All of them sat and listened to Bianca's story without a single interruption.
When she finished, Austin rested his chin in his hand, eyes distant like he was running calculations. Hakim gave a slow nod. Mark stayed silent for a beat, then muttered absently:
"So… that's how it happened."
Bianca nodded. Then her gaze drifted over him — up and down. A small smile tugged at her lips.
"I was so busy worrying about everything outside that I barely noticed your new haircut," she said, resting her head in her palms.
Mark shrugged without looking at her. "It's nothing major."
"It definitely is," Bianca said. "It really suits you. Don't you think so, Payal?"
Payal looked up and smiled too. "Yeah. It brings out your sharp features."
Mark dropped his gaze to the table so no one could see his face heating up. Hakim burst out laughing.
"Take it easy, ladies. You're making the poor guy blush," he said, still grinning.
The girls giggled.
While all this was happening, Austin was quiet. His glasses slid down a fraction, and he adjusted them with a slow breath. Then he spoke, calm and certain:
"I think I know what's happening."
Everyone stopped. The room went quiet. All eyes turned to him.
Austin didn't waste time. He explained their situation with Bruce — the photo, the territory breach, the war declaration — so the girls had a clear picture of why Brookhaven had exploded today.
Right as he finished, the library doors slammed open. Connor slid in on one knee, grin sharp, tie crooked.
"What'd I miss?"
Austin smiled calmly. "Nothing you didn't already know."
Before Connor could answer, a knuckle cracked against the back of his head.
_THWACK._
Connor yelped. Hakim's hand shot out and clamped over his mouth.
"Don't make noise in the library," Hakim said, grin widening. "Now sit down."
Connor dropped into the chair, rubbing the back of his head. He whispered through Hakim's fingers, pouting:
"Bruh. I just fought five guys. Now ain't the time for this."
---
After Connor slumped into the chair and rubbed his head, Austin picked up right where he left off. No pause. No wasted motion.
"There's no question these attacks are because of Bruce," he said. But his voice was low, like he was thinking out loud more than talking to them. "But they're way too organized to be random luck."
He tapped the table once with his index finger. A quiet, metronome beat.
"Connor, you got jumped by five on the border. Stream went live, 15k viewers. Bianca, you got tested by a ranked biker with a bat on your route to school. Two fronts. Two different types of fighters. All within the same hour."
He adjusted his glasses. "They're not just swinging. They're expanding territory. Securing chokepoints. Weakening us block by block so they have the upper hand before the real fight begins."
Connor blinked. "Wait… you're telling me this isn't even the beginning?"
Austin nodded once. Calm. Certain. "It's very possible. For now they chose chaos. Quick hits. Hit-and-run. Break morale, map our response times, see who shows up to help who. It's smart. But predictable."
A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. The kind he got when the board started making sense.
Hakim caught it immediately. He'd seen that look before. Back when Austin predicted that trap in the parking garage and they walked right through it. Hakim matched the smile, slow and easy.
"So, Austin," he said, leaning forward, arms folded. "What plan we going with?"
Austin's smile didn't fade. "This time it's not a plan. It's a game of chess."
Connor raised an eyebrow, feet already halfway up on the table. "Chess? Bro, we're in a gang war, not a tournament."
"A plan is issued when you're dealing with someone average," Austin continued, resting both hands flat on the table. "You tell people where to stand, what to hit, when to move. But Bruce didn't think of this. Someone on their side did. Someone capable. A real strategist."
His eyes flicked toward the window, where distant sirens still wailed. "And it won't be easy to foil their moves if we just react. We have to think three steps ahead of them."
Connor dropped his feet back down. "So how you gonna beat him, huh? Some genius Blue High nerd?"
"It's gonna take timing," Austin said. "Patience. And information." He looked at each of them in turn. "And you all have to trust me. Think you can do that?"
Hakim didn't hesitate. "Of course, bruh. That ain't even a question."
"I'm with Kim on this one," Connor said, grin sharp but eyes serious now. "You say jump, I'll ask how high mid-air."
Bianca nodded once. Payal's hands stopped fidgeting and she gave a small, firm nod too. Mark didn't speak, but he sat up straighter. Eyes on Austin.
Austin exhaled through his nose. Then he smiled. Real, but small.
"Good. Then let me begin by telling you how we'll handle them."
He slid his notebook across the table. On the page: a rough map of the blocks between Silver High and the border. Red dots marked where the attacks happened. Blue arrows showed the direction Blue High was pushing. And in the center, circled twice, a single intersection.
"We don't meet them head-on," Austin said, finger tapping the circle. "We let them think we're reacting. Then we cut their supply lines. Force them to overextend. And when they do…"
He looked up, glasses glinting.
"We take the king."
The room went quiet. Not tense. Focused.
---
As Austin was about to lay out the first move, the library doors opened with a soft _click_.
"Hope I didn't miss anything, yeah?"
Adrian's voice came through first. Then the rest of him.
Bandage wrapped around his head from yesterday's brawl. Cocky, lovable grin in place like nothing had changed. Lollipop stick poking out from the corner of his mouth. White dress shirt, no tie. White blazer with the Silver High emblem stitched clean over the chest. Black dress pants. High-top sneakers that had seen better days.
Behind him: Sato, arms folded, face blank as always. And May, sand-blonde hair tied back, still quiet but standing closer to Bianca now instead of behind everyone.
Connor shot up from his chair. "Holy shit, A. That bandage looking serious."
"Old news," Adrian said, waving him off with the lollipop. "Took a hit yesterday. Blue High happened. I handled it."
Austin, Hakim, and Connor all relaxed a fraction. Hakim's fist unclenched. The tension dropped from _hospital_ to _yesterday_.
Still, Hakim walked up to Sato and clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Thanks for watching his back."
Sato didn't move. Black sweater over a dress shirt, blazer on top. Black dress pants. Dress shoes that clicked when he walked. His piercings caught the sunlight from the window and threw it back.
"No need," Sato said, voice flat. "I didn't do it for him. Only for myself."
"Still though. Thanks," Hakim said, grinning.
Sato gave the smallest nod. That was as close to acceptance as he got.
While they talked, Mark had been quiet. Too quiet. He wasn't listening to Adrian's jokes or Sato's one-word replies. His eyes were locked on the bandage. On the lollipop. On how casually Adrian stood there after getting hit.
Then Mark stood up.
He walked straight to Hakim and Adrian. Didn't look at the girls. Didn't look at Connor. Just at them.
"Hakim. Adrian," he said. Voice steady, no stutter. "Please teach me how to strike."
Adrian raised an eyebrow, lollipop shifting in his mouth. "What, now?"
Mark shook his head once. "I know it might seem early. But after today… after seeing Bianca get tested, seeing Connor get jumped by five, hearing about Blue High moving like this…" He swallowed. "I can't afford to be weak like I was this morning. Not every opponent's gonna be slow. Not every fight's gonna give me time to think."
He looked them dead in the eye. No fear. Just calm determination. The same look he had when he caught Austin's pen.
"Please," Mark said. "Teach me how to actually fight."
The room went quiet.
Hakim and Adrian looked at each other. A silent conversation passed between them in half a second. Then both of them smiled. Different kinds. Hakim's was slow, approving. Adrian's was sharp, excited.
"We start this afternoon, yeah?" Adrian said, popping the lollipop out and pointing it at Mark like a sword. "No more dodging and hoping. We're building a weapon."
Mark exhaled. He didn't smile yet. But his shoulders dropped a little. For the first time since the war started, he looked hopeful. Not because someone would save him. Because he was about to learn how to save himself.
Austin watched all of it without interrupting. Then he tapped the map on the table once.
"Good," he said quietly. "Because we're gonna need every striker we can get."
The council was complete. The plan was moving. And Brookhaven's clock was ticking.
---