Losing control of his consciousness was convenient—but doing it too often gave him a splitting headache.
And right now wasn't exactly an emergency. Shiraki Sho had more than enough time to sort through the memories in his head.
His sister, Sakurai Arisa, had gone home with two classmates
Matsumoto Kozue and Go Karura.
…
The first, Kozue, wore her hair in a ponytail that curled slightly at the ends—a gentle, girl-next-door image. She was the heroine of the Baki world, Hanma Baki's girlfriend.
He couldn't help but wonder: at this point in time, had the two already confessed their feelings to each other?
…
The second girl had a much more distinctive look—long, straight black hair, a toned and balanced physique, and an energy that set her apart from ordinary people.
Her eyes, especially, were striking—not only sharp, but inverted in color: black sclera and white pupils.
She was the great-granddaughter of the Wu Clan's leader from Kengan Ashura, a family specializing in assassination. A prodigy among her peers, she possessed combat prowess rivaling professional killers.
…
Even assassins had to go to school.
Combining what he'd recalled, Shiraki Sho soon understood the situation.
After all, his sister attended Ousakura Girls' Academy—and that academy's "monsters" weren't limited to Karura alone.
Years ago, their grandfather had sold nearly everything he owned just to save up tuition for Arisa's high school and college education.
But after taking out high-interest loans, Arisa had once thought of using that tuition money to pay off the debt—only to realize, far too late, that it was nothing but a drop in the bucket.
Though she never showed it around her ailing brother, her spirits had visibly dimmed at school. Her two close friends, Kozue and Karura, had noticed—hence today's visit to the dessert shop, to cheer her up.
"Excuse us!"
Karura waved toward Shiraki Sho, while Kozue smiled politely and nodded.
Arisa had already told them about her brother's illness, and both had expressed concern.
But upon seeing Shiraki Sho in person, the two seemed… surprised.
Or rather
Karura narrowed her eyes.
Coming from a martial family, she could perceive far more than most.
This man—Shiraki Sho—should've been suffering from a chronic illness. Yet his spirit and vitality were overwhelming, on par with professional athletes—or even assassins of the Wu Clan.
The only sign of his sickness was his posture.
For masters, their body's centerline—their axis of balance—was always straight and stable.
But Shiraki Sho's was not. It wavered slightly, betraying the stiffness of someone long confined to rest, unused to physical strain.
"Arisa's brother… seems more interesting than I expected."
"Huh?"
Karura turned her gaze to Kozue, whose expression hadn't changed in the slightest—something that genuinely surprised her.
Shiraki Sho's looks and build were both well above average. Even if a normal girl wasn't interested, she'd at least be impressed.
Yet Kozue's face showed only calm familiarity.
"Kozue?" Karura tilted her head, hearing the girl mutter softly:
"People like them… they're all chasing 'strength' with everything they have."
Kozue glanced at Shiraki Sho and sighed helplessly. "Just like the guy renting a room at my place—he runs before dawn, trains until late, comes back drenched in sweat, sometimes even covered in injuries."
"Before, Baki told me—he wants to become the strongest man on earth."
"But Mom always says: that kind of obsession will get him killed."
"…"
With a resigned smile, Kozue bowed and took her leave, disappearing into the twilight street.
As for Karura, she pulled out her phone and checked the screen. "Ah, sorry—I might need to stay a bit longer. I told my sister to pick me up here, but she's running late."
Shiraki Sho and Arisa naturally didn't mind.
While he went to fetch a chair for Karura, Arisa suddenly noticed something—her brother's hand wasn't trembling anymore.
"Huh? Onii-san, are you feeling better?"
She blinked at the sweat stains on his shirt. "Wait—you were exercising?!"
"Mm. Just moved around a bit."
Shiraki Sho tapped the bandage on his head and explained, "My body feels a lot better today—my mind too. Even the boxing trauma seems to be improving."
"This is…"
Arisa was speechless.
She remembered running through a dozen hospitals across Tokyo, only to hear the same verdict every time: no effective treatment for chronic brain damage.
And yet—here he was, recovering before her eyes.
Overwhelmed, she finally managed, "But… how?"
"Perhaps it's just the human body," Karura interjected thoughtfully. "It's capable of extraordinary things. My family, for instance—we've spent generations integrating the 'seeds' and 'techniques' of martial masters, pushing past the brain's limits to unlock greater power."
"In your brother's case, it might be accidental—some external trigger activating his body's recovery mechanisms. Like… a recent head injury, perhaps?"
As she spoke, both she and Arisa looked toward the bandage on Shiraki Sho's head—finding the explanation that made the most sense.
Arisa's face brightened. "So this is what people mean by 'a blessing in disguise,' huh?"
Shiraki Sho chuckled. "Maybe so."
She reached out toward his head. "Then let me touch it!"
Karura quickly stopped her. "…Probably not a good idea. It'll still hurt."
"…"
Vrrrm—vrrrm!
A low rumble echoed down the street. A sleek motorcycle roared into view.
It wasn't just the bike's model that drew attention
It was the rider: a short-haired girl with a powerful, well-toned body clad in a black sleeveless top and shorts, revealing the faint definition of her abs.
Skrrt!
The bike drifted smoothly to a stop at the open lot's entrance.
She took off her sunglasses, revealing a pair of eyes just like Karura's—black sclera and white pupils.
"Onee-chan!"
Karura waved, then turned to the siblings. "This is my cousin—three years older than me."
"Go Kazemizu."
The girl introduced herself with a casual flick of her sunglasses, giving the siblings a relaxed, confident nod.
At the same time, Kazemizu's gaze swept over Shiraki Sho.
Unlike the all-rounder Karura, Kazemizu specialized in firearms and tracking—meaning her perception of detail was even sharper.
"Height—around 187 cm. Weight—93, maybe 94 kilos. That's some solid data."
"Looks like this was a karate dojo, huh? Closed down? Strange, I've never heard of any experts around here…"
As she mused aloud, Kazemizu suddenly raised her right hand—forming a "finger gun" aimed straight at Shiraki Sho.
It might've looked playful, but from a professional sniper, the gesture carried a very different weight.
"Bang!"
Shiraki Sho didn't react—there was no killing intent.
"Bang!"
Still motionless—because she wasn't aiming at him.
"Bang"
Before the third syllable fully left her lips, Shiraki Sho's body blurred—bending low, his right leg lunging forward, every muscle surging in perfect unison.
Whsssh!
The air itself seemed to twist as he shot forward, leaving a faint afterimage, closing the distance in an instant.
Kazemizu barely managed to react—her white pupils shrinking as a gust of pressure swept over her face.
And through it came Shiraki Sho's heavy breathing.
"Haa… haa…"
Sweat dripped down his forehead—hot from exertion, cold from the killing aura that had flared from Kazemizu a moment earlier.
"Incredible footwork," Kazemizu admitted, then added with a grin, "but your body coordination's still off—you're recovering, right?"
"Save it for the road," Karura scolded as she hopped onto the back seat. "Don't bother them when they're resting!"
She waved to the siblings. "Thanks for the treats—see you at school tomorrow!"
…
…
As the motorcycle turned the corner, Karura leaned close, pouting.
"Testing someone with a 'gunshot' on your first meeting—isn't that rude?"
Kazemizu smirked apologetically. "Couldn't help it. Haven't met anyone that interesting in ages."
Karura frowned. "Why? I hadn't even told you about Arisa's brother yet."
Kazemizu nodded toward the street. "Actually, I saw something on the way here. Look!"
She turned the bike, still circling the neighborhood.
Through the weeds along the fence, right beside the dojo's open lot, lay a training sandbag, its canvas ripped apart, its stuffing scattered everywhere.
Karura examined it and gasped. There was no doubt—the sandbag had been punched clean over the wall from Shiraki Sho's yard.
Barring the absurd notion that Arisa was secretly a master fighter, there was only one explanation—
Shiraki Sho had done it.
"With a technique I've never seen before," Karura murmured, eyes glinting. "It's not pure karate… what style does he practice?"
"No idea," Kazemizu replied, grinning beneath her sunglasses. "But you've got exams coming up, right? I don't have any assassination jobs lined up—leave the investigation to me. I enjoy this kind of 'hobby work.'"
…
…
By the time the Wu sisters were gone, Arisa still hadn't come down from her joy.
Shiraki Sho gently patted her shoulder. "Since it's a special day, I'll cook tonight. What's left in the fridge?"
"Uh… onions, potatoes, carrots."
"Perfect. Curry it is."
He nodded, then glanced at the battered dojo building. "Still got a lot to handle… the match in three days, the Teiai Group's debt, rehab training, dojo repairs, finding a way to make money… Oh, right—need to retrieve that sandbag. Still fixable. That thing's expensive."
Arisa just stood there quietly, watching him.
Since his illness, she hadn't seen this side of her brother—lively, driven, alive.
After muttering to himself a bit longer, Shiraki Sho turned to her, as if there was too much he wanted to say and couldn't fit into words.
"These past years… you've worked hard."
"Mm."
"From now on, take it easy. Go out, make friends, have fun."
"Mm!"
"And don't worry about me anymore."
"…Huh?"
Her final response was half a question, full of disbelief. Shiraki Sho froze, then chuckled—of course she wouldn't believe that. She knew him too well.
Just like Kozue's Baki, Arisa would always worry about him—especially when he was carrying a thirty-million yen debt on his back.
"For example," she said softly, "that 'match in three days'—what's that about, exactly?"
…
…
Three days later, at dusk.
The underground fighting tournament of the Kengan Association was about to begin.
Representatives from the Teiai Group and the Zanchi crime syndicate arrived together by car.