The night was heavy, filled with whispers of danger. But inside the small, broken-down hideout where Haruya and Kaito sat, laughter filled the cracks of silence.
"Oi, Haru, stop drawing like a five-year-old!" Kaito leaned over, almost choking on his own laughter as he watched Haruya sketch crooked lines on an old notebook. The candlelight flickered, making the drawings look even worse.
"These are not crooked!" Haruya said with fake seriousness, puffing his chest. "This is called abstract art. You're too dumb to get it."
Kaito threw his head back, laughing so loud the stray cats outside hissed. "Abstract my ass! If this is art, then I'm a world-famous painter already."
Their laughter echoed, a strange warmth in the middle of a cold and violent night. Haruya didn't show it often, but every time Kaito laughed, it felt like the world wasn't so bad. Even when blood spilled in alleys, even when gang names were whispered with fear, this friendship was like a shield.
"Anyway," Kaito finally caught his breath, tapping the notebook. "You sure about this? You really think these stupid drawings can send us to the past? Or are you just playing with my brain again?"
Haruya leaned back, his smile fading a little. The playful air slowly mixed with something serious. "I don't know, Kaito. But last time… when I drew the shrine and touched it… Miyuki disappeared. Just like that. You saw it too."
Kaito's eyes hardened. He wasn't the type to believe in strange things easily, but that memory—Miyuki vanishing as if she slipped through air—was burned into his head.
"…Yeah, I saw it." His voice was lower now. "But if this is true, then Haru… this is dangerous. You can't play around with time like it's some kind of toy. One wrong line, one wrong place, and you could end up somewhere you don't even belong."
Haruya smirked, hiding the fear inside him. "Then I'll just draw better."
"Idiot," Kaito muttered, but his lips curved into a smile.
Their easy talk was suddenly cut by a sharp knock on the wooden door. Both boys froze. Knocks at night never meant something good.
Kaito grabbed a rusted iron pipe from the corner while Haruya quickly folded the notebook and hid it under his shirt.
The door creaked open, and a tall figure stepped inside. The flickering candle revealed his face—Daichi, the good-hearted gang leader. His expression was calm, but his eyes carried weight.
"You two," Daichi said, his deep voice steady. "Trouble is coming. Reiji's boys are moving tonight. They're searching for someone. And I think it's Miyuki."
Haruya felt a jolt run through him. His hand clenched on the notebook under his shirt.
"Why her?" Kaito asked, stepping forward.
Daichi shook his head. "Because they know something. Rumors are spreading about strange things happening around her. Disappearances, sudden changes… Someone must have seen what happened. If Reiji's gang catches her, she won't come back."
The room turned cold.
Haruya's unseriousness cracked a little, but he forced a grin anyway. "Well… guess we just have to be faster than them, huh?"
Kaito smacked the back of his head. "Don't joke right now, Haru. This isn't one of your stupid pranks. This is Miyuki's life."
"I know," Haruya said quietly, eyes lowering. His grin had vanished now, and for once, his voice carried weight. "That's why I can't stop. If I don't do this… if I don't fix the past, Miyuki won't have a future."
Silence filled the room.
Kaito looked at him, the boy he had laughed with for years, and for the first time, he saw something raw in Haruya's eyes. Not just the silly, reckless Haruya who joked about everything. But someone carrying a heavy burden he never spoke about.
"…Then I'm with you," Kaito said firmly. "Even if it kills me."
Haruya turned to him, a small smile tugging at his lips. Not the fake, playful grin—but a real one, full of gratitude.
Daichi stepped closer, his voice low. "If you're serious, then you need to know this. Reiji's gang is not playing around anymore. They want control of the whole city. If they find out about your… time tricks, they'll use it. And once they use it, none of us will have a future."
The candle flickered, and the three boys sat in the dim light, each carrying the weight of what was to come.
Haruya took the notebook out slowly, opening to a fresh page. His hand trembled, but he pressed the pencil down.
"What are you doing?" Kaito asked.
"Testing something," Haruya whispered. "If I draw the place where Miyuki is right now… maybe I can protect her before Reiji gets there."
The pencil scratched against paper, shaky lines forming the outline of the old train station near the river. Haruya's heartbeat echoed in his ears, faster with each stroke.
The final line was drawn. He pressed his palm on the paper.
The air shifted.
Kaito's breath caught. The candlelight stretched unnaturally, shadows bending, and the room seemed to tilt like water. Daichi's eyes widened, though his face stayed calm.
Haruya's body went still—then his eyes snapped open, glowing faintly for a second.
"…She's there," he whispered. His voice was hollow, distant. "But she's not alone. Reiji's men are already moving."
The notebook shook in his hands.
Kaito grabbed his shoulder. "Then what the hell are we waiting for? Let's go!"
Haruya looked at his best friend and smirked, the old recklessness returning to his face even as fear sat heavy inside him.
"Race you there."
"Idiot," Kaito muttered, but he was already running.
Daichi followed close, silent and strong.
The night outside was thick, the city glowing in patches of neon and darkness. Three figures ran into the heart of danger, one holding a notebook that could bend time, another holding loyalty that couldn't be broken, and the last carrying the strength to protect them both.
Somewhere near the river station, Miyuki stood unknowingly in the eye of the storm.
And the storm was almost here.