A/N: I am tweaking the battle slightly to give it more organization. You'll see what I mean shortly.

This applies to any chapter, but If I ever do anything insensitive, please inform me so that I can try to fix it.

"Hayato, Frank!"

"Yo," Hayato returned to the 2nd Division member as we strode up to the crowd of black tokko-fuku clad boys. I gave a small wave.

It was strange to see the gang in uniform in broad daylight—on the meet-ups I'd been invited to, we'd all wear casual clothes. The only times I'd seen them in tokko-fuku were during meetings and at the festival fight, both of which happened at night. In fact, this would be my first time fighting in uniform. I pushed my sleeves back up to my wrists and readjusted my collar. I stared down at my tokko-fuku with a frown, the black fabric loosely draping over my chest, pinching in at the smallest size the accompanying belt offered, and flaring back out into clunky, white boots. A size too big was better than too small, but I should've at least tried actively moving around in it beforehand.

It was too late now, but I'd get plenty of practice soon.

The towering heads of the gang blocked my view of the car lot, but above the encompassing fence, I could see weathered warehouses lining the right side and tall heaps of haphazardly balanced cars pushed to the corners of the abandoned property. But most obvious was the restless chatter and yelling from within, like a concert hall waiting for the main spectacle.

Everything would be decided within an hour or two. Who won, who lost; who lived, who died.

"Do you know when it'll start?" I asked after Hayato's conversation with the boy who'd greeted us paused.

"I think there'll be at least a few more minutes. I hear the 1st Division Vice-Captain's not here yet." I didn't bother joining Hayato in craning my neck to see if that was true. Chifuyu and Takemichi should have entered the lot early to observe the battlefield.

"Oh yeah, this is your first fight, right?"

"I was at the Moebius fight," I corrected.

He scratched his gelled hair. "Huh, it doesn't feel like you'd been here for that long already. Probably 'cause we didn't really talk before then. But anyways, that fight was kinda an exception," he said with a flick of his wrist. "Usually it's more structured than that. There's generally some proceedings before the battle, especially since we've got an overseer today. And during the battle, you're still free to go ham, but try to not stray too far from the Division. The Captains might give orders in the middle of the fight."

"Kinda like when before Toman arrived at the Moebius fight, when it was just you, me, Takemitchy, and Mitsuya, and we were about to clash with Moebius," Hayato added. "Although, Mitsuya normally doesn't have us join the vanguard. Usually that's the 1st Division's job."

I nodded as I took in the information. "I see. Thanks."

The Division would be moving together, huh. There were definite advantages to that—if I had trouble fighting, I could receive assistance from a nearby member. I could also follow the Division to navigate through the battle instead of charging in solo. But the problem lay in the fact that it depended on where the Division went. The most important events would likely occur at the forefront of the battle, and if the 2nd Division stayed back, I really might have to fight my way through on my own, depending on if my plan went awry...

A sneering face inches above mine flashed through my mind, and the sensation of cold, wet stone against my back sent a shiver up my spine.

"—!" I shook my head and peered at the gate after a rough voice bellowed from inside. The chattering softened, and near the front of the gang, a dark flag unfurled over the heads of the members, the flagpole dragged through the air in an oscillating motion to proudly display Toman's logo on the dark fabric.

"Seems we're finally starting," Hayato commented and straightened up. The rest of the gang similarly reacted, facing front and standing at attention.

"Both gangs, enter!" the same voice cried.

The gate was not wide enough to simultaneously accommodate the five Divisions of Toman lined up, so the gang converged into itself as it funneled into the car lot. I stuck close behind Hayato as tall bodies pressed in from either side, and my hearing became dominated by the marching of heavy boots. Softer mutterings from past the gang grew more audible with each step I took. I passed through the fence, where the gang fanned back out into the separate Divisions, allowing me to see the scattered crowds of delinquents spectating from the edges of the grounds that wore neither Toman's tokko-fuku or Valhalla's bomber jackets. Most of them were looking at the front of the gang—at Mikey, who'd stopped a little away from the sole boy in the center of the car lot. Hansen, if I recalled correctly. Draken stayed a few paces behind, and the four current Captains were further back, leading each of their Divisions.

I could also now view the white-jacketed gang parading in from the opposite end of the lot, led by Hanma, a veritable beanpole among the abnormally tall teenagers. Just behind him was Kazutora, his face too far away to clearly distinguish but his streaky hair distinguishable enough, and further back were a handful of boys in front of the main body of the gang, presumably their Captains. I squinted but couldn't spot Baji's long, black hair among them. That was fine for now.

"Representatives, approach!" Hansen called.

Draken walked forward and overtook Mikey, the white sash tied across his back swaying. Kazutora came over to meet him, the white-jacketed boy comically short relative to both Hanma and now Draken.

The Vice-President had his back to us, and his tall form gave nothing away. What was he thinking as he quietly stared at Kazutora, especially considering what I'd said to him last night at the meeting?

I just needed to prevent Kazutora from killing Baji. It was that simple. I either needed Kazutora to hesitate at and rethink the order to stab Baji, or Draken to be at his side to physically stop it. Baji would undoubtedly confront Kisaki and set a target on himself, and Kazutora would consequently receive the command. The shock of it might even be enough to bring Kazutora back to his senses, but it could be addressed afterwards in the more likely case it wasn't enough. Regardless of the exact outcomes, Baji could not die.

Reestablishing their relationship beforehand (in a safer and less volatile situation) could throw the battle in disarray, considering Kazutora's pivotal roles outside of stabbing Baji, and I needed to keep the events orderly to best manipulate the future. It was both the riskiest and safest plan I could conceive. All my bets were on this battle.

Hansen stood in-between the two boys, his slack posture immune to the silent tension among the participating and spectating delinquents. "Will you be doing a brawl between five representatives, or a free-for-all with everyone?" he drawled.

Draken responded in a calm voice. "We're fighting to take our friends back. You and Baji. If Toman wins, we're taking you back by force."

There was a slight tingle in my chest. He hadn't shown any sentiment for Kazutora last night, but this...this renewed resolve in him was what I'd tried to achieve, what I'd hoped for. Draken had been a hasty back-up plan to my direct interference, but considering my limited success with Kazutora and Baji, his involvement was looking necessary. A few Toman members muttered to each other in surprise at the announcement, but Mikey didn't seem to react.

"This again?" I perked my ears as Kazutora responded. He shook his head and gave a harsh sigh. "Well fine, sure. As we're not going to lose, and Toman will be missing a leader by the end of this fight."

"If you're done with the banter," Hansen interrupted, "which will you be doing? A five-on-five, or a—"

I winced at the cracking of bone as Kazutora suddenly decked our overseer in the face. Hansen crumpled onto the ground and lay motionless. All quiet chatter from Toman died.

"Everyone, of course!" Kazutora swept his arms out to indicate our gang. "What's the point if I can't hand all of Toman their asses? And besides, wouldn't want Mikey to pussy out," he jeered past Draken. Mikey didn't reply. Several members around me stiffened and clenched their hands into fists.

"Hey Mikey, you ready yet?!" Hanma yelled from the forefront of Valhalla. "'Cause ready or not, we're still coming!"

In response, Mikey uttered a single, quiet command that penetrated the silence among Toman.

"Go."

With a mighty roar that left my ears ringing, Toman surged forward as one, and I let myself be swept up by the crowd. I could see the mob of white similarly rushing at us, and the once-vast gap between us, so large that their faces had been less than centimeter wide, rapidly shrunk to the point where Hayato dashed forward a meter to tackle a Valhalla member to the ground and another member locked eyes with me and charged in my direction.

I forced myself to not shy back but lean towards him. That time against Valhalla had been during the rain, and I'd slipped after being startled, which had immediately given them the advantage. The festival fight was similar, with a downpour and dim lighting. But right now, I was in broad daylight, on dirt-paved ground that offered plenty of traction, and surrounded by my allies. I took a deep breath and readied my fists.

His right arm cocked back over his shoulder and left hand reached towards my collar.

1

Deflect his extended arm overhead and offload a swift kick at his foremost knee to break his pace without shifting my position too much.

But the uniform's boots were heavier than I was used to and constricted the mobility of my ankles, so I had to lean a little off-center and put more strength into my leg.

The results were...unexpected.

My boot slammed into his upper calf with a dull slap, and I stumbled back as my excess momentum was dissipated. But it did mess up his rhythm—actually, it nearly swept his leg out from under him. The targeted leg skidded a full ten centimeters, and he cursed as his balance veered to the side.

I leapt at the opportunity and charged forward to ram my elbow into his side and further knock him off-balance. He tried to grab at my uniform as he fell, but I veered back to avoid his outstretched hands. After he hit the ground, I dove back in and straddled his waist, trapping one of his arms under him. I ground his other hand into the dirt and dragged it under my knee, although I reduced the pressure when his face contorted. He was shorter than the other boys and still a little taller than me, but my weight was enough to pin him down. He squirmed under me, twisting and trying to free his arms, but he remained stuck.

I stared down at his helpless form. That had been very, very quick. Although he didn't look as physically strong as my prior opponents, I'd still been somewhat doubtful of my performance since pretty much all my solo fights had ended poorly for me. Hakkai kept beating me in our spars, but he was a Vice-Captain and had a reaction time on par with a stubborn housefly. Maybe I really had improved.

This was a foreign position to be in. I hesitantly raised my fists. Should I hit him? To submission or to unconsciousness? He continued to struggle under me. If I let him go, he'd attack the others, but now that I'd pinned him down, it just...didn't feel right to hit him. I nibbled on my lips and lowered my head.

I blinked as he went slack. But I felt his stomach tense up, and he suddenly hurled his upper body forwards, his snarling face on course to crash into mine.

Before I could react, a black-sleeved arm shot into my opponent's head, jarring his body so violently that my knees shifted on the ground. He fell back down like a severed puppet, his body limp.

"I don't know what you're waiting for, but just know that if you offer them a chance, they'll take advantage of it to win," Peh-yan said from above me. "There's nothing more shameful than giving up in the middle of a fight."

I looked up at him, his expression unperturbed and arms hanging at his sides. "Thanks, I'll...try to keep that in mind." He gave a curt nod before rushing at a Valhalla member whose back was turned.

I gently repositioned the unconscious boy's crooked head and felt where Peh-yan had hit him. No external bleeding or broken bones from what I could tell through touch alone, but brain trauma was still no small injury. I hovered my hand over his mouth. He was breathing, at least. However, I couldn't spend too much time here. I stood up and looked around. While I'd been distracted by my opponent, the initial clash had ended. There were already several casualties, of roughly an equal number of white and black-clothed boys resting or collapsed on the ground. A Valhalla member slammed into the dirt a few meters away, and a boy from the 4th Division rained down blows on him. I averted my gaze and tried to not focus on any particular fight.

I shouldn't have to search through the crowd to find Kazutora—he'd lead Mikey to the car pile for its unstable footing eventually. But which pile? I scanned the perimeter of the property. There were several tall heaps concentrated around the corners of the lot. I could see at least a handful of spectators on each stack, but if the battle made it to them, they'd probably just evacuate. But I would at least be able to spot Mikey and Kazutora above the battle when they ascended one of the piles.

There were numerous Valhalla members waiting at the sidelines of the fight. I frowned. Valhalla was roughly twice as big as Toman, and while it was too early in the battle to determine how even the fight currently was, the discrepancy in numbers would tip it in Valhalla's favor if the entire gang engaged.

"Frank!" I spun around at Hayato's voice in time to dodge the fist swung at me. The stocky newcomer clicked his tongue and pivoted on his heel to unleash his other fist, but he was too close to easily evade.

1

Twist my torso at a 45-degree angle and raise my elbow to my face with my other hand against it for support, then brace for impact.

The fist crashed against my forearm and sent me skidding back from the sheer force, but I was able to stay on my feet. I spared a second to grimace and shake my tingling arm. He rushed at me with his hand outstretched.

2

Hunch down and stomp a foot forward to impale him in the stomach with my other elbow from his own momentum.

Despite widening my stance for stability, I was still pushed back when we collided. I heard him hack for air over me, and my legs strained as he collapsed onto me. I grunted as I tried to untangle myself from the broad-shouldered boy without falling over. If this turned into a grapple, I'd definitely lose. Strength was one of my biggest weaknesses.

A hand grabbed the scruff of my uniform and yanked me backwards out from under my opponent. I had a second to process what'd happened before Hayato whacked him across the jaw with an open palm, sending him tumbling back. He strode to the fallen boy and kicked him once in the chest with his heel, then left him coughing on the ground.

So it was enough to just wind them. That was better than the alternative of trying to knock them unconscious. I exhaled.

"Sorry for pulling you like that," Hayato said and patted my back. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks for the save." I straightened my collar and gave him a small smile.

"We're in a bit of a tight spot right now, so I'm gonna go now. But you've gotten a lot better, Frank. Keep it up." He waved and left into the battle.

As Hayato said, Toman was starting to falter. More members of our gang had fallen, and Valhalla still had plenty of reinforcements waiting for their turn. But it was nothing unexpected. In fact, this was good. I wanted the battle to play out the same, up to the point where Baji attacked Kisaki. I swept my gelled hair back.

Actually, where were they? I looked around for familiar faces. The 2nd Division had mostly stuck together near the back of the lot. I squinted at the vanguard of our main force, which had been pushed back since the last time I'd checked. That orange blob of hair was probably Nahoya, so the 4th Division was near the front. There seemed to be a second Division fighting alongside them, but I couldn't distinguish their Captain or any members. Hayato had mentioned the 1st Division usually fought at the forefront, so perhaps that was them.

Huh, where were Chifuyu and Takemichi? Even if I'd blocked Takemichi from obtaining Baji's charm, he still was my insurance. I didn't know how, but he'd seen the future after this battle; surely, he'd come up with something. I needed to be careful to keep him up and about. I couldn't see him among the 2nd Division, so where the heck had he wandered off to?

"I'mma kick all your asses!" a boyish voice screamed over the battle from halfway down the car lot.

Aight, found him.

I was not alone in stopping to stare at the clamor at the center of the battlefield, and although I couldn't make out what exactly was happening there, a united battle cry bellowed across the lot, and a torrent of black forms surged forward and tore into Valhalla's flank. My eyes shot to the front of the wave, and sure enough, for just an instant, I caught a flash of a white sash.

"Damn," a 2nd Division member whistled from beside me as he struggled to his feet and swept back his disheveled pompadour. "They're tearing them apart. Hey, dude," he said as we made eye contact. "Let's not lose to them." He held out a fist to me and smirked.

We'd never talked before, but I accepted his invitation by returning the fist-bump. "Sure, let's fight together."

Theoretically, I shouldn't have to participate in the battle other than as an ordinary member of Toman. Draken would be able to reach Kazutora and stop him when the time came. Regardless, I still needed to keep track of where Kazutora was, especially after Baji attacked Kisaki. If events didn't play out the way I wanted them to, and much of my plan had an uncomfortably large amount of uncertainty, then I'd have to go with the original plan before I'd decided yesterday to have Draken be the one to stop Kazutora. For now, I just needed to observe.

"2nd Division!" We both looked back at where Mitsuya's voice had yelled from. He stood several meters away at the edge of our Division, closest to the center of the battle and surrounded by a pile of collapsed opponents. The white sash tied at his back flared out as he swept his arm to the side. "I'm heading further into the battle," he announced. "Jo, Hayato, with me! Hakkai, take control. I'm counting on you all!"

I joined in the shouts of acknowledgment. Hayato and the buffest member of the 2nd Division fought their way over to our Captain before the trio disappeared into the crowd. Perhaps it would've been better if I'd gone along to get closer to the center of the battle...I shook my head. It was already too late, anyway.

"You heard him!" Hakkai shouted. It was easy to spot the tall Vice-Captain, who was slinging a fist at an equally tall Valhalla member. "Let's clear these losers out!"

The Division roared in agreement, and the black-clothed boys around me surged forward, those resting on the ground pushing themselves back up to join the rush. I followed my temporary partner and joined him as the Division clashed against a new wave of opponents.

A pair of Valhalla members leapt at the boy beside me, one swinging a wooden bat and the other arching back a fist. An understanding was shared between my partner and I as we met eyes, and I dashed forward to intercept the closest member, the one with the bat, to let him focus on the other opponent.

Fighting someone wielding a weapon wasn't a new experience, and a stick had more glaring weaknesses than a knife.

1

Assertively advance into his guard before he can complete his swing and attempt to knock the bat out of his hand.

I halted less than a foot away from him and slammed a palm against the butt of the bat while he was mid-swing, but while it didn't tumble out of his grasp, I did feel his weapon jerk, and I leaned back to deliver a high-kick and finally disarm him—

Peh-yan barged his way into my fight with a harpoon-like fist that rammed into my opponent's face, knocking his head sideways and throwing his body back a meter.

And as soon as he'd come, he left to sock another white-jacketed member.

I blinked as I watched the bat harmlessly roll out of the unconscious boy's motionless fingers. Quick, efficient, and brutal.

Note to self: do NOT pick a fight with Peh-yan.

"Damn, Peh-yan's out for blood today." I faced my temporary partner, whose prior opponent was similarly collapsed at his feet with a bright red welt across the cheek. Both unfortunate victims were still breathing, though. I brought my attention back to the battle as I dodged a newcomer's fist.

There was little time to rest, and for each combatant the Division defeated, a fresh face replaced them. However, we were making veritable ground, leaving behind a trail of winded Valhalla members. I spared a second to glance around. It seemed the other Divisions shared in our renewed vigor, and Toman was gaining momentum in its steady advance.

But past the frenzied fighting, there was some shouting near the warehouses. I stood on the tips of my boots and tried to peer over the battle. Our Division had advanced closer to the center, and I could more easily make out the Valhalla members standing by the sidelines, forming a clearing around and watching—

Draken accepted Hanma's punch on his forearms and took the opportunity to unleash a heavy blow, but at the last second, Hanma diverted Draken's fist with the outside of his elbow and uncurled it to backhand Draken across the face. It didn't faze the Vice-President, who immediately followed up with an uppercut that cracked against Hanma's chin.

Draken was occupied fighting Hanma. That meant he couldn't reach Kazutora in the first place. My blood turned to ice, burning as it coursed through my body.

This wasn't even a new development; it'd happened in the series. But I'd forgotten. I'd forgotten Draken would be busy during the battle when I conceived this half-assed and ill-thought-out modification to the plan just yesterday while sleep deprived. And from what Draken had said at the proceedings before the battle, he might be aiming to beat Valhalla first rather than confront Kazutora directly. I glared down at my boots, off-white with smudges of dust and dirt.

There'd been too much uncertainty, and I'd lost that gamble.

I might have to be the one to stop Kazutora.

It sounded unrealistic; I could barely hold my own against ordinary opponents, and Kazutora had refused to acknowledge my words. I couldn't fight or talk to him. That was why I'd chosen Draken to take that role instead.

I checked each potential pile of abandoned cars, and sure enough, on the stack beside the warehouses, I could see tiny figures jumping around near the top: Mikey taking on two white-jacketed boys, and presumably Kazutora standing a few meters away on the apex of the hill.

The 2nd Division was closer to the warehouses from our new position. I should have several minutes of leeway to reach the former Toman member before Baji appeared and Kazutora received the order to attack him. I was still certain Baji would target Kisaki.

But could I even fight my way over there? I rammed my shoulder into the legs of a Valhalla member as he rushed at my fallen partner, and our opponent tumbled over me and landed on his side. Yet he kicked out at my ankle, and I tried to sidestep it but wobbled unsteadily as his shoe clipped the edge of my boot. His hand shot out and clenched my baggy pants, and he yanked my leg out from under me. I managed to catch myself on my palms and roll into a crouch, but enough time had passed for my partner to catch his breath and offload a haymaker at our opponent's head.

I was doing better than expected, but I doubted I'd be able to charge into the fray by myself. However, as equally certain as I was that Baji would attack Kisaki, Kisaki would surely...

My head swiveled back to the car pile as I caught a lone dark figure ascending to Mikey's fight, his white sash flowing behind him and short, pale heather hair visible against the grimy cars.

"Mitsuya?!" I hissed. What, what, what? I was pretty sure I was not misremembering that Mitsuya did not appear at Mikey and Kazutora's fight.

Mitsuya was one of the founders, and he was also a potential ally who could stop Kazutora. My lips parted at the realization. As for what spurred him to act here, either Takemichi had done something without my knowing or...could it have been that phone call I gave him? Nah, that seemed a little too contrived, but it technically wasn't impossible.

The exact cause was unimportant. I watched Mitsuya continue to climb up. What did matter was that Mitsuya could fulfill the role I'd meant for Draken. But I couldn't take any more chances; I needed to go myself. I pried my eyes away from the heap and scanned over the mob of fighters on ground-level.

Alright, where's the 3rd Division?

---

"We'll hold them off—go ahead, Mitsuya!" Hayato yelled as he punched an enemy away. Beside him, Jo gave a low grunt as he blocked a metal pipe with his forearms.

Mitsuya gave them a final look before planting a boot on the hood of a scratched sedan and heaving himself up onto the car, his sights set on Mikey fighting two boys of Valhalla at the top of the heap. The metal creaked under him. Mitsuya stomped on the surface using a heavy boot to test its durability, and it held.

"Alright, then."

He squared his shoulders and inhaled before leaping upwards, slamming his foot onto the car above him and using it to propel him to the next.

Hayato and Jo could hold their own at the bottom, but he'd best not dawdle. Mitsuya would have preferably chosen to bring Peh or Hakkai along as the heaviest hitters in his Division, but they were needed back there. He eyed the SUV halfway embedded right above him in the pile, its back pair of wheels hanging in the air, and hopped to an adjacent car instead to search for a better foothold.

But with his attention mostly allocated to climbing the makeshift mountain, he could only spare brief glances at Mikey's fight.

It was strange. Mitsuya understood how the unstable footing could be a hindrance to Mikey's abilities, but he knew the boy could fight far better than this despite the handicap. He could've ended his fight already. He watched Mikey slam a fist into one boy's head, who fell back onto the hood of the car beside them but leapt back up and locked his arms around Mikey's waist, and the other Valhalla member aided in trapping the boy. Kazutora jumped down onto their level with a crooked pipe in hand.

Regardless of why Mikey was holding back, Mitsuya would not intentionally let him get hurt.

He scaled the final car and dashed in front of Mikey to receive Kazutora's swing, and the pipe jarred his crossed forearms but ricocheted back. He winced as he let down his arms to stare at his old friend, who let his makeshift weapon hang at his side but otherwise didn't react.

Mitsuya hadn't seen him since years ago, a few days before Mikey's birthday, before he'd been detained. His careful pompadour was replaced by a messy nest of streaky hair and he wore the white bomber jacket of Valhalla, but he had the same hollow eyes, bereft of light. Mitsuya hadn't known him prior to when Baji introduced him into their friend group, but perhaps those eyes had once held something resembling life.

He'd ignored it back then, but he'd made numerous mistakes in his past. Meeting Draken, joining Toman, and meeting the best friends he never knew he'd have were not one of them.

Mitsuya spoke. "Mikey's not trying to fight you, Kazutora. You know he's leagues stronger than this. Can't we just stop fighting and talk?"

Metal creaked from behind him. "Hah? As if!" Mitsuya turned around as one of the boys holding down Mikey lunged for him.

Yeah, Mikey really had been holding back against these guys.

Mitsuya batted aside the stray fist and delivered a solid hook into the boy's ribcage, and his opponent collided against the windshield of a muddy sportscar at the center of the heap with an audible crack. The rusted construction crane supported by the car heap tottered slightly, but the stack remained motionless. Despite how haphazard it looked, the pile of cars was rather stable.

The 2nd Division Captain looked back at the other boy restraining his leader. He gripped Mikey tighter, snaking an arm higher to lock Mikey's knees together, but gave no indication of interfering. Mikey likewise made no attempt to escape and seemed content with just watching. Mitsuya himself wasn't sure what Mikey thought of Kazutora because the boy rarely spoke about him since his detainment, but Mikey didn't look angry at the moment. Just quiet rumination, sealed behind a frown. A rare sight from Mikey, but from his years at the boy's side, Mitsuya could wager a guess about his leader's quandary—it was the exact one he was having.

"We're not your enemies," Mitsuya said. "This cruel, merciless violence—back then, you used to get into fights as much as Baji did, but you'd never go this far. Why are you fighting us? What are you fighting for?"

Despite his current allegiances, Kazutora was still a friend who'd been with Toman from the start.

Kazutora scoffed and tapped his pipe against his shoulder. The dull metal glinted in the sunlight. "You're as soft-hearted as Draken. When did the reason ever matter?" He stalked forward, and Mitsuya forced his body to relax.

He met Kazutora in the eye. "It always matters. You—"

"Shut up. You and Toman aren't my enemies. But if you're on his side, then I'll kill you."

Mitsuya had less than a second to brace himself before Kazutora slammed the pipe into his side, and his boots lost traction on the car roof as he was sent flying off the summit.

---

"TAKA-CHAN!"

I spun around to look at the car heap after Hakkai's yell. Our Captain had somehow fallen about two-thirds of the way down, and he stood up from his crouch while staring up at the boys on the hill. But he glanced back down in reaction to something and jumped down to punch an ascending Valhalla member off the base of the pile.

The last time I'd looked, Mitsuya was talking with Kazutora. Had someone pushed him off? Kazutora stood at the apex with his pipe, and only one of the other boys from Valhalla remained conscious and was restraining Mikey—

With remarkable ease, Mikey flung the member holding his leg into the passenger window of the car beside him and dashed forward to punt Kazutora in the chest. He soared through the air a few meters and crashed into the rear of a pick-up truck, where he heaved for air as his torso bent over the frame then went slack. Mikey hopped down the heap, his head downcast, and headed for Kazutora.

Kazutora probably hadn't been receptive to Mitsuya, which triggered Mikey's wrath in turn. But surely that hadn't just fast-forwarded to Mikey killing him...I watched with unblinking eyes as Mikey stepped closer and closer to the fallen boy. Baji's death had been the stimulus. But Kazutora striking Mitsuya shouldn't have been enough to incur the same rage. Right...? There was no hope of me reaching them in time, and all I could do was pray that Mikey wouldn't murder Kazutora then and there.

Mikey landed beside Kazutora, looked down at him, then continued descending with no particular haste.

"Holy shit..." I muttered and clutched my heart. It still wasn't optimal that Mikey was moving down the pile, but that mattered little in comparison to an early end. Safe for now.

But during the time Mitsuya talked to Kazutora, I'd located the 3rd Division in the battlefield, fighting steadily at the sidelines not too far away from my current position. It seemed smaller than I remembered it, with roughly twenty members, but I couldn't find the rest of their numbers nearby. They seemed to be in decent fighting shape and uninjured for the most part.

I broke away from my Division and dashed for them. The battle had largely thinned out compared to the start, and I met little resistance. A hand soared past me as I sidestepped a white-jacketed boy and continued running.

I skidded to a halt at the edge of the 3rd Division's space. There were a handful of faces I recognized over the course of the two months they'd been in Toman, boys I'd seen around the meetings but never talked to. A few members nearby stared at me but gave no other overt reaction.

I watched Mikey continue to descend from halfway down the heap. The pivotal events would occur around him, and while I also didn't want to diverge further from the plot, visibility would be drastically reduced on the ground compared to uphill for both me and him.

C'mon, Mikey's alone and visible for everyone to see. Strike already.

"Hey, Mikey's stranded!" a low voice I didn't recognize called across the car lot, timing almost as if on cue. "To me, men! Let's knock that brat off his perch!"

Finally. Knew I could count on Kisaki to be on time.

The announcement spurred a wave of excited muttering, and past the fighting members, I saw flashes of a white horde rushing forward, shoes stampeding and voices raised in battle cries. The huge force easily tore through Toman's vanguard, which despite attacking with renewed ferocity as they realized they were the President's last line of defense, offered little resistance to the sheer numbers of the mob.

I perked my ears. Kisaki would probably give some sort of rallying cry to save Mikey—

I stumbled as around me the 3rd Division suddenly sprinted straight forward, not directly towards the heap, but on a path along the perimeter of the fence that was very conveniently devoid of opponents. Kisaki might have instead given them orders beforehand, considering their cohesiveness. I took off after them. I wasn't a strong or experienced fighter, but if there was any aspect I had confidence in, it was my speed.

I caught up with the Division and slipped into the middle of the pack. Ahead of us, the Valhalla force had breached the line and swarmed the lower half of the car pile. Mitsuya and the two boys from the 2nd Division had been pushed upwards as they ferociously tried to fight off what looked like a fourth of Valhalla's numbers, but many had broken past them and clashed with Mikey, who'd already dispatched...quite a number of them. And in such a short time.

The boys I was following stopped at the edge of the pile and began climbing. Several flowed past me as I hesitantly placed my foot on the crumpled hood of a sedan and hauled myself up. This...was not safe to stand on, let alone fight on. However, the heap seemed to be taking the additional weight of Valhalla's force without issue. I steeled my nerves and took a running leap for the next car.

On the other side of the hill, I could indistinctly make out the missing half of the 3rd Division similarly ascending. Was Kisaki performing some sort of pincer attack to fend off Valhalla?

The foremost members of the 3rd Division reached Mikey's level and interjected themselves into his fight, whacking the white-jacketed boys away. Mikey bore an annoyed scowl, but he permitted the interruption and stood back.

Not all the 3rd Division ascended the entire way, though. The members above and below me stopped in their positions, forming a rough semicircle on the heap that imprisoned Valhalla, then began advancing inwards like the jaws of a bear trap. With white-jacketed boys continuing to flow in from the bottom and the available space permitted by the Division shrinking, Valhalla lost the mobility needed to fight and were easily dispatched like the trapped mice they were.

It was an overt display of Kisaki's abilities: pulling off the timing and execution perfectly through orders issued in advance.

A little less impressive when you consider the fact he's controlling both sides, but it's still remarkable, nonetheless.

I continued climbing up along the outside of the makeshift line. Kazutora's body still lay limply several layers above. Please just stay there for a minute. I'll be back; I need to do something quick.

A passive thought occurred to me that it would actually be really, really nice if Kazutora stayed conked out for the rest of the battle.

...if I try to further injure him, I could fatally wound or accidentally kill him. Just leave his unconscious body alone.

"I'm Kisaki Tetta, Captain of the 3rd Division!" a familiar voice called from above.

I twitched. When'd he—? The dark-skinned boy was indeed standing halfway up the heap beside Mikey and accompanied by his burly Vice-Captain. Had he gone up from the other side?

Whatever, that didn't matter. What did was that Kisaki was now here, and I needed to lie in wait. I stalked closer but tried to stay concealed behind the line of 3rd Division members, who were busy crushing the remnants of Valhalla's once-huge force. On ground, many combatants from both gangs seemingly came to an unspoken truce and stared up at the Captain.

"My Division will protect our President!" Kisaki swept his arm out as he announced from his makeshift stage, and the white sash tied at his back fluttered. His voice echoed across the lot, clear and audible for everyone to hear. "Come at us, Valhalla!" he taunted.

Mass cheering arose from Toman at Kisaki's proclamation, but his face was a delicate mask of calm to show to his audience below.

A mask that cracked as one white-jacketed member slammed their way through his defensive line and loomed over him, with a pipe cocked back and a triumphant smirk.

"Gotcha, Kisaki," Baji snarled.

Hello sir, thank you for joining us.

Thunk!

Mikey extended an arm past the 3rd Division Captain to catch the pipe before it could connect with Kisaki's face. Baji's smirk vanished, and he wrenched it back to tap it on the roof of the car he was standing on.

My jaw dropped. This was going way more off-track than I'd—wait. If Baji was occupied by Mikey on the car heap, this could work out, instead.

I wanted to keep Baji above ground not just so I could track him easier, but so that he could defend himself easier from Kazutora's surprise attack, if it ended up happening. I gave a quick glance at Kazutora, who was still draped over the truck. The rough terrain of the pile limited the number of footholds and thus reduced the crowd density, and the tiered structure would make it easier for Baji to spot anyone advancing at him. If I was going to try to stop Kazutora on my own, I had to take precautions. Additionally, it'd still work even if Mitsuya or Draken were able to come around in the end.

Kisaki's Vice-Captain had originally flung Baji off after he hit Kisaki, but now that Mikey was here...I couldn't keep relying on chance, I needed Baji to stay here. I stopped a handful of meters away from the scene, close enough to make a huge stride forward and interfere if necessary. I stared with unblinking eyes at the Vice-Captain, looking for any twitches or signs of aggression.

"Why're you here, Baji?" Mikey quietly said. Kisaki backed away from the dark-haired boy and positioned himself behind a member of his Division. The 3rd Division had beat down most of Valhalla's force, but those nearby instead just watched as Baji talked to Mikey.

Baji paused before answering. "For Kazutora, who you just knocked out. But while I'm here, I might as well—"

I flinched at a burst of movement in my periphery as both Kisaki and the boy he was hiding behind were whacked clean off the hill, but I refocused on Kisaki's Vice-Captain.

"—take down one of your Captains, too!"

The instant I saw the burly boy bend forward, I dashed the remaining distance to insert myself in front of Baji, my arms spread and gaze locked on the Vice-Captain, who was less than a foot away from grabbing Baji's jacket. There was a glint of light at the edge of my vision, and my eyes widened as Baji's pipe halted inches away from the Vice-Captain's head, and by extension, my face. Both froze at my intrusion.

Baji was probably closer to knocking him off rather than being knocked off, but I wasn't going to risk it.

"We're—we're here to save Baji, not fight him," I said. "We shouldn't be attacking him." I wilted under the Vice-Captain's glare, but he seemed to listen to me. I could feel Mikey boring a hole into me with his eyes from my left and the members on ground-level who hadn't resumed fighting doing the same from my right. I was standing out considerably more than I'd like, even if it was just the residue attention from Kisaki's performance.

The boys around me were still and quiet. Alright, they got the message, time to fade off into obscurity and wait beside Kazutora. I lowered my arms.

"Save me? I have no intention of leaving Valhalla."

Those words were the only warning I received before Baji's pipe smashed into my side, propelling me off the car hood with a futile squeak of rubber soles on metal. I gasped and clutched at the arm that'd taken the brunt of the hit, but I grit my teeth and tried to angle my boots downward in midair as a car roof rapidly approached. The metal crumpled at impact, but I kicked off it to transfer my momentum forward and tucked my chin into my chest. My upper arm flared up as I rolled over it, but I maintained position and kicked at the ground to bleed off my speed as I tumbled down.

A moment of weightlessness consumed me as I rolled off the hood of a tall van, but then my back hit the trunk of a sports car and came to a gradual stop on the gently sloping roof. I lay there for several seconds, panting as my vision stopped spinning and my sense of balance reoriented itself.

I lifted my head as a dark blur flew above to see Kisaki's Vice-Captain plow headfirst into the windshield of a car several layers below mine. Shards of laminated glass remained motionless on his uniform. I frowned and pushed myself into kneeling position using my uninjured arm. Just a quick check to make sure he—

"Stop!" I looked back up as Mikey yelled. Baji and the 3rd Division members who'd charged him froze. The black-haired boy had already descended a few meters in the direction of where he'd batted Kisaki away to. If Baji chased Kisaki downhill, then it'd just invalidate what I'd tried to do. Mikey was speaking something, and Baji seemed content to listen—for now, at least. I gave a last glance at the unconscious Vice-Captain before I scaled back up the heap towards the line of black-clothed boys.

The 3rd Division members I stopped behind glared at me, and I stepped back with my empty palms on display at my chest. They didn't budge, but the warning was clear.

"—really won't give up, huh? That's just like you," Mikey continued as he stared down at Baji. "Then I have a deal: if Toman wins, you'll rejoin us. And if Toman loses, I'll give up on you." The short boy's face was calm as he delivered his ultimatum.

Baji scoffed. "If Toman loses?" He swept his arm out to indicate the unconscious white-jacketed boys halfway buried into the nearby cars, juxtaposed to the tame casualties groaning on top of the cars. "Hardly a fair trade."

"I won't participate." Mikey's words sent a veritable shockwave through the listening members.

A feral grin spread across Baji's face. "That's more like it." He smacked a boy in black and continued charging downhill. Mikey, true to his word, did not move an inch.

Mikey had at least delayed Baji's departure by a minute or so. My eyes trailed back up the heap. I just needed to stay on standby beside...

There was a sizable indent on the back of the pick-up truck Kazutora had been collapsed against, but the boy himself was missing.

My heart stopped.

I'd been too fixated on Baji and Mikey. Where the fuck had Kazutora gone? My eyes immediately shot down to Baji, his white jacket conspicuous among the horde of black. A quick scan revealed no other Valhalla member within a 10-meter radius of him...if they were still wearing their jacket. I dropped onto the van below me to squint closer at their faces. Baji was a flurry of movement, knocking down boys right and left with his pipe.

I inhaled sharply as I caught a glimpse of white from beside him, and I leaned forward as I was about to take off running downhill—

Takemichi pushed himself in front of Baji, his white dress shirt visible under his gakuran. Beside him, Chifuyu and Mitsuya similarly blocked the black-haired boy from advancing. Mitsuya guarded against Baji's pipe and launched his own attack, and Baji was forced to halt and trade blows. Chifuyu and Takemichi seemed to talk to the surrounding 3rd Division and convince them to not interfere, and they conceded and stepped back after Chifuyu punched one of them to the floor.

Lucky break. I let my shoulders relax, although my injured arm throbbed. Mitsuya could keep Baji busy and perhaps be the one to stop Kazutora if necessary.

...but there was also a chance that Kazutora could kill Mitsuya, too. Kazutora hadn't seemed to hesitate in knocking Mitsuya off the pile earlier.

I bit my lip. Too many flaws, too many cases I'd overlooked—with every approaching minute, my plans seemed to fall apart further. I shook my head to clear those muddled thoughts. I needed to find Kazutora immediately, regardless of what plan of action I took next.

I broadened my area of search to the tussling members below the pile, and I couldn't immediately spot his distinctive hairstyle among the combatants. They were too far away to properly check. I bent my legs, but I stopped before I could hop down.

Wait, how could Kazutora have escaped unnoticed past the 3rd Division? Even if he was Kisaki's tool, letting him pass through without resistance would be too suspicious. My eyes narrowed. I couldn't spot him below on the heap, but it seemed implausible that he'd made it down to the ground.

He's still somewhere on the heap.

Above? I looked up at the summit. Mikey was the furthest person I could see, watching the events downhill with crossed arms. No, not above.

Behind.

I dashed onto the adjacent car and circled around the heap. In antithesis to the front side of the pile being a swarming mob of movement, the back of the heap, the same exact mess of haphazardly stacked cars but cast in shadow and replete with a rusty crane that rested its arm against the stack, was stark still.

Until a lone figure in white jumped to a car below from halfway down the heap, something small and metallic glinting in their hand.

Everything had failed. I hadn't been able to closen Kazutora and Baji enough beforehand. Draken was busy with Hanma, Mitsuya was busy with Baji, and Mikey wouldn't interfere. Perhaps that last part was for the better, I would've thought any time before today, but there was no one I could rely on right now to stop Kazutora. No one but myself.

That had been the original plan before I'd added Draken, and I'd scrapped it for its improbability. But this was my last and only chance. The consequences were too severe to permit failure.

I took a deep breath and chased after Kazutora.

---

Kazutora seemed to ignore my approach until I hopped onto the car in front of him, my boots impacting the car roof with a metallic creak. He halted and looked down on me.

"Hey, Kazutora." I kept my voice light. "What's the knife for?"

"Get out my way." His voice lacked any of his fake cheer, and the intent behind his command was clear. When it became likewise clear that I wouldn't budge, he stepped to the side to travel around me, but I spoke up first:

"I think I know where your ire for Mikey comes from." His gaze sharpened as he looked back at me.

I'd seen he wasn't receptive to my talking about the incident, but it had to be addressed if he was to grow past it. Was forcibly telling him about it, no matter how nicely I phrased it, the right way to do it? Probably not. But how else could I make him see things logically and come back to his senses?

It was the script I hadn't been able to deliver to him outside Valhalla's hideout, just reworded to be more indiscreet. "I've heard about the incident where a pair of boys broke into a repair shop and killed its owner. It's true that if not for Mikey's dream of owning that bike, this would've never happened. You wouldn't have ended up in juvenile detention, Mikey's older brother wouldn't have died, and you'd probably still be in Toman alongside Baji, to this day. But Mikey isn't at fault for having that—"

Kazutora stomped down beside me and lashed out a fist, the one without the knife. I stumbled back but managed to evade it.

"Don't talk to me like you know me. You don't know anything about me." His cold gaze flickered away as he began to leave for the front of the heap.

You're not getting past me, even if I must use force.

1

Dart forward and shoot an arm out to slap the knife out of his hand.

He must've heard my footsteps, as he swiveled around and jerked back to avoid my strike. As I tottered over the edge of the platform, my eyes scanned the cars in my path and searched for my next foothold.

2

Kick off against the passenger window of the adjacent car to rebound back towards Kazutora, snag my hands against the spoiler of a sportscar, and use that momentum to spin my body in an arc and sweep Kazutora's legs out from under him with my shins.

Using minimal effort he hopped back from my kick, although his gaze was now properly focused on me. Good.

3

Grind my boots against the roof of the car to stop my lower body from sliding off the end, then ignore the pain in my shoulder while retracting my legs to push myself back onto my feet—

His knuckles crashed into my chest the instant I rose up, knocking the air out of my diaphragm and striking my rib cage. The point of impact burned like ice, and I stumbled back with half-lidded eyes.

My foot swished through open air.

My stomach plummeted as I tumbled off the edge of the car, and I had a split second to brace myself as my back slammed into the windshield of a sedan a few levels below. The hard glass offered no give, and I grunted as I collided into it. I'd luckily landed flat on my back to disperse the impact, and it was more surprising than painful. I rolled onto my feet to sprint back up, but Kazutora was already hopping away, having had enough of the mere distraction that I was.

He wouldn't listen to me talk about the incident. I couldn't put up a decent fight about him. What could I do? Anything? Anything at all? It didn't matter what happened to me. How could I stop him from killing Baji?!

"Baji hasn't betrayed you!" I screamed after him.

He halted. A chance!

"You're being used by Hanma and Kisaki," I rambled. "You know—or maybe you don't already know—but Kisaki's controlling Valhalla. He's taking advantage of your grudge to stage a fight between Toman and Valhalla, and Baji's just trying to—"

I jerked back as Kazutora took a flying leap at me, the knife in his hands shining as it speared towards my neck. But the car roof I was standing on crumpled inward as Kazutora's feet crashed into it, and I instead toppled forward. I shoved myself sideways to dodge the knife, and it sliced through the sleeve of my uniform from wrist to elbow.

He'd already effortlessly defeated me earlier one-handed without using his knife. My heart pounded like gunfire in my ears, and my fingers trembled with nervous excitement. I'd gotten his attention, alright. Not the kind of attention I would've liked, but...

I lurched forward to dodge a kick that sank into the metal hood, but it pinned down the scruff of my uniform and forced me back by the throat. I coughed but yanked my collar free and rolled down to a car below. I took a moment of respite to recompose myself as he jumped down, but my body continued to twitch.

I tried to continue. "Baji's just trying to protect both you and Toman from—"

1

Stay well clear of the wildly swung blade by lunging to the side but be careful to stay atop the same car to avoid any potential pitfalls in the uneven pile.

2

Disregard the previous goal and hurtle backwards with my head cocked back to dodge the follow-up punch—

I gasped as his fist zoomed at me in the blink of an eye, but it harmlessly soared into the open air above my shoulder.

Kazutora was getting faster, but he was also getting sloppier. If he were fighting calmly right now, I'd probably have died already.

My words were affecting him—that was clear as day. But he wouldn't listen. He hadn't listened the first time, and he wasn't listening now. A fire erupted in my chest and blood flushed my face, leaving my cheeks feeling hot. Why couldn't he just stop and listen?

3

I steadied myself against the door of a van and catapulted back off towards Kazutora. He swayed back with a sharp inhale, but my fist still clipped him in the temple and knocked his head to the side.

"How do you know Baji's a traitor?" I demanded. "Is it because he attacked Kisaki? But Kisaki's a Captain of Toman and an enemy of Valhalla, so how does that make sense?! Just use your brain and think!"

4

Kazutora snarled and arced his knife to cut from my shoulder to opposite hip, but I rushed forward and tackled him before he could complete the swing, and we tumbled off the car in a tangle of limbs.

The knife came down for my neck, but I jabbed my nails into his wrist, my fingers sinking into the taunt tendons. He recoiled his arm, and I took advantage to box him on the ears, to which he blinked rapidly. His knee dug into my stomach and threatened to pry us apart, but I kicked off a car bumper and rolled us over so that he was pinned beneath me. My injured shoulder burned from sustaining both of our weights for just that brief second, but I bit back a gasp and cocked a fist back.

5

His foot swept my knees to the side, and his knuckles cracked against my cheek as I lost balance. A flash of white enveloped my vision for several precious seconds, and I blearily pushed us downhill again to avoid the incoming knife. His wrist was trapped under him as we rolled like pigs tussling in a muddy patch, and there was a moment of vertigo as we tumbled off the hood of a tall van before we slammed onto the dirt ground, Kazutora underneath me grimacing as he took the full impact of our fall.

A flash of black from behind alerted me of the 3rd Division member who stood a little away, whether he was thinking of helping me or Kazutora. Either one didn't matter. "Stay out of this!" I hissed without a second glance at him, but as I turned back to my fight, Kazutora snaked his arm around my neck and yanked me down on top of him so that our faces were only inches apart. I froze as cold metal came to rest against my nape.

"He's not here for me—he only joined to attack Kisaki. He doesn't care about me, he's a fucking liar! The whole world's against me and on Mikey's side. No one's on my side. No matter what I do, I'm always the one who suffers!" he spat.

No one? The inferno blazing in my chest flared up, and the strings holding up my last dregs of anything resembling patience snapped with a discordant screech.

6

"Who do you think you are?!" I howled into his face. He flinched and loosened his hold, and I jammed my arm into his headlock and wrenched it to the side to tear his grip apart. The pain that flared up in my shoulder only added more fuel to the fire. Kazutora regained himself and stabbed forward at my chest—

6.6

He was as quick as he'd been during our fight, but there was something special about this instant that made it seem like the knife was moving in slow-motion, as if it was being dragged through viscous honey. It was slow enough for me to strike at the knife's pommel and watch it spin out of his fingers.

The blade clattered on the ground beside us.

7

We both lunged for the knife. His jacket scraped against dirt as he slid on his side, but I shot over the boy and grabbed his shoulder to yank myself further forward. He ground to a halt as my boots slammed into his shins, and my fingers closed around the knife's handle.

I rammed a fist into his chest to wind him when he tried to rear his upper body up, then I withdrew the knife and pressed the flat of the blade hard against his neck so that he could clearly feel the metal.

I wasn't here to kill him. I just wanted to make him listen.

8

"I know you've had bad shit happen to you, and I get that it's hard for you to accept something so painful; I can't ever understand how it must've felt. But you, being alone? Are you fucking serious?!" I snarled.

Baji, Draken, and Mitsuya. There were three people at minimum who'd tried to help him.

"You're the one who's pushing everyone away! Stop hiding in your own little fantasy world and open your eyes, brat. There are people who care for you!"

I panted above him and glared at his stupid, stubborn face, which bore an unfazed scowl.

Kazutora's eyes suddenly widened.

Something slammed into the back of my skull with the force of a battering ram, inciting a burning wave of agony that licked at my eardrums and fogged my vision, and I didn't even hit the ground before I fell into sweet, painless unconsciousness.

---

Takemichi stared down along the trail of thirty fallen Toman members, groaning as they writhed atop the cars. While the aftermath was impressive, it wasn't quite as terrifying as point-blank experiencing Baji suddenly flip a switch when he jerked away from Mitsuya to whack a cluster of spectating 3rd Division members behind him, missing Takemichi's face by a hair, and hurtle away in the opposite direction of Kisaki, leaving a path of destruction in his wake. Mitsuya had also been startled, but then an odd expression had crossed his face and he chased after Baji.

Chifuyu left his side, pushed his way past the startled members, and jumped onto the ground, dashing in the direction Baji had gone.

Baji had been ferocious in his attempts to reach Kisaki. When he saw Baji swat Kisaki off the top of the car heap, Takemichi couldn't deny that Chifuyu really had been right—Baji joined Valhalla to deal with Kisaki. And yet, now Takemichi wasn't so sure. What could've been more important than Kisaki, who only had a fraction of the members of his Division remaining to guard him?

Takemichi scowled as he looked at the bespectacled boy. Kisaki had earlier sported a panicked grimace when Baji was only meters away, but now his face was the epitome of calm despite the red welt on his collarbone and his ruffled hair. Kisaki seemed to notice his stare, and Takemichi turned away. He hadn't been a fan of defending Kisaki, but Chifuyu had insisted, and Takemichi wasn't going to break his promise. Then they'd met Mitsuya also on the way to stop Baji and joined forces. A part of him had guiltily wished Baji would break through to Kisaki, but then Chifuyu would be distraught if Baji really did finalize his betrayal.

Takemichi slipped past the 3rd Division and hopped onto the ground. Less than a fourth of the members remained in combat, but those resting at the sidelines were fixated on the spot Baji, Mitsuya, and Chifuyu had run off to. A protruding jeep in the car pile obstructed his view, so he walked closer.

"Ka...Kazutora's down!" someone wailed.

Kazutora?! Takemichi had last seen him fighting Mikey on nearly equal level, even if Kazutora had been assisted by two other Valhalla members. Then Mikey had taken him down at some point and left him uphill. Had Kazutora been defeated a second time? Was that what Baji had seen?

The announcement brought the battle to a halt. Valhalla's remaining combatants stopped in the middle of their fights to look around with wide eyes, and many of their gazes eventually landed past the car the three boys were blocked by. Toman's members, sensing the momentous change, stood taller and let their shocked opponents look away.

As Takemichi rounded the corner of the jeep, he heard rushed footsteps before Draken sprinted past him and skidded to a stop. Takemichi finally joined the entire car lot in staring at the scene.

Kazutora lay on his back, staring up at the sky with an eerily calm expression. Frank was collapsed unconscious beside him, his chest pressed to the floor and right sleeve cut open. Both boys were covered in streaks of dust and dirt, dark against Kazutora's jacket and light against Frank's uniform.

Baji sat on his knees with his pipe thrown away behind him, and his long hair concealed his face as he looked down on Kazutora. Mitsuya, also at Kazutora's side, frowned with his arms crossed as he stood over the white-jacketed boy, but Chifuyu waited a few meters behind them, seeming as much as an outsider as Takemichi himself felt.

Draken, the newcomer, kneeled to the ground, his braid and sash flaring out behind him. "Kazutora, you okay?" he urgently asked.

Kazutora didn't react and continued staring past their faces at the sky. Takemichi could see his chest rising and falling, and his dark eyes blinked every now and then, but besides those slight signs of life, he was dead to the world.

"Oh, Kazutora." Takemichi spun around as Hanma strolled over to join them, his face as bruised as everyone else's and lips parted as he panted but still sporting his insane smirk. "Fell down and can't get up?"

Hanma's appearance also failed to elicit a response.

Takemichi felt like he was trespassing as he stepped closer. Kazutora offered the greatest clue to piecing together whatever had just happened, and he didn't want to miss a single sign, whether it be a muttered word or facial expression. When he'd first met Kazutora in the past, he'd been the exact opposite of the person who'd helped him in the present, the exact opposite of the person Takemichi had expected. A connection to Toman was unsurprising, but his demented behavior and obsession with hurting Mikey almost justified his membership in Kisaki's gang.

This calm and quiet resolve was more familiar to Takemichi.

A glint of silver from Frank's hand caught Takemichi's eye...a knife? Why was Frank holding a knife? Takemichi frowned and shifted uneasily. He couldn't see any obvious signs of bleeding from either of the collapsed boys. Draken hadn't seemed to imply the battle was a dangerous one—perhaps the passage of time had dulled the experience—but Takemichi had trusted his words in full and been completely oblivious to how bad it could've gone.

If Baji hadn't looked back in time, would Frank have killed Kazutora?

The realization chilled the sweat that had formed under his school uniform.

Kazutora began to speak at a seemingly arbitrary moment, his voice almost a whisper:

"You've always been by my side no matter what, Baji. Just like you promised those years ago." His head rolled to the side to acknowledge the sitting boy then craned forward as he sat up. Baji continued to stare at Kazutora as the boy rose to his eye-level, but Takemichi still couldn't see his expression.

"I'm sorry. I'll quit Valhalla, but I don't deserve to be a part of your gang again."

Takemichi's jaw dropped. What had happened to flip around Kazutora's entire personality?

Kazutora pushed himself onto his feet and gave a curt nod to Mitsuya, then Draken. "Thanks."

He slipped past the motionless boys and walked toward the open gate, hands in his pockets and head downcast.

'But it could've gone worse if Frank hadn't stopped Kazutora.'

It was just as Draken said. Frank had stopped Kazutora from attacking Baji and somehow even changed his attitude. Yet Draken's following words were simultaneously contradictory...

"Hey Kazutora, finished already?" Hanma called after him. Kazutora ignored the jibe.

Takemichi heard pounding footsteps from behind, and Mikey slammed down onto the ground beside Takemichi. The time traveler flinched at his sudden arrival, but Toman's leader had a neutral frown, his dark eyes focused on the departing boy. "Kazutora!" Mikey shouted.

That stopped Kazutora. Valhalla's number 3 turned around with a scowl, yet he didn't make a move towards Mikey. "I still want to kill you," he bit out. "Everything's your fault. But Baji would be sad if I did. So I won't."

It was a weird strand of logic, but it was the most logical Takemichi had ever seen past-Kazutora, and he considered it an improvement.

Mikey was perhaps thinking the same as he continued watching Kazutora walk away without further interruption, but it was always hard to read the young boy's thoughts.

Baji finally stood up after having been frozen for the entire exchange. He glanced at where Kisaki waited, then back at Kazutora. It was the most...lost Takemichi had ever seen him. He knew Baji as an aggressive and fearless boy who pursued his goals without hesitation.

Baji came to some decision and chased after Kazutora, who'd already passed the gates. Chifuyu suddenly dashed away in the same direction, and Mitsuya started to follow, but Draken extended an arm in Mitsuya's path and shook his head. "Let's leave them alone for now," Draken muttered.

Takemichi heard Mikey suck in a breath before he announced, "The battle's over!"

"Huh?" Hanma stalked over to the shorter boy and leered down on him. "As if you get to call the shots..." Hanma suddenly quieted as his gaze rose over Mikey's shoulder, then he clicked his tongue with a frown. "Fine. You've beat us. You've beat us! Con-gra-tulations!" He threw his hands up in the air in a mock sign of surrender. Despite admitting defeat, Hanma still managed to look like he hated every second of it, as if he'd been forced into it. Takemichi looked back to Kisaki, who gave no outward signal that he could distinguish.

The declaration stirred up quiet muttering across the abandoned lot, from spectators, Toman, and Valhalla alike. The fighting had already ceased when Kazutora's defeat was announced, but now white-jacketed members began to sulk away from their opponents with their heads lowered, frustrated at the order but compliant. The spectators also began to leave, but Toman waited in the lot, huge smiles breaking across their faces.

Draken cleared his throat. "It's Toman's victory!" His voice boomed over the battlefield and sparked an explosion of cheering from Toman, pumping their fists in the air as they roared with newfound energy. Takemichi had already known Toman would win the battle, but he still joined in the celebration with a triumphant cry of his own. "Let's clear out before the cops arrive!" Draken shouted once the initial excitement had peaked.

The gang obeyed and moved towards the gate, stopping to pull up any injured members and help them to the exit. Mikey and Draken walked past him, leaving Takemichi alone with Mitsuya, who'd bent down to heave Frank onto his back. The Captain frowned as the knife clattered out of Frank's fingers but left it on the ground.

It had played out as he'd said, or at least the parts he'd been able to piece together from Draken's confused answers to his questions. But Frank really had stopped Kazutora, who was Kisaki's ally in the past. Did he misunderstand Draken's reaction?

He remembered Frank had helped him at the fight against Moebius, protecting Draken alongside him from Kiyomasa and his followers. Frank felt like a good guy to him, and Takemichi hadn't been too suspicious when Draken had initially reacted so, but then Naoto had demonstrated how little Takemichi knew about Frank, and then Chifuyu found so many discrepancies about Frank after Takemichi pitched it to him that Takemichi himself had almost been convinced Frank was an ally of Kisaki.

Now, he was unsure again.

"Do...do you need help?" he asked Mitsuya.

The 2nd Division Captain turned around with the unconscious boy secured against his back. "He's surprisingly light. I could probably carry him with just one hand—this stubborn boy who keeps breaking my orders." He raised an eyebrow at the foreign boy and seemed more amused than irritated.

"Oh, ok." Takemichi let him walk away unassisted, but a tall, bald boy strode over to Mitsuya. It was the member who'd been beside Frank at the festival. Takemichi wracked his brain for a name...Hayato. Sasaki Hayato.

"I'll get him back home," Hayato promised to his Captain. Without complaint, Mitsuya bent down to offload the unconscious boy off his back, who Hayato tugged onto himself so that the boy's torso was balanced across his shoulders and limbs draped over his side in a fireman's carry.

Mitsuya stood back up and waved to Hayato. "Thanks for the help today. And you might want to get some ice on that." The bald boy accepted the credit and gave a farewell, from which the Captain departed.

Hayato then turned around to look at Takemichi. The time traveler perked up. They'd never talked much after the Moebius fight. "Takemitchy, thanks for helping Mitsuya earlier. I got knocked down and couldn't reach him." He grinned.

Takemichi noticed the bright red welt that extended from his jaw to collarbone, prominent among the miscellaneous scratches and smears of dirt. Takemichi winced. "Are you alright?"

Hayato tilted his head and grimaced. "It stings like hell, to be honest. Our dear 1st Division Captain fucking whackedme when I wasn't looking."

"Oh, I see."

"But anyways, we shouldn't stay here too long." The bald boy readjusted his hold and started leaving. "'Cya around, Takemitchy."

Takemichi took his advice and walked a little behind. "Bye, Hayato-kun."

It was quite quiet on the street outside the car lot, aside from a handful of dawdling motorcycles that roared away, quiet enough for Takemichi to reflect over the past few day's discoveries and mysteries as he wandered back home.

"Frank-kun, who are you?" he mumbled.

---

Chifuyu wasn't used to being a third wheel.

Heck, he wasn't used to hanging out with more than one person outside his Division.

It'd been him and Baji since the year they'd met. And then Baji had left for Valhalla to look into Kisaki, so Chifuyu found Takemichi. Besides also being against Kisaki, Takemichi hadn't seemed like a very strong or powerful guy. But they'd made a promise between bros, and Takemichi had stuck to his side like he'd been super-glued on. Even though his partner had been reluctant to stop Baji from reaching Kisaki, he'd still followed through, and Chifuyu wasn't one to overlook those sorts of commitments.

Takemichi had even found a lead on Frank, and although Chifuyu had been surprised from the abruptness and randomness, he was running out of places to investigate Kisaki, so he'd looked into the kinda-timidly proposed suspicion. And the further Chifuyu looked into it, the more there was to doubt about the 2nd Division member. Of the people he'd asked, a surprising number having known Frank, no one knew what school he attended, and while he'd found Frank's address from Mitsuya, invading someone's privacy fell a bit too far out of his moral code, so he'd dropped it.

But most revealing was Frank's connection to everything despite having joined only recently: he'd been at Draken's side during the Moebius fight, he'd defended Kisaki at the nomination, and most recently, he'd fought with unusual passion against Kazutora and again defended Kisaki and his Division.

Chifuyu was no idiot. Frank was clearly involved in Kisaki's schemes and could only be one of Kisaki's agents. Nothing else, not even luck, could explain Frank's unusual actions.

...Chifuyu was having too much time to think to himself because he was tag-along to the two once-close friends talking by themselves on a stone bench in the quiet street. He crossed his arms and stared at the vivid sunset to occupy himself and feel a little less outlandish.

Chifuyu did not like Kazutora. Kazutora's appearance had thrown everything in disarray. Baji had outwardly betrayed Toman to chase Kisaki—and then he'd ditched that mission to help Kazutora. Chifuyu apparently didn't understand Baji as well as he'd thought. The realization provoked an ugly pang that he couldn't place the name of.

But Chifuyu wouldn't stop the two from reconciling. It was Baji's life—to try to take away something he cared for would be irredeemable. Even if Baji forgave him, Chifuyu would bear a scar of shame in his heart until his death. He glanced back at the two boys, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in private conversation, and got up to leave.

"C...Chifuyu. Could you stay a bit longer?"

Chifuyu turned around at Kazutora's hesitant voice. The tattooed boy had outstretched his hand and looked at Chifuyu with that sad expression. Or maybe it was exhaustion. Chifuyu had only ever seen insanity in him, so he was having a hard time identifying Kazutora's scope of normal emotions.

But Chifuyu was no jerk, either.

He sat back down on the stone bench and scooted closer to the strangely quiet Baji at the implied invitation. On Baji's other side, Kazutora began to speak a little louder:

"Mikey'll let you back in for sure, Baji. You're one of his friends." Kazutora's lips twisted into some cross between a smile and frown. "But probably not—"

"If Mikey doesn't like it, then he can fuck off," Baji interrupted. He tossed his dark hair back. "You're as much a member as he is."

Kazutora sighed. "Thanks, but I don't think I want to be in Toman again."

Baji had no response to that.

Chifuyu was again starting to feel like an outsider again until Kazutora directly stared at him.

"So please...take care of him for me in Toman, Chifuyu."

No shit he would. He didn't need Baji's old friend telling him that.

It did, however, cure a little of his dislike for Kazutora. Just a bit.

"I will," Chifuyu declared. "I swear I'll keep Baji-san safe."

"Hey, I'm still here," Baji muttered from in-between them. He was ignored. "Sure, fine, whatever. I'll get us something to eat," he grumbled and left for the convenience store at the end of the block.

They waited in silence. Baji had been beside Kazutora since they'd left the battle, so this was Chifuyu's first time being alone with Kazutora. Kazutora didn't talk, and Chifuyu didn't try to either. Yet despite his private sentiments towards Kazutora, Chifuyu could feel an unspoken agreement between them. A passing of the torch from the former 1st Division Vice-Captain to the current.

Maybe Chifuyu was being too biased against him.

Baji returned a few minutes later, a plastic bag in one hand and a steaming container of freshly prepared peyoung yakisoba in the other, both of which he placed on his lap after he sat down between them. A bottle of soda came out of the bag for each of them—Chifuyu said his thanks and cracked the lid open with the carbonated drink as far away from him as possible because Chifuyu would not fall for that again. Luckily, Baji hadn't done anything to it this time.

"You still eat that? You'll die early if you eat that all the time," Kazutora said after he took a long draft from his drink.

"Shut up." Baji peeled the lid off and mixed the brown noodles with his chopsticks until he was satisfied, and he set the utensils down and stared down at the container with a frown. "Hmm, how should I split this...?"

"Huh? We're splitting that?" Kazutora asked in disbelief. "That's so little, why didn't you just get three?"

So that little tradition hadn't been something Baji normally did. Although it made sense the first time they'd met since there had only been one package at Baji's place, Chifuyu had been quite befuddled when Baji offered to share with him a second time, but he'd accepted because he'd been hungry, and then it became a normal thing.

It felt...wrong to let a third person in on that.

Baji sighed in exasperation. "Fine, you two—split that between yourselves."

"Huh?" / "What the hell?"

Chifuyu stared long and hard at Kazutora, who stared back with an equally nonplussed face. Screw splitting it between the three of them—between him and Kazutora? Just...why? He was glad to see that Kazutora thought the same. Baji, on the other hand, looked dead serious.

Chifuyu tilted his head in hopes that the logic would tumble around in there and rise up to his consciousness. It didn't.

He looked back to Kazutora as the boy started subtly shaking his head in the universal gesture for 'no,' then once they'd met eyes again, Kazutora nudged his head in Baji's direction. A consensus passed between them.

"Just split it in thirds," Chifuyu grumbled. Kazutora nodded with a grimace.

"Actually, wait." Baji raised his palm. "Does anyone have a pen?"

Kazutora blinked. "I do?" He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a ballpoint pen. "What for?"

Without a response, Baji took the pen from him and dug around in the empty bag for the crumpled receipt, which he smoothed out on his knee and flipped over so the blank side faced up. He raised the yakisoba container to eye-level and critically inspected it, then set it down on the bench and began drawing on the receipt.

Two perpendicular lines that intersected at one end—a coordinate plane. Baji drew a horizontal line on the graph, then a vertical line such that it formed a box between all four lines, shaded the region in—

Chifuyu glanced at Kazutora, who again looked just as baffled as he felt.

—and labeled the horizontal axis with an A, B, and 10, all equally spaced.

Baji then began to speak as he worked.

"So, if we assume this curve models the amount of peyoung yakisoba in this container and the base is our x-axis, we can take the integral of it from zero to A, A to B, and B to ten—A and B are constants—and set them equal to each other. Then, we can use the Second Fundamental Theorem of Calculus and take the derivative..."

Chifuyu had no idea what the fuck Baji was saying.

"...so this system of equations evaluates to A equals ten-over-three and B equals twenty-over-three. And since we scaled the x-axis by ten, we just need to divide them by ten. So then..." Baji circled his answer with a dramatic flourish. "Chifuyu gets the part of the box from the left end to one-over-three, I get the part from one-over-three to two-over-three, and Kazutora gets the rest!" he proclaimed proudly. "How's that, Kazutora?! I've gotten smarter while you were away."

So he'd just divided it into thirds in a stupidly overcomplicated manner.

"Woah, damn..." Kazutora gasped. "When'd you get so good at math?"

Baji preened at the praise. "I got this really smart tu—"

"Oh my god! Those are amazing cosplays, could I get a picture?"

Chifuyu tried to send a warning by pointedly blinking and shaking his head at the high school girl wearing a red cheongsam that hugged her breasts and was slit on either side of her waist to reveal black leggings. A purple parasol rested on her shoulder, and her other hand held a flip phone. It was Halloween and they'd intentionally chosen a side street to avoid the party in-town, but Chifuyu had assumed that as usual, people were smart enough to see their gang uniforms and leave them the hell alone.

Clearly, he was wrong.

"Cosplay?" Baji growled. "This isn't a costume, it's my uniform, you bit—"

Chifuyu jumped to his feet and inserted himself in front of the girl. "Aha ha, we're not taking pictures. Sorry." He waved his hands and gave an apologetic smile.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder from behind. "He's just shy, ignore him," Kazutora said with a confident smirk. Baji spluttered into his soda. "But I'm up for pictures, if you're fine with me."

She closed her phone. "It's fine, you don't need to. Sorry to bother you guys." The girl forced a laugh and hurried away, her parasol bobbing.

"Pfft, ha! Kazutora, you loser!" Baji clenched his side and cackled once he'd coughed his drink out of his airway.

"Shut up! I bet you're still as much a loser as I am! Chifuyu, he never went on a date in the past year, right?"

Both boys swiveled to stare at Chifuyu with such intensity that he couldn't help the laughter that burst out and left him teary-eyed.

Chifuyu wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "Mhm, he hasn't."

"I'm just not interested!"

"Excuses!"

---

My cranium throbbed with dull, incessant pain.

I flew upright from my lying position and leaned forward in a crouch, but my limbs became entangled in the blanket and I nearly tumbled off the mattress. I steadied myself using an arm but winced at the sharp ache in the corresponding shoulder, not as striking as the pain in my skull but no less tender.

Skrt! "Woah—chill, dude."

My head swiveled towards the voice from beside me but immediately retracted into my chest as my neck drove a nail of agony into my brain. "Ughh..." I moaned.

"Frank, calm down, we're at my place."

I rubbed my temples and waited for the pain to subside to a tolerable level before I delicately raised my head. Across the room was a picture board hanging on the wall before a wooden table, next to a floor lamp that had been switched on to illuminate the room in an ambient glow. The matching chair at the desk was angled askew. This was Hayato's room—I'd sat at that desk countless times.

The window beside the bed showed it was pitch dark outside aside from a few lights from the neighboring house. It was a sunny noon what felt like only a minute ago. My eyes widened and I sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

How much time had passed?!

"I carried you back home after the battle ended," Hayato explained from my other side. I slowly faced him, a hand against the back of my head for support. My hair—down normally to frame my face—was cool and wet. I lowered my hand and examined the drops of moisture left on my fingers. Water?

"I put some ice behind your head to help with the swelling. Looks like it still hurts, though." Hayato kneeled at my bedside with a small grin, his elbows resting on the mattress.

"Thanks for that—really, thank you for taking care of me—" I gave a quick nod despite the wince it evoked and hurried through the formalities. "But what happened at the end of the battle?" Hayato leaned away at the intensity of my stare, and I diverted my gaze to the closed door behind him, but my attention was no less focused on his response:

"We won against Valhalla. People saw you take down Kazutora, and then the 1st Division Captain knocked you out, but Valhalla lost morale and Mikey called the battle ours."

"So...no one died?" My heartbeat reverberated throughout my body as I stilled, teetering on the fine precipice between hope and despair.

"N-no?" Hayato grimaced. "Fights rarely end up with anyone dying...the fight with Moebius was kinda an exception with the Vice-Prez nearly departing, but those are one-in-a-hundred. No one died, Frank."

I blinked as I processed his words. Despite the entire month of relentless thinking for how to make the battle succeed, all that passed through my mind was a simple—

Oh.

A soothing wave lapped at my chest, tickling my neck and guiding my limbs in a gentle swaying as it slowly enveloped my body.

I was too tired to stop it from leaking out.

"W-woah, Frank, calm down, calm down!" Hayato stammered and patted my back as I rubbed my eyes and sniffled. My hands weren't very effective at wiping away my tears after the initial drops, so I used my sleeve—

"H-hayato." I tried to steady my breathing and talk evenly. "Did you take off my uniform?" I was in the t-shirt and shorts I'd worn under my tokko-fuku.

"Yeah." He gave my back a final pat before pointing at...somewhere. My vision was too blurry to tell. "You probably don't want my parents to know either, right? I took it off before I came back home. Sorry for not asking first, but you were..." He waggled his hands. "Unresponsive."

It still wasn't ideal...regardless of whether he could've accidentally uncovered my gender, a boy over ten years younger had looked after my unconscious body, including tucking me in his bed, tending to my injuries, and taking off my outside clothing. But it'd been with pure, earnest intentions, just like everything else he did for me since I'd arrived in this world. I took a deep breath and wiped away my tears using the end of my shirt.

"Thank you, Hayato. Really, truly, thank you."

"Yeah, no problem." He grinned.

Now that I noticed, he was wearing a dark turtleneck. It was a bit of an unusual style for him.

I froze. It was...7 PM? 8? And I hadn't told my host parents where I was yet. The plan had been to ditch class and apologize later with an excuse, but by this time, they could very likely be thinking I was dead in a ditch on the way to or from school.

I wouldn't blame them.

"Uh, sorry, but could you hand me my phone? They should be in my pants pocket. I need to call my parents real quick."

Hayato ambled over to his chair, picked up the dark pair of pants—oh, so those were mine—and plopped it on my lap. "I saw a bunch of calls and texts from them," he said as I stuffed my hand into a pocket and dug around. "And I thought you might not have told them, so I just pretended we'd gone to watch a movie together."

"Oh." I let my phone rest on my thighs, although I could see the notifications on the screen for twenty missed messages from not just my parents, but from Hakkai, a few of my other friends in Toman, and...Hina. Well, I had been absent from school. "You contacted them?"

"Yeah, I called Youko-san." Hayato nodded, but he suddenly grimaced and reached for his neck. Was he injured?

"Are you alr—"

Knock-knock. "Hayato, is Blake awake yet? Dinner's ready," a feminine voice called through the door.

I probably shouldn't stay here too long. I cleared my throat. "I'm—"

"Yeah, she just woke up!" Hayato called back. "And I'll be down in a few minutes."

My breath hitched. I knew he knew my real name, but it was a gender-neutral name. However, 'she'... Since when? I stared down at my lap.

I have been tutoring him under 'Blake's' name, even if I dressed up like 'Frank.' He's probably heard that I was a girl at some point whether it be from his parents or mine. He might be a little naive, but he's not stupid.

"I've had the idea even before I saw you cross-dress, but you always seemed like you tried to hide it from Toman, so I didn't say anything."

That long, huh. You're right that I don't want them knowing.

"But if you ever want to...come out to the gang, I'll support you. I can see some of them being dicks, but that's just them—ignore them. Oh, uh, sorry, I shoulda asked a long time ago, but when we're in private, do you want me to call you 'Blake' instead? Sorry if that's insensitive to ask, but I'd like to know."

I looked back to the blabbering boy as a realization dawned on me.

Hayato thought I was transgender.

I wasn't; I was pretending to be a boy, pretending to be a different person, in order to be in Toman. I hadn't outright asked if Toman didn't allow girls to join, but I hadn't seen a single girl in the gang aside from Emma, unless I'd misgendered someone.

But maybe it was a good excuse. I wouldn't propagate it to anyone beyond Hayato, but it was easier to just pretend that I was. Blake's existence meant little compared to Frank's.

"Frank. Just call me Frank. I don't plan on revealing my identity to the gang any time soon."

Or ever.

A/N: In case it wasn't clear, her plan was that Kazutora could reconcile with Baji and not kill him, but that didn't seem to go as hoped, so she was going to stop Kazutora by herself. This would've involved keeping Baji on the hill so he could better defend himself and trying to talk Kazu out of his rage. However, she had doubts if she'd be able to reach him in the battle and if he'd listen to her, so she changed it for Draken to be the one to stop Kazutora instead.

So, Blake succeeded—just not in the way she thought she would.

The next chapter is the final one of this arc, and after that will be an interlude into the next arc. I may go on hiatus again before the Christmas arc since the anime will conveniently air at the beginning of next year but also to get a head start on writing. However, I will at minimum take a month off to finalize my plans.