Yami held Renji down on the ground, his knee pressed against Renji's chest, his face full of fury. The smell of sweat, blood, and fear filled the alley.
"Please!" Akane shouted, tears streaming down her face. "Stop! We get it, you won! Are you going to kill him like this?"
Yami slowly turned, his eyes wild.
"Excuse me? You started this." Without hesitation, he landed another brutal punch on Renji's face, who let out a muffled groan.
Akane fell to her knees, crying even harder.
"Please, Yami... I swear... we'll never mess with you again... "
For a moment, Yami froze.
She smiled, relieved, believing he had finally stopped.
But he just stared at her. Cold. Ruthless.
"Did you really think... I wouldn't mess with you... just because you're a girl?"
Before she could react, Yami kicked her stomach. Akane fell to the ground, coughing.
"I'm not like you. I don't play with threats. I keep my word."
Time seemed frozen in the alley. Twenty minutes passed. Three bodies lay still. Weak groans. Blood dripping on the sidewalk.
Yami, shirt dirty and eyes empty, walked over to Akane, who could barely move.
He crouched beside her and whispered:
"If anyone finds out what happened here... if you or any of them say a single word..."
He lifted her chin with two fingers, locking eyes.
"...I'll come back. And I'll kill you. One by one."
He stood up, turned his back, and disappeared into the night.
---
Night still covered Shizuoka when Yami left the alley, hands stained with dried blood and a vacant gaze.
He walked through deserted streets, avoiding street lamps, curious glances, and distant motorcycle sounds. No one noticed him — and he preferred it that way.
After nearly half an hour, he reached the place where he lived.
Under a forgotten bridge, between concrete and shadows, there was only an old mattress, a torn backpack, and a dirt-stained blanket — everything he owned.
He took off his dirty shirt and threw it beside the backpack. He went to the nearby river, where the cold water cut his skin, but he didn't care.
He dipped his face and arms, washing off the blood as if trying to erase not only the wounds but also what he felt.
For a few seconds, he stayed submerged up to his neck, eyes closed.
Silence.
But inside him, everything screamed.
---
Night wrapped Shizuoka like a heavy, suffocating cloak.
Yami walked silently, fists clenched, thoughts far away.
The blood on his hands dried fast, but the taste of violence still lingered in his mouth.
His steps took him to the usual place: a forgotten bridge on the outskirts of town.
Beneath it, an old mattress thrown on the dirt, a worn-out backpack, and a torn blanket — his home.
Without a word, he took off his school uniform, now soaked with sweat, blood, and dirt.
He walked to the small nearby river, crouched, and rubbed the fabric in the cold water, fingers trembling.
He washed hard, as if wanting to erase the whole day.
Then, he laid the uniform on a stone to dry.
He went back under the bridge, curled up under the thin blanket, and lay on his side, back to the world.
The cold stones pressed against his ribs. The wind cut through.
And then, the thought came, cold and lonely:
— It's so cold today...
But he didn't move. Didn't cry.
He just stayed there.
Waiting for the day to break.
Like every night.
---
The sun had barely risen, and the mist still covered Shizuoka.
Yami stretched under the bridge, body aching and mouth dry.
His uniform, laid out on the stone, was still damp, but he put it on anyway.
It was that or nothing.
As he walked to Seiryo School, his stomach churned.
He stopped near an alley, close to a big trash bin behind a bakery.
He looked around, making sure no one was near.
Lifted the lid.
Sour smell. Flies.
He rummaged quickly. Found half a sandwich wrapped in crumpled paper.
Ham, maybe cheese. Hard to tell. Still enough to kill the hunger.
He grabbed it without hesitation and took a bite while continuing to walk.
He chewed slowly. The bread was hard. The taste strange.
But it was food.
On his face... nothing.
No shame. No sadness.
Just silence.
— Another day... — he thought.
And he headed to school, where social hell awaited him.
---
Seiryo's classroom was louder than usual — laughter, loud voices, scraping chairs.
Everything stopped when Yami entered.
Hair still wet, uniform wrinkled, expression unreadable.
In the last row, Renji, Akane, and Kaito sat, covered in bandages, bruises, and tape.
Renji had a black eye. Akane barely moved her neck.
When their eyes met Yami's, the three froze.
Renji lowered his head, Kaito turned his face away.
Akane started trembling, biting her lip to hold back tears.
Yami passed by them without a word.
Went straight to his desk, threw his old backpack on the floor, and sat as if nothing had happened.
Whispers began to spread through the room:
— What happened to them?
— Was it that new kid?
— No way, that nerd is impossible.
Yami looked out the window, cold, distant, untouchable.
The teacher came in. Classes started.
No one dared approach.
---
The bell rang, announcing the end of classes.
Yami was slowly packing his things when he heard a firm voice behind him:
— Yami! Wait!
He turned and saw Kenta, a short boy wearing glasses.
— You have to come with me. Now. Behind the school.
Yami hesitated, but something in Kenta's eyes made him follow.
In the back yard, away from curious eyes, Kenta looked him straight in the eyes.
— Was it you who did that to Renji, Akane, and Kaito?
Before Kenta could say more, Yami, with an angry expression, lunged to punch him.
— Calm down, Yami.
— Did they tell you? — Yami asked, voice low and tense.
— No — Kenta answered, staring firmly. — But when you entered the classroom, they started shaking. Got nervous... And there's your uniform. You can see it was hand washed, barely washed — he pointed to the stains and wear on the fabric. — That means you're poor. And you don't have a mother... Because no mother would let their kid wear a uniform like that. Or maybe I'm wrong — he said with a half smile. — If I am, I'm sorry.
Yami was silent, eyes fixed on the ground.
— Why did you call me here? — he finally asked.
Kenta looked serious.
— Because I want you to join my empire. We're going to take down every school in Shizuoka.
Yami narrowed his eyes, suspicious.
— And why would I do that?
Kenta gave a sly smile.
— Because it makes a lot of money. And from what it seems, you need it... I saw you eating food from the trash, remember?
Yami frowned, annoyed.
— How much money do we make from this?
Kenta crossed his arms confidently:
— Enough so you never have to eat trash again. — Much more than you imagine.
Yami looked away, thoughtful.
— I'll... think about it.
Kenta turned to leave, but stopped and looked over his shoulder:
— See you tomorrow. If you don't show up, I'll take it as a "no." But think hard, Yami. The world doesn't wait for anyone.