A/N: I just realized 'backlog' means the opposite of what I thought it did. Alright, ignore any time I've said it in previous A/N's.

"You've been coming by quite a lot, recently."

I set my cup down and turned around from the window to acknowledge the aproned barista, who placed before me a plate with a generous slice of chocolate cake and a fork.

"Uh, I didn't order that."

"For your continued patronage." He dipped his head in a little bow.

"Well, to be honest, it's been sitting there for a few days," the middle-aged owner said as he walked over from behind the bar counter, revealing a plate of a half-finished slice of the same cake in his hand. "No one's ordered it and it would be a waste to throw the cakes. It's not spoiled yet, but it doesn't seem like anyone will take it. We have toffee cake left over too if you'd like."

"Thanks for the cake, then...?" I glanced around the quiet cafe, devoid of any other customers. The time I'd gone with Emma last weekend had been the busiest I'd seen it in the past few days, at about a fourth capacity. But then again, I wasn't paying much attention to the cafe itself. As I broke off a corner of cake, my eyes flickered over to the street, where only a handful of ordinary civilians passed by despite it being a Sunday afternoon.

"Emma-chan hasn't come since the time she returned with you, drenched. Is she doing alright?"

I looked back to the owner. That had been the last time I'd seen the girl, when she'd pulled me out of the rain and treated me to a drink. Perhaps it might've seemed we were close, but we hadn't contacted each other since. "I'm not sure, but I haven't heard much from her," I replied honestly. Chocolate shavings crunched in my mouth as I took a bite of cake. A white jacket flashed in my peripheral vision, but it only ended up being a trio of ordinary Valhalla members.

Emma had agreed to keep my secret, and I had no choice but to trust her on that. We hadn't been too close initially, so her lack of contact since then was nothing suspicious, but it also simultaneously was. Doing something outside of my vision, where I couldn't prevent or even realize. Was it paranoid of me? It all stemmed from one question: why would Emma trust me?

Emma didn't seem to want her own identity as a gang member public. That could suffice as a compromise.

I shut my eyes with a frown and rested my fork on the table. She hadn't approached me with malice or ill intent; reciprocating with blackmail was uncalled for. Unlike with Atsushi, who'd confronted me with understandable suspicion and wariness, Emma had been welcoming and friendly. As if nothing had changed between us.

"Myers-chan?"

"Huh?" I turned back to the two staff members, who were expectantly waiting for me to answer.

The owner didn't seem annoyed to repeat himself. "My part-timer here can take you back to the main street when you're finished. You usually leave around this time, right? You and Emma-chan luckily managed to escape from that gang last time, but just to be cautious."

The man beside him interrupted. "I'd happily do that, but my shift isn't over for at least two hours."

"Don't worry about it. I doubt we'll get any more people than I can handle on my own." He sighed. "And don't think I can't see you sneaking off into the back room to study." The exposed server twitched. "But it's alright, there's nothing else to do. Take the rest of it off; I'll still pay you in full."

"Sorry about that," the barista sheepishly said as he scratched his dark hair. "I've just got a major exam coming up. Thank you." He left for the staff room.

"I'm alright with that?" I answered after silence. "I think I'll stay for a bit longer today, though. I can..." My eyes scanned over the empty cafe again. "...buy another drink."

The owner gave a small shake of his head. "Don't worry about it, no need to force yourself. It's nice to have some other company here," he said with a small smile.

"Oh, alright." I still had a fair amount of money outside what had gotten soaked a few days ago, but my constant visits to the cafe over the past days were starting to add up.

He returned to the counter after our conversation wrapped up, leaving me alone at my table. I ate another bite of cake as I turned back to face the street and rested my cheek on my hand, waiting.

---

"Blake-chan? You're not eating with us today again?"

"Sorry, but I just feel like eating outside by myself," I said with an apologetic smile to the small group of girls seated around Hina's desk. Hina herself looked up from her bag, her brown eyes inquisitive, but she only gave a simple wave and joined in the chorus of goodbyes as I pushed my chair in and left the classroom with my lunchbox.

They were more of Hina's friends than mine; I'd mostly ended up spending my lunch breaks with them because I was sat next to Hina. And, well, I didn't particularly want to be alone or bother leaving my desk. They'd been welcoming, and it was a mostly casual friendship. A greeting in the hallway, a minute of small talk, an occasional group outing. And that was fine.

I descended the final set of stairs onto the ground floor, changed out of my indoor shoes, and headed out onto the courtyard. There were only a handful of students outside. I buttoned my blazer up to my neck with one hand before walking to the far end of the courtyard and sitting down on the grass lane running along the inside of the front gate. I leaned against a stone planter and winced as the cold permeated past my blazer. It was a little colder today despite the clear blue sky.

I popped open my lunchbox and fiddled with the chopsticks stored in one of the compartments. After finally picking them up, I began eating Youko's prepared lunch, still warm in the insulated container.

It was a third into my meal that overlapping voices and scrapping footsteps broke the near-silence from halfway down the courtyard. Loud and raucous, uncaring of the people around them. I peeked up to see Takemichi and his friends settle down multiple meters away on the benches to the right side of the yard. I angled my back to face them but continued watching them out of an eye.

"Your 'mysterious dark side'? Pfft, hahaha! You wish man, you wish," Makoto howled and slapped the wooden bench. Yamagishi joined his chortling around a mouthful of sandwich.

"You sure you don't remember any of it? Not even when you beat Kiyomasa?" Takuya inquired from beside Takemichi.

"Don't forget just last week, when Kazutora showed up," Atsushi added from his other side. His pompadour bobbed as he looked at the blond delinquent. "You were a little weird."

"The only things I know about those events are what you guys filled me on!" Takemichi whined. "Seriously, I just sometimes black out, and days or even weeks later, I come back and hear I've done something amazing afterwards. And for some reason, I'm always holding the hand of Hina's little brother when I come back. You know how weird that is? And my other self always burns through my potato-chip stash and allowance! That fucking bastard!"

"If it's any weirder than you right now, I think I fully understand," Yamagishi cackled. Takemichi swatted his arm.

I turned back and continued my lunch, which had been cooling down in the autumn climate. They hadn't noticed me, and leaving could instead draw attention. Their jabber persisted in the background.

So, Takemichi had returned to the future. I bit into an egg roll. He'd left to learn more about Valhalla and the upcoming battle, if I remembered right from the story. I'd expected it to happen at some point, but I was unsure what to expect from it. There wasn't any immediate reason to think I'd affected his side.

There was Baji's charm, I supposed. While he'd still seen it in this universe, perhaps carrying it had affected him on a subconscious level pre-battle. Although, I doubted the lack of it would cancel his investigation into the new gang Kisaki was apparently controlling.

Since Kazutora had showed up to nab Takemichi, I hadn't seen the time traveler outside of school. He'd acted a little differently then, with some pre-existing trust in the tattooed boy that'd presumably resulted from the future.

I tucked my hair behind my ears, out of the influence of the chilly wind. True, I might have not visibly affected the past, but I had somehow affected the future: the events Takemichi had witnessed and the knowledge he'd gained. There was some degree of uncertainty if he'd even teamed up with Chifuyu now. Chifuyu had called out to Takemichi because he'd noticed the time traveler at Valhalla's hideout, but they would miss each other if the time frame shifted. I didn't think I'd messed with that event too much, but Chifuyu and Takemichi becoming allies was critical.

I hadn't seen Kazutora, either. Perhaps I'd been waiting at the wrong times or didn't notice him. Would I be able to reach him in the two days left? Finding him had never been a guarantee and I'd been lucky to even talk with him, but regardless of if I did get another chance to, could I do anything? He hadn't listened to me. Admittedly, I was a stranger who'd barged their way into his business. That part of the plan had been too optimistic, and I needed to rethink it before the battle.

I quietly sat in the courtyard for the rest of lunch, alone with my thoughts.

---

Ugh, it's too bright.

I scrunched my eyes shut and tucked my chin to my blazer as piercing white enveloped my vision. But even after the colorful spots faded, my eyelids remained closed for a few seconds longer, relishing the moment of respite, and then peeled open to abruptly stop myself from wandering into the wall of the school building.

Maybe I should just eat inside today...why is it so damn sunny?

I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand, but that instead evoked a tearful yawn. The cozy temperature wasn't helping, either. The courtyard was the most crowded it'd been all month, with students enjoying the uncharacteristically pleasant weather. My eyes threatened to close again, but I managed to keep them open as I trekked back a few meters for the front door of the building.

A familiar head of copper hair emerged from the door. Alone.

"Oh, hi," Hina greeted. Her lunch box was tucked to her chest. "The weather's really nice outside today. Wanna eat together?"

Huh? "Wha—" I cleared my dry throat. "What about the others?"

"They're all cramming for math. How do you think you'll do? His tests are always so hard." Hina started walking across the courtyard, and I trudged after her.

"Honestly, I forgot it was today. But I think I'll manage." A yawn escaped me.

"You're always really good at math, but good luck! I studied pretty hard for this one after cram school yesterday. Let's just hope he at least gives us enough time." Hina smiled back at me.

"Yeah. Good luck to you, too." We relapsed into silence.

I followed her to the side of the courtyard, where she sat at one of the available benches, dappled in sunlight filtering through the swaying leaves of the trees growing along the fence. I sank down beside her and arched my back, my spine popping in relief. My stomach tightened as I stared at the lunchbox in my lap, but I opened it up and began eating.

"Hey, are you busy tomorrow?" Hina piped up.

Tomorrow. Wednesday. Halloween. I set my lunch back down. "Is...there something up?"

"Yeah, there is! We're planning on joining the Halloween party in town." Hina pumped a fist and grinned. "There's this really big party every year here in Shibuya, if you've never heard about it. My parents didn't let me stay out too late last year, but I got the OK this time. You haven't really been able to hang out with us much lately, Blake-chan."

It was an innocuous statement, but I rubbed my eyes and hid my frown in a yawn. The exact time of the battle should be announced tonight—I knew it'd happen during daylight at least, but that only marginally narrowed it down.

"When are you meeting up?" I asked.

"Five o'clock. We're going to meet up early and mostly hang around that cafe near the station. You know how Karen-chan dislikes the crowds." Hina chuckled and brushed back her bangs. "But if you're coming, you better wear a costume!" Her smile slipped from her face and she peered into my eyes and scowled, yet her eyes remained bright. "It's Halloween!"

That early, huh. If the battle took place during school hours, I might have time afterwards to go. It was all speculation, though, and I didn't want to make any promises. I'd also have to conjure some excuse for why I'd ditched class, too.

"Sorry, Hina-chan, but I'm busy that day...I might have time to join you guys later, though," I hurriedly added as her cheerful expression dimmed slightly.

"It's alright! If you're busy, it can't be helped." Her smile returned. "You can join us anytime, or not if you can't."

We ate with idle chatter. It hadn't always been like this, but I needed to do a lot more after seriously committing to changing the future. More time spent training, building up Frank's relationships, planning out the events—more time allocated to the Toman half of my life. My personal life had to pay for it, but it was a necessary sacrifice. The plot was about Toman—Blake Myers had no tie or connection to it.

"Y'know, Takemichi, you promised you'd buy me lunch yesterday."

Takemichi, Takuya, and Yamagishi sauntered past the bench they'd sat at yesterday, which had been already taken by a pair of boys. I hadn't seen them in the courtyard over the past week except for yesterday, but quite many students had come outdoors today because of the sunny weather.

Takemichi scratched his hair with a frown. "Huh, did I—I mean, yeah I guess I did."

"Yamagishi's just messing with you."

"Hey, don't ruin it!" The bespectacled boy elbowed the long-haired boy beside him.

They continued walking by non-empty benches, approaching us—Hina had her face buried in her lunch as she scraped at the last of her rice—and then passing us as they headed for a spot to sit at...which was the free bench right beside us.

"Oh, Takemichi-kun," Hina piped up as she set down her empty lunchbox and waved.

"Hina!" Takemichi exclaimed.

"Yo, Hina-chan." His friends offered their own greetings. "And hey, M..." Yamagishi paused. "...transfer student."

"It's Myers. Myers, Blake," I said. "Hi." I offered a polite nod as the boys' gazes came onto me, Takemichi's lingering for a few seconds longer than it should have according to my possibly paranoid mind, then I busied myself with my lunch and said nothing further. I yawned mid-bite.

"Oh yeah, you wanna show her your new necklace, Takemichi?"

"Hm?" Our bench creaked as Hina sat taller.

"Yamagishi..." Takemichi groaned.

"What, dude? I just think it's a pretty necklace. Did you get it yesterday? After walking someone home, perhaps?"

"I didn't really get to see it earlier," Takuya joined in. "But it was some sort of green charm."

"Can I see it?" Hina's innocent question broke into their conversation with the force of a battering ram.

I looked up at the sound of rustling cloth. Past Hina, Takemichi pulled out a silver chain from underneath his shirt, a familiar clover pendant swaying from it. "Yeah, it's the necklace you gave me yesterday." He blushed as he looked at Hina. "I just...wanted to wear it."

Her hair brushed her shoulders as she tilted her head, and there was a flash of silver past the back of her collar. "Thank you, Takemichi-kun." I only saw her silhouetted back, but I could hear the smile in her voice. I quietly exhaled with a small smile of my own.

"You and Myers-san are pretty close, huh."

My eyes flickered to Takemichi at his arbitrary comment. He looked back at me without any obvious reaction on his face, his eyebrows relaxed and mouth curled slightly upwards in a seemingly content expression. An expression a little peculiar to be directed at the transfer student who he'd spoken with a total of nine times over the past four months for less than a minute each. Him catching me after I stumbled on the stairs down from Hina's apartment was the most intimate moment we'd had.

He tucked the necklace under his shirt. "Thanks for being with Hina, Myers-san. I hope you two stay friends in the future."

Huh? I shrugged as I became the focus of the group. "She's a...nice girl to hang around with." Hina gave me a serene grin.

"Takemichi, you tryna build up a harem or something? Even after you did that with Draken's girlfriend," Yamagishi hissed at the blond boy. Hina perked up again.

"I've told you so many times Emma-chan and I didn't have— didn't do it! And that was a long time ago." Takemichi shot a glare at his grinning friend.

"Y'know how they say that changes a man. You came back almost an entirely different person after that. Our ol' pal Takemichi, gone." He pushed up his glasses and dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve. "Oh, Takuya, thank God I at least have you."

Takuya leaned away from his faux-sobbing friend as Yamagishi tried to wrap him in a hug. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

I returned to my lunch and let the conversation fade away into background noise.

I'd done something more in the future. There was some underlying meaning to his statements that I could discern that the others, ignorant of his time-travel abilities, would not have caught. It could have just been a random comment, yet something about it, whether it be his delivery or wording, felt too directional to be so.

But...'Frank' was the one involved with Toman, not 'Blake.' I slipped my hand under my bangs, my palm cool against my forehead. I would've tried to avoid attention as myself to reduce the chances of Frank getting exposed.

What if my identity did get exposed, though?

No. I'd met Takemichi as Frank after the meeting Baji had resigned from Toman, and Takemichi hadn't acted any differently. Although, he had just returned from the future and might have learned something new. I could check at the meeting tonight. Just a short conversation with him to see if his perception of me had changed. We were already acquaintances anyway, and despite my trying to avoid him, he'd been oblivious in the few times we did meet. It shouldn't be a risk. I tapped my chopsticks on my finished lunchbox.

But if it's not because of Frank, then there must have been some reason big enough to risk my only foothold in the main plot— my position in Toman.

Takemichi's sudden glance at me when Kazutora arrived at school had been no fluke. Even if Kazutora really had survived, it didn't necessitate things went smoothly. Baji had died in the corrected timeline, even with Takemichi's meddling. And the fact he was still returning to the past meant Hina had died, that I hadn't been able to stop Kisaki whether in this arc or later.

Was it now? Did I need to do more in this arc? I rubbed my eyes and blinked blearily across the bright courtyard from our shaded bench. When was it that future-me had done something to attract attention? Was it during this arc? Next arc? Some arc after that that I hadn't read? Or was it twelve years into the future, long after middle school? In some priceless opportunity to change the future that I'd risked my identity to pursue?

Or perhaps in an attempt in the far future to change the past through the time traveler. But it was just as risky to rely on him to influence the past, especially since he didn't know the events of the near future. Not for him, then, but—

A message to myself? A warning...

I rubbed my eyes again as a dull ache began to prickle at the sides of my skull.

"Blake-chan, are you okay? You looked pretty tired earlier, but now you just seem unwell."

"I'm fine," I said with a tight smile to the concerned girl, her mouth set in a small frown. "It's just a bit of a headache from sleeping late." On the bench beside ours, Takuya and Takemichi laughed at some joke Yamagishi gave.

"If you want to take a quick nap, I can wake you up before class. We have..." Hina flipped open her phone. "25 minutes left. That's plenty of time."

"It's alright, I don't need a nap." But I need more time. I fiddled with my glasses as my head throbbed harder.

"To be honest, you looked half-dead since this morning. You need some sleep." I assume that's why you followed me outside, then. Did I look that tired?

She slipped her finished lunchbox off her lap and scooted closer while extending an arm behind me. I stiffened as Hina gently tugged me closer so that our shoulders touched. "Just close your eyes and take a break. Even if you can't fall asleep, it'll help you feel better."

Her brown eyes stared into mine from less than a foot away. A breeze blew her hair to tickle my cheek, and she tucked it behind her ear. I just blinked back for half a minute, but she stubbornly didn't move from her position. "C'mon, close your eyes."

I raised an eyebrow but complied. Closing my eyes didn't mean I had to sleep. I could just continue thinking, now without her pestering me. Without my sight, I could more vividly hear the soft rustling of the trees overhead, feel the warm sunlight shining down on my extended legs, and smell the crisp autumn breeze.

I opened my eyes a few seconds before the bell from Hina nudging me awake.

---

"I'm not sure how to do this one."

I looked up from the worksheet and leaned over to see the problem Baji was referring to, my pencil still in my hand. He'd done a little work already, but it didn't get very far.

"You already know it's an indeterminate form from plugging the value into the limit. So, you know the function isn't defined at the point, but the limit might still exist. That's good. Then, I'd recommend you combine the rational expressions to see if you can factor anything out—"

Baji's phone vibrated angrily on the wooden table, sending the small black cat off his lap with a chime of its collar.

"Sorry," he muttered and picked up his phone. The screen flipped open to show the caller on the small panel, but he hung up and closed it before I could catch the name. He stowed it away in his trouser pocket and readjusted his thick-framed glasses as he sat back up. "Sorry Myers-san, please continue."

I felt something tickle my legs as Chifuyu's cat slinked back under the desk for Baji, who glanced down as the cat scaled his chair and resettled in his lap. I watched the black cat tuck its paws into its body and close its eyes before I spoke back up for Baji's attention. "As I was saying, you should try to combine them into one expression. If it's a removable discontinuity, you may be able to factor a term out to find the limit, but otherwise, if the conditions are met, you might want to try taking the derivative and using L' H—"

A quieter hum sounded from his pocket, and Baji reached under the cat's tail to pull his phone out. He checked the screen and sighed. I peeked at it and squinted as I tried to discern the squished-together black text without craning my neck for a better angle.

"Is it alright if I quickly call him back?" Baji asked. I drew my eyes back to his face, his hair neatly parted and tied back. "He's the persistent kind of guy who'd keep ringing me until I picked up."

Chifuyu, perhaps? Someone Baji was close enough with to not simply ignore and someone from Toman who was still faithful in Baji despite his betrayal. But regardless of the caller, we'd just started this session, and it'd be a hindrance if his phone kept ringing. "Sure, have a few minutes."

Baji scooped the cat off his lap and lowered it to the ground. It mewed and curled around the leg of his chair. Baji walked out of the room and let the door swing closed behind him, although it lay slightly ajar. I could faintly hear him talk.

"I'm busy right now, so stop calling me...Hah? You wanna talk? We're enemies now, y'know." The floorboards creaked as he listened to the person on the other end. "Even if you tell me you'll wait there all-day, I'm still not coming."

The day before the battle...there would be Mikey's declaration at the evening Toman meeting. Anything involving Chifuyu or Baji in general? I tapped my fingers on the desk.

Chifuyu and Takemichi met with Baji and attempted to convince him they were also suspicious of Kisaki. It hadn't been particularly eventful; I doubted Takemichi spontaneously asking Baji to not die had any notable effects on the events of the battle, nor did Chifuyu's plea for Baji to return to Toman. That was if Takemichi even was working with Chifuyu in this universe—while Chifuyu hadn't had an influential role in this arc compared to Baji, Kazutora, and Takemichi, his absence from Takemichi's side in the next arc could be disastrous. But that was not an immediate concern; this battle with Valhalla was.

Our tutoring session, which presumably didn't exist originally, was keeping Baji from going to speak with them. But it wasn't very important to the overall events, not enough so to cancel our session.

But it's also the last time Chifuyu gets to speak with him before the battle.

I looked down at the small, black form resting beside his chair, its back slowly rising and falling, and made my decision as the door reopened.

"You can go—" / "Sorry, but I—"

We both stopped.

"I need to go," Baji continued. "I'll tell my Ma that we went the entire time, so you won't lose anything."

"It's alright," I said. "If there's something important, then just go. Don't worry about me." I slipped my folder and pencil into my school bag and patted some cat hair off my skirt as I stood up. "I can see myself out if you're in a hurry."

He readjusted his glasses. "It's not that urgent. I'll show you out." Baji waited beside the doorway, and I stepped past the resting cat to reach him. I followed him down the short hallway and to the front door, where he waited for me to put on my shoes before he pushed it open to reveal the blue sky beyond the apartment railing. "See you next week," he said as he held the door.

This was probably the last time I'd see him until the battle, too, I realized with the door just a few steps away. Was there anything I needed to do? My gaze roamed over his face, as if looking for answers. In the reflection of his fake glasses, I could vaguely make out myself, the blond wavy hair and Mizo Middle girls' uniform of Blake Myers.

"Is something wrong?" The reflection disappeared into sharp eyes as he pushed up his glasses.

I shook my head. "No. Bye." I walked outside, and the door closed.

It went by so quick, but it was done, I reflected as I descended the open-air stairs. Perhaps I could've done something. Done what? It wasn't too late, I could still head back, but to do what? I wasn't involved in Toman as myself.

I left the building and walked around the block for my house. On a whim, I stared back at the apartment, where the balconies off each residence jutted out of the wall. Perhaps it was to catch a final glance at Toman's former 1st Division Captain, but all I saw was a small, black form sitting erect at the balcony of the room I'd just left, waiting before the closed, glass door.

---

Kazutora's role in this arc was too pivotal to ignore. If he wouldn't listen to me, then maybe instead—

A dark blur flashed towards my face and crashed into my cheek, knocking my head to the side. I reared back and widened my stance while my arms rose in front of me.

"Ah sorry, I forgot to hold back." Hakkai winced and drew his fists back. "I don't think I hit you that hard, though."

I slowly untensed and stood upright, taking in the tall, concrete walls on either side of us and the setting sun over the wire fence at the end of the alley. I brushed my cheek with my fingers. Hot, but painless. "It's alright, I was—more surprised than hurt," I replied as I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans. I inhaled deeply and tried to steady my breathing.

"You seemed kinda distracted in the latter half."

I met Hakkai's eyes, his face a little flushed from our practice spar but his breathing controlled and gaze cool. "I was," I admitted. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I asked for the fight, after all."

Probably for my sake. I doubted I made a good sparring partner; most of the 2nd Division was likely stronger than me, even if Mitsuya might not have been available. Hmm, now that I thought of him...

"Oh yeah, you—mentioned last time that Mitsuya was acting a little strangely lately. Is he still like that?" I leaned against the alley wall and took a gulp of water from the bottle I'd balanced atop a protruding ledge, trying to not appear overly interested.

"Did I? I thought I just said he seemed busy."

Had he? I tilted my head. I couldn't remember exactly what we'd talked about; the spar had been a fleeting moment compared to the events of the past week. We went at it for an hour, then he suggested another spar and supposedly mentioned Mitsuya was busy, and then I called Mitsuya before dinner, who immediately suspected that...

I looked back at Hakkai, who stared with a neutral expression across the rooftops below past the fence. "It's true, though. He's been kinda distant, and it's like he's not really listening to me."

So you had me try, huh. But it had shown me that Mitsuya wasn't as unaffected as I thought.

If I can't make Kazutora listen to me, then perhaps...

"Anyway...you felt a little different this time at the end. Did you try something?"

"Huh?" I put down my bottle. "I don't think I did, or at least not intentionally. Did I?"

"I'm not really sure, that's why I'm asking you." He laughed and leaned against the wall beside me. "You almost caught me off guard with whatever you did. Try it again when you're in a dire moment, I think that might be quite an interesting thing to face."

I didn't get it. "No offense, but that's not really helping."

The scar across his mouth stretched as his lips curled into an amused smile. "To be honest, I think I have a clue, but it might ruin it if I just outright tell you. Just...try loosening up a little. That's all I'm gonna say."

I apparently did something special just minutes ago. Fight while distracted? Probably not that part. I stared at him expectantly, but he didn't disclose any further explanation. I exhaled and dropped it. "That's fine. Should we eat now or later?"

"I should be asking you that. You look more worn out than I do. You good for it yet?"

"Yeah. I've mostly caught my breath." I stowed my water bottle in my tote bag and slung it over my shoulder. I pulled out the red jacket crammed inside and tied it at my waist, then patted the bag shut over my Toman uniform.

"Anywhere you wanna go?"

"Not especially. I'm alright with wherever you choose."

He hummed and looked out the mouth of the alley, where a few stores lined the end of the street. "Hm, I think I remember Taka-chan saying there was some place that opened here with really good donburi. Wanna try it?"

"Sure, I haven't eaten any outside of home for a while. Let's try it."

---

"It almost feels a little lonely driving to the meeting without you riding behind me. Actually, I don't think I've seen you all week, since you canceled tutoring and couldn't hang out on the weekend," the bald member of the 2nd Division said as I hopped off Hakkai's bike. I handed Hakkai back the spare helmet he'd lent me, which he secured to his bike before leaving with a short farewell into the crowd of Toman members. The parking lot was well-lit from the motorcycles' headlights, of which for every that flickered off, more streamed in from the entrance.

"Sorry, but I was busy this week," I replied with an apologetic smile. "I...might need your help getting me to the battle tomorrow, though, depending on where it'll be." I couldn't remember if the exact location had ever been mentioned in the series, and there was no official 'Abandoned Car Lot' in Shibuya as far as I knew.

Hayato nodded. "Yeah sure, don't sweat it. I could also drive you back tonight," he offered.

"Thanks, but I think I'll walk back today like last time. I just want to do a little exercise before tomorrow."

"Make sure not to overdo it. Don't want to come to the battle feeling sore all over." He laughed. "Valhalla will be a tough fight, and I'd rather not have to drag your unconscious body back...oh, 1st Division Vice-Captain." Hayato subtly lowered his head.

I turned around to see a boy around the same height as me, plasters liberally applied across his face under his blond hair. He slouched with his hands tucked into his pockets. I noticed the absence of a certain other blond boy beside him, but they might've arrived separately. Hopefully, it was just that.

"Mhm. Frank, right?"

Huh? We locked gazes, me the clear subject of his attention. We'd never even talked in the gang...what was this about? "Yeah, I'm Frank," I said. "Is there something you need me for?"

"Could I talk to you for a little bit? In private," he added with a look at Hayato. Hayato looked at me, and I shrugged back.

"Alright." At my response, he turned around and walked away from the shrine, towards the entrance of the parking lot. I followed him after a few seconds, and our boots plodded across the asphalt. He led me to the sidewalk outside the lot, where the headlights of the gang's bikes were still visible through the foliage of the surrounding forest but was otherwise out of sight of the gang, and leaned back against the stone railing with his hands still tucked in his pockets. A black-clothed member swerved into the parking lot a few meters away from us, and I flinched as their tires screeched across the paved road, but Chifuyu maintained his calm posture, his sole eye not covered by bandages focused on me.

"What's Kisaki plotting?"

"What?" involuntarily slipped out of my lips. Chifuyu straightened up and raised a hand to point at me. I leaned back.

"You know something, don't you?" It sounded like less of a question and more of a statement.

Where was this aggression coming from? From what I knew of him, he wasn't a subtle person, but I had never considered that I'd be approached by him. Was he suspicious of me because I'd defended Kisaki last meeting? But surely he wouldn't confront me just on that, would he? Regardless, I didn't want him to get the idea that I was Kisaki's ally.

"I just think Toman's being too hasty to hate him," I defended. "He might not be plotting anything." That had been the gist of what I'd proclaimed to Toman last week.

"And I'm not," said a voice belonging to neither of us.

Chifuyu's head swiveled to the side as Kisaki walked past the foliage and emerged from the parking lot. I did the same slower, although no less startled by his presence. My heart tripped over a beat and crashed against my rib cage.

"I'm not plotting to destroy Toman. Rather, I want to strengthen it, to elevate it to the top gang in all of Japan," he continued in his clipped articulation. "I think Mikey deserves to lead such a gang." He didn't seem to be lying here, at least. Valhalla had won in the first timeline of the series, but Kisaki had rebranded it into a new Toman with Mikey at the head. Kisaki's goal wasn't to destroy Toman—it was to create a Toman and Mikey that he could control.

"It's 'President' for you," Chifuyu sniped. "And why are you listening in on us?" Comfortingly enough, Chifuyu was considerably more aggressive to Kisaki than he'd been to me.

Kisaki paused before responding. "You see, I was looking for you, Chifuyu." Said boy bristled in the edge of my vision. "I was worried that Mikey might have been affected by Baji's departure, and I was thinking that you should properly become the Captain—"

I stepped back as Chifuyu suddenly stalked towards Kisaki, whose eyes widened past his glasses, but he didn't back away. The Vice-Captain halted less than a meter away from Kisaki and removed his hands from his pockets. And considering how Chifuyu cocked his head and ground his teeth, it was not for a friendly hug.

This had probably not originally happened, so should I stop it? What would change if Chifuyu beat up Kisaki? But defending Kisaki more than I already had also had its drawbacks. What should I do? Stop it or not?!

"Chifuyu!" We all turned around to see Takemichi run up from the opposite street and lightly pant on his knees. The Vice-Captain clenched his hands and scrunched his eyes with a loud sigh before walking past Kisaki and disappearing into the lot. Kisaki frowned and watched him leave.

Takemichi adjusted his gakuran. "Hey, Frank-kun," he said to me with a curt nod. I gave a short greeting back, and he followed Chifuyu, sparing a quick look at Kisaki but otherwise ignoring him.

So Takemichi still had allied with Chifuyu. I exhaled. That was good. Very much so. Takemichi also didn't seem to know I was his classmate, although that short interaction wasn't enough to guarantee it. He had been rather friendly to me at lunch today, a friendliness which hadn't carried over to 'Frank.' However, assuming he only saw me as 'Frank,' he felt slightly different, almost a little guarded towards me...?

A shoe scraped against the asphalt. I drew back my attention to Kisaki and the fact that it was just the two of us on the sidewalk. I'd wanted a scenario like this last time, but now granted with it, it was...I swallowed. "I believe we briefly spoke last meeting...could I call you by Kisaki?"

"Sure," he said. After a second of silence between us, he continued walking away.

I may not be an important Toman member, but that's still kinda rude.

I caught up and walked beside him. He wasn't going to entertain any pleasantries, so I might as well go straight to the point.

"Do you know any reason why Takemichi attacked you?" He stared sideways at me. "He's not a normally violent person, so it was pretty strange of him."

The noisy revving and chatter of the gang grew louder as we approached, but I still heard his response, quick and offhand:

"Jealousy, perhaps?"

He disappeared past a burly member of his Division before I could glimpse his expression at those words. The tall boy peered down on me with a non-hostile yet uncompromising stare, and I left elsewhere into the gang.

Kisaki's presence had reignited the tensions, regardless of whether he'd intended for it to. He already had considerable power despite officially joining only last week, but I couldn't have done much about that. I readjusted the collar of my uniform.

His response to my question—Kisaki was certainly not a trustworthy person, but it didn't necessitate that everything coming out of his mouth was a lie. Yet to determine what was true and what wasn't, I needed more than a simple, innocuous remark.

However, 'jealousy' was a curious answer... but that was something to ponder later. I had a task to complete. I scanned over the heads of the crowd, hunting for his distinctive tattoo, but I couldn't find it in a minute of searching. I checked the time on my phone. A few minutes remained until the meeting's scheduled start. I could call him afterwards in the unfortunate scenario we weren't able to speak during the meeting, but it was better to do it in person so that I could observe his reaction.

I tapped the shoulder of a boy leaning against his bike. "Hey, Takeru. Do you know where Draken is?"

"Oh, yo." The Fourth Division member looked down at me. "The Vice-Prez? Ain't seen him yet. Oi, didja guys see the Vice-Prez?" he called to the huddle of boys standing opposite.

"I saw him at the stairs a few minutes ago," one of them replied. "No idea if he's still there."

"That still helps. Thanks," I raised my voice to say.

"Mhm."

I advanced further into the gathering, towards the dimly lit tori gate visible over the crowd, and reached the stairs leading up to the shrine. Raised voices had me stop to watch Peh-yan walk with his head high away from Kisaki, who readjusted his glasses and stared at the former Vice-Captain's back. Kisaki uttered a few words to the boys beside him that had turned to glare at Peh-yan, and the tension dispersed.

I could try to talk with Kisaki again, but it was more urgent to talk with Draken. I kept walking to the inside of the parking lot. Draken was indeed at the stairs, sitting at the bottom step with his chin propped up in his hand, and conveniently enough, alone.

If Kazutora won't listen to me, then maybe instead he'd listen to someone else. Someone he's known for years and still genuinely cares about him.

"Frank. What's up?" Draken lifted his head from his hand and sat up as I stopped in front of him.

"I just wanted to talk about something relating to the battle," I said.

He shifted in place and instead of replying with words, patted the spot next to him. I took the cue to plop down beside him, sat upright to at least surpass the tall boy's shoulders, and withdrew my phone from my pocket. I navigated to my photos and extended my phone in front of us for him to see.

The image of Baji's omamori charm had an interesting effect on him. He sucked in a breath, creased his forehead, then exhaled through his mouth. "Where'd you find this?" he finally said.

"Near the back of the shrine last meeting. It seems like it was an accident; it's almost in pristine condition. There was a photo with it, too." I flicked to the next image: the similarly well-kept photo of Toman's founders. "I returned them to the 1st Division Captain. These were at the spot he ran out from, so I guessed they were his."

He didn't reply, so I continued. "I just thought it's important for you to know before the battle, even if I am being nosy. The gang seemed upset when he left, but I feel like he hasn't actually abandoned Toman. Perhaps there's something or someone else he's doing this for." I carefully chose my words.

It would be more effective for Draken, rather than me, to stop Kazutora at the battle. If I could just give Draken a push to not give up on him, the Vice-President could probably talk him down and in the worst-case scenario, physically stop Kazutora from stabbing Baji. He'd also be able to fight his way through Valhalla to wherever needed. I stared at the palm of my free hand. I'd seen my own uselessness against them only a few days ago.

"I...thanks for sharing this with me, Frank." Despite his ordinarily cool and easygoing demeanor, Draken struggled over his words.

Something ugly twisted in my gut, coiling around my diaphragm and tickling at the back of my throat. I'd attempted to manipulate people before, to make them act as I wanted, but it was different from Atsushi, who'd approached me with distrust, and Baji, who'd shown little overt reaction.

But if it's for a 'good' future, then isn't it alright?

I looked back to Draken as he heaved himself to his feet. "I'm going to go find Mikey to start the meeting." I gave him a small wave and watched him enter the crowd.

The pre-battle meeting commenced ten minutes late.

---

I bobbed my head and strode alongside the fence for several counts to get used to the new beat, then planted my feet, clapped over my head, and dropped down onto the asphalt to throw a leg out to the side as the syncopated rhythm peaked. As the first verse started, I popped back up to my feet and bent a knee inward to initiate the 16-count long sequence of rapid footwork, not as showy as the initial moves but requiring no less focus.

I flicked my wrists and shuffled backwards into the chorus. Arm out, pivot sideways, stomp at the downbeats—

I want to do a backflip.

The unsolicited urge gnawed at the back of my mind. A few counts remained until the climax of the chorus. Would it fit with this choreography? With the tightness of the timing, deviating from the original moves would undoubtedly mess up my rhythm. And besides, I'd never been able to do a backflip before. Here was...I stared down at the asphalt for a moment...not a great place to try. But a backflip at the end— it just felt right. I bent my knees and leaned forward with my arms extended behind.

7

8

1—

I stood frozen in place as the chorus ended. I rose back up, drew my bangs away from my sweaty cheeks, and sauntered over to my tape recorder to turn it off. The quiet buzz of the nearby streetlight resumed. I paced back and forth along the wire fence to cool down, the night air refreshing against my sweaty arms and shins. It was a bit too cold against my exposed stomach, but I needed some way of distinguishing myself from Frank aside from undoing my hair, and tying my long t-shirt above my waist and rolling up my pants were the only changes I could think of with my current outfit.

I rolled my neck and stretched my arms overhead until I felt a pleasing tug. My body felt sorer than normal after this session. Now that I think of it, I haven't danced in several weeks.

I just hadn't had any convenient time to, and it was more practical to spend that time running anyway to fortify my stamina. There always was never enough time, so the most important things took precedence. Since coming to this world, I'd had the free time of my days before uni. But with the battle approaching, the more important priority was obvious.

I arched my back with my hands on my hips. But what was that about with Hakkai earlier? 'Loosen up'... was I too tight with my movements? Did I need to be more agile?

Anyway, that was a half-an-hour of exercise. I stopped beside my tape player and leaned back against the building.

"Tomorrow, we're gonna crush Valhalla and take Baji back!" Mikey's voice echoed in my ears, as clear as it'd been an hour ago.

The event was tomorrow at noon. The moment I'd been preparing for over the past two months. My plans weren't intended to produce immediate results; rather, they would build small investments to be capitalized on during the battle, when Kisaki wouldn't be able to modify his plans if he noticed any shortcomings. Besides, drastically altering the future would waste my knowledge. Just small, incremental changes: strengthen Baji's friendship with Kazutora, spark Kazutora's awareness of the people who care about him, and reignite Draken's desire to save Kazutora. Not all had succeeded, although it was too late to do more.

But if I did need to interfere, there was a person I could depend on to get me to where Kazutora should be. That part was, in fact, probably the most guaranteed event of this entire operation. A wry smile formed on my face.

It had only been a week-and-a-half since the nomination ceremony, when the arc began. Compared to the Moebius arc, I'd done a lot of preparation. If the festival fight had concluded well, then surely this fight would, too. Surely... I stared over the empty parking lot and the apartment complexes across the road, the motionless streets immune to the passing of time.

I had been quite lucky that nothing major changed from my presence, especially after I'd begun taking decisive measures to alter events. Well, in retrospect, they hadn't been drastic changes, but the butterfly effect did describe the potential for chaos to erupt out of the tiniest of actions.

Everything was all to stop Kazutora from killing Baji tomorrow. No matter what, that could not happen.

I should probably head back. I won't make the mistake of sleeping late again.

I undid my ponytail and slipped on my fake glasses. My hair was still damp from washing out the gel and now sweat, but it felt pleasingly cool against my scalp. I slipped my tape recorder inside my tote bag, between my gang uniform and shoebox, and started back home.

What would I say to Youko and Shigeru? Noon...smack dab in the middle of school hours. I tapped my chin as I strode down the sidewalk.

Hina mentioned there's a Halloween parade in the city. Maybe I could say I went to see it during the day with Hayato?

To drag Hayato in again...I knew he'd agree if I asked; he was the kind of guy who'd go out of his way to be helpful, but I'd been relying on him too much. Asking him to drive me to the battle was enough. To the parade by myself, then. Chances were they'd not let me leave during school hours, so I'd just apologize afterwards.

I passed by a field of gravestones, hard shadows cast on their sides by the pale streetlights bordering the cemetery. Each grave was an impressive monument on its own, rectangular stone slabs that extended a meter up from a concentric base. Colorful bouquets adorned many tombstones. The thick trees that encompassed the wide lot were black silhouettes against the city lights beyond.

Huh, it's the graveyard I saw Mikey at a while ago. I'd taken a detour for the short dance session, and I didn't frequent this path. I slowed my pace as I walked along the railing, scanning over the deserted cemetery, and came to a stop at the ramp leading inside.

Why not?

I walked up it and started checking the engraved names as I strolled down the outer side of the graveyard. Suzuki, Yamada, Tanaka, some name I couldn't read, Matsuda... I immediately realized my mistake.

Shit, they're not organized by name. Which, well, wouldn't make much sense since they'd have to then shift around the graves whenever someone—hell, anyone—died.

Where had Mikey been? I halted. That'd been nearly two months ago; heck if I remembered which out of two-hundred graves.

Whatever. It was the thought that counted, right? I backtracked to the middle end of the cemetery and stared over all the gravestones. I'd never been to a graveyard, much less a Japanese one. I wasn't religious either, even if my presence here implied the existence of some supernatural being.

Hopefully this wouldn't somehow curse me instead.

I closed my eyes and clasped my hands in front of me. A cool breeze rustled my bangs, but I ignored it and focused on internally vocalizing my message, as if I was speaking in my head.

"I'll stop everyone from dying. That was my answer, and I'll do whatever it takes to make it reality. I won't let Mikey lose another person close to him. I swear it, Sano Shinichirou."

I maintained my position for a few moments longer, then reopened my eyes. The graveyard was still, and there was no unearthly response to my prayer. Good, because I'd probably run off screaming if there was. This was just a silent little ceremony, privy to me and the deceased.

Scrapping footsteps from the road had me slowly look backwards while staying as still as I could. A lone figure ambled down the street, head lowered and absorbed in thought. But even in the dim light, I could distinguish Kazutora's nest of hair, streaked with blond.

I'd never been able to find him since we'd spoken at Valhalla's hideout. It wasn't too late; I could still do something before the battle. Tomorrow had to go well because there were no second chances.

But I'm 'Blake' right now. If my identities get exposed, then I can't do anything. It's over.

However, when I'd last seen Baji at our tutoring session, the regret I'd felt at not being able to say anything...

"...hey!" I called out. My voice echoed through the empty street.

Kazutora stopped and peered up at me. "What?" His mouth was in a neutral frown, but his tone of voice didn't sound particularly aggressive. He didn't recognize me.

He wordlessly waited as I walked over to him, and I sat down to get closer to eye-level and stared through the gaps in the railing separating us. Be gentle and discreet. "You...looked a little troubled. Are you alright?"

Kazutora adopted his emotionless grin. "I'm perfectly alright. Y'know, it's dangerous to be out here at this time. Don't know what kinda people can be prowling around."

"I could say the same to you," I countered as I stared into his unblinking eyes. "'Prowling around' in thought. Is something on your mind? If you want to vent, I'm all ears...if you don't want to, that's fine, too," I added on as an afterthought.

"I don't."

Well, it wouldn't be that easy. I was silent for several seconds after I quietly sighed. "That's fine," I repeated. I pushed myself off the ground despite my body suddenly growing lethargic. "Good luck with whatever you have going on. Whether it goes your way or not, just...stay safe." I turned away and left for the graveyard's exit.

I only heard my own footsteps as I walked along the railing. Was he just standing there? But I refrained from looking back. I'd said I wouldn't bother him. Blake had tried and ultimately failed, but it was an improvement from doing nothing.

"Stay away from the abandoned car lot tomorrow."

My eyes widened, but I shut them with a small smile. There still was hope of changing him back to how he was before the incident. The capacity to show human kindness implied the ability to empathize, to feel compassion, and to love. If not for his hatred of Mikey, born out of confusion and denial, he might have become a different person.

I raised a hand in acknowledgement of his warning while I strode down the ramp and continued back home.

It wasn't too late for Kazutora—I just needed to stop him before he did something irredeemable.