A/N: Merry Christmas! Or if it's not when you're reading this, then have a nice day, I guess?

I modified the first chapter a little. The plot remain the same, but I altered Blake's character a bit to be less peppy, now that I have a better grasp at writing her. The first chapter was mainly to show her character anyway, overcoming her initial shock and establishing her goals. Don't worry about going back to read it.

Blake's monologue at the end of 2-4 (Answer) has also been tweaked. To be specific, I cut part of it out and added the underlined portion. This is the new version:

"Saying I was going to save everyone had been an in-the-moment thing, but thinking about it now with a more logical head, what exactly would I do? Should I confess my omnipotent knowledge to Takemichi and join forces with him? Certainly, I could see the benefits. Knowing what role I took in the future, for one. In a way, I'd be given a 'second chance' myself. But telling him wasn't something I could undo. I had to think about it more deeply before coming to a decision."

If I ever do make future edits (I will NOT change anything major unless I cannot see any other way around it), I will do them at the same time I post a new chapter and notify of said edit, like I am now.

Carry on with the chapter.

A massive sigh whistled out of my nostrils and agitated the open page, which gave a raspberry back as it was repeatedly slapped into the page below. I rolled my head upright across the lacquered wood once the page had settled and blew at it through my lips, lifting my head slightly to achieve the perfect angle. The pages remained stubbornly stuck together despite my attempts. I instead gave it a sharp puff and was rewarded with ten or so pages blasting by, the current one an exact replica of the previous.

My pencil clattered against the table as my chin fell back down. The noontime sun passing in through the translucent curtains bleached my room in a pale-yellow haze. Despite the quietly humming air conditioner in the corner, each breath felt stale and shallow.

Normally, I'd be able to keep going for around an hour or two until my attention started to wander. But after studying like this for the past two weeks, I was in the mood to go outside and set my textbooks ablaze even if I got in trouble for it. But no, I couldn't even do that. My host parents had confined me home since the festival fight, with the exception of a supervised walk every afternoon. I understood their concern, but I had nothing to do after finishing my homework in the first few days. While that cursed word was typically a target of my enmity, I'd felt pleasingly productive while completing them. Part of it was due to the fact that they were considerably easier than the kind I was used to in college, and finishing them was a breeze. And then I'd done all the easy stuff and was left with Japanese history.

On the bright side, I'd caught up in that department in forcing myself to study. I doubted I'd be able to ace tests from now on, but I at least wouldn't fail them. Hopefully. Japanese history was admittedly somewhat interesting with its numerous wars and political strife. Interesting in a sure-I-guess-that-happened way. I pushed aside my open textbook. Most of it had no immediate relation to me and thus invoked no immediate urge in me to allocate any of my time into it, aside from my motivation to not fail history class. But there was a particular sliver of relevant history that I was currently engrossed with, of which my aptitude to retain it would be continuously tested.

I pulled towards me the notebook sitting inconspicuously at the edge of my desk and picked up a pencil. My hand had healed completely, although a thin white scar marred the first joint of my fingers, as if someone had stupidly grabbed a knife by its blade and played tug-of-war with it. Very, very luckily, I hadn't needed any surgery or special treatment, and the scar was barely visible with my pale skin tone. Only someone looking for it would notice it.

My eyes scanned over my neat scrawl, although more than half of it was crossed out. These were my plans for the future. While creating a physical copy of it certainly had its privacy risks, the benefits outweighed them in allowing me to record my ideas and organize my thoughts, even if I scribbled most of them out a few seconds after writing them when I realized how dumb they were. For a small safety measure and my own ease, I had written them in English.

Rather than plans, though, it was more like a list of things to avoid and assorted musings about random parts. I still had no grand plan— where to even start with all this? Just continuously coming up with dangers made the thought of concocting a plan that satisfied all those constraints even more daunting.

A realization hit me as I continued to skim over my notes, and I quickly flipped to the front and jolted down a new point at the end of a growing list of similarly critical warnings: if Baji didn't die, then Takemichi wouldn't become the 1st Division Captain. That was going to be a mess to work around. But there was no way this one in particular could be avoided, as his death was directly linked to it. While I did need to consider the impact changing the events would cause, a future where no one died was leagues more preferable to a few developments playing out differently.

The tip of my pen hovered above the page at the next line as wordless thoughts lapped at the edge of my mind, their still far-off murky waters giving both a sense of security and foreboding.

But I set my pen down and gently closed my notebook to not draw suspicion to it as Youko appeared at the doorway to my room. "Sorry to disturb you," she began, "but how about we take a walk outside a little earlier today? The weather's quite nice, and if there's anywhere you want to stop by, we can go together."

"Oh, sure. I...I'd like to stop by a bookstore." Besides wanting to escape from the house, I had an overabundance of free time at the moment, which would likely continue after summer break, even with tutoring Hayato. There was no benefit to spending that time only stressing over Toman 24/7. I'd probably be staying in this world for a while, and I could use that time to actually learn some skills that could be helpful for my not-yet-started programming job. I had little else to do, and the concept of 'work' now had a strange allure to it.

I'm going mad, if I'm not mad already.

"Then, to make up for keeping you in during your summer break, I'll pay for you," my host mother offered. "Within reasonable limits, of course. I'm not going to buy you an entire library, no matter how hard you try to persuade me."

"It's..." Why are you hesitating, me? It's free money! "Thank you."

After a farewell to Shigeru, Youko and I left the house at a steady pace. I readjusted my fake glasses as I squinted past the bright sunlight. The weather had started to cool down as August came to a close, but relative to the summers back in LA, it still felt like the sun was trying to commit murder by arson. I tugged down the neck of my white blouse, already sweating after only a few minutes outside. But my host mother walked beside me with a pleasant expression, unbothered in her loose sweater and trousers. This lady was made out of something different, I swear.

"Youko-san!" a middle-aged woman passing by called from the other side of the street, her arms full of groceries. My host mother greeted them back with an equally cheery wave. That was the third person to call out to her since we'd left the house. It was as if my host mother knew everyone, but considering her personality, I could imagine that being the case.

"So, how's tutoring going along? She tells me you've been a great help to Hayato-kun, but you do have enough time for your other things, right?"

"It's alright," I replied. "I'm not too busy, even during school. It was only twice a week."

"That's good to hear. I saw you lazing about in the afternoon a lot, but I wasn't sure if you were bored or procrastinating," she chuckled.

"Haha..." I nervously echoed her laughter. Much of the time I had completed my work and was feeling lazy, although there were some bouts where I just wasn't in the mood to work. Self-care, I liked to call it.

"But if you do have the spare time, another one of my friends asked if you'd tutor her son. She heard about Hayato-kun," Youko explained. "It's alright to refuse if you want to. She'll understand."

Another tutoring session was a fantastic idea. Besides killing time, I'd be able to possibly double my current salary, depending on the negotiated terms. I tapped a finger to my chin as we continued to pass by houses.

"How old is he?" I asked.

"He's a year older than you, but he was held back. She'd like you to review with him, again for math and English."

I considered it further. It'd be nice to escape from Toman and the future every now and then, and spending an hour or so every week with an unrelated student could do that. It depended on the kid, though. While I'd lucked out on Hayato (and simultaneously drew a dud— why was it someone from Toman?), if the student was unbearable to be around, then I'd definitely not enjoy it.

"What's his name?" Perhaps I knew them from school. I couldn't recall hearing of anyone forced to repeat a year, but it wasn't exactly something you'd advertise.

"Baji Keisuke."

I stumbled and nearly crashed into the utility pole. However, I felt very tempted to turn back a few paces and repeatedly bash my head into it until the world became right again.

Alas, it was broken from the very start.

"Woah." Youko laid a hand on my shoulder to steady me. "Are you alright?"

No, that bombshell you just nonchalantly dropped has obliterated my remaining shred of sanity. Baji? What the fuck? Of all people, another delinquent? And of all delinquents, him?! That violent dude who apparently started fights and lit cars on fire without rhyme or reason? The car part was probably an exaggeration, but the fact I could easily imagine him breaking open a tank of gasoline, dousing it over some rich dude's car, and tossing a lit match over his shoulder as he sauntered away, the fiery explosion billowing out from behind him outlining his silhouette in red— too much detail. Delinquents did tend to perform less than stellar in school, so it wasn't unfathomable that I'd be asked to tutor another. And Baji did get held back, I recalled.

I hate the fact that this makes sense...

"So, how about it?" she continued. "Do you think you can squeeze another session in? If you can't, it's no problem."

Besides my initial abhorrence at the idea, it...actually was an opportunity. I could get a gauge on the situation on his side by observing his mood and asking carefully-worded questions. Also, I could try to understand him better. While less of a priority, knowing how he acted would help me better predict what he'd do in the future, if I somehow managed to save him.

Yeah, but isn't this the most unpredictable guy that Mikey knows?

And that was exactly why I should at least attempt to comprehend him and his logic.

Also, isn't he meant to be an excellent actor, capable of fooling both allies and enemies alike in pretending to defect?

...well, he'd hopefully let down his guard around little ol' me, who was completely unrelated. And hopefully not find out I was part of Toman. And hopefully not beat me black and blue when he did. No one had found out yet, or at least no one had said anything about it. I mentally shrugged before coming to a decision.

"Alright, I'll take it."

Youko smiled, a little relief visible. "I'll tell her that. She's been worried over Keisuke-kun for a while now. I'll give you her phone number when we get back home so you can hash out the details, okay?" I hummed in consent.

She suddenly switched topics. "Oh! How's your new phone treating you?"

Ack. "It's great. Thank you. Um, I'm really sorry about that..."

"It's alright." She sighed with a smile. "Both the first time and the second— I'm just glad you're safe. A broken phone is nothing in comparison. But, ideally..." she paused. "If you hadn't gotten hurt either time, that would have been the best."

I didn't know how to reply to that.

"It's fine, it's fine," Youko comforted as she patted my back in the uncomfortable silence. "Don't stress yourself out over it. You'll start looking like me, fifty years too early." She chuckled.

She didn't bring it up after that, and we continued to chat as I followed her to a bookstore. Just past the residential district was a cemetery, the tidy rows of dull gravestones rising out of the paved lot. A small shrine sat at the other end of the graveyard, backed by neatly pruned trees. It appeared to be vacant, from what I could see past the railing from the opposite side of the street. Scratch that, there was somebody praying at one of the graves—

I faltered.

Toman's President, Sano Manjirou, sat in front of a gravestone with his eyes closed and mouth set in a neutral line. I hadn't had as knee-jerk a reaction as Baji being brought up was, but I still hadn't expected to come across Mikey here, praying to a deceased family member or friend.

"Hm? Is something the matter?"

I looked to Youko with an apologetic smile. "No. Sorry, I was just distracted. Let's keep on going." I turned my back on my leader and strode away alongside my host mother.

I faintly heard a motorcycle roar in the distance, my chest somehow reverberating from its deep, guttural howls, but perhaps it was just the sound of my sanity trying to put itself back together again after having been wrangled and strangled ever since being teleported into a manga.

---

"Good morning, Blake-chan," Hina greeted after I entered the classroom and sunk into my chair.

"Good morning," I replied mid-yawn. The entire world veered right, and I steadied myself on my desk. I'd gotten used to sleeping in over break, and getting out of bed this morning had been an arduous struggle. In the end, the smell of breakfast had been enough incentive to drag myself downstairs. I licked my lips, tasting salted salmon.

We were still wearing the summer school uniforms after summer break, a short-sleeved blouse replete with a striped tie and gray skirt for girls and black trousers for boys.

A glimmer of silver peeking under the collar of her shirt caught my eye. A necklace?

She caught me staring and pulled it out from under her blouse to properly display. It was a pretty trinket, a metallic four-leaf clover dangling from a delicate silver chain. The green gems inlaid in the leaves of the pendant glittered. I instantly recognized it. "Takemichi-kun gave this to me a few weeks ago." She smiled as she watched it bob.

"That's nice of him."

"Mhm." Hina tucked it back under her shirt. "But I first wanted to ask if you were alright. You had a family emergency, right? Is everything fine?"

My host parents had told me they'd given the excuse I was visiting the US on account of a sudden family emergency while I was recovering. In Hina's case, it worked in my favor because I didn't want her to know I'd been injured and possibly associate that with me being in the Toman fight. While she was a kind-hearted girl who I doubted would rat me out and get me sent back to America for delinquency, I couldn't be absolutely certain she'd completely keep my secret. And it would very likely change our current relationship. We weren't quite the closest of friends, but Hina was a friend I did care about, and I didn't want to break that bond.

"Yeah, don't worry about it." I kept my tone light. "It resolved itself out. But thanks for the concern."

"That's a relief."

Oh yeah, while we still had a few minutes until class..."Before I forget, I changed my phone number. My SIM card. This is my new one." I lifted my phone out of the front pocket of my handbag and navigated to the correct screen before handing it to Hina. The girl set it down on her desk as she dutifully copied the number down onto hers, and she passed mine back when she finished.

"Why, though?" she curiously asked as she stowed away her phone.

Alongside receiving a new phone, I'd taken the opportunity to purchase a new SIM card for a second number right before school started again. As Hayato had first demonstrated, using the same phone number was a risky play, especially if I became acquainted with more people who knew both my identities and might ask for my number. Since nearly three-fourths of my contacts were from Toman (depressingly enough), I was using my old number for the gang. Perhaps it seemed a little excessive, but it was these kinds of minute and easily-overlooked details that could expose me.

— that was my reason, but I'd forgotten to create one I could actually give to others.

"It...broke."

"Oh, that's unfortunate. Good thing you were able to get a new one." She accepted my excuse with a smile.

...okay, then.

Her clothes rustled as she leaned in and suddenly began to talk in a hushed tone. "Hey, do you think it'd be weird if I gave Takemichi-kun a matching necklace? I just happened to find the store he bought it from, and I kinda want to give him something back."

The girl sitting in front of us, who had apparently been eavesdropping, swiveled around in her chair with enthusiasm. I recognized her as one of Hina's friends. "As I said, matching accessories are cliche! And I doubt Hanagaki-kun would wear it anyway; you know how boys are." A few nearby students curiously watched us.

"Not so loud!" Hina hissed, her cheeks flushed.

"The whole grade knows you two are a thing. No need to be so shy over it," the other girl teased.

"True," I added. Hina shot me a betrayed look while still profusely blushing. "But as for the gift, if you want to get matching necklaces, go for it. I'm sure he'd treasure any gift you gave him. So what if it's not the most original idea? It's the feelings you express through a gift that matter. And besides, finding the same store he bought it from already shows effort on your part. Give him what you want to give him."

The other girl whistled. "Nicely put. But, I mean, have you ever seen him, Myers-chan?"

Takemichi was a delinquent that frequently showed up tardy, had bleached hair, hung out around other delinquents, came to school injured a lot, acted coolly around the other students, etcetera, etcetera. But he was the embodiment of the phrase "appearances could be deceiving": no one loved Hina more than him.

"Yeah, a few times," I replied. "But I'm certain he'd wear it. Just a hunch."

"Wow, that's quite confident for a hunch," Hina's friend commented. "Anything you're not telling us?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Hina coughed.

"No, I just—"

"Myers. Could I talk to you outside for a bit?"

Sendou Atsushi from the neighboring class imposingly stood beside my desk, his pompadour drooping slightly as he peered down at me with a serious expression.

Uhh...about what, exactly? He'd caught me completely off-guard. This was "Blake's" first time talking with him. My mouth remained frozen as one of Takemichi's delinquent friends continued to stare, his thoughts unreadable.

"Don't mind us and go talk with him," Hina encouraged after a few silent seconds. And there went my excuse because I took too long. Although, I was curious about what he wanted to discuss.

I got off my chair and followed him out of the room. He seemed strangely tense, his shoulders hunched slightly and his gait stiff. The issue was clearly bothering him. I kept my pace a few steps behind him.

Atsushi stopped at the end of the hallway. With about a minute or two until class started, most students had already returned to their classrooms. Regardless, he'd felt the need to take precautions by bringing me all the way here instead of simply doing it right outside the room. Either he had something serious to say or was about to beat me up for no discernable reason, although considering what I knew of him, I doubted it was the second. What did he want to discuss? I fiddled with the position of my fake glasses.

"So, what did you want from me, Sendou-kun? That's your name, right?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah. Sendou Atsushi," he said. But he struggled over his next words. He almost seemed...nervous. The feeling was mutual, buddy.

"Class is going to start soon, so..." I tilted my body away from him and took a step back to the classroom, clearly conveying my desire to leave.

And then he finally mustered up the willpower to blurt out what had been bothering him:

"You're Frank, aren't you? You're in Toman."

My eyes widened as I twitched in place, but I managed to stifle a gasp and loosen my instinctively clenched fists. I struggled to control my reaction under his narrowed, heather eyes.

It was the Toman and Moebius battle, wasn't it? I'd taken a huge risk in forgoing my hooded jacket when I gave it to Draken to help stem his bleeding, and although I thought it'd worked out, apparently it hadn't. I'd been so much more anxious about the 'major characters' finding out that I'd neglected to consider the others. But they were real people, too. They had their own motivations, personalities, and perspectives, just like the 'main cast.'

What should I do? Deny it obviously, but how? If it was merely speculation on his part, he wouldn't have confronted me this boldly. How could I manipulate this situation to convince him to drop his suspicion?

The bell rang over the intercom and echoed in the empty hallway, snapping me out of my thoughts. Shit. How long had I been silent? Saying nothing was as obvious an indicator of guilt. Rather than continuing to internally debate over how to react, I had to do something.

"Sorry, I was tired and kind of...blanked out for a second. I'm not sure what you're talking about. 'Toman'? Do you mean that gang that's around here?" I pushed my glasses up as I rubbed my eyes to try and sell my act, although more forcefully than I intended. They watered.

He suddenly grabbed my wrist and flipped it over so that my palm was facing up, revealing a faint yet undeniable scar across my fingers. I wrenched my arm out of his grip after I realized what he'd tried to do, but the damage had been done. I'd completely forgotten about my scars and unintentionally drawn his attention to my hand when I tried to lie to him. What a clumsy mistake.

"You are Frank. That's from when you grabbed the knife."

To save you, bastard. But even if I had another chance, I would've still done the exact same. This was rapidly spiraling out of my control. Could I salvage it?

Atsushi continued to talk through my silence. "I was too distracted during the fight to notice, but I thought your face looked familiar. And then I remembered when I passed by you in the hallway earlier. You're part of Toman," he concluded. His gaze was steady.

Nothing I said would convince him otherwise, and the best I could do was minimize the damage. I needed him to stay quiet. There was a way to ensure his silence, and it didn't bode well with me, but keeping my identity secret was critical. I closed my eyes with a sigh and reopened them, my brows now lowered and mouth set in a scowl as I glowered at him through narrowed eyes.

"Yeah, I'm part of Toman," I drawled in as steely a voice I could muster. The slightly taller boy took a step back and tensed at the sudden change, his arms raised defensively. "If you couldn't tell, that wasn't something I wanted public. So you better not spread it, you hear me?"

Atsushi drew in a rattling breath. "I do. But...if you cause trouble here, I won't let you get away with it. Hurt any one of my friends, and I'll kill you," the boy threatened in turn despite his wavering voice. Man, I really feel like a stone-cold bastard right now.

"I won't unless they give me a reason to." Honestly, I'd probably lose in a bout with how little experience I had, and Atsushi knew that too after fighting beside me, but it wasn't me he was wary of. It was Toman. Especially considering how Kiyomasa and his followers had previously tormented them.

I let my expression lighten up. "I'm not here to start trouble, so don't be so stressed over it. Just treat me normally and pretend this conversation never happened, alright?"

"O-okay. I—"

"Hey, Akkun!" someone called from down the hallway. Atsushi stiffened as he stared past me.

Takemichi sauntered up in his school uniform with his hands in his pockets, his blond hair gelled back as normal. "What're you doing all the way over here with Myers-san? Mornin'," he casually drawled. It was his past-self.

"I..." Atsushi trailed off as he shot me a worried glance. "It's nothing." Could you lie a bit more convincingly?

"I wanted to ask him something," I said, my normal voice sounding weirdly chipper in comparison. "And good morning, Hanagaki-kun."

The actually-14-years-old-inside boy blinked as he considered something. "Hey...don't tell me..." He took his friend by the shoulder and herded him a few steps away to the window, where he started to whisper. I could still hear every word that passed between them, though.

"Don't tell me she asked you out? Eyy, Akkun finally got confessed to. So, what did you say?"

"Wha—no, that's not what happened—"

"I confessed to him," I interjected before he could say anything further. The two boys broke out of their huddle, Takemichi's grin growing in direct proportion to Atsushi's horror. "But he turned me down." The two of us knew it was a lie, so I didn't feel embarrassed to say it. There wasn't any real consequence to pretending that had happened, and it should be an effective diversion. Just like from my own middle school years, love and dating seemed to be a huge deal among them.

...on second thought, this fake confession would somehow come back to haunt me. I just knew it.

"Eh? You refused her?" Oi. Eyes up here, Takemichi.

I shot Atsushi a look. "Yeah," he laughed without any real mirth in his voice. "I wasn't really interested."

The two boys started back side-by-side, chattering along the way. I stayed behind and stared at their backs as I processed the recent developments, frowning slightly. I really had been discovered, but hopefully I was able to prevent it from spreading. But if he'd recognized me, it was very much possible that someone else had from that night, too. And more people would undoubtedly continue to while I sustained this act.

Atsushi glanced at me from over Takemichi's shoulder. It was brief, lasting no more than a second, but we made eye contact.

He nodded.

The boy who'd found out my secret split from Takemichi and disappeared into his classroom.

---

I checked the clock in the plaza as I exited the archway of the station, a small rectangular parcel in hand. Ten minutes early to the meet. I let my pace slow to a stroll, the red jacket tied at my waist swinging with each step. I'd gotten another replacement phone a few days ago since the last one got waterlogged, but I still felt kind of bad with how fast I was burning through them, so I left it at home as a precaution. However, I'd seen the message sent through the 2nd Division's group chat.

"Hey, isn't that that Frank dude?" I perked up as I heard whispering among the hustle of people leaving the station. Several meters away was a group of teenage boys around my age, lounging on a set of benches. What drew my attention was their permed hair, dyed in various colors and crafted in bold styles. I made a show of picking lint off my dark shirt as I stopped to eavesdrop on them.

"Foreign features, gelled-back hair, and a half-plaid jacket? Yeah, it's gotta be him." I shifted self-consciously as they scrutinized me, but I kept my face neutral. If I was a kid inside again, I'd be blushing like the schoolgirl that I was.

"Frank? Who's that?" a third boy asked.

"Y'know, the person who helped Takemichi save Draken at that big fight last month."

"Oh yeah! So that was his name. I heard he spooked Draken into not fighting."

"Draken? That Vice-President of Toman? No way."

"No, I also heard that. He took down someone with a knife bare-handed."

"I was there," a familiar voice interjected. I peeked over. Huh, it was Yamagishi, Takemichi's gang-nerd friend. "Akkun and him took Aka down together. I already told you this, you're getting your facts wrong! And then, I took down my opponent by a backhand chop to the neck like woocha! and rushed in to help defeat the rest of Kiyomasa's gang—"

"Apparently, he grabbed the knife with his hands and pulled it out of the dude's hands."

"Wait, didn't he get stabbed in the stomach but still continue fighting?"

"I was there! Are you guys listening to me?"

"I think I heard something about that, too. He took down 30 Moebius members while with a knife in his gut and after being hit in the head by a metal bat."

"Seriously?! Oh my god, Toman's got another monster."

"LISTEN TO ME, DAMMIT!"

Alright, I was drawing the line there. I turned on my heel and started for them before the rumors could become any more convoluted, but they tensed up as they saw me approaching (Yamagishi letting out a gasp so loud that he choked) and

...bolted away as if they'd seen the yawning gates of hell.

I stared after their fleeing backs and let my outstretched hand drop. The buzz would die off in time so it shouldn't be an issue, but it was good to know what was currently being spread about me among the younger delinquent circles.

Man, I felt powerful.

I wanted to raise my standing, so perhaps it was to my benefit I was starting to become recognized. But there was an associated risk of also being recognized as Blake and vice-versa in proportion to how well-known I became. Being discovered by Atsushi had made me actively anxious about it, but all I could really do was be more careful. I'd told Hayato I could arrive at this meet by myself to try to minimize any accidents that revealed my identity, especially since he had all the pieces already (and somehow hadn't put them together already), and I wasn't going to continue to count on luck for it to stay secret.

I checked the time again and hurried away towards the meeting spot. Under the summer sun my hands began to sweat, and I switched the package I was holding to my other hand.

The traffic light switched red, and I joined the crowd of pedestrians across the crosswalk. As the city center and with how densely populated Tokyo was, hundreds of people milled about the tall shops, doing their Sunday afternoon business. I strode away along the sidewalk and towards the less-busy areas. The noise of the passing cars and the restless chatter arising from the massive crowd had faded away as I went around the perimeter of the town library. I double-checked the directions I'd written on a notecard and scanned my surroundings.

A motorcycle on the other end of the street roared noisily as it swerved around the corner. That was a good indicator. I crossed the road and headed in the same direction.

There was a small park just past the turn, bordered by a fence on one end and trees on the other. Roughly ten motorcycles were parked at the edge of the street, each displaying the manji symbol on some part of them. I could distinguish Mitsuya's, Hayato's, Hakkai's, and...Peh-yan's, with its gaudy but distinctive leopard-print. He'd joined the 2nd Division. I stared at it with a contemplative expression. Things had gotten pretty heated between us, and although he should be calmer now, I wasn't looking forward to seeing him again. Well, I'd have to face him someday.

Pretty much the entire 2nd Division had assembled in casual clothing at a shady spot under a clump of trees, several at the two picnic tables, the rest sitting on the hard-packed dirt. At one of the tables, beside his Captain, was the man today's get-up was held for. Peh-yan and Hayato sat together on the ground at the edge of the gathering.

"Hey, Frank!" Hakkai called as I entered the lot. "Almost thought you weren't coming." The other boys looked over for a moment, a few giving me their own greetings, before resuming their conversations.

I gave a small wave as I approached the sitting boy. "Sorry for being a bit late. I wouldn't want to miss your birthday."

Today, September 4th, was Hakkai's birthday. I hadn't originally known since it'd never come up in the manga, but Mitsuya had posted a notice in the division chat group, reminding them of the day and trying to settle on a meeting place and time. Hakkai had tried to say it wasn't necessary, but it seemed everyone else thought the opposite, as evidenced by the full participation.

"Eh, don't worry about it. Thanks for coming to my birthday." He grinned at me, although his gaze drifted off to the side with an awkward chuckle.

"It seems everyone's here," Mitsuya commented. "Let's properly start this, then." He cleared his throat loudly, and everyone quieted down to listen to their Captain.

"We're here today to celebrate Hakkai's birthday, as you all know. Let's start with the cake before it spoils. You three bought it, right?" Hayato and two other boys got up and walked to the table Hakkai was at, Hayato setting down a cake box that I hadn't previously noticed in front of Hakkai. One of the other boys unloaded a bag of paper plates, plastic forks, and candles beside it.

"Yup, we got it," Hayato replied as he unfolded the box to reveal a circular white cake resting inside, a fair size at about 15 centimeters in diameter. Swirls of whipped cream and halved strawberries neatly bordered the rim of the cake in an alternating fashion, and the clear glaze coating the fruits glistened. The three boys got to work carefully setting candles across the cake. "This is our gift to you, Hakkai," one boy said after lighting each with a lighter.

"Thank you." Hakkai straightened up from his slouch as he addressed the three of them by their names.

And then the twenty members of the 2nd Division sans Hakkai stood up and began to sing.

It was one of the rowdiest birthday songs I'd ever participated in, with what sounded like twenty different keys being sung together to create a harsh-sounding dissonance. Everyone sang a different melody and rhythm, adding an out-of-tune echo effect to the already maddening noise. Factoring in that they were singing in English, as there was no Japanese equivalent...well they were trying, but as an American and native speaker, hearing the familiar song convoluted almost beyond recognition made me die a little inside, even if it was the same four words being repeated over and over. Perhaps there was a really talented singer somewhere in the racket, but he was buried under a load of crap. Apparently, teenage boys couldn't sing. Or maybe they just didn't care enough to try. I sang the last word hoarsely.

But despite my bleeding ears, there had been an unmatched liveliness to it. And that was the purpose of celebrating birthdays, wasn't it? To commemorate the person's birth and give thanks to their existence. In that aspect, it was unparalleled.

Absolute silence followed the end of the song as we watched Hakkai take a breath and gently blow out the candles, the flames fizzing out into trails of smoke. The boys erupted into cheering and applause, me joining in the latter.

"Thank you, everyone, but you really didn't need to do this for me," the birthday boy said once the noise had subsided.

"Stop thanking us so much, Hakkai," Mitsuya chided from beside him. "You deserve at least this much."

"Yeah!" one boy piped up. "You're getting another one next year whether ya like it or not, right, guys?" From the noise of twenty boys speaking over each other, the overwhelming consensus appeared to be a hell yes.

"Hey, how come you guys didn't cake him?" Hayato loudly whined from beside Hakkai.

"C'mon, dude," said one of the other boys who had bought the cake. He'd started cutting it and distributing the slices onto paper plates. "We bought you an extra cake for that. And your expression was hilarious." He handed the first slice to Hakkai, who accepted it with a grateful nod. "I've still got the video, if anyone wants to see it again."

"Ooh, me!"

"Me too!"

Hayato observed the crowd's eagerness with a twitching smile. "...'kay, I'll admit it was funny. But could I have a warning next time?"

"No way. Then there's no point."

"WHY, YOU—" He took a step toward the plates of cake and reached slowly for one, the threat clear. But the boy cutting the cake took the plate and handed it to Mistuya, who gave a small thanks, casually broke off a chunk with his fork, and started eating with a deadpan expression. Hayato stood there frozen, his arms still outstretched.

I chuckled among the 2nd Division's laughter, even Hakkai giggling around a mouthful of cake as his Captain continued to chew as if nothing had happened. I saw the end of Hayato's lips twitch upwards for an instant, but he resumed his dumbfounded look and posed in place for several more seconds before sulking back into the crowd.

The 2nd Division members each went up to congratulate the birthday boy and formed a crowd around him. Rather than immediately swarm him as the others were doing and trying to speak over them, I'd wait until he was less occupied.

But about Hakkai, though. My face fell. I had decided to diverge from the story, and that meant that I wasn't restrained from acting out. But that didn't imply I could arbitrarily do as I pleased. The boy's timid behavior in response to having his birthday celebrated was more than simply modesty, it was a glimpse into something more serious.

I watched him laugh carefreely at some joke one of the boys told him, his posture relaxed as he spoke with his friends. It was fine to ignore Hakkai's situation for now, wasn't it? It was only a temporary measure, but he seemed happy at the moment. I wanted to help, but how could I even approach it? It was definitely a volatile subject, and I didn't want to aggravate it. I sighed.

"What's with the long face?" I turned around as Hayato walked up to me with two plates of uneaten cake, followed by Mitsuya, who was halfway through his. Hayato seemed unbothered after that little act. "Here. Have some cake."

"Thanks." I crammed the parcel I was holding the entire time into my jacket pocket before accepting the plate he offered me. I hadn't had cake since back home, with my actual family. My eyes wandered over the slice of cake, its cross-section exposed.

Below the first light layer of the cake itself was another sheet of frosting, the sliced strawberries neatly embedded into it adding a vibrant touch of color. A thin, ruby layer of something with the viscosity of jam cut underneath the second layer of cake. But did its taste match its aesthetic? I took the plastic fork balanced on the plate and stuffed a small bite of cake into my mouth.

In the golden sky, tinted orange as it kissed the horizon, fluffy clouds of whipped cream drifted on the seaside breeze, carrying with it a heady whiff of vanilla. Ruby strawberries swooped down gracefully from the heavens with white, gently-curved wings as the delicate chords of a harp resounded from above. I dreamily watched them soar over my head as I sat along the coastline, the beige sand soft under my fingers and slightly moist. The ocean, a dazzling yellow from the sunset, lapped at my heels, and the small red fruits bobbing in the water tickled my toes as if trying to seduce me to give in to my temptation and let myself be swept away—

My fork uselessly ploinked against my empty plate, shattering my paradise and bringing me back to the cruel reality.

"Told you, Mitsuya, he really likes his food."

"...I thought you were joking, but yeah, that's not normal."

I doubted he'd somehow slipped LSD into my slice, but the vividness of that scenery was a testament to how divine it tasted. "Hayato, where'd you guys buy the cake from?"

"There's a bakery right next to the nearby station. This one was a bit pricey, though, but it was definitely worth it." Hayato shot a glance back at the birthday boy. "There's a few leftover slices, if you want more."

"No, it's alright." It was their gift to Hakkai, and I didn't want to monopolize it. If I ate another bite, I wouldn't be able to stop myself.

Mitsuya had also finished his slice in the time I'd zoned out. "Anyway, you suddenly cut off communication after the battle. Mikey told me you were alright, but did something happen?" I stiffened up but forced myself to relax. His question didn't necessarily indicate he knew who I was. Thinking about it rationally, only the people who knew me as 'Blake' could potentially link my identities from that battle, such as Takemichi and his friends. Mitsuya was just concerned. I was overly paranoid after that confrontation with Atsushi.

"My phone got soaked from the rain and stopped working, and it took a while for me to buy a new one," I truthfully replied.

Mitsuya hummed. "I see. Unfortunate that it broke. I'm assuming your number's still the same, right?"

"It is. The SIM card didn't get waterlogged, so I was able to switch it over to my new phone."

"I hope your parents didn't get too mad at you," Hayato said.

"They were...unexpectedly kind about it. They only placed me on house arrest until I fully recovered." The Ito couple had honestly surprised me with how gentle and uninvasive they'd been. While they really should've been more concerned and tried to get to the bottom of why I'd come home so battered, I appreciated the respect and trust they granted me by not doing so. Youko continued to act as kind as ever, although Shigeru had started to stare at me wordlessly ever so often, as if absorbed in thought. Concern, possibly.

"That's good." He grinned.

"Anyway, thanks for saving Draken." My Captain nodded. "Sorry that I snapped at you at the battle, I was somewhat high-strung at the time."

"Yeah, thanks for that!" Hayato chimed in again. "Really saved Toman, there."

"It's mainly thanks to Takemichi," I said. It was also thanks to the entirety of Toman for holding Moebius off that we were even able to escape. If it'd been any other member in my position, I knew they would've tried to protect their Vice-President, too. My actions hadn't been anything special.

"That doesn't matter. You all saved Draken. That's the important part."

I shifted under their earnest stares. "Well, I'm relieved he's still alive, too." My gaze roamed about, watching the various members of the 2nd Division chatter. And then my eyes met Peh-yan's, who openly stared back at me with unusual intensity. His expression was set in a neutral frown, but he didn't blink for ten full seconds and continued to maintain eye contact.

"I'm...going to talk with Peh-yan," I said.

"Bye." / "See ya." The pair returned to their conversation.

Peh-yan did not budge from his spot as I disposed of my trash on the small but growing pile of finished plates at one of the tables before walking over to him. He continued to stare at me as he'd been doing for the past minute (and possibly even longer).

I childishly stared back. During our impromptu staring competition, I noticed in my peripheral vision that he didn't have a plate in his hands. Perhaps he'd already finished.

He clearly wanted to talk to me for some reason, but his face revealed nothing. He didn't seem angry, he didn't seem happy, he just seemed...contemplative. That was still leagues better than what I expected of our first meeting since the Moebius fiasco, though.

"Is something wrong?" I asked about twenty seconds in. My eyes were starting to water, but I kept them open.

The silence that greeted me was colder and longer than the Ice Age. Part of it may have been because I could feel my eyeballs drying out each second, but Peh-yan's lack of response and movement was starting to make me feel as if time had stopped. The leaf that drifted down from the overhead tree and flicked me in the eye reassured me opposite.

"Arghh..." I broke away from his stare with a mangled groan and scrunched my eyes shut, face pulled tight in a grimace. Not the eyes, not the eyes! My vision was still a perfect 20-20 unlike my original body, but bad vision in no way compared to no vision at all. I was likely overacting in my panic, but the fear was genuine. Curse you, tree.

"Sorry for trying to hit you earlier."

I blearily peeked over at Peh-yan, who'd finally spoken. An apology was the last thing I expected from the hot-headed boy, and coming from him, it was significant. Honestly though, I'd been asking to get punched when I confronted him at the restaurant.

"It's fine, it's fine," I replied, gently rubbing my eyes. "It didn't actually connect. And I shouldn't have provoked you like that." I blinked a final time before properly focusing on him again. His unyielding expression had softened slightly, although his slanted eyes still gave him a fierce aura.

"No. You were right," Peh-yan continued. "I accused them of betraying Pah-chin, even though they must have also been suffering from leaving him. And it was me in the end who betrayed them." He sighed in exasperation, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Even though Pah-chin told me to take care of the 3rd Division for him, it's all sortta falling apart. I don't have the same power he does, I can't lead them myself. There's not enough people left to form a proper division, and ever since Mikey put all those Moebius members in my Division, it's not been the same. The fuck is he thinking, putting all those bastards that got Pah-chin in trouble in our Division?" he muttered to himself. "I can't stand them. The real 3rd Division members and I agreed to stay in other Divisions and wait until Pah-chin comes back. If he ever does, with how things are now. Wait, why the fuck am I telling you all this?"

I met his gaze after he broke off in grumbling. Most people found it hard to accept when they were mistaken, myself included, yet he was calmly admitting it while maintaining proper eye contact. His straightforward approach in bluntly stating it and not dancing around the topic was respectable.

You did it because you refused to accept Pah-chin's fate, and you were so distraught over it that a certain someone was able to manipulate you to forgo your morals. Even though you sided with Moebius and attempted to kill Draken, I can see how much you care for your Captain. Because of that, I know that you've been trying your hardest to keep the 3rd Division alive. And you have, in spirit. If the remaining members were willing to wait it out with you instead of just leaving the gang temporarily, that's because of your power. You do have the ability to lead them, Peh-yan. It's not your fault.

But I didn't say anything to him. I broke off from his eyes to stare into the distance over his shoulder.

I didn't want to accidentally change this, even though I could see the issue was deeply troubling him. But it wasn't quite like before, where I wasn't acting out of uncertainty. I was intentionally choosing to allow this to occur so that I could take effective action later. With the 3rd Division remaining leaderless for now, Kisaki would take it. While that had its own set of risks, entering completely uncharted territory where Kisaki wasn't the Captain was far more dangerous. And I was doing the same for Hakkai.

But I wouldn't let it be for nothing. I'd use it to achieve a happy future for everyone, even though it left a bad taste in my mouth to manipulate others and take advantage of their suffering.

"You're still here, though, waiting for him in Toman," I finally said. "Don't be so harsh on yourself."

He was first quiet for a few seconds. "We're both in the same division for now, so let's get along."

"Yeah." I looked back to him and tried to smile. "Let's."

"Hey, Peh-yan! You done talking yet?" a member called. A second boy beside him also waited expectantly. In response, Peh-yan abruptly walked away from me without another word to be greeted by friendly chatter from them.

He seemed to have reconciled with the rest of the gang in the time I was out. He at least had people to support him aside from his own division for now. That was a small comfort.

After having talked to Mitsuya, Hayato, and Peh-yan for the past several minutes, although I wasn't quite certain exactly how much time had passed while I was immersed in cake and having a fierce staring match, I checked to see the area around the birthday boy was less crowded, talking to only one other boy as he ate his presumably second slice of cake. Now was a better opportunity than ever.

Upon seeing me approach, the boy talking with Hakkai got up from the bench and gestured for me to take his spot. "Thanks."

He offered me a grin and a farewell to Hakkai, who returned it. I took a seat on the bench perpendicular to his and rested my elbows on the picnic table.

"Happy birthday," I said. "So you're...15 now? 16?"

"14, actually," the six-foot giant paused between bites to say. "And thank you, Frank."

...I'd forgotten he was the same age as Takemichi (and technically me). How bizarre. With his height and physical prowess, he could probably carry his team in any sport he chose. What career path would he take in the future?

The silence between us extended for a minute. Hakkai and I weren't particularly close; we'd meet each other every now and then at the few Toman gatherings I'd attended so far, but aside from my welcome party and the time he'd caught me dancing, we didn't interact. Hakkai was just a naturally friendly guy, although he seemed considerably more timid today. It was his birthday, and everyone was expressing their thanks to him. I could partly understand his uncertainty in how to properly react, although his awkwardness to the experience implied this may have genuinely been a foreign concept to him. I observed him busily eating his cake.

If neither Hakkai nor I could find anything in particular to talk about, why not do something to spark a conversation and help him relax a bit? I wasn't sure if the others had started with that yet, but it shouldn't be too big an issue if they hadn't.

"Here." I took the box-shaped parcel out of my pocket and slid it on the table towards him, clearly for him to take. His eyes widened marginally, and he put down his fork. After grabbing the package, he hesitated.

"Can I open it?" I nodded. He proceeded to slide a finger under one of the folds and unwrap my gift surprisingly delicately. After removing the paper, he popped open the lid of the flat box and stared down at the revealed gift, his golden earrings twinkling.

It was a black right-handed bowling glove, the underside a navy blue. Aside from the white stripe running diagonally across the back of the palm, it was simple and unpretentious.

It was admittedly hypocritical of me to tell Hina to give her boyfriend a gift based on her own feelings the day right after having bought Hakkai something bowling-related. Even if I'd forgotten his age, I still remembered him meeting Takemichi in the bowling alley upon the time-leaper's return to the past. Or 'present,' technically. Well, Hina's gift was a different kind of gift, for lovers. And practicality was a factor to finding good gifts. Hakkai seemed to be pleasantly surprised, or at least not openly displeased.

"My savings were running a bit low, so I was only able to get you one glove." It'd been one of the more expensive ones to boot, and while I wasn't some bowling-glove connoisseur or whatever, I was blindly trusting that price equaled quality. "I, uh, hope you're right-handed. If not, I think I can return it for the other one..." Hopefully.

"T-thank you." He regained his words and looked back at me, although he still held the box in his hands, as if freezing up upon uncertainty of how to react. "And yeah, I'm right-handed. How'd you find out I liked bowling?"

"One of the other boys mentioned it," I lied.

"Really?" He sounded distracted as he looked back down at it again. "Well, would you...maybe like to come bowling with me sometime?"

"Bowling's not really my thing, so I'll pass," I honestly admitted.

"Oh."

And then there was silence again, only this time the awkwardness was ten-fold as Hakkai eventually closed up the gift and started to eat again with stiff shoulders, as if trying to find something to do that would excuse him from talking.

Did I just make it worse?

Worse in a good way. The boy had been previously bashful about having his birthday celebrated, and to try and help make him feel more comfortable by starting a conversation, I'd given him a gift.

You idiot. How dense are you?

I liked to think I was rather perceptive, but there were times where my social skills were as pathetic as a ten-year-old subtle.

Go fix it, then.

"...You offered to train me a while back, if you remember. If it's alright, could we perhaps have a match later? If it's fine with you, of course." The way I saw it, Hakkai was acting timid over being shown a one-sided appreciation. While it was a good thing, he seemed somewhat uncomfortable, so perhaps offering him a way to repay it would help him relax. It wasn't too big a favor to ask, and he'd been the one to bring it up back then, when he'd caught me dancing about a month ago. It was...very manipulative in retrospect, I'd admit.

"Yeah, sure." His posture visibly relaxed. "Even a few times is fine, if I can help."

"Thanks. That really would be a great help." If I was intent on trying to wrench the future in the direction I wanted, I at least needed to be able to hold my own against the average delinquent.

We fell quiet again, but the previously uneasy air had dissipated. While silently keeping him company, I noticed two other boys of the 2nd Division approaching us, likely for their own moment with the birthday boy.

"I'll be going. Bye." I started to stand back up from the picnic bench.

"Y'know, you've changed since I first met you," Hakkai suddenly said.

Hm? I stopped. "How so?"

"You always kinda kept to yourself, although you weren't necessarily cold. Just reserved. But you've opened up and asked for help. I'm happy to see that." He grinned, back to his normal self.

Had I opened up? Well, I admittedly felt more relaxed around the gang, now that he mentioned it. Perhaps it was because I'd properly accepted I was part of Toman after the Moebius fight, after reigniting my goals. Or perhaps they were just rubbing off on me after all this while.

"Well, I still feel a little guilty asking you for a favor on your birthday."

"It's no problem. Don't worry about it."

"Hey Frank, don't try to get a head start on us!" one of the approaching boys chided as he noticed the box. "Gifts are after cake."

I chuckled with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, sorry."

---

While I was trying to not let Hayato catch onto any more than he already had by distancing myself from him a bit, I could not be bothered to trek all the way up to the shrine and back every week for a gang meeting. (It was about a ten-minute walk from the nearest station, but I was lazy.) Hence, my current position atop his bike as we sped down the dark streets, his headlight illuminating the asphalt ahead. We swerved around a corner, and I clung to the seat with white fingers as his bike leaned at a 60 degree angle, which was still 30 degrees below my preferred position. I would never get used to this.

"—"

I pried my eyes off the rain gutter we could've potentially toppled into two seconds ago as I heard Hayato say something over the roaring wind and his bike's muffler. "What?!" I yelled back, leaning in closer to the back of his black uniform. Part of it also may have been because I was wearing a helmet, but I'd probably have gone deaf if I hadn't been wearing one. Perhaps nearly every Toman member refused to properly put a helmet on their headsbecause they didn't want to conform to the traffic laws, but despite that, I still couldn't fathom why not. It's there to protect you. Wear the damn helmet. Please. I stared at the back of Hayato's bare, bald head.

"—bius—meeting—" His voice was drowned out again.

Y'know what? I'm not going to bother. "Just tell me later!" We were only a minute or two away from the meeting place, and it'd be much more effective to talk as civilized people once we'd stopped instead of yelling at each other like cavemen. He shouted something incomprehensible back. I took the liberty to assume it was a 'yes.'

I could see the shrine's enshrouding forest coming closer, their towering trees dark and imposing against the night sky. There were also the growls of other motorcycles, the only thing I could hear over this thunderous noise. It sounded fairly louder than normal, though it was difficult to distinguish any difference while being simultaneously deafened on the back of a motorcycle.

But it hadn't been just my imagination— as we came to a complete stop in the parking lot, I could see several boys in white intermixed with the familiar black-clothed members. And not just a handful, but nearly fifty, half of Toman's current size, loosely keeping to themselves at one end of the assembled delinquents. Toman similarly left them alone, interacting amongst themselves. There was a palpable tension in the air, even though nothing physical had broken out.

"So this is what you wanted to say," I said as I dismounted Hayato's bike.

"Yeah." He stared at the present Moebius members while frowning slightly. "The Prez officially announced they'd be added to the 3rd Division last meeting, and this is the first time we're seeing them here. They are technically part of Toman now, but it's kinda hard to accept, after what they did to Pah-chin." He scratched his head.

Peh-yan had told me earlier about them being integrated into the gang, but it really was a bizarre decision to place them in the 3rd Division. True, most of that division had apparently left and it was currently understaffed, but considering their past history with Pah-chin, I had to question what was going through Mikey's mind, even if it had been at Kisaki's request.

"So, who's the Captain?"

"There isn't one," Hayato replied. "And that's probably better, I guess. It's already really tense, and making one of them a Captain right now might really set some people off." He scanned through the crowd. "I'm gonna go find Peh-yan before anything happens."

"Yeah, you should stop him from doing anything rash." Anyone would snap upon seeing their friend's assailants up close. "See you later." He departed with a casual farewell back, leaving me alone beside his bike.

We'd parked near the entrance of the lot, and members continued to arrive in the several minutes left until the approximate start time. A few of the boys I recognized waved at me or gave short greetings, and I returned them. I still stood out quite significantly in 'Frank's' attire, a clashing crimson and chocolate jacket thrown over a pair of tight-fitting jeans, especially considering how I was the only one out of uniform. I was a fairly recent addition, though: I'd only been in Toman for a few weeks, not counting the month I'd spent confined home. I looked over the unbuttoned cuff of one of my sleeves, the smooth denim gently twisting as I flexed my wrist. I'd started to grow somewhat fond of this jacket after constantly wearing it. Perhaps I'd continue to wear it as casual garb until the winter months rolled around.

Something roughly bumped into my shoulder, and I took a step forward to steady myself. "Sorry," I automatically said as I brought myself out of my musings.

The tall boy in a white tokko-fuku who'd walked into me dismissively continued on to join the herd of Moebius members. I stared at his back for a few seconds, my eyes trailing over the embroidered characters, but he didn't turn. It wasn't a big deal, and there was no point in creating a fuss over it. I could imagine there was a fair amount of spite at joining the gang they'd been defeated by.

I retreated deeper into the parking lot and into the crowd of Toman. Despite our former enemies being several meters away, Toman wasn't acting too far out of the ordinary deeper in. Members chatted and joked with each other, carefree. I walked with no particular destination among the gang. A uproarious chortle from the group of boys I'd just passed had me turn around curiously.

"She caught you cheating again? Well, welcome back to the single's gang, bro. I missed ya."

"It's not funny!" the boy opposite snapped, leaning off his bike. "She's threatening to break up with me!"

"And that's your own fault," another member bluntly stated as he played with his phone. "If you're gonna cheat, then don't get caught, idiot."

"I wasn't cheating. We were just having lunch together!"

"Excuses, excuses. You fucked up big time. Just give up already."

While I could understand they were teasing their friend (and rightfully so), I still felt a small twinge of pity for him. Just a tiny bit.

"If you don't mind me saying..." I spoke up. The cluster of boys collectively swiveled their heads to stare at me, the one who'd been presumably cheating doing so with a hopeful look in his eyes.

"Aren't you the dude who helped Takemitchy...hm. So, what?" the boy who'd earlier laughed said.

"Perhaps you weren't cheating. But you still do need to keep in mind what things you do that could be misinterpreted, since only you can fully understand the situational context," I directed to the boy in question. "If it really is a misunderstanding, then clear it up with her. She hasn't broken up with you already, so she's still got some faith in you. But if it isn't, then making excuses will only make it worse; actions mean more than words. Either commit to her or break up. Anything else would be disrespectful." I'd never had any dating experience myself, but as a girl (woman, technically), that was how I saw it. A relationship required two people, both contributing their share.

"So, do you love her or not?"

A stunned silence greeted my words. "...yeah, I do. But how should I...?"

"That's for you to figure out. Show her she means something to you," I simply said. The boy frowned at my non-answer but did seem somewhat thoughtful.

"Must be nice, being popular..." one of them muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing." I eyed the member who'd spoken with a raised eyebrow but ultimately dropped it. Sensing the end of the conversation, I left with a short farewell.

"1000 yen he gets dumped," I heard someone say just as I passed out of hearing range.

I stopped as I checked the time on my phone, the LED screen bright in the darkness. Still five minutes left. I glanced at the date as well. It was only the first week of September. Draken was usually the one to commence the meeting, but he'd surely still be recovering in the hospital.

I snapped my phone shut as my gaze roamed over the present Moebius members, segregated from Toman. Hayato had mentioned that there currently was no leadership over this new 3rd Division. It seemed to match up with what I remembered— Kisaki would be announced its Captain on the day Takemichi leaped back, which was nearly a month away. His faction of Moebius being integrated into Toman earlier wasn't too alarming. Declaring one of them as a Captain immediately would definitely spark outrage, so allowing the formerly enemy gang to mingle with Toman for a while first would reduce some of the distrust between them.

But where was Kisaki? I couldn't spot the boy's darker skin or signature glasses, although part of it may have been due to the fact he was a boy of actually-normal height among these middle-school giants. The parking lot wasn't well-lit, either. Perhaps he wasn't present, off doing something with the rival gang of this arc. I hadn't heard anything about Valhalla yet, which had supposedly been formed a month ago after the festival fight, although my range of Toman friends didn't really extend past Hayato.

I was not lonely. I was choosing to be alone.

"Finally found you, Frank."

I turned around to see my Vice-Captain emerge out of the crowd. It was a few days after his birthday, and it seemed he was back to his cheery self. "Hey, Hakkai," I returned. I curiously watched the large white bag he was holding swing to a stop.

He held out said bag to me a second later. There was a moment of surprise before I accepted it, one hand at the base of the bag for support. It wasn't as heavy as its size indicated, although I could feel the hard surface of a box at the bottom. I peered into the bag, and my eyes widened.

"Sorry about the delay. Our supplier ran out a little while back, but we got yours in bulk with the other new members. It might be a bit...big, but that was the smallest size they offered."

A black tokko-fuku sat at the top, neatly folded to display the characters embroidered in gold across the breast. I'd never encountered the four-character idiom on the right in my studies, but looking at its components, I could tack together a loose translation of the motto:

Throughout the heavens, I alone am the honored one.

Saying it was bold was a severe understatement. I'd previously just eyed the motto and dismissed it, but now being bestowed my own uniform to proudly showcase those words, I considered them properly.

How grand, the President's vision was. But it simultaneously evoked a twinge of bitterness, with the knowledge that Toman would warp into anything but honorable in the future. The most-feared criminal syndicate in Japan, which had a hand in all sorts of illicit activities and was renowned for its brutal violence.

But if I stop Kisaki, then that won't matter then, will it?

I wasn't idealistic enough to think that preventing Toman from turning dark would eliminate all gang violence in the city. Others would fill the void left in the absence of a top power, and perhaps they would be even more despicable, as a certain amount of order and restraint was needed for a large syndicate to function that smaller groups with less to lose might lack. But I also wasn't idealistic enough to think that crime could ever be completely eliminated.

I remembered seeing the young boy that was our leader sitting peacefully in front of that gravestone, praying to whomever he'd lost. It was such a far cry from the person he would become in the future, but there had been hints of a transition as the series progressed, in the form of a quiet somberness and disconnect from the situation around him.

I vaguely noticed '2nd Division' on the right sleeve as I gently lifted the jacket to see the other contents of the bag. A pair of loose, black pants with a white belt already slotted in and a shoe box that presumably held a pair of white boots to complete the uniform.

Toman looked down on extorting civilians and other underhanded ways of obtaining money, so funds for the gang directly came from its members. I'd paid the fee for my uniform and given my general measurements a while back when I joined, so I'd been expecting to receive mine at some point.

"Thank you."

"No problem," he replied with a smile. "So, finally got your uniform. It's like you're actually a part of Toman now."

"Are you implying I wasn't?" I retorted.

"No. But c'mon, we got a few minutes left. Wear it!" Hakkai urged.

I froze. "...I'll wear it to the next meeting."

"We're all dudes here, no one cares."

It would have been a solid piece of logic if not for the irony of him messing up the most basic assumption. Boys in middle school started changing together in the locker rooms, so there was no need to feel embarrassed about being partially naked among other boys anymore. Provided I was a boy.

"...I care."

Saving everyone while pretending to be a 14-year-old delinquent boy who didn't possess an unearthly knowledge of the future, where a 26-year-old part-timer had taken up the quest of leaping back in time to protect his childhood girlfriend from being repeatedly murdered by a gang by joining said gang.

'Out of this world' was a pretty good way to describe it.

A/N: The uniform motto was taken from the TR wiki.

This chapter is mostly a wrap-up of the Moebius arc, but there's quite a lot of set-up, as you can see. I hope you enjoyed it, nonetheless.

I'm not sure when the next chapter will release, but I'm on break now, so I've got plenty of time to write. Expect it by the end of January at latest.