The night air was cool, drifting in from the half-open window of Touma's living room. Rikuu sat on the edge of the sofa, elbows resting on his knees, staring at Touma with a sharp, searching gaze.
"What's your background with families?" Rikuu asked. His tone was steady, but there was something beneath it — a tension that made Takeshi glance at him sideways. "Consider Suzuki, for instance," Rikuu added. "It'll assist us."
Touma's eyes narrowed slightly, as though recalling something far away. He exhaled slowly.
"It all started when we met Ryoichi," he began, "back when I was still running with my clan. At first, we were just acquaintances. But over time… we became close friends. Closer than I ever was with Asahi. We even went on to become best friends."
Touma's gaze softened. "The bond and trust between us were… unshakable. We relied on each other for everything."
He paused, and something flickered in his expression — a shadow of regret.
"His eldest son passed away five years before you were bor—"
Rikuu's head snapped up. "Wait. What do you mean, five years before I was born? And… his eldest son?" His voice had gone cold. "You do realize I'm the oldest child among all of them?"
Touma tilted his head slightly, as though weighing whether to go on. "I guess Ryoichi and Aiko never told you about that," he said finally.
Rikuu's grip on his knees tightened. "Told me… what?"
"Ryuu. Suzuki Ryuu," Touma said quietly. "That was his name. He already knew how to aim a rifle and use a sword like your father by the time he was four years old. The boy was… exceptional. Too exceptional." Touma's eyes drifted to the table as if trying to avoid Rikuu's gaze. "We never found out why Ryoichi said he passed away at the age of five. If Ryuu had lived, Aiko and Ryoichi might never have had you. For them… Ryuu sufficed."
The words hit Rikuu like a sudden blow. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Touma went on, his voice softer now. "Maybe that's why your father never said anything about him. Ryuu was your older brother — your eldest sibling."
For a long moment, the room was silent except for the faint ticking of the wall clock.
Rikuu's face was pale, his eyes wide but unfocused. "I… never knew him," he whispered.
Takeshi glanced at him, concern etched on his face, but said nothing.
Rikuu's hands began to tremble. He wasn't sure if it was anger, shock, or both. A heaviness settled in his chest — a hollow weight he couldn't shake.
Touma reached into a small drawer and pulled out an old, slightly faded photograph. He held it out carefully.
"This is him. Ryuu."
Rikuu didn't move at first. Then, almost reluctantly, he reached forward and took the photo without looking at it. His eyes stayed fixed on the floor. "...I'll take this to Shoto. Maybe he can tell me more."
Takeshi studied his friend — his rigid shoulders, the way his jaw was clenched — and knew Rikuu was trying to hold himself together.
Rikuu suddenly shifted the topic, though his voice was still unsteady. "What happened to Fuyutsuki-san? What's her situation?"
Touma leaned back, letting out a slow breath. "Akihiko told me she retired. Moved to another country to live a normal life — around a year or two ago. After that, we never heard from her again."
Rikuu nodded slowly, as though that answer was enough to keep him from drowning in his own thoughts. But Takeshi saw the truth in his eyes — he was devastated.
Takeshi cleared his throat. "Dad… it's getting late. We can't risk getting caught by local Tokyo patrols. We should head out."
Touma stood with them, and Miyako appeared at the doorway to see them off.
"Take care of yourselves," she said warmly.
"We will," Takeshi replied with a faint smile.
The two boys slipped out into the cool night, leaping across rooftops under the silver glow of the moon.
Halfway across a row of narrow buildings, Rikuu stumbled and dropped to one knee.
"Hey—what happened? You good?" Takeshi asked, crouching beside him.
"I'm just… trembling," Rikuu admitted. His voice was quiet, almost strained. "That Ryuu thing… it's eating at me. Don't say anything to Akari about it. She just recovered. I know what will happen if she finds out."
"You can rely on me," Takeshi said firmly.
Rikuu met his gaze for a brief moment, then nodded. The two rose and took off again, their footsteps echoing faintly over the silent streets.
⋯
By the time they reached headquarters, their breaths had steadied. Shoto was waiting in the main room, leaning against the desk.
"Well?" he asked.
Takeshi stepped forward. "We spoke to Touma. Got some… important details."
Rikuu said nothing. He kept the photograph tucked away inside his coat. He wasn't ready to share it — not yet.
Takeshi noticed but didn't say a word.
Shoto listened to their summary, his expression unreadable. When they finished, he gave a short nod.
"Well done, you two. This supports what I believe — we're up against someone from the past."
Rikuu's brows furrowed. Someone from the past… could that mean Ryuu? No — it didn't make sense. He shook his head, doubt creeping in.
Shoto's gaze lingered on him. "Something on your mind, Rikuu?"
"…Nothing," Rikuu said quickly.
Shoto didn't push further. "Get some rest. Both of you."
⋯
When they returned to their hideout, Rikuu didn't rest. The moment the door shut behind them, he turned to Takeshi.
"I need the fingerprints," he said abruptly. "And the passcode."
Takeshi frowned. "You're still thinking about that now?"
"I can't let this go," Rikuu replied, his voice low but unwavering. "Not after what I just learned."