The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a bedside lamp. The low rumble of the ship's engines vibrated faintly through the floor, steady and distant.
Shoto lay on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Not asleep. Not resting.
Just… thinking.
Resolve.
The word gnawed at the back of his skull like a hungry crow, pecking each time he tried to breathe.
Across the room, Yumiko slept curled up in a chair, Shoto's blanket draped across her shoulders. Her head tilted against the wall, lips parted slightly in exhaustion. Neko was sprawled across Shoto's legs in his cat form, tail flicking with each soft snore.
For a moment, the world was still.
Then—
Click.
The door slid open.
Shoto jolted halfway up with a wince, pain flaring down his ribs.
Hikaru stepped in first.
His shirt was ripped, his coat singed at the shoulders, and a streak of dried blood cut across his brow. He didn't say a word—he just trudged over and dropped onto the bed beside Shoto with a dull thud.
Yuumo followed.
Bandages wrapped around her midsection, arm, and neck. Her legs trembled beneath her as she slid down to sit by the wall next to Yumiko, shivering as if her bones remembered the strike that dropped her.
Shoto's voice broke quietly.
"H-Hikaru…"
Hikaru didn't look at him. He lay on his side, eyes half-lidded.
"When are we getting off this damn boat."
Shoto glanced away, fingers curling on the sheets. "Maybe in a few hours… Where's Ren and Ryuji? And where the hell is Hina and Tetsuya..?"
Hikaru slowly turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling.
"Ren and Ryuji are still on the upper deck. Tetsuya's doing whatever. And God knows where Hina is." His tone was flat—then sharpened just enough to cut. "Some leader you are."
Shoto's jaw clenched. "I'm trying t—"
"I know," Hikaru interrupted, eyes closing. His voice lost some of its edge, replaced with something duller. Tired. "Just… try harder tomorrow or something."
Shoto stared at him for a long moment, then laid back down.
"Yeah… I will."
Morning.
The cruise ship docked back in their hometown. The sky was clouded, gulls circling above the port as passengers disembarked one by one. Most of the group had already gotten off.
Only Shoto and Neko remained near the ramp.
Shoto slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking without a word.
Neko hopped down beside him, shifting back into his humanoid cat form as he kept pace.
"Where are you going?"
Shoto didn't look at him.
"Back to the junkyard. I only got two days left anyway."
Neko stopped walking, his tail swaying as something sly crept into his grin.
"Well… since you said that," he purred, "I guess I can teach you one technique."
Shoto paused, finally glancing back with a confused frown.
Meanwhile —
The school grounds were still under repair, metal scaffolding and construction tape stretched across the outer buildings. In the ruined gym—where Tetsuya once clashed with Ezekiel—the next group had gathered.
Hikaru stood against the shattered wall, arms crossed. Ryuji leaned against the broken bleachers. Ren stood in the center of the wrecked court, silent and focused. Tetsuya lounged by the uneven stage steps, and Hina paced in small anxious circles.
"So what are we gonna do..?" Hina asked quietly, eyes flicking between them.
Tetsuya chuckled, brushing his fingers through his white hair.
"If you guys don't wanna keep this fight nonsense going, I can take care of the rest."
Ren didn't even blink.
"No. It's fine. I'll handle whoever's next."
Hikaru adjusted his glasses with a tired scoff. Ryuji grinned wide, slamming his fist into his palm.
"Alright, Ren! You better show 'em how it's done!!"
Tetsuya scoffed under his breath. He pushed himself up, walked to his bag, and pulled out the Wind Sword with a casual familiarity before sliding it back into its sheath. As he passed Hina, he placed a hand gently on her shoulder.
She tensed—but he just smirked and walked past.
"If that's what you guys want… sure."
Hina looked back at them once more, eyes shifting between Ren and Hikaru.
"S-Shoto's at the junkyard so… I'm going over there. Just to practice."
Hikaru gave a slow nod.
Ren didn't look at anyone.
And above them—unseen—a new storm was already on its way.
The sky was a deep indigo, the stadium lights flickering weakly across the empty school track. The wind carried a faint chill, rustling through the torn banner that still hung over the field from last semester's sports festival.
Ren stood alone at the starting line.
Hands in his jacket pockets. Head lowered. Eyes sharp.
Waiting.
Up in the bleachers, Hikaru sat with arms crossed, legs kicked out casually—but his gaze was unblinking. Ryuji sat next to him, leaning forward like an eager kid at a wrestling match.
"Think he's nervous?" Ryuji muttered.
Hikaru didn't look away. "If he was, he wouldn't be here."
Clank—clank—clank—
Metal footsteps echoed from the entrance tunnel.
A silhouette emerged.
Then a voice.
"Heh… Ren Tashiki!"
The figure stepped into the light.
Kuro.
Ren's longtime rival from the track team.
But… wrong.
His skin was paler. His eyes darker. Thick black veins crawled across his neck and arms, pulsing like something alive beneath the flesh. His grin was stretched too wide — like his face was being held in that expression.
"Kuro the Great has arrived!" he howled, arms spread wide. "And your winning streak ends TODAY! I will CRUSH YOU—AND THIS TIME IT'S FOR GOOD!"
Ryuji flinched. "The hell is wrong with him?!"
Hikaru's glasses flashed. "He's enhanced. But… not like Tetsuya. This is unstable."
Ren didn't move.
He just let out a soft exhale.
"Great… Hi—"
Before he could even finish greeting him, thunderous clanking cut between them.
A tall mechanical butler, bronze-plated with a digital monocle, stomped right between the two competitors.
Its head swiveled dramatically left and right.
"STATE YOUR NAMES FOR DUEL REGISTRATION!"
Kuro snarled. "Kuro!"
Ren placed his hand in his pocket casually. "Ren Tashiki."
The robot paused — as if processing.
"REGISTRATION COMPLETE."
Then it saluted with theatrical finesse… and sprinted off into the distance at top speed.
Both Ren and Kuro blinked.
"…What the hell was that?" Ryuji whispered.
Hikaru didn't answer.
Because Kuro was already moving.
BOOM
Kuro vanished from sight—
—and reappeared directly in front of Ren.
His fist, wrapped in pulsing black veins, slammed into Ren's stomach.
Ren's breath exploded from his chest as he skidded back, boots scraping across the track.
He barely had time to regain footing before—
CRACK!
Kuro snapped forward, kicking Ren across the face with inhuman force. The crack echoed across the field as Ren spun and dropped to one knee, wiping blood from his lip.
Kuro's grin widened.
"COME ON, CHAMPION! RUN WITH ME!!"
Ren slowly stood up.
Rolled his neck.
And looked directly into those frenzied, possessed eyes.
"…Fine."
His sneaker pressed against the track.
"Let's see if you can keep up."