Before Krown, there was Rin Tomiyoka — the first person to look straight through Touya and see something he hadn't yet found in himself.
She was judt a grade ahead of him, yet already a well-known figure around school. Calm. Bright. Unshakable. Rin had this rare ability to walk into a room and shift its energy — not through noise or beauty, but through sincerity. People respected her not because she demanded it, but because she deserved it.
Touya first saw her at a school-wide charity assembly during spring, dragged there by Max who insisted, "You've gotta hear her speak, bro. Trust me — she's different."
Rin walked on stage in a plain white shirt and a long navy skirt. Her black hair was tied low, and her expression was steady. When she spoke, her voice didn't echo with authority — it hummed with clarity.
"My name is Rin Tomiyoka," she began, "and I'm not here to impress you. I'm here because someone has to speak for the battles we don't see."
She talked about quiet pain. Emotional fatigue. The masks people wear to get through the day. And as she wrapped up, she said:
"We don't need to save the whole world. Just not abandon the ones in front of us."
The applause was thunderous.
But Touya didn't clap.
He sat, frozen — like someone had just pulled back a curtain in his chest.
Weeks passed, and Touya didn't expect to ever speak to her. But life had its own rhythm.
It was during an after-school tutoring program where he found himself sitting beside her. He'd signed up reluctantly, more for his record than his heart. Yet when she walked in, everything shifted.
Rin noticed him instantly.
"You're the guy who didn't clap," she said, amused.
Touya looked up. "You noticed?"
"I notice people who really listen," she said, smiling.
And from that moment, a strange kind of connection sparked between them — unspoken, but undeniably present.
They began working side by side — her helping with English, him with Math. They talked during breaks. At first it was casual — school, food, complaints about assignments. But slowly, the layers began to peel. Touya realized how observant she was — not just of him, but of everyone. She noticed who was faking a smile. Who needed encouragement. Who was slipping through the cracks.
Rin wasn't just smart. She was aware.
One day, after walking her halfway home, she said:
"You're different too. You're not loud about it, but I can feel it — you care more than you want to admit."
Touya shrugged. "Maybe."
She stopped and looked him in the eyes.
"You know… if we were born in another life, I think I'd still find you," she said, half-joking.
But he didn't laugh. Instead, he said something that surprised even him.
"Then let's not leave it to fate. Let's be family now."
She blinked. "Family?"
" Twins. You and me. Not by blood — by choice."
She stared at him for a moment — then smiled and nodded.
And just like that, they became siblings, not just siblings, they became twins.
From that day on, everything changed.Rin wasn't just a girl from school anymore. She was his sister. Not by name or legal tie, but by a bond they'd forged with their own words — one of respect, trust, and mutual fire.
They had no rituals, no ceremony. Just a pact
"We fight for each other. We never lie to each other. And no matter what happens — we don't walk away."
The promise settled between them like armor.
They began meeting more — after classes, on weekends, during late study nights. She started calling him "Lil' bro," even though he'd sometimes remind her it was only one month.
"Still counts," she'd grin.
Touya opened up in ways he hadn't with anyone. He told her about his dreams — not just to be great, but unforgettable. She never laughed. Never once doubted him.
But as they grew closer, he also noticed something strange.
There were days Rin would wince without reason. Times she looked exhausted even after rest. She brushed it off at first. "Just stress," she'd say. "Don't overthink it."
But Touya watched carefully.
He noticed the trembling fingers. The breath she sometimes held. And one day, he followed her quietly after tutoring — and found her sitting alone behind the old gym, face pale, hands clenched.
When he called her name, she didn't turn.
Just whispered, "I was going to tell you soon…"
Rin finally turned to him, eyes tired but steady. She held out a crumpled envelope, already opened, and handed it to him without a word.
Touya took it. Inside was a printed diagnosis form.
"Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia – Stage 1."
Mild. Treatable. But real.
He didn't speak right away. Didn't know what to say.
"You're angry?" she asked quietly.
"No," he said. "I'm… hurting."
"For me?"
"For us," he said.
She looked away. "I didn't want to be someone you worried about. I wanted to be someone who made you stronger."
"You are making me stronger," he said firmly. "But don't ever think I'd rather not know."
She nodded slowly.
"It's early," she said. "I'm on meds. It's manageable. But I didn't want pity. I wanted… to live without a clock ticking over me."
Touya clenched his fists. "Then let's smash the clock."
She blinked. "Huh?"
"You said we're family, right? You're my twin sis now. That means your fight is my fight."
Rin's eyes watered. "You idiot."
"Yeah. Your idiot."
That day, they made a new pact — unspoken, but undeniable:
He would get stronger. Not just in body or mind, but in will — strong enough to stand against anything, even disease.
The knowledge of Rin's condition didn't weaken their bond. It deepened it.
They still laughed. Still teased each other. But something had shifted beneath the surface.
Touya began researching leukemia at night. He read medical articles. Watched documentaries. Not to become a doctor — but to understand. To prepare.
He also pushed himself harder. Waking earlier. Running longer. Lifting heavier. Studying deeper. He wanted to become a man who could protect not just people, but legacies — someone who could stand against the invisible battles.
"You training for the Olympics?" Max once joked.
"Nah," Touya said. "For life."
Rin noticed the change in him. She didn't say much, but when he showed up with bruised knuckles or tired eyes, she simply handed him water and sat beside him.
No lectures. Just presence.
And one night, under the stars, she said, "You know… you're becoming kind of scary."
He chuckled. "Scary how?"
"Scary in the way people who can't be broken are scary."
He paused. "That's the goal."
"No," she said. "The goal is to live. Don't forget that."
He nodded, filing her words deep inside.
On the day of her transfer to a treatment program in another city, Rin met Touya at the quiet park where they often trained together. She wore a hoodie, her hair tied up, and held something small in her hand.
"I made this last night," she said, holding out a woven black bracelet.
Touya took it. "What is it?"
"Thread from one of my old uniforms," she said. "Thought it'd protect you."
He slid it onto his wrist without hesitation. "Now I'm invincible."
She smiled but didn't laugh. "I don't know how long I'll be gone. A few months, maybe more."
"Just call," he said. "I'll answer. Every time."
She looked up at him then — really looked.
"You know, people always assume family is blood. But if I could choose a brother in every lifetime…"
"You'd still pick me?" he asked.
She nodded. "Every time."
He didn't say anything for a moment.
Then: "I'll keep training. Keep building. And when I'm strong enough… I'll fight even the things you can't."
They hugged — tightly, silently.
And then she was gone.
Two days later, he found an envelope slipped into the notebook he always used during tutoring.
It was from Rin.
The handwriting was neat. Familiar. Calm.
"Touya — My Twin brother. You always said you wanted to leave a mark on the world. I think you already have — on me. But don't stop there.
You're going to change everything. You have a fire in you that doesn't just burn — it spreads.
Just remember… you don't have to win every battle. You just have to stay standing.
And when you forget who you are, remember who we are
Twins. Always.
Fight not to be remembered — but to give others a reason to live.
- Rin"
He kept the letter in his wallet, folded with care.
Every word was a spark.
Back in the present, Touya stood before the massive tech exhibit in Brazil — *Krown's* first real stage. The Crown Phone launch was set to draw thousands. The OS, the AI, the camera — all revolutionary.
But for him, it wasn't about business.
It was about her.
About that promise.
A message pinged his phone.
Rin: "Still fighting. Still your big sister. Still believe in you."
He smiled quietly. Looked up.
"You'll see, Sis," he whispered. "I'm not just going to be remembered. I'm going to rewrite what it means to fight."
That night, alone in his hotel room, Touya stood at the window, Lights from the World Cup events flickered in the distance. Noise from parties and media buzzed below.
But in his mind — silence.
Just her voice, her smile, her note.
He touched the bracelet still tied to his wrist — worn now, faded — but unbroken.
Just like her.
Just like him.
Diamonds may crack…
But they never break.
He turned to his reflection in the glass.
"My name is Kojiro Touya," he said softly. "And I'm going to change the world… for my sister. My diamond."