(Neo-Tokyo, the night before the District Finals)
Rain had been falling since sunset—slow at first, then steady, tracing silver veins down the glass towers of Neo-Tokyo.
Inside a small gym lit by a single humming light, Kyo Endo wrapped his hands in silence.
Each turn of the tape whispered against his knuckles.
Each pull felt like a memory tightening.
On the bench beside him sat his gloves and a photograph—his mother, smiling beneath hospital lighting, hair tucked behind one ear.
He looked at it once, then turned it face-down.
The door creaked open.
"Still at it?"
Takuro Endo stepped in, towel slung over his shoulder, grin half-hidden behind a protein bar he hadn't even unwrapped.
Kyo didn't look up. "You said intent's everything."
"And you think doing it 'til your bones scream counts as intent?"
"No," Kyo said, flexing his taped fingers. "It's just how I keep the noise out."
Takuro leaned against the doorframe, watching. "Noise is what keeps you human. Kill it too long, and you'll start to look like him."
Kyo's eyes flicked up. "Like who?"
Takuro smiled, soft but sharp. "You'll find out tomorrow."
He turned, hand on the door. "Kid."
"Yeah?"
"Don't fight to prove her right. Fight to remember why she mattered."
The light flickered once as he left, and for a second, Kyo stood alone in the hum of the city, unsure if his father's words were blessing or curse.
–– Cut To: Hoshino High Dorm Rooftop ––
Tomo sat beneath the rain with a towel draped over his head, listening to the vending machines hum below.
He hadn't moved in half an hour.
Downstairs, Jin and Kei argued over cup ramen.
"It's training fuel, bro!"
"It's MSG and despair!"
Rika's voice rang out from somewhere: "Both of you, shut up before I start an official combat match in this hallway!"
Aya leaned against the doorframe, smiling faintly. "You know they look to you for calm, right?"
Tomo didn't answer.
His eyes were half-closed, tracking lightning crawling through the clouds.
Aya sat down beside him. "You're not nervous."
He shrugged. "It's just another fight."
"You don't believe that."
A pause. The wind shifted.
He exhaled. "It's another reason."
"For what?"
"To see if I still care."
Aya studied his face—still, unshaken, almost peaceful.
"You know, you scare people when you talk like that."
He smiled faintly. "Guess I'm doing something right."
Thunder rolled across the city, low and long.
Aya scrolled her phone. "They're calling it the biggest high school match in the district. You versus Kyo Endo—'The Prodigy of Pain' versus 'The Eraser.'"
"Sounds dramatic."
"It is. That's what makes it fun."
He glanced sideways at her. "You coming to watch?"
"I always do."
Something about the way she said it—light, easy—made the air warmer, even under the rain.
–– Cut To: Takuro's Apartment ––
Empty noodle cups stacked on the table. A TV flickered silently with tomorrow's fight preview.
Takuro sat back on the couch, one leg over the other, shadow slicing across his grin.
Kenta stood beside him, tablet in hand.
"You're watching student fights again?"
"Not fights," Takuro said. "Stories."
He pointed at the screen—Tomo Kisaragi, frozen mid-swing.
"See that?"
Kenta squinted. "Form's sloppy."
"Exactly. No ego, no posture. Just truth."
He leaned forward. "If he ever learns what he's fighting for, this city's in trouble."
Kenta frowned. "Shouldn't that worry you?"
Takuro's grin widened. "Worry? I'm praying for it."
–– Cut Back: Rooftop, Later ––
The rain softened to mist.
Jin and Kei had gone quiet, Rika had fallen asleep with her clipboard still in hand, and Aya rested beside Tomo, head on her knees.
He sat there, hood pulled low, watching the streetlights blur.
In the distance, thunder murmured again—softer this time, almost like a heartbeat.
He whispered, more to himself than anyone:
"Tomorrow, I'll see what kind of noise I make."
–– Cut To: Kyo's Room ––
He stood before the mirror, gloves on, hood up, reflection still and quiet.
For a moment, the silence cracked—the faint echo of a man's shout, a memory buried deep.
He pressed his fists together.
"Tomorrow, I'll make him remember me."
The city lights dimmed.
Two storms gathered—one calm, one furious—both waiting for the same bell.
[END OF CHAPTER 11.5 — "The Bell Before the Storm"]