Hours Later... The cold hit first. Then the dull ache in his skull.
Yuseke groaned, blinking against the dim, flickering light above him. The scent of metal and antiseptic clung to the air. His wrists bound tightly in thick chains, locked to the arms of a rusted metal chair. Same with his ankles.
He jerked once.
The chains clanked, solid and heavy.
"Great." he muttered. "Kinky."
"You're awake." said a calm, low voice.
Yuseke looked up.
In front of him sat a man draped in black... nails painted, lips pale, eyes rimmed with dark shadow. One leg crossed over the other. A long trench coat spilled around him like smoke that had a name tsg on it. His name echoed in Yuseke's mind as if he knew it before he heard it.
Kokoro.
In the far corner stood a girl... arms crossed, one boot resting on the wall behind her. Short purple hair. A scar over one eyebrow. Her glare could peel skin. Essence flickered faintly around her like she was barely restraining herself from pouncing.
"Where's Shinji?" Yuseke demanded, chains rattling as he struggled against them. "What did you do to him?!"
"Calm down." Kokoro said, voice smooth like a cello. "Your friend's alive. He's in critical condition but our healer's taking care of him."
Yuseke breathed out, shoulders sagging a little. Then his eyes sharpened again.
"What do you people want from us?"
Kokoro raised a brow, almost amused. "Wait… you think we're with those scumbags you turned into squashed tomatoes back in the alley?" He leaned back in his chair. "Read the room, kid."
Yuseke glanced between them, eyes narrowing.
"Yeah, well, your friend over there's giving off 'murder-vibes' like it's her cologne. How do I know she's not one of them?"
Sakura stepped forward without a word, her footfalls sharp. Her Essence flared like a laser charging.
Kokoro raised a hand calmly.
Sakura stopped mid-step, clenched her jaw, then spun and marched out the door with a slam.
Yuseke blinked. "Okay… what the hell's her deal?"
"She's not a people person." Kokoro replied.
Yuseke shifted in his seat, testing the chains again. Still tight.
"About this place..." Kokoro said, standing up and brushing off his coat, "it's far outside the city."
Yuseke's eyes widened. "Wait, wait... we're out of the city?"
"Yeah."
Yuseke exhaled slowly, trying to wrap his head around it.
"Alrighty..." Kokoro continued, "you called that guy in medics Shinji, so I'm guessing that's he's name. What about you?"
Yuseke blinked again. "So you brought strangers in your home?" He looked around dramatically. "What is this, some kind of high budget foster home? Are you my new dad? And Miss grumpy's supposed to be my edgy big sister?"
Kokoro gave a deadpan look. "No. You're here because one of our members brought you in… after your little street parade."
Yuseke stared. "My What?"
Kokoro sat back down. "Oh yeah, your anger took control of you and lashed out."
"I know what Rampage is..." Yuseke snapped. "you could've saved us both time."
Kokoro chuckled.
"…So what happens to me now?"
Kokoro folded his fingers together. "You're an Awakened Wielder. There's no going back to a normal life."
Before he could finish the thought...
"WHAT?!" Yuseke shouted. "No, no, I can't be a Wielder! I didn't go through emotional collapse or whatever trauma nonsense! This has to be a mistake!"
His voice cracked. "Oh my God. The Saints are gonna kill me. I can't die right now! I haven't even done a threesome yet!"
Kokoro's calm shattered like glass. "Unless you join us..." he snapped, "then yes, you will die."
The words hung in the air like thunder.
Yuseke blinked. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious."
"But… won't I get you guys killed if I stick around?"
Kokoro tilted his head. "Read the room, buddy. We're not some wannabe gang, we're the Outcasts."
Yuseke blinked. "Wait, whaaaat?" His voice cracked again. "Nooooo. I can't join this band! You guys are like urban legends who kill innocent people!"
"We don't..." Kokoro said flatly. "That's what the House of Saints wants you to believe but we don't kill innocents. We're trying to rebuild a society the Saints shattered with lies and bloodshed."
Yuseke stared at him for a long moment. Then slumped back in the chair with a sigh. "Even if you are lying… it's not like I've got options."
He looked around. "Alright then. I'll join your little high school band but no weird uniforms, okay?"
Kokoro smirked slightly. "Good. I'll introduce you to the others soon."
"Cool, cool." Yuseke nodded. "So, uh… now that I'm one of the cool kids… could you maybe get me out of these chains? I'm starting to feel more like a prisoner than a team member here."
Kokoro stood, walking around him slowly.
"Alright but bare this..."
He snapped his fingers. The chains unlocked all at once, dropping to the floor with a heavy clatter.
"…if you snap again, even once, I'll personally make sure you stay chained."
Yuseke rubbed his wrists, giving a cheeky grin. "So you are the strict foster dad type?"
Kokoro rolled his eyes and turned toward the door. "Come on. Time to meet the family."
Yuseke rose to his feet, wobbling slightly.
The door groaned open.
Yuseke followed Kokoro down a metal hallway that felt more like a bunker than a base. The air smelled like oil and stone... damp, industrial and cold. Strange lights flickered across the walls as the scent of Essence lingered faintly in the air like a distant storm.
Kokoro led him into a wide room a training chamber from the looks of it. The walls were padded. Equipment was scattered in neat piles. And four people stood waiting.
Correction... three people and one behemoth.
The first to step forward was a mountain in human skin. Shaggy brown hair, arms the size of tree trunks, wild eyes that gleamed like an animal's.
"This..." Kokoro said simply, "is Kenji."
The man cracked his knuckles. The sound echoed. Yuseke gulped.
Then came someone familiar. Sakura stood leaning against the far wall, arms folded, as if her entire existence was a permanent scowl.
"Yeah." Yuseke muttered. "I remember her."
Sakura clicked her tongue.
The third was the wild card. A girl with short teal hair, mismatched socks and a hoodie too big for her. She practically skipped forward, beaming.
"Hiyaaa! I'm Yumi! It's so good to meet you! You're so adorable by the way!"
Yuseke blinked as she leaned way too close.
"Uh… thanks?"
Yumi gave him a double thumbs-up like they'd been best friends for years.
He took a breath, then gave a small bow. "I'm Yuseke. I guess I'm the new guy."
From the back, a calm voice spoke.
"Welcome to the Outcasts, Yuseke."
Yuseke turned and froze.
A man stood there now, tall, lean and cold. His presence filled the room like a thundercloud with a heartbeat. His black coat trailed behind him, his hair silver like ash and his eyes… empty. The kind of empty that knew too much.
Yuseke's stomach dropped.
"Damn..." he said under his breath. "You guys all got scary vibes but this guy? Is he even human?"
Before anyone else could respond, Sakura snapped, "Of course he is, dumbass."
Yuseke ignored her, muttering, "Okay, seriously... what is her deal?"
"I don't like you." Sakura replied flatly.
Yuseke looked her in the eye. "Well, lucky you the feeling's mutual."
Kenji chuckled, arms still folded. "Hmph. Kid's got a tongue on him." Then he turned to Kokoro. "But does he even know how to fight?"
Yuseke puffed his chest. "Of course I do."
"Yeah, right." Kenji scoffed. "His Essence's barely has a spark. Y'all sure about this guy? Feels like he's just gonna drag us down."
Sakura, unsurprisingly, nodded. "I second that."
Yuseke opened his mouth to argue, but...
"Hey!" Yumi suddenly stepped forward, frowning for the first time. "Give him a break! He just woke up from his first Rampage and now he's getting grilled by the muscle squad."
She turned, hands on her hips. "He just needs a little training. Then he'll be fine!"
Kokoro raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And who's gonna train him? Y'all know that ain't my type of..."
But before he could even finish, Kenji had already turned and walked out with a grunt. "Call me when he stops crying."
Sakura followed with her usual death-glare. "Don't expect miracles."
The door slammed behind them.
"Well that was… warm." Yuseke muttered.
Kokoro looked to Yumi. "You volunteering?"
Yumi grinned and threw a peace sign. "Yup! I'll whip him into shape in no time!"
Kokoro sighed. "Guess that settles it."
Yuseke raised a hand awkwardly. "Uh, quick question. I always heard the Outcasts had five members. But I've only seen four. Where's the fifth?"
"Oh." Kokoro replied, casual as ever. "Our Captain's out on a solo mission. She'll be back in a few."
Yuseke's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "Captain?! You mean there's someone stronger than this guy?" he pointed at Taichiro. "And she's a she?!"
Sakura's voice echoed faintly from the hallway. "Sexist pig."
Yuseke shouted back, "Can't wait to not talk to you again!"
Yumi clapped her hands. "Alrighty! First thing tomorrow, training begins!"
Yuseke groaned. "Great. So... no breakfast first?"
"Nope!" she said brightly. "Only pain!"
He looked at Kokoro. "Y'all kidnapped me, chained me to a chair, made me join a rebel gang and now you're assigning me a personal drill sergeant?"
Kokoro smirked. "Welcome to the Outcasts."
Yuseke sighed. "Can I go back to being unconscious?"
The next morning, the training field stretched wide under the open sky, surrounded by tall pines and empty silence. The air smelled like earth and morning dew. Metal rings, wooden dummies and sparring platforms dotted the area in mismatched shapes like a junkyard for warriors.
Yuseke stood on cracked stone, arms crossed, while Yumi hopped in place in front of him like she'd had five cups of sugar for breakfast.
"Alright!" she chirped. "Welcome to Day One of Yumi's Essence Bootcamp™!"
Yuseke rubbed his eyes. "...Kill me."
She beamed, completely ignoring his sarcasm. "Let's start with the basics. What do you know about Essence?"
He blinked at her. "Uhh... that it's energy?"
"Ding-ding-ding!" she said, spinning like a cheerleader. "Half a point for you!"
"Only half?"
"Yup." she grinned. "Yes, Essence is energy but it's not just some vague protein energy or a glitter cloud that makes your hair stand up. It's the core , the fuel that makes everything happen."
Yuseke scratched his head.
"Its used to fuel techniques, enhancing physical abilities, infusing weapons and summoning a Sinscourge."
"Sins-what ?"
Yumi giggled. "Sinscourges, they're beings that live in a parallel world from ours. Humans who experience emotional collapse become the gate between two worlds."
Yuseke blinked. "Oh?"
She nodded, folding her hands behind her back as she paced like a teacher. "But here's the twist. Sinscourges can't fully take control of a human body nor break out and roam on their own. Something to do with the bridge of dividing both worlds forbids them to walk freely among us. So either they form pact with you or you overwrite them."
Yuseke narrowed his eyes. "And when you do that, you become a...?"
"Wielder." she said proudly. "Yes, that's what we are, the moment when a Sinscourge enters your body... whether you tame it or overwrite it you've already became a bridge and with that a care is born and that's where Essence is stored."
She pointed to her chest.
Yuseke blinked, then looked down at his own. "Wait, like... here?"
"Yup!" she said, tapping her sternum. "You can't see it but I bet you can feel it. Feels like calm fire, doesn't it?"
He stood still.
For a second... he could. A low heat, humming faintly inside him like embers that never quite cooled.
"...That's it." he muttered. "That's the feeling?"
Yumi smiled wide. "Yeah."
He looked back at her. "But here's what's weird... I feel it coming off you, too. All over your body."
She gave a satisfied nod. "Good eye. Now that's the next part."
Yumi walked over to a sparring dummy and punched it lightly. Her fist glowed with a faint blue flames.
"Essence stays stored in the core..." she explained, "but if you want to use it, you have to release it. Like a water tank, the core's the tank but you need to open the pipes and let it flow through your whole body. That's what you're feeling from me... I've got it flowing freely."
"So once it flows, it... powers you up?"
"Yup, now we have two types of Wielders. First we have Overwriters, they overwhelm their Sinscourge by force and absorb its power, Essence flows through them the same as the other type but they only use it to boost physical abilities or infuse it into weapons and some can also use techniques."
She danced on her toes, flicking a small flame between her fingers.
Yuseke raised a hand. "What, I thought Wielders only fought by summoning Sincanges"
"Sinscourges. And yes, those are summoners, they often rely heavily on the Sinscourge itself to fight. Most of them get ones with long-range attacks. So they don't need to train their own body that much but some still do... like me!"
"You're a Summoner?" he asked, surprised.
"Yup!" she chirped. "But I work out, too. Gotta stay flexible!"
"Then there's Hybrids, the real deal. They summon Sinscourges and use their techniques without summoning. They've got perks from both sides, super rare and super deadly."
Yuseke frowned."So if I run out of Essence... I'm screwed?"
Yumi gave him a thumbs-up. "Yup. No juice, no powers." she then clapped her hands— "Alright, let's try it. Push the Essence out of your core and into your limbs. Let it flow. Like warm light pouring through your blood. Don't force it. Feel it. Open the pipes."
Yuseke closed his eyes. He breathed in. Slow. The warmth in his chest flickered.
He tried to grab it... to shove it into his arms, hands and legs.
Nothing.
He clenched his teeth.
Still nothing.
"Don't grip it too hard." Yumi said gently. "It's like trying to grab fire with your hands. Let it move. Let it burn."
The sun began to dip below the trees. Shadows grew longer. The air turned gold and orange. Crickets began to sing.
And Yuseke... still failed.
His shirt stuck to his back from sweat and he collapsed on the ground with a groan.
"Ughhh, I hate this. I feel like I'm trying to sneeze with my soul."
Yumi laughed. "That's the most accurate thing I've ever heard."
He rolled over, staring at the sky. "This Essence thing better be worth it."
"Oh, it is." Yumi said, kneeling next to him. "Alright, let's call it a night. You'll get it eventually, it just takes time."
Yuseke groaned and rolled his shoulder, sore from hours of failure. His shirt clung to him with sweat and his limbs felt like rubber. "Eventually better be soon. At this rate, I'll be a punching bag for the Saints."
Yumi laughed and waved him off as she strolled back toward the compound.
Dragging his feet back inside, Yuseke wandered the hall with shoulders heavy and thoughts heavier. Lanterns lit the corridor in dim, warm glows, casting shadows that danced with each step he took.
As he passed the common area, Kokoro leaned against the wall, sipping from a chipped mug. His coat hung loose off one shoulder and a calm glimmer played in his eyes.
"How'd the training go?" Kokoro asked, not looking up.
Yuseke slumped onto a nearby bench. "Imagine trying to empty a water tank into a straw and the straw's clogged with chewing gum. That's what it felt like."
Kokoro raised a brow. "...What?"
Yuseke waved it off. "Never mind."
Kokoro chuckled. "Yeah, sounds about right for Day One." He took a slow sip, then smiled. "By the way... your friend's up."
Yuseke sat up straight. "Wait, for real?"
Kokoro nodded, gesturing toward a hallway. "Room at the end. Doc says he's stable just banged up pretty bad. You should go see him."
Yuseke didn't wait for another word. He practically jogged down the hallway, heart punching against his ribs.
When he pushed the door open, the world slowed.
There, sitting up in a bed with messy hair, bruised skin and tired eyes... was Shinji.
"Damn," Yuseke said, stepping inside with a smirk. "You look like a microwaved burrito."
Shinji huffed a weak laugh, hand covering his ribs. "And you look like someone who tried yoga for the first time and got beat up by gravity."
Yuseke snorted. "I'm just glad you're okay."
Shinji looked around the room... simple, sterile, yet clearly not a hospital.
"This ain't a clinic." he said, narrowing his eyes. "Since when do you have friends who do house calls for stab wounds?"
"Since yesterday." Yuseke grinned. "Welcome to my rockstar band."
Shinji blinked. "Are you serious?"
"About the rockstar part? Dead serious. And the rest? Also serious, I'm in a band now."
"What kind of band?" Shinji asked slowly, suspiciously.
Yuseke sat on the edge of the bed. "A Wielders band."
The air changed. Subtle... but real.
Shinji's brows drew together. "Wait. These people... they're Wielders?"
Yuseke nodded. Shinji's face drained of color.
"Okay... nope. We need to leave, now. If we stay here too long, we're dead meat."
Shinji ripped the blanket off and winced as his side flared with pain. Still, he dragged himself out of bed, wobbling on unsteady legs as he staggered toward the door.
Yuseke didn't move.
Shinji turned around. "Yuseke. Come on, man. Let's bounce."
Yuseke lowered his eyes.
"I can't go."
Shinji froze. "...What?"
"I can't go!" Yuseke shouted, fists clenched at his sides.
The room fell silent.
Shinji stared. "Yuseke... these people are gonna get us killed. The Saints..."
"I'm already in trouble!" Yuseke barked, louder than he meant to. His voice cracked, raw and sharp. "I'm a Wielder, Shinji."
Silence again.
"What?" Shinji asked, voice soft now.
"I don't know how but... I think it happened when I saw you, bleeding out after you saved me. I felt... helpless. Like there was nothing I could do, then I blacked out. Next thing I know... I wake up with this heat in my chest and with these guys."
Shinji ran a shaky hand through his hair, stumbling back toward the bed and slumping onto the mattress. "Damn, Yuseke... why?"
Yuseke looked at the floor. "I didn't choose this man, it just... happened. And now, I've got some weird heat on my chest and a death sentence hanging over my head. So don't act like I can go back to school tomorrow and pretend everything's okay."
Shinji looked like he was about to say something but stopped. His hand balled into a fist over the sheets. "This is all my fault."
"No, it's not." Yuseke snapped. "You didn't force me into this. I'm the one who let it in. I did this to myself." His throat tightened. "So don't blame yourself or we'll both get pulled into this mess."
He walked over and grabbed Shinji by the shoulders.
"When you get out of here try to live a normal life. Go chase a big dream. Find love. Be boring and be free. Just... don't worry about me anymore."
Shinji clenched his teeth. His eyes stung.
"You idiot." he muttered. "You dumb, noble idiot."
Yuseke forced a laugh. "Yeah, well... now you don't have to babysit me anymore."
There was a long silence between them. Then Finally.
"Get Strong, man" Shinji said, looking him in the eye. "Stronger than every Saint that breathes."
"I will."
"Good." Shinji said, turning to leave.
Yuseke stood in one place for almost five minutes.
The next morning, the training yard smelled like dew and dust.
Yuseke stood in front of the weapon rack with hands in his pockets, squinting at the rows of deadly choices... axes, staffs, daggers, hammers but only one drew him in.
A sword.
Simple. Clean. Balanced.
He picked it up, letting the weight settle in his palm. Not too heavy, not too light. A standard longsword with a dark grip and a dull shimmer.
Yumi raised a brow. "Going with that one?"
"Yup." He gave it a few test swings. "Looks cool and slashy."
Kokoro leaned against the fence with arms crossed. "He's probably an Overwriter type. Might as well teach him the basics first."
Yumi nodded. "Alright, sword-boy. Let's see if you've got hands."
They started slow. Footwork. Posture. Angles. Yuseke stumbled a few times but by the end of the first hour, he was moving with surprising sharpness. His stance tightened. His strikes landed cleaner. His breathing fell into rhythm.
Yumi didn't say much but her eyes narrowed with growing interest.
After lunch, they moved into light sparring. Yumi moved like water fluid, patient, holding back so much he could barely tell she was even trying. Still, he landed a graze.
Yumi's lips twitched. "Not bad."
By sunset, Yuseke collapsed in the grass, sword laid beside him, chest heaving.
He stared up at the orange sky and smiled.
He couldn't control Essence yet but damn… for the first time in a long while, he felt like he was getting somewhere.
Tuesday morning.
He could feel it now.
The calm fire in his chest stirred the moment he stepped into the yard. He focused, standing still with eyes closed. Water from the tank… through the pipes…
And then... it flowed.
A quiet hum ignited through his veins. It felt like adrenaline and fire stitched into one. His arms tingled, feet light, breath sharper. And just like that... his sword glowed red.
Crimson energy danced along the blade, flickering with unstable sparks.
"Whoa," he whispered.
Yumi, watching nearby, let a small grin break across her face. "Took you long enough."
They sparred again. The difference in Yuseke's performance was instant. Every movement was faster, sharper, more controlled. He wasn't just reacting he was attacking. He kept his footing better, closed gaps quicker, forced Yumi to move with real effort.
Still, she danced around him with ease but the gap had narrowed.
"Try again!" she called, voice upbeat.
He lunged, infused his strike, twisted in midair...
Blocked.
But she nodded in approval.
By the end of the day, he was limping, sword arm shaking. But something had changed.
The power was no longer a stranger.