Takuma settled into the worn chair across from Daichi, the tension in the room softened by their mutual understanding. The dim light overhead cast long shadows on the walls, like ghosts of their shared past. Takuma couldn’t shake the surreal feeling of the moment—sitting here with someone he’d once considered an enemy, now discussing alliances as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  Daichi leaned back, his arms draped over the edges of his chair, exuding his usual relaxed confidence. But his sharp gaze betrayed the calculating mind at work. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” Daichi began, his tone almost amused. “But if you’re serious about this, you need to know what you’re walking into.”

  Takuma crossed his arms, leaning forward slightly. “I’m listening.”

  “The Organization isn’t just some back-alley gang or a group of thugs playing at power,” Daichi said, his voice carrying an edge of warning. “It’s a machine. A system built to handle the chaos that’s brewing under the surface of this city. We’re not just dealing with Daichi’s schoolyard antics anymore. There are players on the board you can’t even imagine. Cults, underground networks, factions with their own agendas. And if we don’t move fast, they’ll swallow everything whole.”

  Takuma’s brow furrowed. He’d expected something dark, but this was on a level he hadn’t anticipated. “So, what? You want me to follow your orders and play soldier in your war?”

  Daichi smirked, shaking his head. “Not quite. I didn’t bring you in to be a pawn, Takuma. I see potential in you, and I’m not just talking about your fists. You’ve got instincts, leadership qualities. You’ve got the spark that makes people follow you, even when the odds are stacked against you.”

  Takuma blinked, surprised by the unexpected praise. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying you should have your own team,” Daichi said, leaning forward now, his voice low and deliberate. “The Organization is big—bigger than you think. And while I run one of its primary branches, there’s room for someone like you to carve out your own space. A team under your command, dealing with specific issues, following your instincts.”

  Takuma sat back, digesting the offer. His own team? It sounded... absurd. He was still wrapping his head around joining Daichi in the first place. Now he was being handed an opportunity to lead?

  “You don’t even know if I’ll succeed,” Takuma said, his voice tinged with skepticism. “What makes you think I’m ready for something like that?”

  Daichi shrugged, his smirk returning. “You don’t have to be ready. Nobody ever is. But I’ve seen what you’re capable of when your back’s against the wall. And let’s be honest, you’ve already got a knack for drawing people to your cause—Miu, Sam. That’s not coincidence. It’s who you are.”

  Takuma’s mind flashed to Miu’s unwavering support, to Sam’s loyalty despite the danger. He couldn’t deny there was something magnetic about the way people seemed to rally around him, even when he felt lost himself.

  Daichi continued, his voice taking on a conspiratorial edge. “Here’s the deal. I’ll give you resources—people, intel, equipment. You’ll still answer to me, but you’ll have autonomy. You handle the smaller fires while I deal with the big picture. In return, you’ll help me when it counts.”

  “And if I refuse?” Takuma asked, though he already knew his answer.

  Daichi’s eyes glinted, the smirk slipping into something more serious. “Then you’ll still be part of the Organization, but as a grunt. Taking orders, no say in the matter. But let’s be real, Takuma. That’s not who you are. You’re a leader, not a follower.”

  Takuma stared at him, weighing the offer. The idea of leading his own team was daunting, but it also sparked something in him—a sense of purpose, of control in a chaotic world. If he could make a difference, even on a smaller scale, wasn’t it worth the risk?

  He took a deep breath, meeting Daichi’s gaze with resolve. “Alright. I’ll do it. But on one condition.”

  Daichi raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Let’s hear it.”

  “I pick my own people,” Takuma said firmly. “No plants, no spies, no strings attached. If I’m going to do this, I need to know I can trust the people I’m working with.”

  Daichi studied him for a long moment before nodding. “Fair enough. But choose wisely, Takuma. Loyalty’s a tricky thing in this world. Sometimes, the people you trust most are the ones who’ll stab you in the back.”

  Takuma’s jaw tightened, the truth of Daichi’s words settling over him like a shadow. “I’ll take my chances.”

  Daichi stood, extending a hand. “Then it’s settled. Welcome to the Organization, Takuma—Division Leader.”

  Takuma hesitated only for a moment before shaking Daichi’s hand. The alliance was uneasy, built on a foundation of history and mutual necessity, but it was a start. And as Takuma left the room that night, his mind was already racing with plans, strategies, and the faces of the people he might call upon to join his team.

  The road ahead was uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, Takuma felt a sense of direction. If he was going to step into this world, he would do it on his own terms.

  Daichi leaned back in his chair, swirling the glass of amber liquid he had poured earlier, a rare moment of calm between their intense conversation. The faint hum of the overhead light filled the silence as the two sat across from each other, their bond of mutual understanding quietly solidifying.

  “You know,” Daichi began, his voice lighter than before, “it’s funny how life works out. A few years ago, I thought we’d never cross paths again. And now here we are, strategizing like some kind of master criminals.” He smirked, raising his glass.

  Takuma chuckled faintly, though his thoughts were still miles away. “Yeah, life’s got a weird sense of humor.” He glanced at the table, absentmindedly tracing the grain of the wood with his finger. “Do you ever think about what things would’ve been like if… you know, if we’d stayed out of all this?”

  Daichi’s smirk softened into something closer to a genuine smile. “Sometimes. But the truth is, we were always going to end up here. You and me? We’re the kind of people who get pulled into the current, no matter how hard we fight it. It’s just who we are.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Takuma said quietly, his mind flashing back to simpler times—days when their biggest worry was making it through the school day without drama. He shook his head, pushing the memories aside. “It doesn’t matter now. We’re here, and we’ve got to deal with what’s in front of us.”

  They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a moment, the air between them no longer charged with tension but rather a sense of camaraderie. Takuma leaned back, glancing toward the door, his thoughts shifting to Miu.

  “When we leave this room,” Takuma said suddenly, his tone steady but low, “act like nothing happened. Make up some excuse or something if Miu asks why we were in here for so long. She doesn’t need to know about this… not yet.”

  Daichi raised an eyebrow, his sharp gaze studying Takuma. “You really think she’ll buy that?”

  Takuma exhaled, his eyes darkening slightly. “Maybe, maybe not. But if I’m being honest, I think it’s better if I keep my distance from her for a bit. At least until I figure out how deep this rabbit hole goes.”

  Daichi’s smirk returned, though there was a flicker of understanding behind it. “Protecting her, huh? Noble of you. But you do realize she’s not exactly the type to let you slip away quietly, right?”

  “I know,” Takuma admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. “She’s stubborn as hell. But this isn’t about what she wants—it’s about keeping her safe. If she knew even half of what we just talked about…” He trailed off, his fists clenching briefly before he relaxed them.

  Daichi nodded, his expression unusually serious. “Fair enough. Just don’t underestimate her. People like Miu? They have a way of finding the truth, whether you want them to or not.”

  “I’ll deal with that when the time comes,” Takuma said, standing up and adjusting his jacket. He glanced at Daichi, a flicker of gratitude passing through his eyes. “Thanks, by the way. For… everything tonight.”

  Daichi waved a hand dismissively, his smirk returning in full force. “Don’t mention it. You’ve got your path, and I’ve got mine. Just don’t make me regret giving you this shot, Takuma.”

  “You won’t,” Takuma said firmly, heading for the door. Before he opened it, he glanced back at Daichi one last time. “And remember—act normal. If Miu starts asking questions, you’re on your own.”

  Daichi chuckled, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Consider it done. Now go play the part, Division Leader.”

  Takuma rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile as he stepped out into the hallway. The weight of his new reality pressed against him, but for now, he focused on the role he needed to play. The night was far from over, and the game had only just begun.

  Takuma stepped out of the room with Daichi following closely behind, both slipping effortlessly into the roles they had agreed upon. Takuma’s expression was calm, composed, as though nothing significant had transpired in their private meeting. Daichi, always the smooth talker, was already spinning the story before Miu could voice her suspicions.

  “There you are!” Miu’s voice rang out from the corner of the dimly lit lounge area. Her eyes darted between the two, her brows furrowed slightly. “What took you so long? You’ve been in there forever.”

  Daichi shrugged nonchalantly, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. “Nothing exciting, I promise. I was just updating Takuma on some logistical stuff for tomorrow’s training session. You know, boring administrative crap. Thought it’d be better to get it out of the way now.”

  Miu tilted her head, her suspicion not entirely gone. “Logistics, huh? Since when do you personally handle that?”

  Daichi laughed, a sound so casual it was almost disarming. “Hey, I like to keep my lieutenants informed. What can I say? Micromanaging is my guilty pleasure.” He winked, adding just the right amount of charm to diffuse her doubts.

  Takuma played along, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, he was just going over some plans with me. Trust me, it wasn’t as exciting as you’re imagining.”

  Miu studied them for a moment longer, her gaze lingering on Takuma. There was something in her eyes, a flicker of concern, but she eventually nodded. “Alright. Just don’t forget you promised to spar with me tomorrow morning, Takuma. I’m not letting you back out this time.”

  Takuma offered her a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it. You’ll probably kick my ass anyway.”

  Miu smirked, her competitive spirit reigniting. “You bet I will. Don’t underestimate me.”

  As the three of them moved into the larger room, the tension from earlier began to dissipate, at least on the surface. Takuma kept his distance from Miu, careful not to linger too close or engage in too much conversation. He could feel her eyes on him occasionally, but he brushed it off, focusing on blending into the group dynamic.

  Daichi, true to form, shifted the atmosphere effortlessly. He cracked a few jokes, brought up a lighthearted story from his own training days, and had everyone chuckling within minutes. Even Miu seemed to relax, her earlier unease fading into the background.

  But beneath the surface, Takuma’s mind churned with the weight of their earlier discussion. Every laugh felt hollow, every smile a mask he had to wear. He glanced at Miu from the corner of his eye, guilt stabbing at his chest like a dagger.

  “I’m doing this for you,” he thought silently. “Even if you don’t understand it yet.”

  As the evening wore on, Takuma excused himself early, claiming he needed rest for the sparring session tomorrow. Miu gave him a questioning look but didn’t press further. Daichi watched him go with an unreadable expression, his fingers tapping idly against the edge of the table.

  The night outside was quiet as Takuma stepped into the crisp air, his breath visible in the cold. The weight of his choices pressed heavily on his shoulders, but he pushed it aside. There was no turning back now. All he could do was move forward and hope that, in the end, his decisions would protect the people he cared about.

  “Tomorrow’s a new day,” he muttered to himself, the words carrying both hope and dread. “And I’ll be ready for whatever it brings.”

  Later that night, Daichi sat in a sleek, dimly lit room, the air heavy with tension and quiet conversation. Around him, the senior members of the organization sat in their usual formation—hands clasped in front of them, gazes calculating and sharp, their every word laced with careful precision. The table was glossy, black, reflecting the subtle gleam of the overhead light as if it, too, was waiting for something important to be said.

  “Daichi,” one of the older members, a tall man with a gruff voice, spoke up, his voice breaking the quiet hum in the room. “Your progress with Takuma has been impressive. You’ve managed to get him this far. I’ve heard you’ve even begun considering him for a higher role.” He leaned forward slightly, his tone almost condescending. “Quite the ambitious decision for someone so young.”

  Another member, a woman with short silver hair and a sharp gaze, raised an eyebrow. “I agree. It’s rare for someone to rise so quickly through our ranks. But your faith in him is well-noted. You’ve proven your ability to spot talent, Daichi. We’re all curious to see if this proves to be a smart move.”

  Daichi allowed the praise to roll over him, his expression impassive, his thoughts focused. The conversations about Takuma weren’t new. They had been talking about him for days now, whispering behind closed doors about his potential, his intelligence, and his raw talent that was starting to come to the surface. But what they didn’t know—the part Daichi wasn’t ready to reveal—was that his connection to Takuma wasn’t just professional. It was personal.

  “I don’t just see potential in him,” Daichi finally spoke, his voice smooth and calm, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper in his words. “I see promise—something far beyond what I initially expected.”

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  The room went silent. The other members exchanged glances, a mix of curiosity and skepticism in their eyes. Daichi's words held weight, and it wasn’t lost on them that his opinion carried influence in their decisions. They leaned in, waiting for more.

  “Takuma’s abilities go beyond mere tactics or strength. He has something rare,” Daichi continued, his eyes narrowing slightly as he reflected on the young man. “I’ve seen his resilience in the face of adversity, his ability to adapt and make decisions that others would falter at. But more importantly, he has a fire in him. It’s something that’s hard to explain, but I can feel it—his desire to protect what matters.”

  A murmur of interest rippled through the room, but Daichi’s tone remained unwavering.

  “He’s not like the others,” he added quietly, almost as if he were speaking more to himself than to them. “There’s something in him that makes him different. He’s not just another soldier. I’ve seen him grow in a way I didn’t expect.” Daichi’s voice softened, but only slightly. “He reminds me of myself... back when I first started out, before all this.”

  The words were laced with an unfamiliar weight, and the room felt charged with something that wasn’t quite business anymore. For a moment, the others were silent, not quite sure how to respond to Daichi’s admission. His respect for Takuma was evident, and it wasn’t lost on anyone that Daichi’s usual detached persona had cracked just a bit.

  “I think he’s ready to take on a division leader role,” Daichi said firmly, meeting their gazes without flinching. “And I believe he’ll be more than just a leader. He’ll be an asset we’ll need to rely on in the future.”

  The others exchanged glances again, this time with more respect in their eyes. It was clear that Daichi wasn’t just playing at favoritism. His assessment of Takuma was genuine.

  “Well,” the silver-haired woman said, nodding slowly. “If you believe in him, Daichi, then we’ll support your decision. But remember, we’ve all seen how quickly people can burn out when they take on too much. Make sure he’s ready for what’s to come.”

  Daichi’s expression tightened, but only for a moment. “I know what I’m doing,” he replied, his voice carrying the unshakable certainty that had made him a force to be reckoned with in the organization. “I’ve seen how Takuma handles pressure. And when the time comes, he’ll be ready.”

  There was a beat of silence, then another voice spoke up, the leader of the council. He had a low, gravelly tone, and his words held an air of authority that demanded respect.

  “Then, it’s settled,” the leader said, leaning back in his chair. “We’ll consider Takuma’s promotion. But remember, Daichi, if he falters, you’ll be the one to answer for it.”

  Daichi gave a slight nod. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  As the meeting continued with more mundane details, Daichi’s thoughts drifted back to Takuma. He wasn’t sure what it was about the young man that had earned such an attachment from him, but it was there—deep in his chest, like an unspoken bond that had formed between them ever since Daichi had saved him from the bullies all those years ago.

  Daichi respected Takuma in a way that no one else would ever understand. He respected his strength, his resilience, his intelligence. But more than that, he saw in him a part of himself—something that had been lost over the years. It was the reason Daichi had been willing to trust him, to bring him into the fold in ways he had never done for anyone else.

  “I’ll protect you,” Daichi thought, his gaze sharpening. “I’ll make sure you never have to face the darkness alone. Not again.”

  And as the conversation around him carried on, Daichi found himself more certain than ever that Takuma was the key to everything—his future, the organization’s future, and perhaps, even his own salvation from the ever-growing weight of his past.

  Daichi leaned back in his chair, the dim light from the overhead fixtures casting long shadows across his face. The conversation was shifting, veering in a direction that the others hadn’t anticipated. He had made his decision about Takuma, but now it was time to explain why—and what that meant for the future of the organization.

  “As for Takuma’s team,” Daichi began, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something deeper, “he’ll be allowed to choose who he wants to work with. I trust his judgment, and I believe it will strengthen his position as a leader. This isn’t just about giving him the tools to succeed; it’s about letting him build something he believes in.”

  The words hung in the air like an unexpected storm cloud, darkening the mood in the room. Several of the higher-ranking members exchanged confused glances, uncertainty settling in their eyes. They were all used to the rigid structure of the organization—division leaders were assigned their teams based on skill sets and need, not personal preference.

  “Wait a minute,” one of the men interrupted, his brows furrowing. “Are you saying that you’re allowing Takuma to handpick his own team? This isn’t how things are done, Daichi. We can’t just let him have free rein like that.”

  Daichi’s gaze hardened, but his expression remained composed. “I know the protocol. But I trust him. He’s shown me that he’s capable of seeing things from a different perspective. And if he’s going to lead, he needs to have the freedom to shape his own path. Otherwise, what’s the point of promoting him?”

  The room fell silent, and it was clear that not everyone was on board with Daichi’s decision. But there was something in his voice—an unwavering conviction—that made the others hesitate. Daichi had always been one to make bold decisions, but this felt different. There was a deeper understanding between him and Takuma, one that the others in the room could only guess at.

  “We’ll give him this chance,” Daichi added, his tone final, though there was a subtle edge of protectiveness in it. “But remember, I have full faith in his abilities. If you don’t believe in him yet, you will.”

  The conversation shifted again, the tension still lingering in the air, but Daichi’s words had carried weight. He wasn’t asking for approval—he was asserting his authority over the matter. Takuma was his choice, and that was all that needed to be said.

  Meanwhile, just a short while after Takuma had left the house, Miu found herself pacing near the window, a restless energy building in her chest. She had just received Daichi’s abrupt departure, and now she was left alone with her thoughts. The uneasy silence that followed Takuma’s departure had set her on edge. There was something about the way Takuma had acted tonight, the way he had been so calm, so distant, as if there was a secret he wasn’t telling her. And then Daichi…

  Her brow furrowed as she thought back to their conversation earlier. “Why had they been so casual with each other? Why was Daichi so different tonight?”

  Miu had known Takuma for a month now, seen him through every up and down. She knew when something was off, and tonight, everything felt off. Takuma had acted like nothing was wrong—almost too casual, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. But more than that, Daichi had acted strangely, too. He had never been so informal with Takuma, especially not when it came to school. There was always a certain distance between them. A formality, even when they were in the same room. But tonight? It was as if they were on the same wavelength, like old friends—no, like brothers. The casualness between them felt like a veil had been lifted, and Miu couldn’t shake the feeling that something important had changed.

  “They’ve never been like that before,” Miu muttered to herself, her gaze narrowing as she watched the streetlights flicker outside. “Daichi has always been so… distant with Takuma. I never thought they’d have this kind of relationship.” She exhaled a sharp breath, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "But why now? What happened?"

  She couldn’t deny the nagging feeling in her gut. Had Takuma been hiding something from her? Had Daichi been influencing him in ways she didn’t understand?

  Her heart clenched slightly at the thought. She had always trusted Takuma—his strength, his judgment. But lately, he had seemed more closed off. And now, with Daichi leaving abruptly… Miu shook her head, trying to clear the swirling thoughts from her mind.

  It was all too much. She wanted to believe that everything was fine, that Takuma was just going through something, but the unease gnawing at her wasn’t something she could easily ignore. And Daichi… he had always kept a part of himself hidden. What was he up to this time?

  With a deep sigh, Miu pulled herself away from the window. There was nothing more she could do for now. She had to trust Takuma—she had to. But something in her gut told her that the storm was only beginning.

  The next day, the dojo was alive with the rhythmic sound of footsteps and the quiet swish of movements through the air. The sunlight filtered through the windows, casting long shadows on the floor. Miu stood at the center of the sparring mat, her eyes narrowed with determination. Takuma stood across from her, his stance casual but his gaze sharp, the faintest hint of a smirk playing at the edges of his lips.

  "Ready?" Takuma asked, his voice calm, almost teasing.

  Miu nodded, tightening her grip on her gloves. She had only known Takuma for about a month, but in that short time, he had already become her rival. Not just in strength, but in spirit. She’d felt an almost instinctual bond with him since the first time they’d met, and every day they trained together only deepened that connection. But today? Today, she was going to show him she had what it took to keep up.

  The air between them crackled with the tension of unspoken words, as if the dojo itself was holding its breath in anticipation.

  Takuma lunged first, his movement smooth and fluid like a predator stalking its prey. Miu barely had time to react, her feet skidding as she shifted to block, but Takuma was already a step ahead, his hand striking out with the precision of a seasoned fighter.

  The impact sent her stumbling back, the force enough to jar her concentration for a split second. Takuma was always fast—faster than anyone she had sparred with before. He made it look easy, like this was a game for him.

  “You’re too slow, Miu,” Takuma said with a grin, almost playfully.

  Miu gritted her teeth and quickly regained her balance, her determination flaring. She wasn’t going to let him get away with that. She closed the gap between them, throwing a flurry of strikes, her movements sharp and calculated. She’d been practicing, honing her skills in every way she could think of since they started training.

  But Takuma... he wasn’t just a better fighter. He was a strategist. He seemed to read her movements before she even made them, effortlessly dodging her attacks with a grace that almost seemed supernatural.

  She tried to catch him with a sweeping kick, but Takuma sidestepped it with ease, grabbing her ankle and twisting it just enough to throw her off balance. In an instant, she was on the floor, staring up at him.

  "Too slow," Takuma repeated, his voice still light, but there was a hint of something else—an edge to it, like he was trying to make her understand something.

  Miu’s chest heaved as she pushed herself up, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. This wasn’t how she had imagined their sparring going. She had thought, hoped, that she might’ve made some headway. But Takuma had demolished her without breaking a sweat. The sting of defeat was sharp, but there was also something else there—a sense of awe, of admiration for his skill, even if it frustrated her.

  “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath, rubbing her bruised side.

  Takuma offered her a hand to help her up. “I told you. It’s all about patience and timing. You’ve got the power, Miu, but you need to refine your technique. Focus on your rhythm, not just your strength.”

  Miu took his hand, allowing him to pull her up. “Yeah, yeah. You don’t have to rub it in.”

  Takuma laughed softly, the sound light but carrying a depth of warmth. “I’m not trying to rub it in. I’m just giving you advice. You’re strong. But strength alone won’t get you far in a fight. You have to think, move as one with your body.”

  She nodded, taking a moment to catch her breath. His words were more than just about fighting technique. There was something deeper in them, a kind of understanding, a deeper level of mentorship that he had offered her. Miu felt her respect for him grow, even as her frustration lingered.

  “I’ll get you next time,” she said with a confident smile, though she knew it would take more than just a few rounds of sparring. Takuma was leagues ahead of her in skill, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get there one day.

  Takuma raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Sure you will. Just make sure you’re not too slow next time.”

  Miu huffed, wiping sweat from her brow. “I’ll be faster next time. You just wait.”

  Takuma grinned and ruffled her hair, something he had started doing whenever he thought she was being stubborn. “That’s the spirit. Keep pushing yourself. We’ll see how far you can really go.”

  As Miu picked herself up and started stretching, she couldn’t help but reflect on how much had changed in such a short amount of time. Takuma had been the one to get her into this training, and now, she could barely imagine her days without it. Despite his calm, almost indifferent demeanour at times, she could sense the fire beneath it. Takuma wasn’t just fighting for himself—he was fighting for something greater, something she couldn’t yet fully comprehend.

  But she would. One day, she would understand. And then, maybe—just maybe—she’d be able to keep up.

  Miu’s POV:

  The school day dragged on, each class blending into the next, but no matter how hard Miu tried to focus, something felt off. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. She scanned the room during lunch, her eyes subconsciously seeking Takuma’s familiar presence. But he wasn’t there. He hadn’t been in the halls, he hadn’t been in their usual spots by the vending machines or the courtyard.

  At first, she tried to tell herself he was just busy, maybe taking care of something. But it was too unusual. Takuma didn’t miss school unless something serious was going on, and even then, he usually left a message. But today? There was nothing. Just silence. Miu had texted him a few times, but no response.

  Her mind began to wander, thinking back to the night before, the way Takuma had acted when they’d parted ways. He hadn’t been his usual self—something had changed. There was a distance between them that hadn’t been there before, a subtle coldness that seemed to linger when she looked at him. The way he avoided eye contact and gave short answers. It all felt deliberate.

  “Is he… avoiding me?” she murmured to herself, biting her lip. It wasn’t like Takuma to just disappear without a word. He wasn’t the type to leave things hanging, especially when it came to her. The knot in her stomach tightened. Something was definitely wrong, and she didn’t know how to fix it.

  She stood up from her seat, deciding she would find him after school, no matter what. He couldn’t keep pulling away from her without an explanation. Whatever it was, they could face it together—like always.

  Takuma’s POV:

  Takuma sat across from Daichi in one of the more secluded rooms of the organization’s headquarters, a large oak table between them. The room was stark and impersonal, save for the low hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of papers. Takuma’s mind was focused, despite the nagging feeling that kept pushing at the back of his mind.

  “Have you thought about who you want on your team?” Daichi asked, his voice smooth but with an edge of curiosity, like he already knew the answer but was testing the waters.

  Takuma leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the table as he pondered. “Let’s see what the organization has to offer,” he replied slowly, eyes distant as his thoughts wandered. “I’d prefer people my age, though. It just makes more sense. I’m not recruiting anyone from the school. Not yet, at least. It would probably end badly.”

  Daichi raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "That’s a rather cautious stance, don’t you think? Why do you say that?"

  Takuma shrugged, looking down at his hands for a moment before meeting Daichi’s gaze. "You know as well as I do that school isn't exactly the ideal place to recruit people for this kind of thing. The students are too… unpredictable. The risks are too high. It’s a delicate balance. Anyone we pull from there could attract attention we don’t need. And honestly, I don’t trust the motivations of half the people there, especially after everything that’s been happening."

  Daichi nodded thoughtfully, his expression thoughtful but unreadable. “True. There are… complications that could arise from involving those who are too close to you, especially when they don’t know what they’re really stepping into.”

  Takuma hesitated for a moment, remembering Miu’s concerned expression from earlier that week. He wasn’t sure how much he could explain to her without dragging her into the mess that was slowly spiraling out of control. The last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt, or worse—get caught in the crossfire of a battle he hadn’t fully understood himself.

  "So, you’ll take your time choosing?” Daichi asked, bringing Takuma out of his thoughts.

  "Yeah," Takuma replied, his voice steady, though the storm of thoughts swirled beneath the surface. “I’ll think it through. If I’m going to lead a division, I need to know that everyone I pick has something more to offer than just raw talent.”

  Daichi’s smile returned, though it held a trace of something that made Takuma uncomfortable. “That’s exactly what I like to hear. I think you’ll do well here, Takuma. It’s clear you’ve got a level of maturity and perspective that’s rare, especially in people your age.”

  Takuma didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he focused on the way Daichi’s words hit him, the undertone of praise and trust that was masked by his usual composed exterior. Takuma wasn’t sure why, but something about this whole conversation felt like a pivotal moment—one that would change everything moving forward. It wasn’t just about joining the organization anymore; it was about who Takuma would become in the process.

  But before he could dwell too much on that, Daichi continued, "You don’t need to decide right away. But when the time comes, I’m confident you’ll make the right choice."

  Takuma nodded, his mind already jumping ahead to the path that lay before him. His responsibility, his team, the decisions that would shape not only his future but the fate of everyone around him.

  Miu’s POV:

  As the final bell of the day rang, signaling the end of classes, Miu couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Takuma had barely been present during the day. He was distant, not his usual self. Even during their brief encounter in the halls, he seemed distracted, like he wasn’t really there.

  Miu packed up her things quickly, tossing her bag over her shoulder and heading for the door. She had made up her mind. She was going to find Takuma, confront him about this strange distance, and get some answers. She didn’t care if he was avoiding her—she needed to know why.

  Her footsteps were quick, determined as she made her way out of the building and into the streets. She glanced down at her phone again, only to find another message from Takuma. It was short—too short. "Sorry. I’m tied up. I’ll be home late."

  But it was the second part that caught her attention: “Don’t wait up.”

  The words stung, though she didn’t fully understand why. It wasn’t like Takuma to tell her to stay away. The more she thought about it, the more her concern grew. She had to find him. Now.

  As she walked through the streets, the weight of uncertainty settled heavily on her chest. Something wasn’t right, and she had a feeling that Takuma was at the heart of it.