Backstage – Thirty Minutes After the Koga Fight
Steam rose off Tomo's shoulders as he sat on the locker-room bench. The noise from the arena still thumped through the concrete like a heartbeat. Jin was already recording a victory vlog on Kei's phone.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Jin announced, "we came, we saw, we slightly bruised our friend!"
Kei panned the camera toward Tomo. "Bro, give the fans a word."
Tomo didn't look up. "No."
Rika crossed her arms. "Perfect. That's our brand—silence and regret."
Aya dabbed at the scrape on his chin. "It could've been worse."
Jin grinned. "Yeah, imagine if he actually tried."
The locker-room door burst open with a gust of camera flashes. A boy in a white tracksuit and silver headphones strode in, flanked by a small entourage. His sneakers glowed blue with LED strips. He had the kind of grin that made teachers sigh and girls whisper.
"Kisaragi!" he shouted. "Don't cool off yet, man. You're up again."
Rika stepped forward. "Who authorized—"
He flipped his hood down. "Name's Kaito Arimura, Saitama High. They call me The Storm." He tossed a card—his digital tag flickered: #FastestHandsEastWard. "Crowd wants one more before lunch. You in?"
Tomo blinked. "Lunch sounds better."
Kaito laughed. "Thought so. Guess the legend's tired already."
Kei whispered, "He's baiting him, bro."
Jin whispered louder, "Take the bait! I want views!"
Aya sighed. "Tomo, you don't have to—"
"I know." Tomo stood, rolled his shoulders. "But if I don't, he'll keep talking."
Kaito's grin widened. "Attaboy. Let's give them a storm."
The Arena
The crowd hadn't even sat back down. When the announcer's voice returned, the place detonated.
"SURPRISE BOUT! KAITO 'THE STORM' ARIMURA vs TOMO 'THE ERASER' KISARAGI!"
Students pounded railings. Drones spiraled above the ring, lights flaring like lightning.
Kei yelled over the noise, "We're trending on five different apps!"
Rika muttered, "Wonderful. A live-streamed lawsuit."
Aya met Tomo's eyes through the ropes. "Just… don't break him."
He nodded once.
Round One
Bell.
Kaito exploded forward—no setup, just a blur of limbs and air pressure.
Three jabs, a spin-kick, another jab. Every movement whipped his jacket like a flag.
Tomo slipped the first, bent under the kick, tilted left—barely moving, almost lazy. The crowd screamed each time a punch missed by an inch.
Kaito laughed mid-combo. "You dodge pretty, Eraser! But can you—"
Tomo's counter stopped him mid-sentence: a short left tap to the chest that made him stumble back two steps.
"—what the hell was that?" Kaito wheezed.
"Breathing room," Tomo said.
Rika scribbled in her notebook. "His tempo's off. He's using rhythm feints."
Kei nodded seriously. "Translation: dude's fast."
"Shut up, Kei."
Kaito came again, faster—he was pure chaos now, throwing combos like he wanted to paint the air.
Tomo's eyes followed every twitch, not reacting, just waiting.
Then—impact.
A hook from Kaito clipped his temple.
The sound made everyone flinch.
Aya gasped. "Tomo!"
He didn't fall. Just straightened, eyes darker now. "You done?"
The bell saved Kaito.
Corner Break
Jin shoved a towel at him. "You good?"
Tomo: "He's fast."
Kei: "Then be faster!"
Rika smacked him. "That's not how physics works!"
Aya looked at Tomo's eyes—steady, unreadable. "You're holding back again."
He sipped water. "Trying to stay nice."
"Don't get too nice," she said softly. "He'll kill himself proving something."
Round Two
Kaito opened with a fake handshake, then pivoted into a knee strike.
It connected. Tomo's breath hitched.
Crowd roared. Kaito shouted, "That's for calling me a show-off!"
"I didn't," Tomo said, voice calm. "But now I will."
He exhaled once, shoulders lowering.
Aya felt it before she saw it—his posture changed, weight coiled low, stillness like a loaded spring.
Kaito darted in again, blur of white.
Tomo didn't move.
Then he did.
A single step forward—sound vanished.
The punch landed flat, clean, silent.
No echo. Just air collapsing.
Kaito's body stopped mid-motion, then flew backward three meters, hitting the mat hard enough to rattle the ropes.
The crowd fell dead quiet.
Kei whispered, "Did… did he just delete the sound?"
Rika's pen froze. "That wasn't reflex."
Jin slowly lowered his camera. "That was scary."
Tomo stood over Kaito, breathing even. His glove trembled once, then steadied.
He whispered, "You said you were the storm. I guess I'm the calm after."
Ref counted—
"…Nine… Ten! KO!"
Aftermath
Medics rushed in. Kaito blinked at the ceiling, dazed but alive.
He laughed weakly. "You didn't even look mad, man."
Tomo knelt beside him. "Because I wasn't."
Kaito grinned through a split lip. "Then I'm glad I didn't see you angry."
They bumped fists, silent respect amid chaos.
Backstage
Reporters shouted questions; Rika blocked them with her clipboard like a shield.
Kei whispered, "Bro cracked the floor. Look."
He pointed at a faint spider-web fracture under the ring post.
Jin gulped. "I thought that was camera shake."
Aya stared at Tomo's hand. "You didn't even swing full, did you?"
He shook his head once. "If I did, he wouldn't be talking."
Silence.
Then Kei broke it. "So, ramen?"
Everyone groaned, laughter finally spilling out. Even Tomo smirked.
Rooftop – That Night
Rain brushed the neon skyline. Tomo stood under the overhang, hands in pockets.
Aya joined him, umbrella tilted.
"You scared them today," she said.
"Guess I scared myself too."
She looked at the city lights reflecting in puddles. "You keep saying you don't like fighting."
"I don't."
"Then why keep doing it?"
He hesitated. "Because if I stop, I'll never know what I'm trying to hold back."
Thunder rolled—deep, distant.
Somewhere below, fans still chanted his name: Eraser. Eraser.
Aya shivered. "They think they've seen your full power."
Tomo glanced at his right hand, flexed it slowly.
"Good. Let's keep it that way."
Elsewhere – The Office Above the Mall
The man with the scar replayed the slow-motion feed: the frame where Kaito's body blurred before impact.
He froze it, zoomed in on Tomo's eyes—calm, detached, almost empty.
He smiled faintly. "That wasn't his limit."
Behind him, the shadowed figure asked, "Then what is?"
The man closed the tablet. "When he forgets who he's trying not to hurt."
[END OF CHAPTER 8 — "THE STORM FROM SAITAMA"]