along with three others, another boy about her age and two adults. They were brutalized by a gang."

"What relation do you have to them?" the receptionist asked with a critical eye after typing on their desktop computer.

"I'm unrelated. I was passing by and saw them hurt on the street; I just want to make sure they're okay."

The staff member thoughtfully tapped a pen on the table. "Hm, I think I know which patients you're referring to." A list of four names were read off that meant nothing to me. "Three of them are in general care, and the other is indeed in the ICU. But..."

"But?" I prompted nervously.

"The ICU's visiting hours are restricted from 7:30 to 8:30 AM and 3 to 8 PM. I'm sorry, but you'll need to come back later to visit her."

Crap, I forgot. I'd only checked the general visiting hours for the weekend and came at a corresponding time. Lately, I'd been absent-minded like this.

The least I could do for the victims was make sure they were okay. It was the girl I wanted to check in on, since if the others were in the general ward, their states shouldn't have been too serious. It wasn't as if I had any medical experience and could diagnose injuries with a glance, but there was a certain solace in watching a chest rise, no matter how weakly.

"Here," the receptionist thrust a note card at me, the four names earlier mentioned scrawled in pen. "I'll still be on shift in the afternoon, so if you come back again, I'll be able to help you."

"Thank you," I told the sympathetic receptionist as I accepted it. There was a line waiting for me, so I left the front desk and headed for the entrance of the hospital.

Hurried footsteps came back from inside, and I looked back just as I passed through the glass doors to see a heavyset boy with blond hair parted to the side right behind me, a mean-look in his eyes. A scar cut through his lip, a second one under his eye. Pah-chin? It was hard to be certain when he wasn't in his gang uniform but instead in a pale, short-sleeved jacket that hung open, sweatpants, and sandals. Wait, he hadn't figured me out, right? I had my curly hair down and a long skirt on, clearly 'Blake.' Why was he very clearly following me?! I raised one of my stick-like arms defensively, for all the good it would do against a boy who could probably bench triple my weight.

"You were the one at the park at night on Wednesday, right?" he asked in a gruff voice.

"Y-yeah, I was."

"Thank you for saving my friend's life. I am forever grateful."

I stiffened in shock as Pah bent down 90 degrees, arms at his sides in a proper bow. I could see the back of his partially-shaved head. Had he recognized me by my foreign features? I wasn't sure how else he'd know it was me without having actually seen me in person. That question aside, though...

In the original story, they would've all come out alive, although still battered. But Pah wouldn't know that. For all he knew, Moebius would've killed them then and there if I didn't interfere. He was giving me much more credit than I deserved. My gaze fell to the light concrete.

He stood back up after several long seconds of silence. I tracked his face as he rose. Less than a meter away from him, I could see that his eyes were bordered by red, slightly swollen. It gnawed at me.

"I...I'm sorry I wasn't able to stop them sooner," I lied.

"They're still alive now because of you. That's what matters."

I stood there awkwardly, uncertain of what to say as Pah firmly met my gaze. He eventually pulled away and shut his eyes with a long sigh. "I've decided," he muttered to himself, so softly I almost didn't catch it. He walked away with a purposeful air to his step, strangely determined to do something even if it meant breaking his morals.

I didn't stop him as he left.

---

"-- ♪"

My breath came out in short pants while I whirled across the pavement, the wind effectively cooling down my gelled back hair and sweaty forearms. The late afternoon sun peeked past the gaps in the chain-link fence, casting interesting patterns across the graffitied walls.

Shibuya of this era had plenty of good places similar to these to be alone in, if you just slowed down and looked for them. The parking lot I'd previously danced at was probably still in use at this time of the day, but I'd coincidentally stumbled upon this place after making a wrong turn to the park. The occasional passerby came and went, but it was pretty much abandoned.

In the end, I hadn't visited Pah's friend, his friend's girlfriend, or his friend's family in the hospital (wow, that was a mouthful). I just went home to eat lunch with my host family and then came outside to move around a bit. They had been understandably strict on me leaving the house in the past week, but now it was fine as long as I got home before night.

Exercise was weirdly relieving. My mind felt clearer and more alive than it'd been the past few days since that incident with Moebius. Lately I'd been a brooding mess, almost as bad as I'd been when I first came to (flew to? teleported to?) this world. My injuries were essentially gone now, but the event still remained on my mind.

What exactly did I want? Everything was happening as it should. It was my plan to stick to canon like a stubborn piece of chewing gum under a school desk, but why did I feel so unsatisfied and discontent?

This was the last chance, and it was technically the only chance "I" got. Since future Takemichi returned, Draken must've died. But what did the "me" of that timeline do? Did I step in to prevent bystanders from getting hurt? Did I set out on a botched attempt to save Draken? Did I ultimately decide to do nothing? I couldn't even know what consequences my actions had, if any. Heck, maybe I even ended up saving Draken from getting stabbed by killing Kiyomasa first. This was my only chance, and I couldn't afford to recklessly change things.

And yet, I still felt too guilty to visit that girl in the hospital.

Logically speaking, the answer of what to do was obvious. It was better to keep the future a known quantity than taking a high-stakes gamble with incomparable returns and having all hell break loose. Someone would get hurt no matter which option I took; it was just a matter of determining which had the better risk-to-benefit ratio. All the more reason to let the original plot play out.

I was literally yanked out of my thoughts as I tripped over a stupid crack in the pavement. The problem with these sorts of areas was that they weren't too well maintained, which I previously considered to be an insequential problem compared to the peace and quiet it offered but was now regretting on account of that kind of pointy-looking rock zooming towards my face--

"Oof--" I saw a dark, long-sleeved arm slide below to catch me before my face bounced off of a bony shoulder, which still felt as if a hammer was taken to my skull, but it was way more forgiving than the ground would've been. My tape player continued to play in the background.

"Frank, you alright?" Hakkai said as he helped me to my feet. I swept back a few strands of hair that had come undone in the collision. Being recognized while dressed up as a girl was the worst possible outcome, which was why I'd decided that when going out I'd try to do so as Frank whenever possible. So him recognizing me as such wasn't the problem. No, the more prominent question on my mind was:

"When'd you get here?" I asked, genuinely baffled.

"About five minutes ago. I coincidentally passed by. You looked distracted, though. But anyway, that was really cool, Frank! I didn't know you could dance like that."

He was laying it on a tad thick. Especially considering that he'd just witnessed my trip. "Er, I'm not really that good; I just used to practice from time to time by myself." I was at the level where I could say I was better than the average person without feeling arrogant but nowhere near a pro. I clicked my player off.

"Everybody I know dances like a literal monkey. Compared to that, you're seriously the god of dance."

"...that's the first time I've been called that, but thanks."

Hakkai laughed. "You deserve it. Taka-chan suspected you did some kind of sport, and I guess this is it. Dance is a good way to build stamina and agility.

"For a street fight, though, other than basic conditioning, I'd say experience is the most important. He also told me you didn't have any and were really weak." Blunt as always, my captain.

"Y'know, I could help you." Hakkai extended his fist out to me as a breeze sent his golden earring astir. "I never properly learned how to fight, but I can share with you some pointers and spar with you a bit."

I closed my gaping mouth. That had come out of nowhere. It was a valuable offer, to be trained by the second strongest in the 2nd Division, to be trained by one of the strongest in Toman. However...

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm not really in the mood for it."

"Hm? Well, that's fine, too. If you ever want to, though, just ask! All of the 2nd Division are my pals." His grin implied his words were genuine.

I was about to reply, but the sound of multiple police sirens rang out through the city, and a stream of black-and-white patrol cars sped past us shortly after. We watched the cars disappear around the corner, although their sirens continued to blare.

"Huh, something happened?" Hakkai mused. "The response usually isn't that large."

My new (upgraded!) smartphone chose that moment to go off. Hakkai waved me away to take it, so I walked over to my tape player and leaned against the wall before accepting the call. "Hello?"

"Blake." It was Shigeru, my host father. "Come home now. There was a gang fight in the city. Avoid that abandoned warehouse near the residential area and come the other way. Stay where there's people, you hear me?"

The urgency in his voice had caught me off-guard. "Y-yeah, I understand." Click! He hung up. I blankly stared down at the LED screen before flipping it shut and picking up my tape player from the pavement.

"Sorry Hakkai, but I need to go."

"I didn't mean to hold you up. Bye." He waved before we split ways.

I walked past the tall buildings of Tokyo, the streetlights and signboards starting to turn on with about half-an-hour till sunset. There were still plenty of people in the streets, some warily looking in the direction of the police sirens but most continuing as usual.

The remnants of Moebius that had escaped the warehouse were likely too focused on running from the police to bother with attacking passerby. There wasn't any real need to fear them at the moment.

Then why was I shaking?

I tucked the player into my arm to stop it from clattering, but the sensation of unease rolling in my stomach continued.

---

"Do you have any plans over summer break?" Hina asked as we passed through the city streets, the summer sun shining directly overhead.

"Not really, besides getting my homework done."

"We could hang out together more, if that's fine with you?"

Hina had recently been quite eager to have me in her company. She'd invited me to lunch with some of her other friends two days before, but today it was just us for a movie. It might've been her way of trying to comfort me--word of me running into Moebius had spread like fire throughout the school. Maybe she just normally was this social, especially now with all this free time. Whichever it was, it did help.

"Sure," I replied.

"Alright!" She swung her arms at her side, her pastel blouse flowing. "Let's go see what's showing today. One of my friends told me there was an interesting movie." She took hold of my arm and guided me through the open entryway of the city's cinema, a stout, multi-story building. It still looked a bit retro, but it was rather classy for the buildings of the time, with slick black walls on the exterior and a large, glass skylight revealing the expansive lobby inside.

The AC was on full-blast. I rubbed at my bare forearms. I probably should've worn more than just this thin collared shirt and long skirt. My untied, wavy hair helped keep my face warm, though.

I followed Hina across the carpeted floor to a screen displaying the different movies airing. She pointed at one and told me a brief synopsis, and I rolled with it. I wasn't a movie person and didn't particularly care about which we watched; it was more of her company I enjoyed. We bought tickets at the vendor and headed towards the screening rooms, but Hina suddenly pulled her phone out of her pocket. The screen was lit, displaying a new message. "Sorry, give me a moment," she apologized to me.

"It's fine. There's still a while until the screening starts."

I followed her over to the wall of the hall, where she checked her phone. Several people passed us by, a notable number of them students. It was break, after all. Just doing mundane things like these, after all the action that had happened, was a welcome respite from feeling drained. While admittedly a little boring in comparison, it helped distract me from the impending August 3rd deadline a week away, where the real Toman versus Moebius battle would take place. I sighed and looked over to the girl beside me.

"Huh...Hina-chan?" The girl's brow had become creased as she silently gazed at her phone for the past minute, clearly troubled. It was such a foreign expression from her that I could instantly tell it was a serious matter.

She looked up at me with a reassuring smile after hearing my concerned voice. "Go watch the movie on your own. There's something I need to do."

"Is there something wrong? Do you need help?"

"It's fine. We bought tickets already; you should go enjoy the movie."

"The movie doesn't matter." That 1,000 yen was most of my weekly allowance and I was starting to fall into the red again after having lost all my money to those Moebius members, but I couldn't care less about my empty wallet if Hina was in trouble. I laid a hand on her shoulder as I turned to directly face her. "You're clearly not fine. What happened?"

Her calm demeanour cracked. "Actually...I just heard that Takemichi-kun's been in the hospital. My friend said he's not seriously hurt, but I want to check on him. I'm sorry for cutting our time short."

So it happened. There was no way to tell for sure the story events had gone on exactly the same, but it was a likely inference. I hadn't done anything plot-breaking, after all. But a fight, though...there was no guarantee it'd play out exactly the same. A punch a few millimeters to the side or at a slight angle could result in extra days unconscious. Hell, maybe I gave Takemichi a concussion when I crashed into him at school. He'd probably gotten over it already though, if so. I was overthinking it, but Takemichi had to recover from this incident in time to stop the mess that was about to unfold. He simply had to.

"I'll come with you."

Hina waved me off. "No, it's alright. You don't need to."

"I won't be able to focus on the movie at this rate. Hanagaki-kun's my classmate, too." It wasn't a lie. "Let's go visit your boyfriend." She stopped trying to convince me otherwise, and we hurried to the station. I scanned my IC card at the ticket gates before boarding a train with Hina.

Nothing had changed, right? The bright blue sky vanished as we sped into a tunnel, replaced by darkness and a glimpse of light at every interval. Takemichi would surely recover.

I hadn't somehow convinced Pah-chin to actually kill Osanai, right?

At the end of a blade, determination was deadly. A burst of resolve, of strength, and he would perish. And it wasn't just Osanai who was on the receiving end. Pah-chin's charges would be heavier, which would surely strain things in Toman even further.

I spied Hina in the corner of my eye having her own moment. She stared down at her sandals as we swayed with the rocking train. We'd luckily found an adjacent pair of seats, because Hina had looked slightly unsteady on her feet. I gently placed my hand over her own, resting at her side. "Don't worry, he'll be fine. Your friend said he's not badly injured." Hina had looked after me. I wanted to repay the sentiment.

"Thank you," she quietly said. "I'm probably worrying over nothing, but it's...a little scary to know he's been hospitalized."

I'd never seen this side of her in the manga, or at least I couldn't recall it. She'd fuss over Takemichi getting injured and lecture him, but it wasn't the same as this pensive silence. I only really got to see Hina in the series while she was with Takemichi, and she had always seemed cheerful and optimistic. But she was more than just Takemichi's girlfriend. She was her own being. A real person.

---

"Hina!" A non-Japanese girl whisper-yelled at us from across the long hospital hallway. A few strands of blonde hair slipped off her shoulder as she waved at us, but she swept them back over her off-shoulder blouse as we hurried over. Her pale skin made the redness around her eyes obvious, but she still offered a smile.

"Takemichi's in there," Sanno Emma pointed her thumb at the shut door behind her. "He's still out, though."

"Thanks for telling me, Emma-chan." Hina slipped into the room without further talk. I followed her. Emma looked curiously at me but made no move to stop me. I let the door shut quietly behind me.

Takemichi's hospital room held two patient beds, one of them empty and the other concealed by a curtain that ran around the bed. It wasn't particularly spacious, but there was enough room to easily navigate around. Hina had already gone past the curtain, and I could see her faint silhouette against the wide window at the end of the room.

And there lay the man himself, unconscious and in a hospital gown. There were a few bandages across his face, but he looked mostly fine. I exhaled in relief. As Hina said, it was just the fact he was in the hospital that made me overreact. The panel on the wall above his bed displayed a row of buttons and ports. Beside his bed, a folding chair had been left out, which Emma had likely been using. A stylish tote bag sat atop it.

Hina continued to stand quietly by his bedside, staring down at him. Although her gaze had softened upon seeing him, her frown remained. I let a minute pass before softly speaking up. "Hina-chan, he'll recover. He'll be fine."

"...he got into a fight again." It was hard to tell from his injuries alone. Emma must've told about that too in her text if Hina could say it so matter-of-factly. Or perhaps it was a testament to her perceptiveness. "Why do boys always have to get into fights? All he does is get hurt. I don't want to keep seeing him like this--or worse." Her fingers curled into her palms.

My previous feelings of relief died. I'd willingly let this happen out of my desire to return home. Compared to the alternative of Draken's death, I'd chosen to let others get hurt.

"What...what if there's a reason he's fighting for, an ultimate goal that he can't afford to give up? A goal that he would endure hell itself in order to bring into reality?" I slowly asked.

"I still don't want him to get hurt," Hina said. I shamefully stared at the floor. "But...

"If he truly has found that type of resolve to stand strong and fight again, if he doesn't need to be protected anymore, then I'll support him and won't hold him back. He's changed recently," she admitted. "Sometimes I feel as if I'm seeing a different person in him, and there's also a certain readiness in his eyes at times. I don't know if it's enough yet. But even if it isn't, I'll still always be by his side because to me, there's no one cooler than Takemichi-kun."

I pried my gaze off the ground to observe Hina, who continued to watch the incapitated boy. There wasn't an embarrassed reaction to her own blatant confession but a sentimental smile. She took the top of the thin blanket and tugged it further over his shoulders. "Let's let him rest. If he's trapped in the hospital, he at least won't be able to immediately charge into another fight." Hina headed for the doorway without looking back.

Her air had completely changed after seeing he was well in-person, or as well as he could be after a brawl. Hina was a lovely girl, friend, and girlfriend. Takemichi, I'm rooting for you. In romance or in rescue, you ask? Yes.

Hina and Emma had begun chatting in the hallway, and they turned upon hearing me step past the door. "Oh!" Hina quietly clapped her hands together. "You two don't know each other yet."

I took the initiative. "Myers, Blake. Nice to meet you," I said while extending my hand for a handshake...which had been a completely involuntary action. Take my hand back? That'd just be plain rude. I didn't think handshakes were necessarily impolite, but it was typically a bow in greeting. Argh, switching between national customs was a pain in the ass. I left my hand awkwardly hanging.

"Sano, Emma." The blonde girl shot me a pleasant smile as she returned my handshake firmly. "Charmed, I'm sure," she followed up in native English.

While she'd just flawlessly followed me up, I was more intrigued over the fact that I'd never heard anyone say that line except in movies. It was an interesting disconnect from her seemingly suave personality.

"She's a transfer student from the US at my school," Hina explained. "She's fluent in Japanese."

"Heh..." Emma mused, "your Japanese is pretty good."

Don't nihongo-jouzu me, girl. "Your English is pretty good, too."

She caught onto my sarcasm and smirked. "Hm, you're a fun one. Wanna just go  by first-name basis ditch the honorifics like overseas?"

"Your call, Emma." Hina looked absolutely scandalized.

"Well then, Blake, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." She laughed. Emma was quite feisty despite her red eyes, acting as if nothing had happened. A coping mechanism, perhaps.

"Are you good, though?" I asked. I kept an eye on her reaction.

She played with a wavy lock of hair and shifted her weight. "Yeah, kinda. Sorry I didn't text you earlier," Emma said to Hina. "There was a lot of stuff going on and I was distracted."

"It's alright," Hina assured her. "I hope they go well."

Emma sighed. "Yeah, I hope so, too. Anyway, I'm gonna go grab my bag and head out."

"We'll wait for you." The girl disappeared into the room.

I leaned my back against the wall. She clearly was lying when she said she was alright. How bad would the infighting be...the effect in the gang, aside from between Mikey and Draken, was only mentioned in passing. I doubted, or I hoped, they wouldn't be trading blows with each other. Driving themselves apart because of a certain bastard's plans.

"Emma-chan's taking a while," Hina said after a few minutes. "I'm going to check on her." I hummed in affirmation, and she entered the room. But in the scant seconds the door remained open, I heard two people talking. Takemichi was awake? That was reassuring.

"Takemichi-kun!" Hina's muffled voice came through the door. "What are you...with Emma...wuh? ...grk." Hina made a strangled noise that I'd never heard from her before. This was a day for firsts. "That's disgusting, Takemichi-kun!"

Her boyfriend replied frantically. "It's not what it--!"

I flinched back as the door suddenly swung open and slammed shut, Hina pressing her back against the door with her face bright red and her chest heaving. A nearby nurse sternly glared at us but ultimately didn't come over. This Hina, I was more familiar with.

"So..." I began. "How is he?"

"Hmph!" She pouted. "I don't care anymore. I'm not forgiving him."

"You're crying though, Hina-chan."

"Hina! Really, it's not that!" came Takemichi's muffled scream.

"Am I?" She turned away from me and wiped at her eyes with her arm. "No, I'm not."

I snorted. "You might say you don't care about him, but your body's telling me the opposite. Go catch up with your boyfriend; visiting hours last until 8. There might be more going on than you think." The comical misunderstanding, the fight, his resolve. I stood upright from the wall and walked past her, purposefully avoiding her face. "I'm going home. Bye."

"Bye. And thank you." I raised my hand in acknowledgement as I continued down the hallway.

If I'd been in my right mind at the time, I would've realized that meeting Emma as myself was dangerous. She had a direct link to Toman and popped up at their meetings quite often, so I'd kind of have it coming for myself if she recognized me. Funnily enough, though, she wasn't the one to first put the pieces together. But that wasn't a concern until much later.

A/N: As no one said anything to my question last chapter, the next part will come out in 2 weeks.