The chaos had finally died, but the air still carried a quiet heaviness—like the world itself was holding its breath. The cursed sand that once swallowed the cruise ship had vanished back into the sea, and though the sky was clear, unease clung to everyone who remained aboard.
Shoto's unconscious body was carried off the deck by Ren and Ryuki, his weight heavy with exhaustion and wounds that came from more than just flesh and bone. Yumiko clung to his hand the entire time, refusing to let go even for a moment. They brought him to one of the cruise cabin rooms and gently laid him on the bed.
His breathing was shallow but steady. The black scales that had once spread across his face had faded entirely, leaving only faint markings—like shadows of a beast that had receded.
Yuumo stood in the doorway with her arms folded, her eyelids low with fatigue.
"He looks like hell," she muttered, though a hint of respect tugged at the edge of her voice. "I've never seen anyone come back looking that bad—and still be breathing."
Mai stood close to the bedside, unsure and shaken. She dipped a cloth into a nearby bowl of water and gently pressed it to Shoto's forehead, trying not to let her hands shake.
"These wounds… they're horrible. Is he even going to be okay?"
Perched at the top of the bedframe like he belonged there, Neko lounged with casual confidence. His tail flicked as he spoke with absolute calmness.
"Relax. Once the ship turns around and we head home, he'll be back to having nothing but a few scratches."
Yumiko was silent. She hadn't released Shoto's hand once, her thumb brushing over his knuckles as she watched his sleeping face in painful silence. Her expression was unreadable—fear, love, frustration, hope.
Ren leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his jaw tense but his posture composed. Ryuki, on the other hand, grinned inappropriately as always.
"Heh. Good ol' Shoto," Ryuki laughed, patting Shoto's abdomen with the back of his hand. "Always hoggin' all the fun."
Then—because his brain had no brakes—he balled his fist and slammed it, playfully but firmly, right into Shoto's stomach.
The reaction was instant.
Shoto jolted upright like someone had plugged him into an electrical outlet. His eyes flew open and he spewed blood upward like a goddamn fountain.
"BWUAAGH—!?!" he choked.
"RYUJI!!!"
Ren, Mai, Yuumo, and Yumiko all shouted at once.
The group lunged at Ryuki, shoving him away from the bed as Shoto curled forward, coughing violently and groaning like his soul had just been kicked out of his body.
"You absolute idiot!" Mai smacked Ryuki's arm.
"Are you trying to kill him again!?" Yuumo shouted.
"What part of 'unconscious and injured' did you not understand!?" Ren barked.
Shoto collapsed back onto the pillow with a pained grunt, eyes half-lidded, face twisted in comical agony. Yumiko immediately hovered over him in panic.
"Shoto! Shoto, don't move! Oh my god—Ryuki, I swear to—!"
Ryuki only winced and scratched the back of his head.
"…He'll walk it off?"
Everyone yelled at him again.
Meanwhile — Outside the RoomThe hallway beyond the cabin was dim, the soft evening lights flickering across the walls as the sun dipped below the ocean's edge.
Hikaru stood against the wall with his arms crossed, back straight, eyes fixed in thought. His expression was blank, but his mind was loud. His eyes flicked once toward Shoto's door—not out of worry, but calculation.
"Collapsing after a fight is one thing," he murmured. "But if he got stronger in there… then I need to surpass him. No matter what."
A memory forced itself briefly into his mind—two boys, younger, standing under a sky much clearer than this one. A promise spoken between them. A promise neither had forgotten.
Hikaru's fist clenched.
"Stronger… stronger—"
A voice cut through his thoughts like nails on metal.
"HAAH! Sounds like you're jealous of Kazami!"
Hikaru didn't even flinch at the obnoxious tone. He looked to his side to see Juxo sauntering toward him with that razor-toothed grin, eyes wild with excitement.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Hikaru asked, brows narrowing. "And how did you even find this place? Weren't we supposed to meet in three mo—"
Juxo cut him off, dragging his tongue slowly across his sharp teeth.
"Three months to wait for that red-haired chick and Sho-brat to get ready to fight the two strongest, right? Yeah—plans changed."
His grin widened, voice dropping low.
"You and I are gonna fight, whether you like it or not!"
Hikaru finally pushed himself off the wall and began walking away, past Juxo and the cabin door.
"Fine. Let's get this over with."
Juxo followed close behind, eyes gleaming maliciously.
"Hahahaha—That's what I like to hear!"
Yuumo stepped into the hallway just in time to see the two heading off toward the upper deck.
Her eyes narrowed in disbelief.
"Oh, come on! Shoto's over here dying and you're about to throw yourself into a fight too, Hikaru!? I swear—wait up!!"
She broke into a run, chasing after them.
But she wasn't the only one following.
A hooded figure trailed a short way behind her—silent, steady, and unnoticed.
The upper deck was nearly deserted, lit only by thin bands of moonlight stretching across polished wood. The cold night breeze rolled in from the ocean, brushing over the ship with a salt-touched chill. Waves lapped against the hull below—calm, but ominous, like the breath held before a storm.
Hikaru stepped onto the deck first.
His footsteps were sharp and measured, echoing in the open silence. Hands buried in his pockets, his face was carved into a calm, hard expression—emotionless, focused. He walked to the center of the deck and stopped, choosing a spot with clear sightlines and plenty of room to maneuver.
Behind him, a second presence emerged.
Juxo strolled out with a lazy swagger, shoulders loose, head tilted slightly as though this were nothing more than a playground. But his eyes—sharp, predatory—betrayed the hunger beneath. Under the moonlight, his grin flashed wide, jagged teeth glinting like a shark's.
"This place is perfect!" he cackled, spreading his arms as if to welcome the wind. "Plenty of space to bleed!"
Hikaru didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
Without a word, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small metal cylinder. With a click, it unfolded and extended, transforming into a bow—sleek black limbs reinforced with faint crimson lines pulsing along its frame.
He drifted toward the far corner of the deck, where he'd left a compact bag against the railing. He knelt briefly, retrieving a quiver of arrows and slinging it over his shoulder with practiced ease.
Juxo mirrored him in silence, his hand drifting behind his back. His eyes never blinked, never wavered. The tension between them thickened, the silence heavy enough to fracture.
Then Hikaru moved first.
In a single fluid motion, he drew an arrow and fired.
The arrow streaked through the air like a flash of silver.
Juxo didn't dodge.
With a smooth, almost lazy motion, he drew a massive longblade from behind his back. The steel blurred as he swung upward—SHINK!—splitting the arrow in midair as though it were paper.
Hikaru didn't pause. Another arrow was already nocked, string drawn taut. The second bolt flew even faster than the first—
—but Juxo vanished.
A flicker. A blur. Then nothing.
Hikaru's eyes snapped forward—
Juxo materialized right in front of him, blade cutting a vicious arc meant to cleave him in two.
Hikaru threw himself backward into a controlled backflip, the slash passing inches from his chest. His boots hit the deck and he slid across the wooden boards, using the motion to reset his stance.
BOOM.
Yuumo burst through the stairwell doors just in time to see the clash, eyes wide with disbelief.
"ARE YOU TWO SERIOUS RIGHT NOW!?"
Neither fighter even acknowledged her.
Hikaru was already drawing another arrow—this one crackling faintly with energy that sparked along the shaft. His gaze was razor-sharp, fixed only on his opponent.
Juxo crouched, muscles coiling like a spring, that predatory grin somehow stretching even wider as his grip on the longblade tightened.
The air itself seemed to hold its breath.
Just then, at the far end of the deck near the entrance, a silent figure cloaked in a dark hood stepped into view—watching. Unmoving. Hidden in the shadows.
The wind howled across the open deck, slicing through the night air like a blade. Hikaru drew back the bowstring, the arrow in his grasp pulsing with energy. His gaze was locked, calm and merciless, moonlight reflecting off his lenses.
Juxo struck first.
His body snapped forward with beast-like ferocity, the longblade cleaving an arc through the air. The sheer force of his step shattered the boards beneath his feet, wood splintering like glass.
Hikaru released.
FWIP—!
The arrow shot forward like lightning, crackling with power. Juxo twisted his torso mid-charge, the projectile grazing his shoulder before detonating behind him in a burst of thunder. The shockwave rocked the deck, blasting chips of wood and rattling the railings.
Hikaru was already airborne, flipping back and drawing another arrow with flawless precision.
But Juxo was on him in an instant.
"TOO SLOW!"
The arrow streaked out, but Juxo narrowly sidestepped—only for the projectile to split midair. In a blink, it became two smaller arrows that curved toward him like guided darts.
"Huh?"
For a brief second, Juxo actually looked confused as the twin arrows chased him across the deck. He bolted, boots tearing grooves in the wood, but one arrow clipped his side and knocked him off balance.
He stumbled, then let out a low, amused chuckle.
Hikaru adjusted his glasses with one finger, his expression flat.
"You should quit while you're still able to walk. I don't chase runners. Not tonight."
Without warning, he loosed another arrow—then another movement triggered a technique.
The single arrow split in mid-flight.
Then again.
And again.
In seconds, the air was filled with a storm of arrows—over a hundred of them—raining down on Juxo like a metal downpour.
Juxo's grin split wide, his shark-like teeth glinting.
"Ohhh, now we're talking."
He raised his massive sword and swung.
SHOOOOOOM—!!
A tidal surge of glimmering, crystalline water burst out from the blade, taking the shape of a massive shark made of liquid light. The watery beast roared silently as it slammed through the incoming arrows, shredding and drowning them in a violent wave that scattered fragments across the deck.
Hikaru's eyes widened.
"…What the hell was that?"
Juxo threw his head back and cackled, licking his teeth in feral delight.
"And here I thought you were supposed to be the smart one!"
He swung his blade again—faster this time.
The water from before reformed—this time into dozens of glittering needles that twisted and took shape midair. Each one warped into miniature sharks, their jaws snapping as they launched toward Hikaru like guided bullets.
Hikaru dashed sideways, trying to evade—but there were too many.
SHNK! SHNK! SHNK!
The mini-sharks tore into him, cutting across his arms, legs, and sides. Each impact left gashes and bruises, blood staining his clothes.
"Tch—!"
He skidded back, breath sharp, barely keeping his footing—
And then—
Juxo was gone from sight.
A whisper of air behind him.
"Hey buddy—watch your back!"
WHAM—!!
The longblade crashed into Hikaru's spine with a brutal strike. Pain ripped through him as he flew forward, crashing onto the deck.