The morning of the fight dawned heavy with anticipation. A chill breeze drifted through the corridors of the Seirei Exorcist headquarters, whispering of the storm to come.
Inside his room, Makoto Katsuragi stood before the mirror, tugging the last strap of his combat gear into place. His reflection looked back at him—determined eyes, steady breath, and a heart that hammered against his chest with a rhythm of both fear and resolve. Today wasn't just another mission. Today was his test, a fight that could shift the balance of their region forever.
He lingered a moment longer, staring at himself. I can't fail. Not in front of them. Not in front of his father, Kyoka Katsuragi.
With one last exhale, Makoto stepped into the hallway.
To his surprise, every other member of his team was already dressed. Haruko, Rin, Miwafe, Yana, Takumi Enatsu—all stood waiting, their uniforms crisp, their faces tense but determined.
Makoto blinked, confused. "What's going on?"
Takumi Spoke. "What do you mean, what's going on? Hurry up. The boss and Ninda are waiting outside. The Seven are sending a transport to take us to the arena."
Makoto froze, pointing to himself. "Us? Wait, don't tell me… you guys are coming too? Seriously, I—"
Before he could finish, Miwafe stepped forward and lightly thumped her fist against his head. "That's enough from you," she said flatly, though her flushed cheeks betrayed her emotions.
"Yeah, buddy," Haruko chimed in with a goofy grin, slinging an arm around Makoto's shoulder. "Did you really think you were going alone? No way. We've got your back, whether you like it or not."
Makoto stared at them all, words failing him. For so long he had carried the weight of battle by himself. To see them, dressed and ready, left him speechless.
"Okay, everyone," a voice broke the silence. Raito stood at the elevator with Ninda beside him. "The ride's here. Let's move."
The group piled into the elevator, their reflections bouncing across the mirrored walls. The air was tense with unspoken worries, but their steps were steady.
Outside the hospital building that masked their HQ, two familiar faces waited by a sleek black car. Belto sat behind the wheel, his sharp eyes narrowing the moment he saw Makoto. In the passenger seat was Sakura, calm and collected as always.
Makoto noticed Belto's glare immediately and couldn't resist a smirk. "Oh, look. It's Bob Cut."
Belto's jaw clenched, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "Call me that again. I dare you."
Makoto leaned casually against the rolled-down window, grin widening. "Call you what? Bob Cut?"
Belto nearly leapt out of the car, but Sakura's hand shot out, stopping him. "Easy," she said firmly. "We were ordered not to fight or cause trouble. Just focus on delivering Makoto to the arena. Ignore him."
Belto forced his eyes away, his voice a growl. "Fine. Get in already, you bastards."
The group crammed into the back seats, all eight of them pressed shoulder to shoulder.
"Couldn't they have gotten us a bigger car?" Rin muttered irritably, half-crushed against the door.
Belto's glare shot through the rearview mirror. "Quiet. It's not like we planned to chauffeur the entire loser squad."
"I don't mind where I am," Makoto said innocently.
Everyone turned to see him squished awkwardly against Yana, his head buried against her boobs. Yana's face turned bright red, her composure completely gone.
"MAKOTO!" Miwafe shouted, her voice cracking with fury as her cheeks blazed red.
Moments later, a "solution" was found—Miwafe had tied Makoto up with a rope and shoved him into the car's boot, muttering angrily under his breath. Makoto's muffled protests could still be heard as they drove.
Belto, meanwhile, cast a sideways glance at Sakura, then back at the road. This region is insane, he thought bitterly. They know what's about to happen, yet they're laughing and behaving like morons with each other like it's nothing. Do they really think Makoto can beat the leader of the Seven? No… it's not that. They've already accepted their fate. Well, whatever happens, as long as Makoto gets hurt, I'll be satisfied.
Rin, gazing out the window, suddenly realized something. He turned sharply to Raito. "Boss, wait. If all of us are here, then who's handling Seirei alerts back at HQ?"
Kaito's calm expression never wavered. "Don't worry. Chida is in charge until we return."
"Chida?" Rin repeated, doubtful.
"I know he's not the ideal choice," Raito admitted. "But we didn't have another option."
From the boot, Makoto's voice called out, muffled but sharp. "Or maybe you should've stayed back to handle threats yourself!"
Takumi glanced over his shoulder, voice firm. "Give it up, Makoto. We all chose to be here. Every one of us wants to stand beside you. Stop trying to shoulder everything alone. Rely on us, even if it's just once in a while."
"Tch." Belto clicked his tongue, his voice dripping with disdain. "So that's what this is? You think teaming up will help you win against the Leader? You still don't stand a chance."
"I know," Raito said suddenly, cutting him off.
The car grew silent. Belto's eyes flicked to the side mirror, studying Raito's expression.
Raito continued, calm but resolute. "Makoto will fight alone. This is his battle. A man's fight is sacred—we won't interfere. But if he needs us, even for a second, we'll be there. That's what it means to be his team."
Belto stared at him through the mirror, shocked by his conviction. After a long pause, he scoffed and looked back at the road. "Whatever you say, old man."
Sakura, however, remained silent, her eyes flicking briefly to the rearview mirror. For a moment, her calm façade cracked, betraying a flicker of thought she didn't voice.
Minutes later, the car pulled to a stop before a massive arena. Its towering gates loomed like the entrance to another world, guarded by steel and shadows.
Belto killed the engine with a grunt. Sakura turned in her seat, addressing Makoto as he stepped out of the boot. "You head in from there." She pointed to a massive door at the far end. "We'll take your team to a viewing area where they can watch without interfering."
Makoto stared at her silently for a moment, his mind flashing back to the last time they had met—her strike, swift and unseen, had knocked him out cold in an instant. She's dangerous. To pull that on me, she has to be as strong as Belto.
"Alright," he said finally. "I'll go."
"Take care, okay?" Yana said softly, her eyes lingering on him longer than she meant to.
"Don't forget to beat his ass!" Haruko cheered, flashing a thumbs-up.
Miwafe crossed her arms, refusing to meet Makoto's eyes. "Can we just go already? I'm getting sick just looking at his face."
Makoto grinned. "Miwa, I'll make sure to land a hit just for you, if you want."
Her composure shattered instantly, her entire face flushing red. "Y-you—shut up!" she stammered, accidentally triggering her ice power. A massive boulder of ice shot forward, barreling toward Makoto at terrifying speed.
"Oh no—!" she gasped, realizing too late what she'd done.
Everyone froze, horror flashing across their faces. Except Sakura's slightly shocked expression and Belto's indifference.
The ice struck Makoto head-on.
But instead of crushing him, the massive block shattered into a thousand shards, exploding harmlessly around him. His shirt was torn, but his skin was untouched, not even a scratch marking him.
Everyone stared in stunned silence.
Makoto looked down at himself and flexed his hands. "Okay. Ice test complete. Looks like my training paid off."
Raito's eyes widened. "Test? …You wanted that to happen?"
Makoto turned, his eyes locking onto Belto. "I'm heading in. Belto, I know you think this is the end for me. But I won't say what I'll do. Just watch."
Belto's shock melted into seething anger. "Asshole," he muttered under his breath, slamming his hand on the wheel as he drove the others toward a separate entrance.
Makoto walked into the arena.
Inside, the air was thick with tension. The Seven were already there, their presence radiating immense power. Each sat in silence, watching as Makoto entered the ring. His eyes scanned them all but settled on one figure in particular—Saito.
Saito's expression was unreadable as he leaned forward. His voice was calm, yet it cut through the silence like a blade.
"Makoto," he said. "Are you ready?"