A/N: Multiple announcements first:

1) I will explicitly state here that Blake's only read up the end of the Black Dragons arc—that's the one after Valhalla, for you anime-only watchers. There's a bit of a spoiler regarding Kisaki from that arc in this chapter, so beware.

2) I made a minor mistake in 3-5 (Limit), the chapter before the battle, with Takemichi's scene, after he'd returned from the future. I changed a moderately major detail of the next arc, and that'll affect the future Takemichi saw. It only regards that exact scene, though. You'll see what I mean in the final third of this chapter.

3) If you remember the list of quotes I posted as a preview to this arc, the Botox one was originally meant for Souya, but it ended up sounding insensitive in context, so I didn't use it.

4) I drew three manga pages of the last scene from Blake's perspective in this chapter and have inserted them in the chapter. She should be wearing glasses, but they were too much of a pain to draw in. 

5) I will sometime post a parody one-shot, unrelated to this story, that features Chifuyu in the timeline where Takemichi became a Toman Admin. Again, go take a look if you're interested.

6) Last but not least, it's been about a year of this story (I think? Wattpad only saves the date last updated, and I edited the first chapter a few months ago). Thank you for all the support thus far, people who commented, voted, or simply read up to this point!

Now, onto the chapter.

"Why didn't you tell us where you would be?"

"Um." To not aggravate my sore neck, I slowly peered up at the glowering behemoth that was Shigeru. My fingers hung loose in front of me after the door had swung open the instant I'd inserted my key. My lanyard dangled from the lock.

"Let her in first, dear," Youko called from beyond the foyer. My host father responded by shuffling to the side of the doorway, but his expression remained stern. I tugged my key out of the lock and pocketed it as I stepped inside.

The house was cozy compared to the autumn night, which wasn't especially cold, but the wind had been uncomfortable against my bare arms. It'd sure woken me up; I hadn't expected I'd be outside for so long and neglected to bring my jacket. My tote bag with my Toman uniform had been a welcome insulator against my side. Keeping my neck straight, I bent down to take off my shoes and stow them on the shoe rack. Youko stood up from the chair pulled over to the floor lamp and hobbled over to stand behind her husband.

"So?"

I looked up at Shigeru. "I thought you wouldn't have let me go otherwise," I admitted. "I'm sorry." I bowed my head slightly—ow. I straightened back up with a carefully neutral expression.

Shigeru moved back when Youko spoke. "My initial response would have been no. But this is your overseas exchange, and we want you to enjoy it, so it's alright—but only every once in a while." She smiled, the small wrinkles around her eyes crinkling.

"You're still going to school this week," her husband rumbled.

"I will. I'll make up on any late work." I met their eyes. It was the least I could do after skipping school. Considering the day's excitement, spending an extra hour or two on homework sounded like a godsend.

"That's good. Dear, could you heat the water back up? I think it may have gone cold again." Shigeru complied and left upstairs. "Blake, let's go to the kitchen."

"I believe I texted you that I ate at Hayato's house?" I said as I followed Youko into the room at the end of the hallway. She flipped the light switch, illuminating the kitchen area and dining table across from the counter.

"Mhm, I saw your message, but sit down for a moment." Youko pulled out a chair from the table and beckoned for me to come.

I padded across the wooden floorboards and sank down onto her indicated chair, with my bag in my lap. I kept the top folded shut so she couldn't see the black uniform inside—

Her fingers parted the hair over my scalp.

"I've seen enough people trying to hide their injuries, as a nurse. Hm, the swelling's not too bad, but head injuries are always risky. Have you had any headaches, is your hearing or taste off, or have you noticed anything wrong in general? Any numbness or restricted mobility in any part of your body?"

"It..." My eyes trailed to the dark window, which reflected my host mother's concerned expression and my own, lost face. "It only hurts at the point of impact, but it's not intolerable as long as I don't move my neck. Everything else feels normal."

"I see. If anything happens, please tell me immediately. As for your arm..." Youko pushed my left sleeve up to look at my shoulder. I might have acted somewhat awkwardly to keep my neck straight earlier, but how had she noticed my other injury?

She instructed me to raise my arm in a few different ways, and although one or two evoked a wince from me, it had still retained its proper mobility.

Youko patted my back. "I promised I wouldn't poke into your business, but if you're going to get into fights, please take more care of your body. You've only got one of them."

She'd only hinted she knew I'd been fighting the first time I came home injured, but maybe she could tell each time from my wounds. Regardless, she wouldn't interfere—to a neighbor, it may have seemed irresponsible, but to me, to be treated on equal ground with trust was a blessing. Despite my teenage body, I still was 26 inside.

I'd been grounded after the Moebius fight, but they had found me collapsed on the street in the rain, so I couldn't blame them. Valhalla was an improvement: I still had been knocked unconscious, but I at least returned home on my own feet.

Third time's the charm, right?

Trust was a two-way street. If I could just come home with nary a scratch to uphold my end, perhaps that would become the proof that they could continue to allow me independence. I needed to start planning for the Black Dragons arc now that I knew the results of the battle. A solution free of conflict...was it possible?

"I'll be careful," I promised.

---

"Blake-chan, you're finally eating with us again," the dark-haired girl said after I placed my lunchbox on my desk and popped off the lid.

"I just wanted to eat outside for a bit. Sorry." I shrugged but stiffened as my shoulder flared up in pain. I gently rubbed it, hiding the action by pretending to readjust my blazer.

"No need to be sorry," the girl straddling the back of the chair beside me said. "Anyway, it's kinda not like you to be absent from school. Did something happen?"

Hina abruptly stood up, sending her chair skidding back. "I've been holding this in all day," she grunted with her head angled down and eyes closed as she held her fingertips to her forehead. "But what were you doing with Takemichi-kun on Halloween? You were both absent yesterday. Depending on your answer, we may never be friends again!" Her hand shot away from her head to stab an index finger in my direction, and her eyes reopened in a determined glare.

I blinked.

"There's this crime drama they've all been fangirling about the past week," the girl beside me muttered and rested her chin on the back of her chair. "They're all, like, really into it. It's such a cliché show."

"Ma'am, they're conspiring." The blonde at the desk in front of Hina snapped her fingers. "She's sus."

"The deputy has a point." Hina nodded. "Blake-chan, do you have an alibi? Any proof to absolve yourself of guilt?"

"I just ditched school to go to the movies."

"Objection!" Hina's deputy slapped the table. "Blake-chan would never do that! I bet she studies particle physics for fun in her free time."

"Hold on. We can't jump to assumptions." I stared at Hina with flat eyes. "What movie did you watch? Do you still have your ticket or receipt?"

I racked my brain for what movies were showing now: were there any billboards, tv adverts, or widely discussed movies I could recall? "Uh..."

"We're waiting. What movie, at which theater, at what time? I'll check it." Hina flipped open her phone. "Or do you not have an answer?"

Worst thing was, their misguided suspicions were exactly on point.

"I went with one of my students," I said under their beady-eyed stares. "It was a boring movie, and I don't remember the title."

"Chief, I think we've got her," another girl whispered.

"So it seems." Hina shook her head with a pronounced sigh. "Alibis from close friends aren't enough because they have reason to lie. Unfortunately, I must proclaim you—"

"I saw her coming out of the theater on my way home."

The group of girls turned around, and I repositioned myself on my chair to avoid twisting my neck to see Atsushi slouched against Takemichi's empty desk a few rows away. "The one near the station, 4 PM. I think she watched the new Ghibli film," he continued after pocketing his phone.

I silently observed his impassive face, then looked back at the girls. "Yeah, that movie."

"You thought that was boring?" Hina's deputy gasped. "I loved that film! The male lead was hella—"

"Sergeant, you're getting distracted."

"I won't just stand for this slander, Hina-chan. I literally cried at the ending because it was so beautiful, when she saved him through the power of love, I—"

My eyes trailed back to meet Atsushi's as the girl beside me talked my ear off.

He gave me a curt nod.

It was the same action from after our confrontation, but the meaning behind it was different. It wasn't the distrustful, cornered acquiescence, but a calm, reserved acceptance. Perhaps he'd finally realized that I wouldn't cause trouble for his friends. Seeing was believing, after all, and I had no intention of causing a fuss. Or maybe I was overthinking it.

Regardless, this reaction was leagues preferable to the previous.

"Hey Blake-chan, I don't care if you're busy, but we're gonna watch that movie again sometime so that you understand how much of a masterpiece it is! You guys, too!"

"Sure, sure." I laughed.

---

"What were you trying to pull on Kazutora at the fight?" The tall boy straightened his diamond-patterned jacket and peered down on me through narrow eyes.

I swallowed but met the gaze of the boy technically over ten years younger than me. I was careful to not bend my neck. "He looked like he might hurt himself, so I interfered."

"Yeah, but did it warrant holding a knife to his throat?"

He saw me fighting Kazutora? I'd lost track of my surroundings during the adrenaline high. "Well, in my defense, that was his knife, and he would've used it on me instead."

"Hmph, fair." Draken's face relaxed, and he angled his body towards the solar panel roofed parking lot behind him. Two-thirds of the spots, indicated by yellow paint, were occupied with cars neatly parked in reverse, primarily humble, conservative sedans of dull colors.

And then there was the vibrant crimson coupe with daring black streaks across the sides, a raised wing at the rear, and a splitter that jutted out so far that I could sit on it, which would be equivalent to sitting on the ground since the car had an inch of ground clearance. There were probably a handful of other oddities that I wasn't catching because I was a layman when it came to vehicles, but even I could tell that that car was just built differently. The aura it emanated was intense—it was the first thing I'd spotted after entering the parking lot.

"So..." I averted my eyes from the oddity. "You mentioned that you've found someone willing to pass down a car."

"Mhm."

"Is it that one?" I didn't even have to point.

"Yes."

"Is that the only possible one? Maybe, I don't know, would the car lot we fought at with Valhalla have any functioning cars?"

"Question if we could even extract a car from those heaps in a rendition of Jenga aside, most of them have their important parts removed before they get scrapped. Would be a waste to just trash them, not to mention dangerous." Draken straightened up from his slouch. "What, Frank, you don't like it? If you don't want it, I'll gladly take it instead."

"No, no. Thank you, I appreciate it, but I was just...surprised." My eyes were subconsciously drawn to it again. "So, do you have the keys?"

"No, but the previous owner—ah, speak of the devil."

A boy a little shorter than Draken emerged from the automatic doors of the convenience store beside the parking lot, wiping his hands on his trousers. He turned in our direction and strolled closer.

Something about him looked oddly familiar, but I couldn't place where I'd seen him. He had no prominent distinguishing features aside from a faint scar beneath his hairline, and his short, black hair was tame compared to the typical bosozoku haircuts.

He seemed to share in my recognition as he stopped and squinted down at me. "Have we met somewhere before?" he said.

I slicked my gelled hair back further. 'Frank' was the safer option for anyone related to gangs. "I get told that sometimes, but I don't believe we have."

He grunted and looked at Draken. "So, this's the guy?" After Draken nodded, he took a deep breath and refocused on me. "Moebius hurt the people I cared about, and they got what they deserved when Toman crushed them."

Moebius harming unrelated people? I scrutinized his features again in broad daylight, rather than the dimly lit park my mind was conjuring, and something clicked in-between them.

"But even so, my family and girlfriend got hurt really badly, and she broke up with me. Pah-chin got himself arrested for my sake—"

"He chose to do that," Draken interrupted. "There's nothing to feel bad for. What Moebius did was inexcusable."

"Yeah, I guess so." He looked down at the ground, and Draken continued to watch him with a frown. "But I've decided that I'm quitting my gang and putting that life behind me. I don't know who you are, I think, but please take care of my car. Draken said he trusted you, so I'll do the same." He met my eyes with a steady gaze as he slipped a car keyring out of his pocket and held it by the blade so that the head of the key was proffered towards me.

Despite the obvious cue, I hesitated to accept it. "Are your family and girlfriend doing alright?"

"Yeah, my parents fully recovered a few months ago. As for her...she's definitely getting better, and I've been trying to help her family foot the costs, and they're no joke. I was thinking of selling my car off, but..." He looked back at the crimson, highly customized vehicle. "I don't have the heart to. Even removing my gang logo was too much. She belongs on the streets, not wasting away in some garage or scrap yard. Please look after her." He extended the keys closer.

I took it. The cool metal rested on my palm, the jagged edge running parallel to the pale scar across the base of my fingers. He'd resolved himself, and so had I, months ago.

"I'll try my best," I promised.

"Now that that's covered, where are you going to store it, Frank? I heard you're keeping your parents in the dark," Draken said.

Ah, crap. I needed to consider storage, not just maintenance and gas costs, and Japan was pretty picky about parking. "Would this place work? It's reasonably close to my house. How much is the rent?"

"25,000 yen monthly." He winced as my jaw dropped. "I know the owner personally so he gives me a discount, but it's kinda expensive to keep a car in the middle of Tokyo, especially as a student...you can pay that, right?"

Considering my profits from tutoring Hayato and Baji every week and the modest weekly allowance my host parents bestowed on me, I'd just barely make it. If I missed a single session, I'd have to pay for it out of my pocket. I technically wasn't old enough to legally work, so I doubted I could find a new stream of revenue to offload the cost.

"I can, although, that's quite a lot." I swallowed.

He sighed and scratched his head. "That's good. I'll try to negotiate on your behalf later when we get this sorted. In the meanwhile, I trust that you won't intentionally hurt my car, but I don't fully trust you won't accidentally crash her, no offense." He glanced over me with a critical eye. "You know how to drive a manual?"

"I can drive an automatic, but I know how to drive a manual in theory." The clutch and gears—how hard could it be?

"Theory means nothing." He extended his palm to me. "Give me the keys. I'll take you for a drive."

A demo sounded useful. I fumbled with the car keys as I took them back out of my pocket. He snatched them out of my hand, twirled it around his finger by the keyring, and unlocked the car in a single, smooth motion. He walked towards the car while spinning his keys without bothering to check if I was following.

Draken laughed. "I'll leave you guys to it. But really, thanks again for telling me about Baji. You were right that he had a hidden motive for leaving Toman. In reality, he was our most loyal member yet." He closed his eyes as he smiled at some private thought. He was in quite the good mood.

I smiled back. "Is that so? Well, I'll see you later."

---

One day prior:

Five boys lounged on the stone steps leading up to Musashi Shrine, dressed in jackets and long-sleeves to suit the cloudy sky and whistling wind.

"So, Pah-chin's gone, huh?"

"You just missed him by a bit." Standing against the railing, Draken peered down at Kazutora, who sat on the bottom step. "He's been doing well, although he keeps complaining they don't feed him enough."

"His stomach's a black hole." Baji extended his legs across the steps and leaned back on his arms to stare at the sky. "He's gotten worse while you were out—he's infamous among the all-you-can-eat places."

Mitsuya chuckled from beside him. "He broke a few food challenges, too. You might see his name in some of the places that offer them."

Mikey, sitting on the highest stair to the shrine, rested his chin on his palm and stared over the other boys' heads without a word.

"That's fine." Kazutora stood up with a sigh and slipped his hands out of his pockets as he walked a few paces forward and turned around to face the other founders, whose eyes followed him. "I called everyone here to say sorry for betraying Toman. I kept pushing you guys away and fought against you. Sorry." He lowered his head.

"Apology accepted. You don't need to bow. I'm just glad you're back with us again." Draken grinned and jumped down onto ground-level. Baji bit back a curse as the tall boy slammed onto the ground a couple of steps below him.

"Seconded. You're still a friend, even if we lost contact for a few years," Mitsuya said as he got up and descended the stairs. The 2nd Division Captain gave him a serene smile.

Baji regained his composure and wordlessly smirked as he hopped onto his feet to stand in-between Mitsuya and Draken at the base of the stairs.

Mikey watched the scene with an unchanging expression.

Kazutora regarded the three boys with a faint smile, then exhaled. His bell earring chimed as he raised his head to look at the President. "I...I'm still kind of angry at you, but Shinichirou's death wasn't your fault. It was mine. I killed him, then blamed you for no real reason. Sorry." He shifted while Mikey remained motionless. The other founders turned to watch their leader, awaiting his response. Baji bore a small frown as the silence dragged on.

Mikey eventually spoke. His voice was calm, his face solemn and unchanging. "I forgive you. But you better apologize to Emma and Gramps, too."

"I will."

"Then that's fine." The President stood up but remained at the top of the stairs. "You're still the 1st Division Captain, Baji." He met eyes with the aforementioned boy and nodded. "Kazutora...I won't stop you if you want to rejoin Toman."

Kazutora hesitated, then shook his head. "No, I won't. Time's gone on while I was in juvie, and it's not quite the same anymore."

Mikey did not object.

"True, a lot of stuff's happened since then." Draken scratched his head and sighed. "Then, why don't we make up for that by spending some time catching up? I've gotta bunch of fun stories."

"Yeah, you got the time to hang out like we used to?" Mitsuya said. "Some cool places opened up while you were gone."

"Okay." Kazutora followed the two boys as they walked towards the parking lot. Baji glanced back at Mikey, who bore the same calm expression as he watched them leave, then jogged away to catch up with the departing boys.

---

"Man, I wish I got to see the big fight two weeks ago...but my mom would kill me if I skipped school."

"Don't worry, I've got you covered. Knowledge is power—or so it goes. Ask me anything you desire."

"As expected of the Gang-dex...I heard Valhalla's number three got taken down by Mikey, but I've also heard that he was beating up Mikey. Which happened?"

"Both, actually. Kazutora was winning, but then Mikey launched a counterattack and took him down. Y'know, Kazutora actually got taken down a second time. You remember Frank?"

"Yeah, you mentioned him a while back."

"Frank fought Kazutora head-to-head and defeated him. Kazutora had a knife, but Frank charged him and knocked him to the ground. I'd argue that was what decided the battle."

"Wait, seriously? That Frank guy? No way."

"Yes way, my friend. He fearlessly dodged Kazutora's knife and got him in a submission hold. Y'know, he's the friend of a friend—I basically know him already. Remember when he and I fought together against Kiyomasa and took him down, just him, me, and our fists—"

"That's not what you said last time."

I rolled my eyes and snuck away from Yamagishi and his friend by slipping into the crowd departing from the station. He'd been propagating similar rumors before with both a detective's keen eye and a braggart's foot-long nose, but the excited boy's gossiping had been unrepresentative of the news among the delinquent circles. Frank's name still shouldn't have spread as much as Yamagishi seemed to imply.

I strode through the busy streets in my red jacket, sleeves pushed up to my elbows. The sun's reflection on the glass windows was dazzling, so I kept my head down and followed the tide of the crowd as the sun mockingly rippled across the reflective, tall buildings. My neck ached at the position, but the discomfort was manageable.

Eventually, the vibrant, mid-rise stores and digital sign boards transitioned into calmer, monochrome buildings, where there were less pedestrians to clutter the sidewalk and some greenery lining the city streets. The park was at the end of the block if I remembered correctly.

When I turned the corner, I immediately noticed the sleek, scarlet motorcycle parked among the line of bikes. It wasn't as flashy as some of the others, but the red-and-black color scheme, combined with the Manji symbol painted atop the fuel tank, was distinctive in its own way.

"Huh, what's Mikey doing here?" I muttered. I spotted Draken's bike a few meters away from it.

Well, it was Takemichi's welcome party. Although it was a 2nd Division tradition, other members weren't prohibited from joining in.

Standing at the entrance to the small park, I saw the 2nd Division milling about and chattering, some while sitting on the hard-packed dirt and others standing. Mikey and Takemichi occupied one of the two picnic tables at the inner end of the park.

A boy robotically walked up to Takemichi's table, bowed down with a cry of "good work, President!" to Mikey, gave a shallower bow and a "welcome to the 2nd Division!" to Takemichi, and marched back in the manner he'd come. The next boy greeted them with the same level of formality. Takemichi then muttered something to Mikey, who tossed his head back and laughed.

"Hey, Frank! Why didn't you come in your car?" Draken strolled out from the middle of the gathering to greet me. A few heads turned towards us.

I strode into the park to meet him at the edge of the party. "I want to make sure I can properly drive it before taking it on public roads. I'm not quite used to shifting gears and having a clutch."

"Hm, I guess that might be weird if you've never driven a motorcycle before," he admitted with a shrug. "But don't worry over it so much. Experience is the best teacher—you gotta feel the vehicle. If you stall at an intersection, what're the people behind you going to do? Hit you? Worst they can do is honk."

Honk away my self-esteem, you mean. I don't want to drive in public exactly because I don't want my engine to stall at an intersection.

"Did I hear right that you got a car? So I don't gotta drive you around anymore?" Hayato emerged from the crowd. Peh-yan followed behind him with his hands tucked in his pockets.

"I guess not. I should be used to driving it before the meeting next week," I said.

"Cool, cool. Maybe you could even drive me there sometimes." He laughed.

"I'm going to say 'hi' to Takemitchy," Peh-yan said after listening to us talk for a bit and left.

"Yeah, I'll go do that, too." With a wave, Hayato walked after Peh-yan.

Draken and I watched Peh-yan give Takemichi a casual greeting but Hayato bow to Mikey and greet Takemichi while standing rigid with his arms at his sides. Takemichi squirmed during both interactions, to Mikey's amusement.

"You might want to go save Takemitchy. Mikey's been messing around with him after he declared to us he wanted to be leader," Draken said.

I snorted. There had been that plot thread in the series. Yes, there was some merit in the idea, but his earnestness and boldness in proclaiming it to the two leaders was hilarious. However, he did make significant progress towards that goal in his nomination as the 1st Division Captain.

That wouldn't happen in this reality.

It was an unfortunate consequence, but a necessary one nonetheless. There was the improbable possibility that Baji would step down from his position, and I couldn't count on it.

But in the end, I didn't need Takemichi's assistance to save Baji and Kazutora. Something happened in the future, as evidenced by his altered reactions, but I managed to fix the arc on my own.

Could I change the future by myself?

Another boy marched to their table, paid his respects to Mikey, and gave a stiff greeting to Takemichi.

"Yeah, I'll go and welcome him," I replied to Draken.

Mikey noticed me first as I approached, and he pointed my presence out to Takemichi. "Oh, Frank-kun," he murmured.

I halted a meter away from their table and first bowed to Mikey as the other boys had done. While we were a little more acquaintanced than the others, it was safer to stay polite. "Good work, Pres—"

"Mikey," Mikey said.

"Mikey," I corrected. I then raised my head and smiled at the boy sitting beside him. "Congrats on finally entering the gang, Takemichi." I extended my right hand to him, palm perpendicular to the ground. The time traveler hesitated before accepting my handshake. His fingers were loose over my hand, but I gave them a firm shake and released my hold.

Now that I thought about it, I'd already welcomed him after the meeting where Kisaki had become a Captain.

"Thanks," he said, not seeming to have caught my mistake. "I've been hanging around the gang for a while, but I guess I forgot I wasn't actually in it yet. The first time we met was at the festival, right?"

I paused for a second. We'd been classmates before that, but as Frank... "Yeah, that was the first time we talked."

"Why'd you run away after the police and ambulances arrived?"

What did I do to deserve this?

I'd forgotten the details of that battle from months ago. In actuality, I'd escaped after the girls returned to prevent Hina from catching a good look at my face, but if he was only considering the arrival of law enforcement, then it would look pretty suspicious to flee. I dodged a bullet there—at least his immediate doubt wasn't on my identity as Blake. If I leaned into his assumption, maybe I could further divert him from the truth.

"I couldn't be caught by the cops there," I bullshitted. "It's nothing that bad, but it would've been troublesome if they recognized me."

"Eh? Did you do something?"

Gosh, he's persistent today. What was this sudden curiosity? Had we grown closer over the few occasions we'd met, and Takemichi no longer held back on his inquisitive questions? "I..."

"It's fine," Mikey interjected. He sat up from the table he'd been slouched against. "Some people don't like talking about their past, Takemitchy. Lots of different people join a gang."

"Oh...sorry, Frank-kun." Takemichi caught the convenient excuse. "I didn't mean to pry." It was important advice, though. Most people who joined gangs probably didn't have the best personal lives. Toman might be an outlier whose worst recurring crimes were underage licenseless driving, vandalism, and noise pollution, but it still was a gang.

"It's alright," I said. "It's nothing that sensitive, but I'd prefer not to disclose it." I parted from them with a quick farewell.

I wandered to the edge of the gathering and chatted with some of the members. The initial excitement from the battle had waned, but there was still a fair amount of buzz about the fight itself and the implications of the results. Boasts like 'I took down five dudes' were countered by 'I defeated ten', but that vein of conversation died after one boy spitefully pointed out that 'Peh-yan beat all of yours, doubled.'

Some other topics came up after the consensus to avoid comparing feats in battle. The recurring question was 'what'll happen to Valhalla?' but there were some interesting ones to overhear, like:

"Whaddya guys think of Kisaki after he protected Mikey?"

"Well, I always thought he was kinda stuck-up, but y'know, after seeing the 3rd Division absolutely trash Valhalla's force..." he inhaled audibly and winced. "Man, he's terrifying. I don't wanna end up on his bad side."

"Why are some of you guys so skeptical about him still? He quit Moebius and fought against the faction that joined Valhalla," someone else interrupted. "Yeah, he's kinda standoffish, but he's loyal to Toman now."

The boy who'd proposed the question nodded. "Yeah, that. Draken led the wave after Takemitchy gave his all, and they took down a lot of people, but I mean, you gotta admit that Kisaki was pretty much the deciding factor. They wiped out a third of Valhalla instantly." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that. He's got no remorse in defeating his old allies."

Peh-yan, who'd vehemently protested Kisaki's nomination, said nothing.

I hummed to myself and walked away before they could notice me listening in. The battle had played out differently, but Kisaki's role remained the same as the story's. Opinion was divided on his loyalties, but it was a significant improvement from the prior distrust all-around.

Hakkai and I met eyes as I strolled around the Division, and I walked closer when he beckoned me over to him and Mitsuya, who turned around to watch me approach.

"See, I told you you'd be fine during the battle." Hakkai patted my back. "I saw you take down a few guys, even if you struggled with some bigger opponents."

"Thanks. Honestly, your training helped a lot," I said.

Mitsuya suddenly spoke up, his voice calm and reflective. "You've got a tendency to disobey orders despite seeming like you'd be the one most likely to follow them." I winced.

"Yeah, you do give off that feeling recently," Hakkai added. "But then you go do something bold."

"Sorry..." I said, trying to sound sorry because I didn't feel remorseful at all. We'd had this conversation a few times in varying situations, but this time, I had no regrets about what I'd done. It'd saved Kazutora and Baji, after all.

Mitsuya exhaled through his nostrils, but the end of his lips quirked up. "I wonder why I felt that—you've been like this since the beginning." Hakkai snorted at some in-joke.

"What?" The 'beginning'...was he referring to when we first met? When I first tried to join Toman by challenging him to a fight? My cheeks heated up and I looked away at the ground. God, that'd been embarrassing.

"Oh yeah, your uniform was a little ripped. Did you get it mended yet?" Mitsuya asked.

"I forgot about it." After waking up at Hayato's house, I'd just stuffed my uniform into my bag and crammed it in my closet upon returning home, having been too tired to attempt to properly hide it. My sewing skills weren't amazing, but I could at least mend a tear. The embroidery on the sleeve might've been cut through, but there wasn't much I could feasibly do about it. "I'll get it fixed by the next meeting."

"Hm, I could mend it for you," he offered. "It also looked oversized on you, and I could take the chance to fit it to you better. How about it?"

"Eh?" Well, if he was offering, then sure. He'd do a better job than my sloppy handiwork, and my uniform was a size too big, given that they were intended for these middle school giants. There were some less-tall members, but I was one of the shortest, even at average height for my age. "That would be really appreciated," I said. "I can give it to you at the end of the next meeting."

"No, just drop it off with me earlier so I can fix it beforehand. If you walked here, I could drive you back afterwards to pick it up." He pointed his thumb at the line of motorcycles at the park's entrance. "I'll stop a block or two away to not alarm your parents or neighbors."

"Oh, sure. Thank you."

"Rather, it's my way of showing thanks," Mitsuya said. Hakkai watched on with a smile. "For reminding me of something important."

We'd only talked occasionally over the past weeks. Was he referring to the time I'd called him? Somehow, it'd inspired him to act out in the battle despite my original intentions of just checking in with him. I wasn't certain what part of that call he'd found insight in, but it'd worked out in the end.

"You're welcome."

---

"Hey! C'mere," a voice called after I slipped past the curtain at the doorway. Souya, the only customer in the small ramen shop, waved to me from a seat at the counter, his blue afro bobbing. The sinister, smiling mask emblazoned on the back of his jacket rippled when he let down his hand. The white-uniformed chef working behind the counter glanced up, but he averted his gaze as we made eye contact.

I didn't eat or shop in Frank's appearance as often, but even my normal self would receive an odd stare or two. Tourism wasn't as huge in 2005; I'd only spotted a handful of foreigners in the city over the past month. Furthermore, I'd bet that at least 95 percent of residents were of Japanese ethnicity. Anyone different tended to stick out.

Pulling out the adjacent stool, I joined the Vice-Captain at the bar. A menu lay open in front of him.

Souya had texted me a few hours earlier with an invitation to lunch. We'd never communicated since the casual meet-up we'd first met at, and even then, we'd talked for a grand total of one minute.

Thus, I wasn't quite sure why he'd invited me.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I am," I said to Souya, his face as cheerful as ever. He probably deserved the question more with his seemingly permanent scowl, but apparently that was normal. "Thanks for inviting me. Was there any particular reason, or did you just want to hang out?"

"I just said it. 'Are you okay.'"

"Huh?" I blinked. That was it?

"You got hit by Baji."

"Well, he struck a number of other members, too," I said.

"For one, I know you, unlike anyone in the 3rd Division—" We know each other to the same extent I know Baji, and I'd be alarmed if he ever invited me to lunch.

"I also saw you also grappling with Kazutora." ...had more people noticed that than I'd thought?

"And you look frail. I'm surprised you're already fine, Baji never holds back."

Albeit blunt with his words and the physical representation of his nickname, Souya was an unexpectedly compassionate individual. It shouldn't have come as so much of a surprise—but here I was, making assumptions based on appearances. It wasn't a new occurrence, and they proved right quite often, but it was always enlightening to see them proved wrong.

"Thank you for the concern," I said. "I hope you're doing well, too?"

"Yeah, I didn't get hurt in the first place."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but..." We both looked to the chef, who hovered in front of us behind the counter. "Have you decided your orders yet?"

"No," Souya intoned.

"Oh, s-sorry. Please take your time." I saw his throat bob as he swallowed. The chef walked to the other end of the kitchen, raised the lid of a bubbling pot, and closed it a few seconds later.

"Sorry, we'll order soon," I called. The chef peeked back at me and nodded. He looked more bothered by Souya than he did me. "Have you been here before?" I asked the Vice-Captain.

"No. Smiley only told me I should try it."

"Hm, it'll be a first for me, too. Let's see what they've got."

---

The doorbell chimed from downstairs.

I resumed folding my tokko-fuku and slipped it into my bag after a momentary pause. Someone walked to the front door, presumably Shigeru from the heavy tread, and pulled it open.

I patted my bag shut over my uniform and plopped on my chair. The car keys in my coat pocket jangled. Perhaps I should arrive to the meeting early—this was the first Toman meeting since the battle, and while the party among the 2nd Division had provided some insight into the gang's reaction, it'd be better to see the gang's collective thoughts rather than generalize using only my Division.

"Blake! Your friend's here!" Shigeru's voice called.

Huh? I looked at the dim hallway from my seat. If it was Hayato, who should be heading to the meeting by himself, Shigeru would've used his name. The same applied to Hina. I stood up and padded across the wooden floorboards, walking to the end of the hall and descending the stairs. At the doorway, standing past my tall host father was a blond girl of my height.

"Yo, Blake." Emma waved.

"E-Emma? Why are—"

"Let's go to the meet-up together," she interrupted. "If that's alright?" Emma smiled at Shigeru and swept her hair over her shoulder.

"As long as you don't return home too late." He gave me a pointed look.

I let my face relax and nodded. "Yeah, I'll come back before midnight at the latest. Let me...get my bag first."

"Sure, no rush."

I strode to my room and snatched my tote bag off the floor by the straps. But I doubled back after turning off the lights to pick up the small parcel sitting at the end of my desk and bury it halfway down my bag, where it was cushioned by my uniform. I hurried down the stairs and back to Emma, who now waited alone at the doorway. After slipping into my loafers, I followed Emma out into the evening.

"You don't usually attend the meetings," I said as we walked to the front gate. "Is there any reason you're coming with me specifically?"

"There's two, actually. First, I heard you got a car and I wanted to see it, so lead the way." She halted at the edge of the street. I turned right, and she strode forward to accompany me. Our footsteps echoed through the street, silent except for the faint buzzing of the pale streetlights lining the road.

I watched our shadows grow and shrink as we walked along the edge of the narrow street. "What's the second?"

"I just achieved it. It's to help you get to the meeting, since you're hiding it from your family." She combed her fingers through her hair and readjusted the collar of her school uniform. "I think it's more convincing if they think you're hanging out with another friend, rather than disappearing to God-knows-where. I kinda forgot to come for the previous meeting, though."

"Oh...thank you for that." Emma knew my identity and kept my secret. However, to go out of her way like this deserved proper acknowledgement. "I headed to the prior meetings with a friend from Toman, so I guess it's fortunate that you only came today." She hummed.

Emma-chan hasn't come since the time she returned with you, drenched. The owner's words of the cafe Emma frequented resurfaced in my mind.

"The cafe mentioned you haven't visited lately. Did something happen?"

"Nah, not really. I just didn't feel like going. How far's your car?" She clasped her fingers behind her back and lengthened her strides.

I stared at her for a second, her face backlit by the streetlight but her golden irises visibly looking back at me. "...it's at the end of this block," I said.

"Oh, the one next to the convenience store? I saw that car park on the way here. Don't tell me which car's yours when we get there—I wanna guess."

"Sure."

The solar-panel roof had turned on the LED lights running along its underside, illuminating the two rows of cars parked beneath. On the main street, a single van disappeared past the adjacent convenience store, which was brightly lit but devoid of customers. It'd be too suspicious to change into my uniform in their bathroom. I looked back at the residential area and scanned for any blindspots between the streetlights.

"Blake, is it that one?" I turned around as Emma tapped my shoulder. She was pointing at the dull gray sedan right next to the crimson coupe a meter away from us that stuck out like a sore thumb.

"No."

"That one?" She tried the off-white sports car beside it.

"No."

"Am I anywhere close?"

"You're heading away from it."

She paused and inched forward to touch the hood of the bright red car in front of us, the black stripes across its side and oversized fenders gleaming. "...this one?"

"Yes."

Emma stared at it for a good ten seconds without saying a word. "It's got a bunch of the classic modifications, but it doesn't suit you whatsoever."

"I promised the previous owner I'd look after his car, and I don't even have the expertise or spare money to tweak it. Anyway, I'm going to go change back there." I pointed at the convenient cluster of trees along the gate of the outermost house.

"Sure, I'll wait here."

I glanced across both ends of the street before crossing. It wasn't an impeccable hiding spot, but that side of the stone gate was angled away from the nearby streetlight and cast in shadow, and the light from the car park was further blocked by the utility pole and stop sign brushing the furthest tree.

I shimmied into the tiny grove of trees and stuck my hand into my bag to pull out my pants by touch alone. After popping my feet out of my loafers, I slipped on the dark trousers under my skirt, which I then drew my legs out of and folded into my bag.

Even though I'd tried them yesterday, the difference was still remarkable. The pants would've fallen off without any resistance if not for my belt with how baggy they used to be, but now, while they still retained some of their looseness, the waistband remained at my hips. Rather than a costume, it felt like a proper uniform. I fumbled with the belt inserted in the belt loops and tightened it, then moved my phone from my coat to my pants pocket.

I'd insisted that I could take my own measurements to Mitsuya, who'd given up and told me a list of concise areas to measure. When he returned my uniform a few days later, I'd tried them on and informed him the fit was perfect.

"Hm?" My hand brushed a hard edge as I reached into my bag again. It was too small to be my shoebox. I squinted at it in the darkness.

Ah, it's the gift. I'll give it to Emma in the car.

I pulled on the rest of my uniform. My loafers went into the shoebox and my coat on top of my skirt. I tucked my glasses into their case before withdrawing a tube of hair gel and running my fingers through my hair, and I clipped my bangs in place and tied the rest of my hair back as I returned to the car park.

Emma, who'd circled around the car to examine it, looked up from the side window. "Geez, I know you're Blake, but it's pretty hard to tell when your hair and glasses aren't covering your face."

"That's good to hear." I reached into my pants pocket, sighed after I felt only my phone, and dug around in my bag for my coat pocket, from which I pulled out my car keys and unlocked the doors. I got into the driver's seat, and Emma took the front passenger seat. While she straightened her skirt and got comfortable on the dark nylon, I took the small box out of my bag and waited for her to finish before handing it to her. "Here, it's for you."

"Hm?" She accepted it. While I deposited my bag on the backseat, I heard the cardboard lid scrape open. "Ooh, that's cute."

Emma lifted the terrarium candle out of the plastic packaging and turned around the glass jar to admire the miniature grove of round cacti sculptures sprouting out of the white wax.

"Happy Birthday," I said. "It's a week late, but I didn't realize until Hina offhandedly mentioned it. Sorry."

"Nah, don't worry about it! Thanks for the gift." She laid the candle back in its box and closed it. Emma kept the box on her skirt, clasped in her hands. "By the way, how do I raise the seat? It's leaning kinda far back."

"There should be a lever on the side of the seat next to the door. Pull up on it," I said. "I took a friend to lunch yesterday, the same friend who normally takes me to Toman. He might've adjusted it."

She bent down and felt around the base of her seat, and the chair rose a few seconds later. Emma adjusted the position to her liking before she leaned back and put on the seatbelt. "Okay, I'm good."

I settled back in my seat and pulled on the seat belt. With my boot, I tapped each of the three pedals, enshrouded in darkness, and I took a deep breath as I held down on the clutch and inserted the key in the ignition. The dashboard flickered on, and the engine roared to life.

"Not to be rude, but I'd prefer we don't talk while I'm driving," I said. "I'd like to focus." The budget I'd allowed myself since my first payment for the car park was tight. I was luckily able to receive a discount, but my finances still weren't looking pretty, and crashing my car would land me in debt. Not that I'd be fine with getting in an accident any other time, though.

"Sure."

I disengaged the handbrake, shifted the stick to first gear, and slowly pushed on the gas as I released the clutch pedal. The car glided away from the car park, and I turned onto the main road.

Emma remained quiet on the way to the shrine. I glanced at her after I depressed the clutch and rolled up to an intersection. She stared ahead through the windshield with a calm frown, watching the bright headlights on the other side of the street without acknowledging me. I refocused on the street after the traffic light switched green.

I noticed quite a few heads turn as I pulled my car into the shrine's parking lot while careful to avoid the scattered motorcycles. I allowed the car to coast to a stop in an unoccupied area before pulling on the handbrake and switching the car off.

"You drive pretty well," Emma said as she removed her seatbelt. "You stop at stop signs, use turn signals, and yield to pedestrians."

"Isn't that normal?"

"You'd be surprised. Draken's a bit more of a responsible driver, but everyone else drives like they literally can't see anyone else on the road but themselves."

Ah, relative to Toman. Although, it was unfair to compare me to middle schoolers who'd never gotten their license and probably didn't learn to drive through the proper means since they were underage.

"Anyway, thanks for the ride—you don't have to drive me back. I'm gonna meet Draken, so bye."

I waved back to Emma, and she stepped out of the car and shut the door while holding my gift to her chest. After pocketing my keys, I closed my eyes, sighed, and climbed outside into the small crowd, who were curiously examining my car.

"Ooh, nice car, Frank." A 2nd Division member stroked his chin. "You got a paint job and some work done on the chassis, but is that a Nissan Silvia RS-X Turbo?"

Sounds like gibberish.

"It might be," I said.

"Wait, isn't that a Gazelle?" another boy interrupted.

The member beside him elbowed him. "They're the same thing, you dolt."

"Is it a Toyota AE86?"

Every gathered member stared at the boy who'd spoken up. "Are you blind?" someone said.

"Frank, could we talk?" a new voice said. My eyes widened as I heard the familiar, clipped articulation.

The boys parted as Kisaki walked up, but with mixed reactions. A few seemed wary of the Captain and tensed up at his appearance, yet the overall crowd remained relaxed and backed away a respectful distance.

He'd been disinterested in me at the previous meetings. Was it the events of the battle that had changed that? I eyed the bespectacled boy, whose calm expression provided no implications of his intentions. I was probably a nuisance to him—I'd thwarted his plans twice by protecting Baji and stopping Kazutora in the recent battle alone.

However, there could be something insightful in seeing what he had to say.

"Alright." I nodded. The spectating members returned to the main gathering, although a handful of boys stole a last glance back at Kisaki.

"They still seem distrustful of you."

"It can't be helped," he sighed. "I can fathom a few of them will never look past my prior allegiances to Moebius, no matter what I sacrifice to ensure Toman's legacy."

Good, I hope they never do.

"But their sentiments would have been much worse if my Division had attacked Baji at the recent battle. You reminded us that Baji was still a member of Toman."

What an interesting lie. Baji had declared his opposition against Kisaki, and Kisaki had returned the favor by enlisting Kazutora's assistance in attempted murder. However, the second part would likely remain secret information, unlike the first. Perhaps the image he was trying to sell was of a compassionate man: despite Baji's blatant dislike for him, Kisaki was willing to accept him. Just like his public apology to Peh-yan for Moebius's responsibility in his Captain's situation.

Kisaki had quite the special talent at pissing people off with politeness.

"I'm glad I helped you realize," I said. "Most of the gang also realizes you're not an enemy anymore."

"I suppose I have you to partially thank for that. I apologize for my abrupt leave at the last meeting; I had some business to attend to." He withdrew his phone from his pocket and flipped it open. "Could we exchange numbers?"

Sirens blared in the back of my mind, breaking the silence and darkness. This felt like too much interest. Without a doubt, I'd triggered his suspicions.

But at the same time, he had less excuses to ignore me if he wanted to keep up this friendly act. Gaining his phone number would provide more opportunities to contact him, and through that, learn his motives.

His answer of 'jealousy' to Takemichi's reason for striking him...there's several ways to interpret that, if he even was genuine. Why would he think Takemichi, his 'hero,' is jealous of him? Maybe asking about Hina will be able to provide more clues; his fixation is more focused on her rather than Takemichi. There's some grudge strong enough that he would kill her in each timeline.

"Sure." I took out my phone, and we exchanged contacts. "By the way, I met Takemichi's girlfriend, Tachibana Hinata, and she mentioned your name...do you know each other, by any chance?"

They knew each from years back, but something had changed between then and the futures Takemichi had seen. Kisaki had never gone out of his way to interact with Takemichi, and he'd never even met Hina in the series aside from the past she'd recounted. As far as I'd read up to, at least. The grudge most likely originated from sometime between his elementary years and now, even if Hina herself didn't display any animosity towards him in the story.

"Hinata...?" The name slipped from his lips, and his pause afterwards broke his smooth cadence. His glasses flashed from the light of a nearby headlight as he readjusted them.

This reaction did not feel intentional. Even when he lied, he always maintained his composure and silver tongue. But this inability to speak...with hawkish eyes, I watched his face as he found his words:

"That's a name I haven't heard in a while. We used to attend a cram school together. How's she doing now?" Kisaki slipped back into his impassive mask, his mouth a flat line but his arched eyebrows giving him a natural glare.

Was this small talk or a genuine question? He'd slipped up, but his reaction didn't seem to be hatred. Then how and when did it turn from whatever-this-currently-is to a motive to kill her in the future?

But it's not because of a sole event in the past—his grudge for Hina builds up later.

If I could find the exact cause, I could stop it from ever developing into a motive to kill Hina.

"I only spoke to her for a few minutes, but she seemed to be doing alright," I continued the lie.

"Hm, I see. I—"

"We're starting the meeting!" Draken's voice bellowed over the parking lot. Kisaki and I turned to look as the black-garbed members hurried to the gate of the shrine.

Kisaki followed them at a moderate pace. "See you around sometime."

I waved, even if he couldn't see me. "Yeah, see you." I watched him walk without looking back for a few more seconds before I jogged in the same direction to catch up with the gang.

The formalities proceeded as normal. I waited beside Hayato among the 2nd Division as Mikey sat on the stairs while talking to Baji, who now donned Toman's uniform.

"That curry place yesterday was amazing, but I was shitting bricks last night."

I chuckled as I turned back to Hayato. "It was delicious, but I also felt a little unwell afterwards."

"Oh yeah, you came today with the Vice-President's girlfriend?" His eyes trailed over to the blond girl standing beside Draken at the base of the stairs.

I nodded. "We became acquaintanced recently." I joined the members around me in quieting down as Mikey stood up and climbed to the top of the stairs, from which he looked down on the gang with his coat hanging open from his shoulders. Baji ascended halfway up the steps.

Mikey cleared his throat. "Baji's rejoining us as the 1st Division Captain. Are there any objections?"

The rowdy cheering implied there weren't. Baji smirked, enjoying the crowd, before hopping down to his Division. This was the good outcome, although it would undeniably alter the events. I watched Chifuyu welcome his Captain back by bumping fists with him. Takemichi stood a little away in the midst of the 1st Division, smiling at his friend.

"There's a second announcement to make, regarding Valhalla," Mikey said once the gang quieted again. He looked to his left, at the forest. "Stop hiding and come out already, Hanma." Muttering and a few gasps rippled through the gang at the name.

"Thank you, thank you for having me." Hanma's voice preceded his appearance, and I could hear his smugness before he stepped out of the trees with a wave to the assembled gang. From beside Mikey, he straightened his white Valhalla jacket and grinned as he observed the unrest. "I'm glad to be here, y'all."

Mikey spoke up over the whispering. "Three weeks ago, we defeated Valhalla, despite the odds. It was an arduous struggle, but despite the injuries you bore or the losses you suffered, you never let your hearts falter. That was the cause of our victory. Now, Valhalla has a message for us." He stepped back and nodded to Hanma, his piece said.

"As you probably know, I'm Hanma. I'm here to represent Valhalla today because we've never had a proper leader. So, I basically hold control."

Hanma swept his arms out. "It sucks, but we lost to Toman! But whatever. Your 3rd Division Captain assisted your President and I in negotiations regarding the fact, and it's been settled that we're joining y'all as a sixth division. All three hundred of us."

I sighed. That part couldn't be helped, either. While Kisaki's immediate plans had been stopped, his influence would continue to spread.

"Seriously? That's...that's insane. Three hundred, all at once?"

"Dude, we're growing hella fast. Not a long way to the top from here."

Excited whispering broke out among Toman at the prospect of expanding. When Moebius joined, the sentiment had been the exact opposite, but unlike Moebius, Valhalla hadn't publicly committed any grievances. There was less reason to doubt their loyalties and morals.

"I object!"

The chattering died, and everyone slowly turned to the 1st Division Captain, who stood at the base of the stairs and glared up at Mikey. "You let Moebius take over the 3rd Division, and now you're letting Valhalla in with its own power, too. A 50-member division was bad, but 300 members? The hell?

"If you're going to let them in, then break them up! They're not Valhalla anymore, they're Toman now!" Baji demanded.

"We've surrendered our identities as Moebius—we're Toman now. The same applies to Valhalla." My eyes shot to Kisaki as he stepped up to the front of the gathering and faced Baji. "We fought on Toman's side at the battle; is that not sufficient proof of our allegiances?"

Baji leaned forward from his slouch and tossed his hair back. "If you've truly given up your previous identities, then why're you so hesitant to dissolve? Both you and Valhalla. Toman doesn't need a malignant faction! If we can't trust you, then how can we let you into our gang?"

The gang listened in fascination to the Captains' debate. Baji was aware that Kisaki already knew Baji had caught him, although I doubted Baji would've held back regardless. If he knew there was someone out to harm Toman, he would not hesitate to place himself on the front lines and take them on, as evidenced by his recent actions regarding Valhalla.

And as he was doing now.

Both boys fell silent as Mikey spoke. "Baji, that's enough. Kisaki's staying where he is." Baji clicked his tongue, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "But it is true that the 6th Division will be unproportionately large. Hanma, split up your members among the current Divisions. There will be no 6th Division." It was Kisaki's turn to sigh in defeat. But neither Captain protested him—Mikey's word was law.

"Oh? We're splitting up?" Hanma strolled down the stairs with his hands in his pockets. "Sure, that sounds fun. Then, can I join the 1st Division?" He stopped in front of Baji with an amused quirk of his lips.

The 1st Division Captain leered at the taller boy. "If you can keep up with us, sure."

"Likewise. Take care of me, my dear Captain." His golden earring swinging, Hanma bowed his head to the black-haired boy, but the smirk never left his face.

Baji's survival would be quite the game-changer.

---

"Hmm...nah, try this on instead." Emma pushed a jacket into my chest with the exact same design as the one I was currently wearing.

"Aren't these the same?"

"They're not. C'mon, go get changed." She ushered me back into the stall and shut the white curtain.

I could only blink for several seconds, the second jacket bundled up in my arms.

"I don't hear you changing." Emma's silhouette past the curtain put her hands on her hips.

I sighed quietly and took off the jacket, folded it in two, and lay it on the bench before putting on the new one. My eyes trailed to the wall-mounted mirror while I straightened the jacket. Upon a hasty glance, I could not distinguish any difference between this and the previous. A vertical red stripe ran along the right breast down the jacket, which ended at the base of my fingers. The smooth fabric was thicker than Frank's typical jacket and more suited for the approaching winter, but it was just as loose, the sleeves gently sloping down from my shoulders to past my palms.

"Are you finished?"

"Yeah." I brushed aside the curtain and presented myself to Emma, who'd sat down on the bench in front of my stall. There was no one else in the small changing room, a fact Emma was taking advantage of by laying out 'accepted' and 'rejected' piles of clothes across the two available benches. "Isn't this the same?"

"No. First of all, that's a notch lapel. Second, those shoulders have more structure. Guys want a slight taper from the shoulders to waist, so that looks a little better. The previous one was too vertical. Do the bottom two buttons."

I obeyed.

"Raise your arms and turn around."

I obeyed.

Emma snapped her fingers. "That's a much better fit. Gotta save the best for last."

I would've preferred we did the best first, but I can't complain when I'm the one who asked for her advice.

She had been rather ready to help me, but I could trust her to continue keeping my secret.

"Go get changed. I'll tidy this up," she said.

"Thanks, Emma." I returned to the stall and changed back into my blouse and long skirt, which Emma had instructed me to replace with a t-shirt and pair of jeans from the store as she reconstructed Frank's wardrobe. I slipped on my glasses from my coat pocket.

We exited the store several minutes later, with me two shopping bags heavier and ten-thousand yen lighter. The rest of my budget for this month had vanished within an hour. These clothes should last me the next few months, though.

The scarlet foliage of the slender trees beside the sidewalk provided ample shade from the noon sun, but despite the clear sky, the weather was cool from the steady breeze. Emma swept her hair back over her shoulder after the wind ruffled it, and she unrolled the sleeves of her jacket.

"Wanna hang out at the cafe for a bit?" she said as we strolled side-by-side across the sidewalk. Not too many people were on the streets away from the center of Shibuya, and it was quiet enough for us to chat at room-level.

"That sounds like a nice idea." I'd have to dip into my savings a bit, but it was a Sunday afternoon; I could at least treat myself.

October had been hectic, but November was a welcome respite that had provided plenty of opportunities to wind down in preparation for the next arc. However, it would be leagues more challenging than what I'd attempted for Halloween. In addition to a bigger departure from my knowledge, what I wanted to attempt was far more ambitious: a conflict-free resolution.

Could I do it? My plan had failed, but the events with Valhalla had been resolved by luck. I looked down at the palm of my free hand, the faint scar across my fingers visible. All the previous battles had pushed me to my limits, but the Black Dragons were on another level of strength and notoriety entirely. My physical intervention would likely yield little results. Therefore, my plan would have to play out down to the details, but with more moving parts—Baji, who'd stir up chaos in his war against Kisaki, and Kisaki, who'd fight back in return—the chances of success were far lower.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

"Nothing much," I said to Emma and shrugged. "It's quite cool today, isn't it? The forecast..."

A dark figure passing in the opposite direction didn't capture my attention until I heard the chime of a bell as they passed me, along with a familiar voice:

"Thanks for asking," Kazutora murmured.

I whirled around mid-sentence to see the streaky haired boy walk away with his hands tucked in the pockets of his dark jacket. His words could have just the whistling of the wind, but whether he'd said anything was unessential—Kazutora was alive and well.

"...do you know that guy, Blake?" Emma stopped beside me and watched the delinquent depart.

Feeling the small smile spread across my face, I turned back and ambled away from Kazutora. "I guess I do."

This was proof that I could change the future. The people I wanted to rescue had survived, despite my fear of failure. I'd succeeded in that goal for two arcs and counting, and extending that to the next one and beyond shouldn't be an insurmountable challenge. I'd climbed up this far—while the path might steepen from here onwards, I just needed to gather the will to tackle the next challenge.

Or so I'd thought.

In reality, while the future isn't bound to anyone's control alone, no person can manipulate the volatile flames, flickering and dancing without any master, devouring anything in its way, and swelling beyond humanity and nature's control. Even a single spark has the potential to transform into an inferno, and everyone holds a match of their own. It only takes one individual to burn down the wooden framework, to which the building collapses on itself without adequate support. Only one person.

To be able to locate and stop all those potential arsonists on my own?

Clearly, I'd made a hasty generalization.

---

Three days before the battle but twelve years into the future:

He came to with his head tilted back while he drank from a glass of water.

Takemichi's eyes bulged as it went down the wrong pipe, and he yanked the glass away from his mouth without caring that it splashed across the floor as he hacked the liquid out of his lungs. His eyes watered.

Not a great time to return to.

He was in his apartment. The tatami room at the entrance had random garbage shoved to the walls, and his kitchen area wasn't much better, with a stack of unwashed dishes cluttering the sink and emptied containers scattered across the counter. He could see the sun setting outside past the laundry he'd hung up to dry in the corner of the room. Recently, his apartment did start to feel rather unsanitary after he'd gotten used to his mom keeping his room tidy in the past. Maybe he'd actually put in some effort to clean the place. One day.

But it was his place, which meant he had to clean up the mess he'd just made from waterboarding himself. He stared down at the wet tiles. The trash around his room might not be ideal, but he'd arranged them so they wouldn't be tripping hazards. This, however, was a slipping hazard.

He sighed and grabbed a towel. He was in no particular rush to contact Naoto.

It was after he wiped the floor dry and squeezed the towel over the sink that he stared at the tall heap of dishes occupying the other half of the sink and part of the counter.

Maybe he'd just clean those up, too.

Takemichi was on his ninth dish when his doorbell rang. "Hold on a minute!" he called. He shut the tap, placed the dish on the counter, and wiped his hands on his pants before hurrying to the door and opening it. "Sorry, I was just doing my dishes..."

Naoto stood on the balcony in the sharp suit he always wore.

"Naoto? Wait, how'd you know...?"

"My memories update when you return to the present, remember?" Naoto gave a tight smile. "Although did you say you were cleaning your dishes?" He poked his head into Takemichi's apartment but withdrew it with a grimace after a quick glance around. Rude. "Takemichi-kun, I will pay you to clean up your apartment. Please clean up your living space."

Takemichi stared at the younger man. "Maybe," he reluctantly conceded. "Maybe."

"But getting back to business: why did you come back?" Naoto said. "Is there something you need?"

"Yeah." Takemichi cleared his throat and stood taller. "I want to talk with Draken-kun about Kisaki more."

The detective suddenly grabbed his wrist. "Huh? Wha?!"

"Visiting hours have already ended today. You should've come earlier." Naoto scowled. "But it's too late for that. I'll come back tomorrow at...5 PM. That's the earliest time I'm available." He let go of Takemichi, who awkwardly stared at the younger man.

He'd expected a quick trip to the future to find out more about Valhalla, but now he'd have to wait an entire day to get his answers because he'd neglected to make haste after visiting Osanai with Chifuyu. "Sorry," Takemichi mumbled. "I forgot to check the visiting hours."

Naoto sighed. "I shouldn't have reacted so harshly, either. I apologize. Work has been hectic lately, but I happened to be nearby when I felt you return, so I came by to check-in." The detective stepped back and gave a curt nod. "I should return soon. I'll see you tomorrow, Takemichi-kun. Remember, 5 PM."

"Ok...got it." Takemichi made a mental note to set an alarm on his phone. Naoto hurried down the balcony, his dress shoes tapping across the worn-down metal. Takemichi watched the detective's head disappear down the stairs before he shut his door and leaned back against it.

During the times he'd met Naoto in the future, the detective had always seemed like he had the time to put up with Takemichi's requests. If it was work-related...did something happen with Toman while he was in the past? He could ask Naoto later, but for now, he had an alarm to set. He scanned over his cluttered room for his smartphone and spied it past several empty cans of beer on the stout table in front of his futon.

He stepped over a stack of old magazines and bent down to grab his phone, but something glittered atop the screen that he hadn't previously noticed.

Two necklaces sat intertwined, one a grimy black with splotches of the underlying silver, but otherwise carbon copies of each other down to the alternating chain beads and the four-leaf clover pendant. The leaves of the darkened necklace were a dull green that no longer sparkled with the same luster as the matching charm beside it, which was comically clean in comparison.

A familiar tug at his eyebrows threatened to unleash the sorrow he'd locked away in his heart with his last vow to save Hina, but he closed his eyes and held his breath until the feeling subsided.

He'd only given Hina one of them, the one which now lay charred in his room. He delicately picked up both necklaces, scooping his hand under them so that they rested in his palm. He hadn't seen the other pair around in the present last time, but the slight scratches and deformities in the clean pair implied it wasn't new. Hina's mom had given him the first one, but where had the second come from?

Something burned within him, scratching at the walls of his chest and wailing nonsensical words. Takemichi blinked and leaned away from the necklaces sitting in his hand. Were those the remaining emotions of his past self? They were quite visceral for an object he'd never seen before in his life.

As for Hina's...that was the reason why he was still pursuing this journey through time. He picked up the handkerchief on the other end of the table and gently wrapped the necklaces in the soft cotton before walking to his closet and placing it in its own compartment. His heart seemed to lighten as he closed the door.

---

Takemichi was better prepared when his doorbell rang at exactly 5 PM. He turned off his phone alarm, snatched a hoodie from his drying rack, shut the lights, and stuffed his feet into his sneakers before locking the door and rushing down from the apartment balcony after Naoto's departing figure.

A car engine roared to life the instant his shoes hit the concrete, and he strode down the sidewalk towards the gray sedan that he could see Naoto in the driver's seat of. It was probably a rental, after his car had been destroyed at the park they'd gone with Hina to. Takemichi's hand faltered above the door handle, but he pulled it open and slipped into the passenger seat beside Naoto. The seatbelt clicked over his hoodie, and Naoto pulled on the gear stick and moved the car onto the street.

Naoto kept his eyes on the road, but he began speaking to Takemichi: "What do you need to see him for? What happened?"

"Kisaki became Toman's 3rd Division Captain."

Naoto's knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. "Already?" He shot a worried glance at Takemichi. "You mentioned on your last leap that you've not seen Kisaki yet. How did he accumulate power in such a short time?"

"I don't know," Takemichi honestly answered. "Mikey just suddenly announced that Kisaki would be leading the part of Moebius that became Toman's 3rd Division, and then I..." He should tell Naoto the full story because they were working together. "...might've punched Kisaki."

"Did he suffer irreparable, traumatic brain injury?"

"Um, no, he got back up." Naoto clicked his tongue.

Takemichi pushed the conversation along. "Anyway, there's this new gang that's about to clash with Toman. Valhalla. And apparently, Kisaki's controlling it from the shadows. But I don't get why Kisaki's having the gangs fight, so I want to ask Draken-kun about it. Do you know anything about Valhalla?"

The detective was silent for several seconds. "I don't believe I've ever heard of them."

Takemichi wasn't sure why that surprised him. Perhaps it was because Naoto always seemed to have an answer to his questions. Maybe not a complete answer, but he'd provide vital information for Takemichi to work off of. "They're apparently a really big gang, though. You haven't found anything in your research?"

"It's much harder to find information about Toman before it was considered a threat to public safety and began being documented," Naoto explained. "Incidents that are reported in detail generally involve either a death, arrest, or some other momentous event. The fight at the festival, for instance, originally resulted in Ryuuguji Ken's death.

"Unless history has changed since your last time leap, take comfort in that fact. I've scoured through every piece of information about Toman I could procure using my position, and I can't recall any mention of a 'Valhalla' anywhere." Naoto smiled grimly while watching the road.

Takemichi hummed and let his gaze wander over the passing buildings. It was a little reassuring to hear that nothing big involving Valhalla had happened, at least from the public's view. However, the battle had seemed like it was winding up to be a big one. Kazutora was a part of Valhalla—Takemichi had thought he would be an ally since Kazutora had saved him in the present—and Baji had left Toman to investigate Kisaki. But most of all, Kisaki was behind it. He hated to admit it, but Kisaki's plan to take Draken's spot had been brutal and effective. Takemichi had almost failed to stop it.

They were silent for several minutes, Naoto focused on driving and Takemichi considering what he would ask Draken at their second meeting.

"I almost forgot to mention." Takemichi looked back as Naoto spoke up. "The Organized Crime Division was able to obtain some interesting information about Myers, Blake, as a culprit of the park shooting."

Takemichi had almost forgotten about his side quest to investigate Myers because he'd just been looking into Valhalla with Chifuyu for the past few days. He had managed to ask around beforehand, but to mixed success. Hina had told him information he'd already known and that 'she was a nice girl.' On the other hand, Akkun looked like he nearly shit himself when Takemichi had asked before he warned Takemichi to stay careful around her. Takemichi had, admittedly, also nearly shit himself when the classroom door burst open moments after to reveal Myers behind the rest of his friends.

"I didn't find much myself," Takemichi said.

"I don't expect you to have, because I think your theory of her being a time traveler is incorrect."

"Wait, then how could she have known the shooting was going to happen?" That had been the cornerstone of Takemichi's suspicions. "She knew the correct time and place, and I think you'd already know by this point if she were a part of Toman and got the information from them, right?" The realization clicked the instant he said that sentence. "Wait, wait, is she—"

"No, she isn't a member of Toman," Naoto replied with a calm voice, his eyes still focused on the road. "But your guess isn't too far off. My sister's friend was supposed to live in Shibuya on a student visa for a year, until she committed arson with homicide and was incarcerated in a juvenile detention center."

Takemichi's eyes widened. "She...she killed someone?" Myers would do that? The reserved foreign girl who got high test scores and was friends with Hina?

She'd attempted murder in the previous timeline at the park, where Kazutora had saved him from Hanma and the flaming car, but he'd thought that was a one-time thing to save Hina. But to think she'd killed someone in the past...surely, there must have been a reason. Myers was his classmate, and while they rarely talked, he at least knew she would not have done it without just cause. She'd risked her life to save Hina, after all.

And he surely would've remembered if his classmate had committed a felony in his past. It was the kind of topic that would be gossiped about by everyone in middle school. He'd completely forgotten about Myers until he first met her in the past. Had his time-leaping done something to influence her? Or perhaps, had she seen the awaiting future...? Takemichi tugged on his seatbelt to stop the strap from constricting his neck.

"Yes, she confessed," Naoto said. "My father was assigned to that case, and because it was an arson, it was difficult for the police to find clues to determine the culprit—"

"Still, that doesn't explain how she knew that Hina would be murdered that night."

"I'm getting to that. We found an encrypted email on her phone delivered via web portal to your friend, Sendou, and while we haven't been able to read the contents yet, they appear to have had several correspondences over the past few months."

It took Takemichi all his effort to not interrupt again. "Akkun?!" he exclaimed after the detective finished. "They didn't get along in the past at all."

"It's been twelve years, Takemichi-kun. Considering Sendou's role in the murder, he likely informed Myers of the incident that was about to occur. That's the more plausible alternative to her being a time traveler."

Takemichi let the information sink in for several seconds. "I guess that's true," he admitted. "That scenario makes sense."

Naoto tapped his finger on the wheel as he waited for the traffic light to turn. "But enough about that. Takemichi-kun, ready your questions. We'll only have a handful of minutes." The prison building loomed over the next block, the uniform, pale walls and repeating windows cast in shadow from the setting sun beyond it.

---

"The battle with Valhalla? Yeah, we won that one," Draken drawled.

"Eh? We—o-of course we did," Takemichi corrected himself. He'd witnessed the internal strife building up to the fight, but Draken did not look bothered whatsoever through the glass partition. Had it been that uneventful?

"How about Kisaki? Did he try to do anything?"

Draken shifted on his foldable chair. "Kisaki, huh? That was about the time he joined Toman. Most guys weren't happy with his presence, but he took advantage of the battle to win their trust and respect. And then he kept chipping his way into Mikey's heart from there." He gave a sharp sigh.

Was Kisaki having the gangs fight just to elevate his status? It sounded excessive—surely there were less complicated methods to achieve the same goal. "Wait, but wasn't Kisaki Valhalla's true leader?"

"What?" Draken blinked. "Wasn't Hanma the leader—oh yeah, there was some rumor about a 'shadow leader.' Whoever they were, they never revealed themself even after Valhalla disbanded. Sounded like a load of bullshit at the time. But now that you mention it...Kisaki might have been that person, if Hanma was working for him by that time."

Maybe it hadn't outwardly affected Kisaki in any other way, but Takemichi was not satisfied by that answer. Kisaki must have had some other purpose. He could see the seconds-hand on the clock past Draken inching towards the end of their allocated time. He'd learned plenty from their few minutes together already, but he still wasn't getting the full picture.

"Then what happened with Kazutora-kun? Baji-kun?"

Takemichi did not miss Draken's subtle twitch of his eyebrows, the movement plainly visible on his bald head. There had been something involving those two, whether it was under the influence of Kisaki or not. The time-leaper leaned in closer.

"Kazutora was manipulated as a tool." Draken closed his eyes and rested his handcuffed wrists on his lap. "Valhalla—or Kisaki, I guess—took advantage of his grudge against Mikey to have him fight on their side. But it could've gone worse if Frank hadn't stopped Kazutora..." He trailed off into silence.

There was a knock on the door. Takemichi's eyes darted to the clock, and he began speaking faster. "Hadn't stopped Kazutora-kun from what? What did Frank-kun do?"

He heard Naoto's dress shoes clicking across the tiles behind him and the door creaking open for the detective to give a hushed exchange with someone.

Draken was immune to the shift in mood. "Kazutora would've attacked Baji if Frank hadn't stopped him. And as for Frank—" His eyes reopened and met Takemichi's, yet Takemichi had the feeling the prior Vice-President was staring past him at a memory of the past.

"Frank did nothing. Nothing at all," Draken whispered.

Huh? That was the exact opposite of what he'd just said. He took in Draken's slight frown and slumped shoulders, but neither sign gleaned much information. Calm mixed with reflectiveness and a tinge of sadness. Were they even still talking about the same—

The hinges on the door groaned, revealing a capped prison officer at the entrance of the room. "Your visitation is over," he intoned. Behind him, Naoto shook his head with a scowl. Takemichi bit his lips as he glanced back at Draken, but he obediently got up from his chair and trudged away.

"Even though I told you to leave Tokyo, thank you for visiting me again, Takemitchy."

The time traveler stopped and looked back at Draken, who gave him a serene smile. It was strange to see that peaceful expression on his face when combined with his shaved head, neat suit, and handcuffed wrists. Besides his appearance and abode, he hadn't felt much different from the boy Takemichi had seen only hours ago. But from Draken's perspective, twelve years had passed. It could've been months, years maybe, since he'd met any of his old friends, especially if they'd also grown dark with Toman. It was possible that the only person who'd visited him was Emma—Takemichi couldn't fathom their relationship would fall apart even over a decade.

The prison officer waiting at the door remained silent, and Takemichi took that as permission to give a final farewell.

"Yeah." Takemichi tried to return a reassuring grin of his own, but the ends of his lips quivered as the knot in his heart stretched taunt. "I hope you stay well."

I'll get you outta here, Draken-kun.

---

"So...I guess I don't need to worry too much about Valhalla."

Naoto's eyes remained on the road as he replied, diligent as ever. "Perhaps you may not need to pay it as much attention as you expected, but don't grow negligent. Kisaki gaining influence in Toman is still problematic. Do what you can to prevent or minimize it but be careful to not catch his attention more than you already have." The detective switched on the signal light after they halted at an intersection and stared at Takemichi. "If Kisaki thinks you're an obstacle, he may try to remove you."

Takemichi shivered under Naoto's grim gaze. "Do you think he'd actually try to kill me?"

"The Kisaki of now wouldn't hesitate. But his younger self...it's not impossible. I don't have sufficient evidence, but I suspect that Kisaki was behind the attempt on Ryuuguji's life."

"Ah, I forgot to mention that I talked to Osanai-kun in the past. He confirmed that Kisaki was responsible for that." The fact didn't inspire much courage.

Naoto hummed. "I see."

The detective returned to the wheel and steered them left, back in the direction of Takemichi's apartment. He watched from the passenger seat as the headlights switched on, expelling the long shadows on the road in front of them. The horizon past silhouetted Tokyo still glowed vibrant gold, but the encroaching night was not far from consuming the sky, bringing wispy, dark clouds with it.

"...Naoto, do you know of a 'Frank' in Toman currently?"

"Toman is a massive organization whose full scope of members and activities are largely unknown. Asking to locate a single person by first name alone is almost impossible, if they're even recorded in our databases." Naoto swept his bangs away from his eyes while keeping one hand on the wheel. "However, 'Frank'...I know I've heard that name somewhere, sometime long in the past. I can only recall the name being mentioned, but not the context in which it appeared."

It wasn't exactly an uncommon foreign name, but Takemichi jumped on the possible lead. "He helped me save Draken-kun during the festival. He's part of the 2nd Division. I heard he's from America, and he has a bit of an accent."

"Is Frank his real name? What is his surname? When did he come to Japan and how long is he staying, if he's not a permanent resident? What visa is he on, if any? Or is he a Japanese citizen? Where is he staying?"

Takemichi shifted under the deluge of questions, all of which he'd never considered. "I'm not sure," he mumbled. "I don't know much about Frank-kun's personal life."

Naoto sighed. "Sorry. I don't mean to overwhelm you, but I don't have enough information to make a thorough search. However, I'll see what I can do; what Ryuuguji said is certainly suspicious. I might be able to recall where I heard his name if I ponder over it for a while."

"Then I'll try to find some more about him." Chifuyu seemed like a safe bet, with their shared allegiances against Kisaki. "And I'll also try to limit what Kisaki can achieve and find anything I can use to get him expelled from Toman."

"And aiming to overtake Sano Manjirou as President?"

He felt his face heat up, and Naoto smirked despite still watching the road. "Y-yeah, I'm still working on that. But I've found an ally against Kisaki who promised he'd help me," he defended.

"Who?"

"Chifuyu. Matsuno Chifuyu." Now that Takemichi thought of it, where had Chifuyu ended up in the present? Was he in Toman? Was he still fighting against Kisaki?

"Hm, Matsuno." Naoto's fingers tapped on the steering wheel, and he nodded. "That makes sense. You can trust him, Takemichi-kun."

"Huh?" The seatbelt tugged on his shoulder as Takemichi leaned closer. "Have you heard of him? Is he still in Toman?"

"He is in Toman," the detective confirmed. "However, I don't want to overload you with excess information. You focus on the past, and I'll pass on everything I think is important about the present. I will say, though, that the situation in Toman has developed nicely while you were in the past, and that hasn't changed with your recent return. Keep up the good work."

Takemichi frowned at the obscure answer, but he closed his eyes and leaned back into the headrest. Was it related to Naoto's suddenly busy work? This leap had given him plenty to think about already, and perhaps it was better to not try to absorb everything. Unlike Naoto, he didn't have an expansive memory capable of juggling the countless shards of information accumulated over years of research or each past self Naoto's consciousness jumped to in the updated timelines. While Takemichi didn't know what lay ahead of him, he had an objective that he knew he was making progress to. That was enough for him.

"I will." Takemichi reopened his eyes with a deep breath. "We'll rescue Hina, eventually." He extended a hand to Naoto, his fingers slightly curled and thumb raised over his palm. "Let's shake."

Naoto did not take his eyes off the road. "I am not lugging your lifeless body into my apartment. Unless it's incredibly urgent, please stay conscious until we are inside and you are safely sitting on my couch. Luckily everything resets when you return, but last time we shook hands while standing, you collapsed against my bookshelf and knocked it over." Naoto clicked his tongue and glared out the windshield.

"Oh, um, ok."

---

Naoto observed the time-traveler's body laying against his couch, chest rising and heart beating. Even though the present would shift whenever Takemichi returned from the past, erasing the body from his apartment and updating Naoto's memories, Naoto would at least perform the basic human courtesy in taking care of him. After all, Takemichi was his chance to save his sister.

Takemichi's body when his consciousness had vanished into the past was, however, a bizarre existence. Naoto knew enough of the sciences to perform his job, but Takemichi was an anomaly even beyond the time travel business. In the two weeks he'd been gone to prevent Ryuuguji's death, Takemichi's body had continued breathing, his skin flushed with life and body retaining supple nutrition despite Naoto's hesitance to apply an IV.

Additionally, if Takemichi had ever had any unfortunate 'accidents' involving his bowels, Naoto would've dumped his body at a hospital for them to deal with instead.

He'd grown up to disappointingly realize that ghosts didn't exist and he'd never stumble upon a notebook that would let him meet a Shinigami, yet science simultaneously implied time travel was possible.

The Law of Conservation of Energy, however, was far less uncertain.

Naoto continued staring at the body in front of him, who was violating the laws of physics with every breath he took. He walked away after a good minute of confronting the supernatural and returned to his work.

His mobile phone rang in his trousers pocket. Naoto finished reading his current paragraph of the report before he withdrew his phone and checked the caller.

It was an unknown number. He was about to hang up, but his thumb hesitated over the screen. He'd started working with them recently, and while he had a usual contact, perhaps another person was calling instead this time. If it was a spam call, he'd report their number and disconnect without a wasted second.

He accepted the call and held it up to his ear. "Hello?"

Out came a voice that sent a veritable shiver down his spine, a chilling voice that he immediately recognized from having repeatedly poured over the limited yet priceless recordings and notes his predecessor had risked his life to take. A voice that would've otherwise stirred Naoto into simmering rage if not for his world cracking around him.

"Hello, Tachibana Naoto, the police officer assisting some of my most trusted men in staging a rebellion. I have a proposal for you," Kisaki Tetta purred into his ear.