"Frank! Thanks for that on Sunday. He's finally talking to me again."

"Glad I could help," I returned to the taller boy, his bright expression contrasting the black uniform he wore. "It was only my opinion, though. You didn't need to take me out to lunch."

"I didn't. But I wanted to. And it's done already, so stop complaining about it." He laughed when I bit back another denial before he turned to chat with several other boys.

I resumed slowly walking through the parking lot and peering up at the towering members, my head swiveling in all directions as I scanned through the endless faces. Some of them caught my eyes and waved or called to me, to which I'd respond back before continuing on. But a complimentary feeling of dread weighed in my stomach as I kept on searching, a paradoxical fear of actually finding said person.

Not once had I spotted Kisaki Tetta in the entire three-and-a-half months I'd been in this world, even in the recent two when I'd been actively looking for him. While I knew full well my chances of just spotting him on the streets were slim as hell, I had passively kept an eye on my surroundings. And although a perfectly logical idea was to simply ask one of Moebius for his whereabouts, I ran the risk of him discovering I was searching for him.

But even if I couldn't find him, I'd surely find him by the end of this meeting. No need to tie myself in knots if I couldn't meet him beforehand. You hear that, me? It's okay if I can't, but it'd be ideal if I can. Whatever happens, it's okay, so stop being so jittery. Equal parts fear and relief tingled in my chest.

A long lock of platinum blond hair caught my eye, and I immediately edged behind a clump of boys, who all curiously stared at me ("what the hell are you doing?"). My eyes remained fixated on that tuft of hair, whose owner was... just an ordinary member of Toman.

I sighed as I stepped away from them ("sorry about that"). Emma had seen me as both Frank and myself, even if for only a short time. Yet nothing had happened in the past few months. That was partly since I'd been trying my best to avoid her out of paranoia. Emma did not know. Or maybe she did. But continuing to intentionally keep away from her as both Blake and Frank would conversely appear suspicious. Rude, not to mention.

I should make it up to her sometime as one of them.

Noise rippled through the gang as a group of bikes swerved into the parking lot, and although I could only see their bright headlights through the gaps of the legs of the towering members in front, I had an idea of whom had arrived. The meeting would be starting shortly.

True enough, Draken's voice effortlessly cut through the chatter, and we hurried to line up at the foot of the shrine's gates, our boots stampeding across the concrete.

"Good work, President!"

Three pairs of footsteps passed through the path formed by the gang. Draken and Mikey were the two obvious ones, but who was the third trailing behind? Or to be more specific, which version of him was it? I peeked out from the corner of my eye as they passed, but the blond boy's back told me nothing.

Once the President and Vice-President had passed, the rest of the gang followed them up the stairs onto the plaza in front of the shrine, illuminated by the ample moonlight. I peered up at the full moon. It was rather bright today.

My foot snagged on a stair, sending me crashing face first into the back of the boy in front of me. He didn't fall in turn, but he halted and glared back at me.

"I'm sorry about that," I said as I righted myself on the railing and rubbed my nose. "I tripped."

Now that I had a better look at him, it was the former member of Moebius who'd bumped into me at the first meeting since they'd joined. He now wore the Toman uniform, with "3rd Division" embroidered on his sleeve.

"Don't do it again." He continued up the stairs.

Not polite, but not necessarily rude. It'd been two months, after all. The previous hostilities between the two gangs had mostly faded, and although they weren't exactly buddy-buddy, I did notice more intermingling as more were willing to cross boundaries and open up.

I didn't have a particular issue with them— but I knew that was a lie. We were technically allies now, yet I didn't trust them fully. Not enough to simply ask about Kisaki and for them to not report it to him. It was stupid and judgmental; it wasn't as if they were solely Kisaki's henchmen, dedicating their lives in their loyalty to serve him. They were people, with their own lives and personalities. They weren't bound to unconditionally obey him; they willingly chose to follow Kisaki for some reason of their own. But then they'd be more likely to leak than let him get potentially sabotaged, wouldn't they?

Wow, I'm really on edge today.

And reasonably so. I stepped onto the plaza and took advantage of my slim figure to slip through the crowd, my eyes locked on the shrine.

"Oh, hey. You aren't at the front often," Hakkai remarked as I stopped behind him, only a few meters away from Mikey and Draken, who were waiting atop a secondary plaza that served as a stage. Our leader wore an impassive face, his dark eyes staring over the crowd.

"I was curious about the nomination ceremony," I replied. So curious, in fact, that I just might do something stupid.

"Yeah, it's not something that happens everyday. Time goes by, and the gang changes. It feels kinda weird, in a way," he admitted. "We're all part of the first gen; none of us had ever left. And then now we're getting a new Captain to replace Pah-chin. Not to diss on the new guy, whoever he is," he was quick to add.

While his statement wasn't entirely accurate, that wasn't the point. "It is a little sad, even if I didn't personally know him too well." He hummed back in response.

"The nomination for the Tokyo Manji gang's 3rd Division Captain will now begin!" Draken boomed from the platform. The small-talk that had arisen among the members quickly died down, and we all silently stood, waiting.

Mikey wasted no time. "3rd Division Captain! Come forward!"

Absolute stillness met his call. Hushed muttering broke out after a few tense seconds, many members unable to bear it. "Who is it?" Hakkai muttered and looked behind us. I swallowed and fingered the sleeves of my uniform.

"Get out of the way!" a lone voice bellowed above the whispering. Heads turned around me, but I kept my gaze locked on the ground as my heart skipped a beat and reverberated in my ribcage. I placed a hand on my chest as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Calm down, me. Why am I so nervous?

A pair of boots rasped by on the concrete only meters away, and I scrunched my eyes shut. Only once they had passed did I slowly reopen them to see the new 3rd Division Captain and his subordinate reach the foot of the stage and plop down on a step.

"The new 3rd Division Captain, Kisaki Tetta!" the standing boy announced.

No death god hovered above Kisaki Tetta's shoulder, nor did any blood viscously drip from his bronze fingers as he glowered at the gang from his hunched position, eyebrows arched over his rectangular glasses. His short, bleached hair was styled back to expose his forehead and the lone earring hanging from his left ear. He was human— as human as any other in this world— yet also inhumane, to ruthlessly kill in pursuit of his motives.

But that was Kisaki, top admin of the criminal gang Toman. Right now, he was just a boy, a boy with great ambitions, but a boy who had not been proven to do anything wrong. Yet.

"Arrogant ass." A boy beside me clicked his tongue. Similar simmering discontent arose throughout the plaza, all members watching the newly announced Captain make a show.

However, there was a second sentiment simultaneously running through the gang. "...Kisaki?" a 3rd Division member on my other side muttered. It echoed amongst them, and it didn't take a genius to connect the pieces on the Captain's origins.

"He's from Moebius!" someone to my left exclaimed.

The gang exploded into sound at that announcement, yelling over each other with derision and contempt, all aimed at one sole person:

"A Moebius fucker becoming a Captain?!"

"Why the hell are you acting so high and mighty?!"

"Get out, Moebius!"

I winced but resisted the urge to cover my ears. Looking around, it was really only about a fifth of the gang screaming their displeasure about the new Captain— but while the rest weren't outright contemptuous, their inaction to stop the vocal minority spoke for itself. Hakkai silently stood with his arms crossed, frowning.

An arm bumped into mine. The 3rd Division member beside me trembled with hunched shoulders and balled fists, blood flushing his face. And he wasn't alone. Similar expressions were mirrored across the Division, rage boiling beneath the surface and set to erupt.

In contrast to both factions of the gang, Kisaki coolly stared back. Was he displeased? Was he expecting this reaction? What was he thinking at this moment? What was he thinking when he became a delinquent? Why did he do what he did in the future? Who was Kisaki?

I didn't know any of the answers. And of the information I had, something vital was missing, something to connect all the little pieces together. If I didn't know or understand anything about him, how could I possibly deal with him?

That scared me.

But that was also the reason I was here.

I sucked in a deep breath, ready to yell as loud as I could to stand a chance of being heard over the racket—

"FUCK!"

And released it as Peh-yan exploded a few meters away, where Hayato bodily restrained him from rushing at Kisaki. The blonde boy struggled to break free with pure strength, leaning forwards to dislodge white knuckles, but Mitsuya extended his arm to bar Peh-yan from going any further. He abided with a growl and instead shouted at the sitting boy.

"Why the fuck are you Captain?! That's Pah-chin's spot, asshole!" the former 3rd Division Vice-Captain snarled. "Youdon't deserve it!"

Kisaki looked up at Peh-yan, and after thinking about something for a few seconds, stood up from the step and strode over to stand in front of the bristling boy, although far enough to avoid the fist swung at him. Mitsuya slapped Peh-yan's arm back down. No one else from Toman was bold enough to actually attack the newly announced Captain, so they instead glowered and quieted down. There were still multiple cries of outrage from the back of the gang, where they were presumably far enough away to muster the courage to do so.

The Captain ignored them. "It's unfortunate what happened to Pah-chin. Osanai and I never saw eye-to-eye with many things, that in particular," he articulated in a crisp voice, his head cocked up slightly to meet the eyes of the taller boy. "Our generations have never agreed with each other. You have my full condolences." He bowed his head marginally, his expression neutral, before heading back to his spot on the stage.

A stunned silence followed when Kisaki's burly Vice-Captain blocked Peh-yan's fist as the former Vice-Captain lunged past Mitsuya to strike at Kisaki. Hayato rushed out and hauled Peh-yan back, taking an elbow to the gut and heel to the shins but unyielding to Peh-yan's struggles. The current Vice-Captain brought his forearms down from his face, although the arm that had sustained the main force of the punch hung limply at his side. Kisaki stopped, looked back, then resumed his path.

Why? Why did he do that? He feigned innocence and offloaded the blame onto Osanai, but why apologize? Surely he must've known that his words would anger Peh-yan; the boy's hot-headedness was no secret. Was it a genuine attempt to appease the former Vice-Captain with honeyed words, to reduce tensions that would get in the way of his current plan? Or was it meant to be heard by the quietly observing rest of the gang, to instill a modicum of respect in their minds?

Sound began to trickle back as some members daringly resumed yelling out insults at the new Captain, but considerably less than before, whether the previously vocal boys were affected by the display or just not as bold without a chorus of other voices to hide among. It was now or never, and as much as I wished 'never,' that was never an option.

I took a sluggish, single step forward toward the front. Then another. And then another. One, two, three, faster, faster, faster—

"Frank," the Vice-President called from atop of the stage. "What are you doing?"

I ignored the cold stares I could feel from Mikey, Draken, and Kisaki on my back, all less than three meters away, and focused my attention on the wary and disgruntled stares of the 150 members in front of me. I swallowed to refresh my suddenly dry mouth but nevertheless delivered the short speech I'd crafted together in my notes:

"E-even...even if he's not entirely loyal to Toman...he's got the guts to declare himself a target in enemy territory! And even if he is now loyal to Toman, he's got the guts to declare himself a target against his past allies!" The words resurfaced from memory and flowed out of my mouth easier as I continued. The plaza was now completely quiet, whether that was good or not. Both sides, Toman and past-Moebius, finally united in doing something: staring at me.

I pushed on. "Despite his questionable affiliations, he's got guts. And a Captain of Toman can't be any less, can he?! A Captain like your own, whom the President trusts to support and represent the gang— no, not just the President— whom all of you respect enough to listen to, stand by and fight for!" I leaned in as my message tumbled towards its ultimatum.

"So let's give him a chance!" I shouted. "The same chance you offered to your Captains when you first joined, and the same Captains that have made Toman into what it is today! I can't tell you to forgive and forget— never forget the injuries they invoked, the moral boundaries they overstepped— but we're all Toman now! Either we stand united, or we fall divided!"

No one yelled, no one clapped, and no one moved. Just silence. Was it well-received? Or were they currently contemplating which of my bones to break?

Well, Public Speaking 101 was a fucking lie.

But their reaction didn't matter too much. That speech hadn't been meant for them.

"Thank you," came the crisp voice of the boy sitting behind me, "but I'd like to correct one small detail: Osanai's faction were the ones to brutalize Pah-chin's acquaintances. Not us."

Kisaki was the ultimate antagonist. At some point, time unknown but existence undoubtable, he would have to be dealt with, or everything would be meaningless. I had to take every opportunity I could to prepare, even during this already critical time. If I didn't know enough about him, then I needed to find out for myself. Something major must've changed him, some motive that drove him to do all that he did in the story. And it was my intent to find out what.

Takemichi didn't seem to remember anything, and Hina from the series didn't see anything out of the ordinary with him. The easiest way to learn more about Kisaki was from the man himself. So, I would take incremental steps to get closer to him, and through that, better grasp his character and personality.

Still terrified of knowing next to nothing about him, though.

Maybe you weren't behind that attack, but trying to kill Draken isn't really any better.

Too scared to open my mouth lest I somehow let my true thoughts slip, I sent him a simple nod and slinked back into the gang, my legs shaky. The members around me continued to stare, but they didn't comment. Hakkai patted my back and gave me a tight grin.

Someone punch me. Knock me out of my misery.

"Our gang is going to challenge Valhalla!" Toman's President suddenly declared, who'd said not a single word since the outcries began.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, but my cheeks still felt flushed when I looked back up at the stage. No one seemed shocked by his statement. Toman challenging Valhalla has never been officially announced, but it was an obvious outcome. Valhalla had an officially declared "anti-Toman" force, for crying out loud.

"Valhalla is a rising power, with numbers Toman wouldn't be able to take on alone. Which is why we're taking in our past enemies. It's just as Frank says. We need Kisaki and his men here so we can challenge Valhalla!" Mikey's declaration carried over the noiseless plaza, but despite his passionate words, his face was calm. That calm mask he wore whenever he was on the stage.

"I can't force you to like this decision. But it's a necessity. If you don't like it, then feel free to leave. I'm not holding you back."

The muttering that had started up again instantly died at that challenge. It was bold of him. Very, very bold. But no one dared to object. To isolate themselves from the rest of the gang in front of him.

Except me, but I technically wasn't objecting.

Mikey coolly gazed over the gang and spun on his heel. "That concludes the nomination. The meeting's done!"

"Already?" Hakkai muttered. Draken seemed to be thinking similarly, frowning as he watched the shorter boy walk off towards the treeline around the shrine. Kisaki and his subordinate stood up and bowed to Mikey.

I was knocked to the side as someone pushed to the front, but I regained my balance and glared back to see Hanagaki Takemichi stalk forward with his face contorted in rage, eyes locked on the stage and unable to see his surroundings. I flinched. I'd known this might happen, but I'd never seen him so murderous, so ready for violence.

So this is the second timeline, huh. Which probably means... I shook my head. Don't do anything other than approach Kisaki right now. Think more carefully later, after the meeting.

The time-leaper scaled the stairs of the stage and brushed past a bewildered Draken to punch Kisaki across the cheek, whose head snapped to the side and glasses clattered on the tiles.

Takemichi seemed to regain his senses as he stood panting in front of the dark-skinned boy. His eyes trailed back behind him and widened. Everyone's gaze locked on the drama happening on stage in morbid curiosity of the bloodbath that was about to unfold, but I instead squinted at the treeline and edged behind Hakkai. The taller boy was too distracted to notice.

"Takemichi!" Draken snapped. "What are you doing?!"

His eyes widened. "I...I didn't—!"

"Bastard!" The new Vice-Captain snarled as he made to grab for the neck of Takemichi's hoodie.

Heavy footsteps and a glimpse of a black-haired boy rushing across the stage had me duck behind Hakkai. There was a dull thwack, followed by Takemichi crying out.

Baji had seen me as Blake on multiple occasions already. This was the first time since his sessions had started that I was dressed as Frank in front of him.

But Atsushi had recognized me under abnormal circumstances. We'd fought and spoken together that night, when the rain had half-washed away my disguise. Additionally, Hayato had only identified me when I made a slip-up by giving him the same phone number I used as Frank. Those two had been prime suspects of discovering my identity, and no one else but those two had done so. To reveal it to me, at least. There was no real need to hide at this point; this was just misplaced paranoia.

"Baji!" Mikey's voice took on a hard edge. It was the most agitated he'd been at this meeting, even with all the chaos. I inched away from Hakkai to view the stage.

"I quit!" The 1st Division Captain declared with a smirk while sauntering down the stairs of the stage, where Mitsuya had now joined them when I was keeping my head down. Takemichi still stood on-stage, albeit clutching his cheek with a grimace. The gang uneasily parted as Baji swaggered across the plaza and towards the parking lot. "I'm leaving to join Valhalla. Chifuyu, don't follow me," he called without looking back.

At the forefront of his Division, his Vice-Captain had almost started to follow him until one of his subordinates grabbed his wrist and whispered to him. Even though they were the Division right next to us, I couldn't distinguish what was said, but Chifuyu nodded with an upset frown and maintained his position.

Whack! My eyes shot back to the front to see Takemichi crumple on the ground and Kisaki panting over him as he followed through on his punch. "That's what you get," he said with a smug smile as he bent down to pick up his glasses. He checked them over for damage before putting them back on.

"Hey," Nahoya spoke up from the bottom of the stage, cracking his neck. "Takemitchy might've hit you first, so he kinda deserved that, but don't get cocky, dipshit." His grin failed to hide his bloodlust as he started for the stage, but his brother and the Fifth Division Captain blocked him from climbing up.

Peh-yan, however, shoved past Hayato and stalked up the steps, his face thunderous. Kisaki's Vice-Captain moved to intercept him.

"Peh." I shivered at the ice in Mikey's voice. Peh-yan didn't flinch, stopping to meet the boy's dark and unblinking eyes, but he gritted his teeth and stomped back down. Kisaki watched everything impassively from the stage, observing the strife his presence was creating. I frowned.

"I said the meeting's over for today!" Mikey commanded.

At the clear dismissal, the gang began to disperse while muttering amongst themselves. My displeasure with Kisaki aside, I needed to at least establish a base. Defending him earlier was part of that process, but I wanted to follow up on it, and the night's events were a good topic to talk over, impersonal yet also potentially insightful depending on where the conversation went. Approaching him was still an intimidating prospect, but it didn't feel as bad after I'd interrupted the nomination to publicly defend him before the gang. I watched Kisaki like a hawk.

"See you later, I guess."

"Yeah, bye," I returned to Hakkai with a tight smile before looking back at the new Captain, who was starting to descend the stage with his subordinate in tow. Tonight was quite hectic, wasn't it? Congrats on the nomination. I had no idea how he'd reply, but I'd just keep going from there. I walked towards him, weaving past the departing members.

"Frank!"

"Huh?" I turned around as Mitsuya came down the other end of the stage with his hands in his pockets.

"Could we talk for a bit?" he asked.

No.

"Is it urgent?" I instead opted to reply.

"Not really. Are you busy?"

"Kind of." I glanced back. They'd moved from the spot I'd seen them in only seconds ago, but I couldn't find them at all in the emptying plaza. My gaze lingered for a little longer, checking for his dark skin and golden glasses, but they were gone. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment before purposefully exhaling and relaxing. "Never mind, we can talk now."

"You sure?" Mitsuya said. "Later is fine."

"No, now's alright."

"Ok, then," he accepted. "It'll be short, anyway. Let's go a little away." His eyes flickered to the stage, which I checked to see Draken leaving Mikey sitting on a step with Takemichi collapsed beside him.

I hummed in agreement, and we plodded across the tiles into the surrounding forest of coniferous trees, just far enough for the plaza to be mostly concealed by tall trunks. It was considerably darker with the dense foliage blocking much of the moonlight, but it was bright enough that I could dimly make out his calm face as he spoke.

"The meeting was quite chaotic this time, but don't break formalities like that next time, alright? Other gangs could be less forgiving, especially in the middle of something important like a nomination ceremony," he explained. "Maybe it's a cultural thing, but there's a certain etiquette required in bosozoku. It'd be good to adhere to them."

I activate my gaijin card! If I have a foreigner-type on the field, this card lets me ignore cultural boundaries and attack the heart of collectivist society directly!

I wouldn't so boldly speak out at a meeting unless I had a reason I needed to, and this had been one of those occasions. "I'll mind them next time. I'm sorry."

"It's fine." He offered a small smile. "That's all I wanted to say, and I'm not going to hold you any longer."

I waved to him. "Bye, then." He returned it, and I walked away in the direction of the parking lot.

Now that I thought about it, Mitsuya had been rather reserved despite the night's incidents. Mikey had let a little of his displeasure slip after Baji announced his leave, but Mitsuya just seemed...unaffected. Perhaps I simply didn't know him well enough to read him. I peered back through the trees, but he was no longer there.

Maybe Kisaki still was, though, and I could make up on the opportunity lost earlier. I pulled out my phone. There was still a full hour until midnight, and I had enough time. I first checked I had the right SIM card in before sending a short text to Hayato, to which I received a response almost immediately:

"K, leaving your bag by the steps. G'night."

I snapped my phone shut and continued on. I didn't want to hold Hayato back any longer, even the minute it'd take to sprint to the parking lot. That was the most likely location Kisaki would be in if he was still here. Else, I'd look for them around the shrine.

There were only a few stragglers left when I arrived at the stairs on the edge of the lot, and I was able to check all their faces. Kisaki wasn't here. I let out the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. That was fine. The move I'd made during the meeting was good enough to start with. Although, it would be great if I could.

I spied my tote bag hanging at the bottom end of the railing, and I climbed down to retrieve it before ascending back onto the shrine grounds. I was doubtful he'd be wandering around in the trees, but well, Baji had burst out of nowhere and Mitsuya was currently doing said thing. Didn't hurt to look.

However, it did hurt when a low-hanging branch slapped my face, causing me to splutter more in shock than actual pain. Luckily, no one witnessed me making a fool of myself because there wasn't a single person there. I'd roughly traveled around the perimeter of the shrine building but encountered no one, including the new 3rd Division Captain. It was about time to give up, walk to the station, and head home.

I perked my ears as I heard footsteps, and I lied back against a tree as two people wordlessly passed by the paved path. Mikey and Takemichi? I didn't dare peek out to check. Had that much time passed already? I waited until I could no longer hear them before following in the same direction to the parking lot.

"Hm?" A piece of litter on the edge of the plaza. Japan's streets were spotless compared to those back in LA, which made any trash on the streets conspicuous. Someone from the gang had probably left it. I sighed and bent down to clean it up, carefully ducking under a waist-high branch.

Something palm-sized slipped out of the folded paper as I picked it up. It was a traditional Japanese charm, a small pocket with delicate embroidery, tied shut by a thin thread.

Oh. This is Baji's, isn't it?

I opened the glossy paper, and the six young boys in Toman's uniform confirmed my assumption. But I folded it shut and slipped the charm back before placing it in the exact same spot I'd found it.

These had helped Takemichi stop Mikey from beating Kazutora to death. While I had my own plan, I didn't want to interfere with Takemichi's side too much in the worst-case scenario I failed. But this was the second timeline, his presence confirmed.

I silently continued to kneel, lips pursed. My eyes roamed over the stone tiles, following the hairline cracks across the weathered rock.

Wait.

If Mikey and Takemichi left earlier, then why is this still here?

My eyes snapped to the photo, pristine aside from a few smudges of dirt. Takemichi should've taken the charm and photo unless I'd somehow altered that. But how? How exactly had I obstructed that event?

"Frank-kun? Is that you?" someone called from across the plaza. My breath hitched. There was only one dude who attached honorifics to Frank's name.

That was Mikey and Mitsuya earlier, wasn't it?

Takemichi kindly made himself visible as he walked over, appearing past the thick tree trunk that had concealed him from me.

"H-hey, Takemichi," I returned with a wave as I stood back up. That stupid branch from earlier stabbed the back of my head and plucked a few hairs off my scalp. "How— ow!— are you?"

"I've been better." He rubbed his cheek and winced. "Anyway, what's that?" He pointed at the piece of paper at my feet.

I shrugged. "Not sure," I said.

"...but I saw you pick it up." So, he'd just been quietly watching the entire time.

I took a different approach. "I wasn't sure whom it belonged to, so I was thinking of leaving it here so that they can come back and easily retrieve it."

"Oh, ok." He looked at it again. "What is it, though?"

Takemichi was supposed to stumble upon them, anyway. "It's a photo of the founders, I think. There's also a charm," I said as I picked them back up and unfolded the picture for him to see. He leaned in with our shoulders almost touching. I edged back to create some distance, and he was too captivated with the photo to notice.

"Wow, they're so young!" He listed the faces he recognized before falling silent as he considered the final face.

"...Frank-kun, do you know where... this boy with the tattoo on his neck is now?"

Huh? I closely observed his face, but any expressions he made were too subtle to notice in the moonlight. No prominent shock, fear, or hate. 'Who?' was the question I'd been expecting him to ask, but 'where?' implied that he didn't need to know who. As if he already...

"I don't know. Why?"

"Just curious," he shrugged.

What was that reaction to seeing Kazutora? What did he see and learn in the future? Maybe I was overthinking it, and he was just a weirdo who'd ask for someone's address before their name. But 'where' coupled with 'now' implied he knew Kazutora had recently reallocated. That he'd just been released from juvenile detention...

Trying to dig deeper would equally put me at risk of letting something slip. For now, stop.

I folded the photo shut and slipped the charm into the makeshift pocket. Takemichi should still take it in case things went awry. "Actually, now that I think about it, the wind might blow it away if we leave it here," I began. "It might rain, too. We should probably take them, but maybe you'd better hold onto these instead. I'm...re... really disorganized, and I might end up losing someone's lost belongings, and that'd be terribly inefficient, wouldn't it?"

"Uhhh..."

To be fair, 'uhhh...' would've been my exact response to that contrived excuse. But he wasn't done:

"Wouldn't it be better if you did? You're more familiar with Toman than I am and would have an easier time finding who it belongs to."

Screw that infallible piece of logic. "I...guess you're right," I acknowledged. I slowly slipped it into my bag, trying to think of other reasons to offload them onto him, but nothing came to mind. My hand reached the bottom of the bag, and I let go of both the photo and my excuses.

"Oh yeah, I'm apparently part of the 2nd Division, now," Takemichi said.

"Congrats. Welcome to the Division." I forced a smile on my face.

"Thanks," he scratched his tousled hair with a grin. "Well, see you later, maybe."

I will avoid you like the plague. "Yeah. Bye." He left towards the parking lot. I waited until he vanished down the stairs before taking the photo back out. It sat incriminatingly in my palm, evidence that I'd already committed a major change.

"No going back, huh..."

I returned home ten minutes before midnight and collapsed in bed after changing my clothes.

---

I swept the fallen leaves off the bench and plopped down with a big exhale, relishing the cold surface through my rolled-up jeans. The pale early noon light was tinged orange as it filtered through the red foliage overhead, still lush despite the piles of leaves covering the grass and edge of the sidewalk. I'd nearly slipped on several of those heaps on my way here. I closed my eyes as a crisp gust cooled down my sweaty forearms and neck. Something light struck the back of my head, and I looked behind to see a crimson maple leaf flutter onto the bench. I flicked it off and faced back, watching the entrance of the tall apartment building on the other end of the street while catching my breath.

This was the second timeline.

I must've failed.

'Fail,' huh... a multitude of devastating possibilities, all condensed into one, simple word. What went wrong? Exactly which part was unsuccessful?

Takemichi seemed to recognize Kazutora. So, Kazutora was alive? Takemichi had seen him?

Or seen his corpse.

Dry, scarlet leaves crackled under my sneakers.

Takemichi had seen the future in which I enacted my plan, even if it failed. If I were to change it, then his foreknowledge might become useless. And if the new plan didn't work, then everything was doomed. There were no more chances.

I wasn't going to give up and do nothing, like what I'd been doing up to the festival fight. My decision then had come with the assurance that Draken would live without my interference. But Baji would undoubtedly die if I did nothing this time, and Kazutora just as likely. I couldn't afford to stay passive.

But how exactly should I act?

Just...follow my current plan for now. It's the safest option, even if it might have failed.

I sighed but rubbed my face clean with my t-shirt, patted down my disheveled hair, and tightened the jacket around my waist as I stood up. I couldn't get distracted right now; there was an objective to complete.

Once the traffic light turned red, I crossed the street and stepped in front of the tall boy with black, shoulder-length hair, who had been walking home to his apartment. It was the weekend right after the meeting; he'd join Valhalla later on a school day.

"You're the 1st Division Captain, right?"

Baji halted and glowered down at me. "Huh? What are you doing?"

I swallowed nervously but didn't back away from his sharp-eyed glare. "I think you dropped these at the meeting." I quickly slipped the photo and charm out of my pants pocket and offered it to him before he got any misunderstandings.

There was a momentary flash of surprise across his face when he unfolded it. "Thanks."

Now, then.

"I overheard Kisaki talking to the President. He said he'd try to get the 3rd Division Captain out of juvenile detention in exchange for the position. You were there too, weren't you?"

I only saw his jaw stiffen because I'd been looking for a reaction, but it immediately relaxed. He's good. I'm almost certain this must've shocked him: an unrelated stranger who knows his secret with no obligations to keep his (her) mouth shut.

"What the hell is this about?" He frowned. "Does this have anything to do with why you defended Kisaki at the meeting?"

Aside from the reveal that he'd been hiding and watching the meeting, was that an accusation? It did serve as a good transition, though.

"Yeah, it does. I want solid evidence of his guilt before I form any conclusions. Kisaki's definitely suspicious as a former Captain of Moebius, but he's not necessarily done anything wrong. In my opinion, it's unfair to judge him solely on his past allegations," I lied through my teeth.

Killing Baji had never been part of Kisaki's plan. It was only after Baji had struck him at the battle that Kisaki's attention had landed on the former Captain, which had ultimately led to Baji being killed. So, if Baji never attacked Kisaki, then Baji would never become a target. Thus, Kisaki would not order Kazutora to kill him, and Mikey would not kill Kazutora in turn. With "The Invincible Mikey," Toman would beat Valhalla, and the arc would end casualty-free.

It was a fairly minimal change that would yield wondrous results.

Not a very high success rate, though. Or at least, no easy way of telling.

Baji scoffed. "No seriously, what the fuck are you talking about? I didn't leave Toman just because of one prick. I'd have left ages ago if that were the case."

Even if his leaving for Valhalla could be argued for his wanting to support Kazutora by his side, Baji had been dead-confident that Kisaki was trouble. He'd said such to Takemichi and Chifuyu on his deathbed: "Kisaki is the enemy" had been important enough for him to use his last words on. There was no way I could convince him otherwise.

Such had been the realization when I initially thought of this idea. But breaking it down, the core idea was thus:

Kazutora must NOT kill Baji.

And that was what my plan revolved around. Stopping that single event.

"True, you don't seem like a person who'd care about infighting. You could've just hit Kisaki without leaving if that were the case. You left Toman for some other reason, right?" He opened his mouth, but I pushed on. "I hope it's worth enough for you to risk losing the gang you helped create—" a small nod at the photo in his hand "—and the people you met in it. But I think you're fully aware of what you stand to lose."

Despite almost interrupting me, he was silent for a good ten seconds after, his thoughts hidden behind a frown.

"You're right. I left Toman for a different reason. But it's none of your business." Baji passed around me and towards the front doors of his apartment building. "I'm not part of Toman anymore. Speak to me again, and you'll regret it." He slipped through the glass doors without turning back. I watched him pass around a corner and out of sight.

I couldn't tell if either of my attempts were impactful, the first more uncertain then the second. And they weren't supposed to invoke an immediate change. If the first somehow worked and Baji didn't attack Kisaki, then good, but in the more plausible second, if Baji was able to help Kazutora recover himself, or at least grow closer so that Kazutora would hesitate if ordered to stab Baji, then everything should be alright.

Baji cared about Kazutora, and Kazutora still did back, even considering each other's actions at the battle next week. If I could just push the former 1st Division Captain to do a little more, to perform some additional small act of kindness that caused Kazutora to rethink about Baji's 'betrayal'...

But again, I didn't know if my words had any effect; I was just a stranger who suddenly confronted him. And even so, I doubted it'd be enough. Talking to Baji was only the first part.

He'd at least heard me out since I returned his possessions, but I doubt the next one will go as smoothly.

Come to think of it, I never introduced myself. I literally was still just a stranger.

That was fine, though. I stuffed my numbing hands in my pockets and walked in the opposite direction. I'd said my piece, and I doubted he'd easily listen to me again. We met once and would never meet again for a good while. Some day after this mess was over.

I jogged back home and slipped through the back door.

---

Kisaki Tetta looked both ways before crossing to the other side of the street.

Blake Meyers choked on air and broke down coughing on the other side of the street.

"I knew full well my chances of just spotting him on the streets were slim as hell"?

Well, he was currently walking in my direction in a black parka and cargo pants. I wiped a tear away after giving a final hack.

To be fair, I hadn't been to this part of town before. It was a little away from the city center, and while there were some people walking about, it wasn't packed. Part of it may have been because it was right after lunch hour. It was much quieter, too, which would provide a pleasant atmosphere to eat at and chat in the small diners and cafes lining the street. As expected, a local would know the town far better than me.

But what was Kisaki doing here?

He could just be enjoying a leisurely stroll after lunch, y'know. He's got a life outside of Toman.

I'd been searching for him over the past two months, yet I had to resist the urge to pull out my phone and check the time, take off my glasses and rub my eyes, or do something, anything, that wasn't stare at Kisaki as he approached.

Part of it was likely because I was dressed as myself. No one had identified me just from looking at my normal disguise. Baji didn't seem to recognize me when he saw 'Frank' a few hours ago, even though he'd already seen me as myself on multiple occasions. So long as I didn't mess it up myself somehow, it was proven effective. 'Blake' and 'Frank' were two, completely different people.

If, if I could just force myself to whole-heartedly believe that. Kisaki was, without a doubt, someone who I did not want knowing. He seemed like the kind of guy who'd not just know things that he shouldn't but also exploit said information.

But I needed to know more about him. He wasn't an all-seeing entity who could read minds and predict the future, he was human. A human who acted on logic, made mistakes, and could be stopped. This was my chance, even though it wasn't in the most ideal conditions. Any potential information I could gain was worth it, no matter how little it was.

I decisively made eye contact and outstretched a hand toward him.

"What?" the delinquent said as he halted in front of me, his eyebrows sharply curved over his glasses and head cocked back.

Think. A foreigner stops you on the street. What do they ask?

"How—hoW do I get to the staTION? I am Lost."

He blinked once, twice, then slowly lowered his head and slipped his hands out of his hoodie's pockets. My eyes dipped to his empty fingers, and they curled into his palm as his arm swept out to the side. I stepped back.

"The station's some past that cafe with the tall glass storefront and the black and white cup logo," he said in English as he pointed to the shop at the end of the block. "If you continue for two intersections and take a left from there, it will be at the end of the streets."

Kisaki could speak English, and he could speak it pretty fluently. It shouldn't have come as a surprise, knowing he was good at academics, but nearly everyone in my class had...room for improvement. They were still learning it, to be fair. If I assumed the curriculum was roughly the same for each school, then Kisaki must've self-studied or taken classes to speak this easily, not only paid attention in school. And not just an extra hour or two a week. This was yearsahead of the curriculum.

Ah, he was leaving. Was that enough? There might not be another chance to see him outside of Toman, even if I checked in this location again later...

"Sorry, could you repeat that?"

He stopped a few steps past me, gave a massive sigh that I was probably meant to hear, then turned back and slipped a notepad out of his jacket pocket. The words on the front page disappeared too fast to read as he flipped to a clean page and started writing with the pen stored in the spiral binding.

I observed his clothing carefully, looking for small details that could help identify him. While his face was the most distinctive part of him, if he was wearing a hood that hid it and long sleeves and pants that covered his skin, I could only use his clothing to spot him. Dark, muted colors, fits that weren't skin-tight or baggy—

I looked back up as he cleanly ripped off the page and handed it to me. "Here. Can you read that?"

While I doubted he'd punch me or start plotting my demise, testing his patience was probably not the best idea. And although he had some— enough to give me directions instead of ignoring me and potentially causing a fuss (I really doubted he was doing this out of the good of his heart) — it was starting to fray. I was curious what would happen when it completely snapped, but I didn't think it was worth making a scene for, either.

"I can. Thank you."

He left without another word, hands in his pockets.

The encounter hadn't yielded any super-useful information, but it had displayed another part of him to ponder over, combined with what I already knew of him.

Kisaki's cold demeanor in the Toman meeting may have been an act to some extent, but he genuinely had changed in his personal life from the timid boy Hina had recounted in the Black Dragons arc. For whatever goal he was working towards, whatever purpose he wanted power, it was a motivation so important to him that he would change both his appearance and personality to take on a completely new identity. I still had no idea what that reason was, something that involved Takemichi and Hina, but it was not one he would give up. He would not easily be appeased with anything short of that goal.

I glanced over his note, each letter— rather, each line— deliberately starting and stopping, leaving a small ink blot at the ends of each stroke. He even scribbled a small map with two angry dots on each side, one labeled "YOU" and the other "STATION."

Wow, he really didn't want to talk to me.

"Hey, Blake! What're you doing here? Picking up guys?"

My heart leapt to my throat, and I recoiled as a voice piped up from right behind me. I glared back at the grinning girl. "You scared me, Emma. Where'd you suddenly come from?"

"I was waiting at the cafe and saw you chatting up that dude, but it ended before I got here." Her blonde hair rustled over her scarf as she leaned in, our shoulders touching. "Hey, what'd he give you? His phone number?"

I folded the note shut before she could peek at it and slipped it into my coat. "Just some directions."

While the note itself contained nothing important, Emma knew full well I knew where the station was. She'd given me directions from that exact station to the cafe we were supposed to meet at, and I didn't want to deal with her further teasing right now.

"Where?" came the natural response. "I've got nothing else to do today, so I could help you get anywhere you want to go. Or, maybe even the way to his heart." She smirked at me. "If you're up for a bit of clothes shopping afterwards, that is—"

"It's not that." I winced at my sharp tone. "Sorry."

She leaned back out of my space with an exhale and scratched her head. "No, no, it's fine. Probably shouldn't have pressed so hard."

I silently walked beside Emma towards the cafe, which was coincidentally the same one Kisaki had pointed out in his directions.

No, no, I hadn't accepted Emma's offer to hang out to think about Toman and Kisaki. I shook my head. Rather, it was the opposite: to make it up to Emma for pretending to avoid her and also destress myself. She'd gotten my number from Hina and had suggested we talk over drinks a while ago, and I'd finally replied yesterday before receiving an almost immediate confirmation. We'd only met once, at the hospital when Takemichi was injured, so I'd been (and still was) surprised she'd offered.

And what was I doing now? Making things uncomfortable between us by being too tense. Don't think about him. Emma doesn't know I have anything to do with Toman. We're just two friends, relaxing together, with no gangs involved.

"Your...your outfit's really fashionable. It looks good on you."

"Hm?" Emma looked to me, the black necklace under her checkered scarf oscillating. She swept her blonde locks off her shoulder and straightened her dark cardigan, which hung open to reveal a white blouse over a pair of leggings. "Thanks." She smiled. "I can't really see what you're wearing past that dark coat, but it works well with your skirt. Layers are the way to go with fall and winter fashion. And it's a good fit, too—a lot of people buy coats a size too small."

I stared down at my drab clothes and picked a conspicuous piece of lint off my coat. "Oh, thanks."

I felt a little less tense by the time we stepped past the glass doors of the cafe. It was quite classy, the black furniture and gray walls reflecting the pale white light of the overcast sky through the large window storefront. The lamps hanging from the ceiling illuminated the tables in dim yellow. It was pleasantly cozy indoors, and I took off my coat and held it in my hands. Emma rolled up the sleeves of her cardigan and loosened her scarf.

"Wanna get something to drink first?" Emma asked.

"Sure."

There was no line to order. The store was a fair size, with enough seats and tables for multiple parties of three in addition to the several stools by the bar counter, although only about a fourth of the entire cafe was filled with customers, some quietly chatting with company and others enjoying their drinks by themselves.

Noticing our approach, the staff member at the cashier got off from a chair past the counter to receive us. "Oh, Emma-chan! One hazelnut mocha?"

"Actually, could I have an espresso this time?"

"Sure. And as for your friend...?"

Uhh. I skimmed over the extensive menu displayed across the wall over the counter. Maybe besides going with a classic espresso or latte, I'd get something sweeter for a change. A frappuccino, perhaps? There were still a bunch of different options in that category, though.

A flash of black caught my eye as an aproned waiter strode out from the bar counter, carrying a serving tray that held a shot glass filled with coffee and a larger cup topped with—

Ice cream.

"Could I have one of what the kid over by the window just got?"

"An affogato with rainbow sprinkles? Alright."

Emma suddenly looked away with a hand over her mouth. A poorly repressed snicker escaped her.

"What?"

She turned back and brought her arm down, although the corners of her mouth still quirked up. "Sorry. That was— snrk— just the last thing I expected you'd order."

"Well, it's not that cold today..."

"I didn't quite mean that part. Eh, whatever." She waved it off.

We paid for our orders and left the cashier. Emma led me to the currently empty bar counter, which wouldn't have been my first choice of seats, but I nevertheless stepped up onto the stool and sat with my hands over my coat in my lap. Emma plopped down beside me and rested her arms on the varnished wood counter.

"Do you come here often?"

"Yeah, quite a lot. This is definitely one of my favorite cafes." She smiled as she briefly looked around the shop. "It's been pretty empty here for a few months, though. It's not part of a chain, so I am... bit..." She mumbled to herself and tapped her nails on the counter. At the other end of the bar, an aproned barista measured some dark beans before pouring them into a coffee machine.

"Emma?" I said after half a minute.

She looked back to me. "Oh, yeah? Did you say something?"

"No, but you seemed distracted..."

"Sorry, I was thinking about something."

"That's fine. You don't need to force yourself to talk. Just sitting here together is enough for me." This was partly my way of apologizing for avoiding her earlier, even if she wasn't aware I'd been intentionally doing so.

She quickly waved her hands. "No, no, it's not that! I want to chat with you." She paused, and her eyes flickered over me from head to toe. "You seem a little different from the first time we met. Not in a bad way," she was quick to add, "just... a little different."

"Really?" I looked down at my pinstripe blouse and mid-length skirt. They were pretty much the same style of clothing I'd been wearing since arriving here, likely including the time we'd met outside Takemichi's hospital room. "I don't feel very different?"

"Never mind. Oh, he's done." Emma leaned off the counter as the barista came over with a tray in hand.

"Here you go," he began. "An affogato for the madam—" He set down in front of me a shot glass of hot coffee beside a glass cup of two scoops of vanilla ice cream drizzled with colorful sprinkles. A silver spoon was separately placed beside them.

"Thank you...?"

"— and an espresso for the little lady."

"Thank you, old geezer," Emma returned as he placed a small plate with a cup of gently steaming dark coffee before her. The barista, roughly in his mid-twenties, snorted at the jab and left into a backroom.

"You're pretty close with the staff here, huh?" I commented.

"Yup." She sipped a bit of her drink. "They're pretty chill to chat with. Except for the guy just now. He's a dick, whose only good point is making good coffee."

"Thank you!" a voice called back through the doorway.

I chuckled before looking over my drink. Or was it a dessert? I'd never ordered one of these before, although I had seen how others had eaten it. I took the smaller glass of coffee and slowly poured it over the ice cream. The dark drink tinted the white slightly but mostly pooled at the bottom of the glass, where it swirled and mixed with some of the melted ice cream. I took a generous spoonful of both ice cream and coffee.

Sweet, creamy vanilla enveloped in the rich and slightly bitter tang of a well-blended espresso. Together, the perfect temperature to be a pleasantly cool treat and not freeze my tongue off. The sprinkles added a small crunch before I swallowed my mouthful. Simple yet delicious.

We enjoyed our drinks for a few minutes without any words.

"Hey...mind if I talk about something unrelated for a bit?" Emma asked as she put down her cup. I nodded midbite. "So, I've got this boyfriend."

Draken? I blinked. Wait, 'I' didn't know him. Neither did 'I' know about Mikey, nor Emma's connection to Toman. I needed to be a little careful.

"We've been dating for a while. He's a great dude who I know cares about me— this isn't really about anything bad," she reassured me. "But he's the kinda guy who doesn't overtly show it, and our relationship didn't feel like it was going anywhere." I hummed.

"And then, not that long ago, he got...pretty seriously injured defending me. Well, I wasn't the only reason he did it, but he still did get hurt enough to go to the hospital. But not too badly, don't worry! He's fine now." She smiled with a little too many teeth.

I hadn't realized how much Draken's near-death experience must've impacted Emma. Yes, Mikey and Toman would be hurt, but his girlfriend, who'd seen it all unfold without being able to do anything to stop it?

I should've accepted her offer earlier...

"I see. Is there...any particular part you want to discuss?"

"Yeah. Now that I'm actually saying this, it feels kinda stupid, but I just...never properly thanked him. Because I wasn't sure how to meet what he'd done for me. Now, it's been two months, and I still haven't."

I took a guess. "So, you're worried that might have hurt your relationship?"

Her nervous grin confirmed it. "Stupid, isn't it?"

I could remember Draken grumbling about crane games on that afternoon I'd spent with him and Mikey, and he'd been dead set on winning with his own skills rather than asking for help. And from the manga, I knew not just that he would have never held any negative feelings towards her about the festival fight, but exactly who he was slotting away coin-after-coin for.

"No, your concerns are valid. But I doubt he did it expecting to be thanked or repaid in some way, if he was willing to risk himself to keep you safe. I can't speak for him, but I think he's just satisfied that you aren't hurt. Although, well, it'd be ideal that you thank him," I interjected, "but it doesn't have to be some grand affair. Just a simple 'thank you' is enough, or more if you really want to, but above all, just be honest. You sound like you've got a great boyfriend, Emma."

"...yup, he is." Emma slowly exhaled. "Thanks. I needed that."

"Mhm," I hummed back as I finished the last of my drink. "Why'd you ask me, though?"

I was not a particularly social person, and I didn't think I looked like one, either.

Emma waved her hand. "Oh, just getting a few opinions from different friends. Hina's a great girl and all, but her relationship with Takemichi is... frustrating at times, to say the least. Not my business to interfere too much— but I can't really help it sometimes." She laughed. "And as for you...actually, nevermind."

"What?"

"Nu-uh. Not telling. Anyway, how's your stay in Japan been so far?" I raised an eyebrow but responded to her question.

We freely chatted for half-an-hour after that. Nothing to do with Toman or Valhalla, just other, less stressful topics that were a welcome break.

"Let's come again sometime, maybe?" Emma asked as she hopped off her chair.

I put my coat back on before stepping down. "Yeah, sure. When I have time."

"Cool." She gave a short farewell to the cashier, and we exited the cafe together. The overcast weather hadn't changed much since we entered, although the sky was a little darker and there was a bit of wind. There also weren't any people around I could see, which was a little strange, considering it was a weekend afternoon. Trees rustled in the wind and a car passed by, but there was no movement on the streets otherwise.

"So, bye."

"Bye," I returned with a small wave. But there was a flash of white several stores away on the street, and I curiously peered over Emma's shoulder.

Six tall boys in that same white bomber jacket, ambling straight towards us. Enough for a full party. My stomach dropped.

"...Emma, let's go back in for a few minutes," I said.

"Hm? Why?"

"There might be some trouble coming from behind." I nodded at the delinquents. The girl peeked back.

"Oh yeah...I guess we should." I swiftly turned back and reached for the glass doors with Emma in tow, but—

"Ah! Ain't that Draken's girlfriend?" Shit.

The Valhalla members stared directly at us from several meters away, the surprise on their faces morphing into glee.

I knew I'd gotten better since the Moebius fight, but six people at once? Although I recognized the boys who'd tried to attack Draken after his release from the hospital among their number, the others looked comparatively stronger. Besides, 'Blake' wasn't supposed to fight. But if there was no other choice though, then she'd try her best.

I could see through the large storefront the cashier briskly beckoning at us to come back in and the waiter from earlier slowly heaving a chair over his shoulder, so I pushed on the door, but—

Emma grabbed my wrist. "Let's run, Blake."

"Huh?"

But she already began sprinting away, and I had no choice but to follow as she tugged on my arm.

"Can we—outrun them?!" I yelled at her over the wind in my ears. My loafers were unsuited for running, and so were Emma's heeled boots. I glanced back to see them rushing after us and gaining ground rapidly.

"Just—get into that alley!" Emma said. She'd released my hand and now ran beside me.

"The alley?!" Staying in a public area would have been the best thing to do, even if there wasn't anyone on the streets that I could see, which was probably because of the boys currently chasing us.

"Yeah! I'll be—right behind you! Just keep going to the other side!"

No time to debate. I took a sharp turn into the narrow alley as I arrived at it, awkwardly pushing off the opposite wall to change my direction, and wobbled into the backstreet, shoes slapping the concrete.

But only mine.

I jerked back several seconds later to see Emma standing at the mouth of the alley just as the six boys caught up.

"Fuck!" What the hell was she doing?! I spun around and sprinted back, nearly tripping in the process. I recognized the boy Mikey had easily defeated as he stepped forward and spoke, too far away and quiet for me to hear over my pounding heart, and then he reached out to grab Emma's shoulder. "Emm—!"

"Hah!" Emma seized his outstretched arm and pivoted away on her heel, drawing him forward and swiftly rotating his body over her shoulder to slam him into the concrete behind her with a sharp cry.

I slowed to a stop a few paces away from the now-unconscious delinquent. She's not just Mikey's sister; her family runs a goddamn dojo. Of course she'd be able to defend herself. Stupid, stupid me.

"You—"

Having not learned a lesson, a taller boy barged forward to grab her wrists, to which she took hold of his jacket, sent a heeled boot into the side of his knee, and simultaneously wrenched his torso down, spinning him flat onto his back. She kicked the stunned boy in the face twice, whose eyes then rolled up in his head.

Do I even need to do anything....?

A third boy was just as swiftly dispatched before the others started to act more strategical. A pair rushed forward with her trapped in between and kept their arms close to their body to prevent her from grabbing them.

Instead of another throw, Emma spun into a vertical kick with the top of her boot at the chin of the boy on the right, whose head snapped back, then stamped that foot down and pivoted backwards to offload a second kick at the other boy's chest with her other heel. The one she'd struck in the face collapsed, but the second reeled back with a sharp breath, his arms hanging loosely in front of him and in just the perfect position for her to perform a throw against the alley wall. His head cracked off the hard surface, and he slid down, unconscious.

The final boy didn't move. Neither did Emma, who glared back at him while slightly panting. She was the first to speak:

"Don't pull this crap when I'm with friends. Or ever. And you lot are all scaring everyone away. Stay away from here, you hear me?"

"Fine!" He spat at the ground. "We'll avoid this place." He swept out an arm to gesture at the conked-out boys. "But I can't say anything for the others."

"Hmph." Emma crossed her arms and started to look back. "Just get them out of here before— Blake...?" She froze up like a deer caught in headlights as she met my eyes.

Was I not supposed to see that? Rather, how was 'Blake' supposed to respond, having never had any close relation to gangs or likely seen a live street fight before? And while my early encounter with Moebius was a counterexample, it was best to keep it as secret as I could to deter any associations.

"..." Stunned speechlessness seemed like a good answer, although it wasn't voluntary.

A goofy grin formed on the girl's face, and she scratched her hair. "Heh heh, uhh... sorry about that. They're just some...jealous classmates of my brother from his school's...boxing club. He taught me a bit, you see. Don't pay them too much attention."

"Hah?" The remaining boy spoke up before grinning. "Ohhh, your friend doesn't know that you're related to T—"

In the conveniently angled traffic mirror, I observed as Emma jabbed an arm out behind her and dug her fist in his gut.

"—t-the boxing club president!" he gasped. "Oh man, I wish I could be as good as him!"

Emma licked her lips in the silence between us. I thought for a few seconds, careful to keep my expression neutral, before giving my response.

"Oh, your boyfriend boxes?"

What else could I say? Even if I ignored her clearly suspicious delivery, I was pretty confident that that had not come from boxing. Yet challenging it would achieve no real purpose.

"Y..yeah! He's pretty good at it, actually."

"All his opponents end up in the hospital, at least," the boy muttered. Emma's boot stomped down on the ground where his foot had been a second ago.

The girl twisted a lock of hair around her fingers as she continued. "So...you still up for another chat sometime?" She looked uncertain. Hopeful, I daresay. It was quite the pronounced difference from the confident and chatty girl I'd seen both on paper and several minutes ago.

She was probably more just embarrassed to show a violent display to someone who hadn't known about her connection prior. Or maybe she didn't want me to worry about her.

But regardless, Emma was a great girl and fun to chat with. That hour had been the most relaxed I'd been all week, maybe even all month.

"Sure, I'd love to."

A/N: I am taking liberties with some characters, altering/adding to their personalities in a way that matches how I interpreted them in canon. This was largely done for Emma in this chapter.