The train ride back to her hometown felt like swallowing glass in slow motion.
Each stop took her closer to memories she'd locked in concrete.Each passing mile dragged ghosts out of the shadows and into the seat beside her.
Jin sat across from her, headphones in, face unreadable.Haru stood, arms folded, eyes scanning every reflection in the glass like he expected someone to shoot first.
They didn't speak much.
The silence wasn't awkward.
It was loaded.
Like the train car had become a moving confession booth, and no one was ready to repent.
When the city skyline came into view, Aara didn't flinch.
She looked it straight in the face.
The school.The alleys.The cracked pavement where her fists learned to lie.The rooftops where she first heard her own breath between bruises.
This city didn't just hurt her.
It crafted her.
And now it was asking her back — not to forgive.To entertain.
The event was already being promoted across every street screen:
"ASH RETURNS: LEGEND OR LIAR?"
Big red lettering.Dramatic music.Her name turned into a question mark.
She didn't laugh.Didn't comment.
She just kept walking.
Because if they wanted a show?
She'd give them a war.
They checked into a small apartment arranged by Rae's team — neutral territory.
Three rooms.
Too much silence.
Aara went straight to the balcony and lit a cigarette she wouldn't smoke.
Jin unpacked her wraps and gear in silence.
Haru made calls.
When Aara finally spoke, it was to the wind:
"This city hasn't changed."
"Neither have the people," Haru muttered behind her."Just got better at hiding their claws."
That night, Aara returned alone to the old school grounds.
They hadn't rebuilt anything.
Same rusted gates.Same broken windows.Same spray-painted slurs still half-visible on the walls.
It smelled like mold and old fear.
Like the version of her that never made it out.
She stood there for a long time.
Remembering the teachers who looked away.The so-called friends who watched her bleed and called it a phase.The silence she swallowed instead of screams.
Then a voice behind her.
Familiar. Cold.
"Didn't think you'd actually show."
Aara turned.
Minji.
The old "best friend."
The one who knew how to smile while stabbing backs.
The one who started the chain of bullying that left Aara fighting alone.
Minji looked better.
Shiny. Clean.Like guilt had never touched her.
"You're trending again.Guess pain sells after all."
"Some of us have to bleed for others to profit.You've always known that."
Minji stepped closer.
"You think you're some warrior now?You're just a product of the same city you're pretending to burn down."
"No," Aara said, voice like ice."I'm the storm it didn't see coming."
"And what — you're here for revenge? For a rematch?"
"I'm not here for you at all."
Aara turned her back on her.
Didn't throw a punch.
Didn't scream.
Just walked away.
Because power doesn't always explode.
Sometimes it walks off the battlefield alive.
The next morning, the gym they were assigned was buzzing.
Photographers. Journalists. Noise.
Aara hated it.
So she put Jin in the center of it.
Let her wear the Ash name.
Let her spar.Let her move like a girl who'd earned her scars.
The crowd ate it up.
They still didn't know who she was.
But they knew Ash.
And Jin wore that name like armor now.
Later, Haru pulled Aara aside.
"The fight card dropped."
"Who am I up against?"
"Someone named Sori."
Aara blinked.
"Sori… Chae?"
"You know her?"
"I buried her with my fists three years ago.She was the last girl I fought before I disappeared."
"And now she's back. Paid. Rebuilt. Sponsored by DaeCorp."
Aara didn't answer.
Just smiled.
"They really want to bury me again."
"So what's the plan?" Haru asked.
"We give them what they want," Aara said."Blood. Pain. Drama."
She paused.
Then added:
"But we make sure it's their story that dies screaming this time."