His mind echoed "My hands... they're steady. No more trembling. The fear... it's gone."
Takumi stood tall, eyes locked on the gang.
"What is this...? This feeling... Is this the strength to protect someone you love?"
"Oi! Who the hell are you supposed to be?" one of the gang members barked, stepping forward.
"Wanna play hero, huh?"
Three of them pulled machetes from beneath their shirts, blades gleaming under the streetlight.
"If he wants to play the hero, then let's give him a show!" another laughed, the rest joining in with cruel amusement.
A bat came swinging toward Takumi's head—he ducked, grabbed the man's wrist, and slammed a fist straight into his jaw, sending him staggering back.
"Oi Kirishima you weakling, stand! Go take Yuki-chan! and drive—now!" Takumi shouted without looking back.
"They're after your car. I'll hold them off. Don't worry... I'm strong, stronger than you!"
Another thug charged with a metal pipe. Takumi sidestepped, caught the attacker's arm, and kneed him in the gut before sending him flying with a kick.
"GO!, you dumbass, Kirishima!" he barked again.
Arisuke, battered and bloodied, grabbed Yuki's trembling hand and dragged her toward the car.
They climbed in, the engine roared, and the car peeled away, speeding down the street.
The robber leader narrowed his eyes.
"Tch... he's good at fighting. All of you, hit him at once!"
The six remaining men rushed Takumi together—blades, pipes, and fists swinging wildly.
Far ahead, inside the fleeing car, Yuki twisted in her seat, tears filling her eyes.
"Wait! Ari-chan—we can't just leave Takumi-chan like that!"
"We have to!" Arisuke snapped, coughing through blood.
"Did you see what they did to me!? Open your damn eyes!"
He gritted his teeth, hands tight on the steering wheel.
"Don't worry about that guy—he's no one. I'm your boyfriend, Yuki. Me. You should be worrying about me!"
Yuki turned to the rear window. Takumi was still there—surrounded, outnumbered—fighting like a man possessed.
"Takumi-chan..." she whispered, voice breaking.
Her tears fell freely now, hands clenched on her lap.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Takumi-chan..."
"Ari-chan, let me call your parents' hired police!" Yuki pleaded, her voice trembling.
"We can't, Yuki-chan!" Arisuke barked, his tone sharp. "I told you—stop worrying about him! He's nobody!"
Yuki's eyes widened, her voice rising in frustration.
"Then I'll call the police myself! Ari-chan, I... I hate you!"
Without waiting for a response, she pulled out her phone, tears brimming in her eyes.
"Hello? Police—please! There's a robbery in progress! Seven armed men—please come quickly! It's near the bridge by the Azabu district!"
Her hands shook as she gave the location. Even if Arisuke wouldn't help, she couldn't abandon Takumi.
Meanwhile, the fight raged on.
Takumi ducked a swing from a steel pipe, pivoted, and countered with a sharp strike to the attacker's jaw.
Six men circled him, their weapons flashing—pipes, machetes, baseball bats. Each swing came fast, but Takumi was faster.
"This feeling... if fear doesn't exist in me anymore, I can win!" he thought, his movements crisp, sharp.
"Mira-san... thank you. Training with you gave me the strength to protect the one I love."
He danced between their strikes, dodging with instinctive precision.
"Wait—weren't there seven of them?!"
In that moment, a shadow shifted behind him.
The seventh man—the one Takumi had kicked earlier—was back on his feet, silently creeping into position. From Takumi's blind spot, he swung a steel pipe with full force.
CRACK!
The steel pipe slammed into the back of Takumi's head. His vision blurred, stars bursting behind his eyes. His knees buckled, and he staggered, nearly collapsing—but he caught himself, teeth clenched, breath ragged.
Far unknown, in a grand temple loomed in stillness, its vast halls adorned with ancient dragon carvings etched deep into stone.
One by one, the flames had been kindled. With a flick of it's hand, the figure lit the last of them—the thousandth candle sputtered to life, casting its golden glow into the dark.
At the center stood a dragon-like being—ancient, regal, and fearsome. It stood tall on two legs, draped in flowing robes that shimmered faintly in the candlelight. Arms raised toward the heavens, its eyes blazed with an fire from thousand candles.
"The promised time has come... The Golden Age begins!"
The blow to the back of his head nearly brought Takumi to his knees. His vision blurred as his glasses flew off from the impact, clattering onto the ground.
In that split second of disorientation, Mira's voice echoed in his mind—sharp, fierce, unforgettable:
"I will never let you die!"
A heavy boot crushed his fallen glasses, snapping them beneath its weight.
"I admit it, you're fast, be able to dodge us like that, I'll give you that," one of the thugs sneered.
"But you're still just a regular guy. You don't have the stamina to keep up with all of us. This ain't some manga or anime, hero-boy!"
Another laughed, waving a bat over his shoulder. "He really thought he could play the hero... what a joke!"
Their laughter rang out cruelly, surrounding him.
Takumi's vision remained fuzzy—seven armed men loomed before him, weapons drawn, grins wide.
"Is this... the end?"
His thoughts drifted inward as his knees trembled.
"Is this how it ends? Maybe… maybe God really did grant my wish—to die a hero. To die protecting Yuki-chan. If that's my fate… then maybe it's not such a bad end. I have no regrets."
"Mira-san… thank you. For training me. For caring about me. For everything. I guess this is where my story ends—giving my life for someone who still has hope. For the girl I love… Yuki Hanazawa."
He took a deep breath. His body swayed—then stilled. His spine straightened. His fists clenched. Blood trickled down the side of his face, but his grin only widened.
"Come on, you bastards."
Takumi lifted his head. His blurred eyes sharpened with sheer will. His smile turned wild, teeth bared in defiance.
"Let's dance!."
His decision was final, all doubt had faded.
Takumi steadied his stance, a wild grin spreading across his face. Then he charged.
The guy with the baseball bat swung first. Takumi ducked, grabbed his arm mid-swing, twisted it, and ripped the bat away before slamming a kick into his gut. Another rushed him with a metal pipe—Takumi raised his right arm and blocked it with a solid thud.
A sudden pain tore through his back. A machete sliced across his shoulder. Another followed—this one stabbed into his lower back. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he gritted his teeth.
But he didn't stop.
Takumi drove his knee into the gut of the first attacker, knocking him down and fully disarming him. His right forearm absorbed another blow from the pipe wielder. With a sharp twist, he locked the pipe under his arm, spun his body, and smashed an elbow into the guy's temple.
The man crumpled.
Without pause, Takumi bent low, reached back, and yanked the machete from his flesh with a snarl. Blood poured down his back, but he didn't flinch.
Now holding the machete, he wiped the blood from his lips and growled,
"BRING IT ON!"
Another attacker came at him head-on, slashing with a machete—Takumi parried the blow with his own. A second baseball bat came swinging for his head—he ducked, but it clipped his shoulder. The metal pipe smashed into his back.
"Does he not feel pain?" one of them murmured, eyes wide at Takumi's brutal resilience.
He locked blades again. With a flick, Takumi reversed his grip on the machete and slammed the pommel into his opponent's forehead. The man staggered. Takumi went to behind him and drove his head into the back of his skull with a slash of Takumi's machete.
"No—Jiro!!" one of them screamed as Takumi slashed down, ending him.
Enraged, the rest of them rushed. Blunt weapons hammered into Takumi from every direction. One of them grabbed a machete dropped by a fallen ally.
"You're gonna die here!," one shouted.
But Takumi only laughed—bloodied, eyes glowing with adrenaline, a mad grin stretched across his face.
"DANCE WITH ME MORE!!" he roared, as the frenzy took over.
Takumi charged the four in front of him, swinging his machete wildly.
They blocked with baseball bats and metal pipes, holding him off—until he abruptly switched the machete to his left hand and slashed across a metal pipe wielder's throat, blood spraying into the air.
Three more lunged at him, weapons raised. Takumi blocked with his machete, but behind him, two others moved in. One brought a machete down hard, striking the back of Takumi's head.
Dazed but still moving, Takumi ducked low and spun, his body rotating with a savage grace. The spin severed the attacker's hand, sending it flying, and Takumi didn't hesitate—he drove his blade deep into the man's chest.
"Knock him out—hit the head!" someone screamed.
Three attackers now swarmed behind him, and in perfect sync, they slammed their weapons into Takumi's skull.
He collapsed forward but rolled with the momentum.
One of them picked up a dropped machete and rushed toward him mid-roll, aiming a finishing blow at Takumi's head. Takumi raised his left arm to block—the machete embedded itself deep into his forearm, nearly severing it.
Through sheer will, Takumi stood. Blood poured from the wound, but he gripped his machete tight and slashed diagonally across his attacker's chest, then again in the opposite direction, forming a brutal X-shaped cut that dropped him instantly.
"Whoaaa—!"
"We'll kill you here!"
"No!! Shinji!!"
With his left arm hanging by flesh, Takumi switched to fighting one-handed, holding the machete in a reverse grip to deflect incoming strikes.
Now it was down to three men—one with a machete, one with a pipe, and one with a bat.
Despite his bloodied state, Takumi's face twisted into a manic grin.
"HAHAHAHA! COME ON, YOU BASTARDS!" he roared, drunk on adrenaline.
The three paused. His body was shredded—his left hand almost severed, his head slashed open, and blunt wounds swelling across his frame. And still, he laughed?
"Is this guy insane?" the bat wielder whispered.
"I don't care—I'm gonna kill him!" the machete guy shouted, charging.
Takumi dodged the slashes, countered with his blade, and spun behind his attacker to slice open his back. But before he could follow up, the bat slammed into his head again, and the pipe struck his wounded arm, making him fall to one knee.
He coughed—hard—blood pouring from his mouth. But instead of weakening, he wiped his lips and laughed even louder.
"HAHAHA!" With fire in his eyes, he charged two of them.
His machete clashed against the bat. He kicked the pipe-wielder in the gut, spun around, and drove the blade into the bat guy's neck from behind.
Enraged, the pipe wielder retaliated, slamming the pipe into Takumi's face. Takumi staggered, the machete still lodged in the man's neck. The enemy yanked it free and slashed across Takumi's head and eye, carving a deep wound.
Takumi screamed and lunged—grabbing the man's arm, punching his face, then grabbing his skull and driving a knee into it. As the man reeled, Takumi snatched back the machete.
But the previous attacker—the one with back slashed—rose again.
He came at Takumi's side.
Takumi blocked with his crippled left arm, and in doing so, his left hand was finally severed.
Roaring in pain, Takumi fought the last standing foe, their machetes clashing violently. Then—an opening.
Takumi swung his severed left left hand, splattering blood across the man's face and blinding him.
Takumi ducked and slashed across both his legs, slicing them clean off.
The last enemy—the one he'd kneed earlier—rose and struck Takumi's back with the bat. Takumi spun and slashed, but the blow was blocked. Without missing a beat, he swept the man's legs, dropping him, then slashed his face and stabbed him through the heart.
"AHHHHH! You're… you're a devil! You're not human! Spare me, please!!" cried the man with severed legs, crawling away.
Takumi stood tall—barely. Machete in his right hand. Left arm gone. Blood streaming from his head.
His body—broken and bruised, stabbed and slashed.
He stared at the crawling man with no emotion. Just a slight, bitter smile.
Then—he stabbed him in the back of the head.
"It's over," Takumi whispered.
A Promise, now fulfilled.
His adrenaline drained. He staggered forward, vision blurring, limping away from their remains.
Then—memories of Yuki Hanazawa appears.
Yuki's voice echoed in his mind.
"Takumi-chan, you're a good guy."
The day he gave her the cat keychain.
"You said you like cats… do you like it?"
"I love it. Thank you, Takumi-chan."
A soft smile crossed his face.
"Since you're smart, can i ask you about college sometimes? Takumi-chan"
"Yeah, you can Yuki-chan"
"So let's swap LINE," she had said. "But I live with Ari-chan… so please don't message me often. I don't want him to misunderstand."
"I understand, Yuki-chan. I won't chat you first, Just ask me if you need anything."
Scene after scene replayed. Her laugh. Her voice. Her smile.
His legs gave out. He sat by the bridge, gazing at the sky.
"So calm… This world—I've never felt peace like this before. I feel… sleepy."
Her image flashed again.
"Bye, Takumi-chan." She had waved to him.
He smiled—soft and sincere.
"Live a long life, Yuki-chan.
Be happy. Be healthy. Keep smiling...
Thank you for giving my life color.
Thank you for smiling at me.
Thank you… for calling my name.
Thank you for everything."
His head bowed gently, a faint smile still resting on his lips.
"Goodbye, Yuki-chan."
In the cold of midnight, leaned against the bridge—
Alone. Bleeding. Smiling.
And finally…
He took one long breath—
—and let it go.
Goodbye… thank you for everything.