The sky had bruised itself purple by the time the final bell rang. Clouds pressed low over the city, heavy and breathless, the kind that promised rain but never mercy.
Haruto walked a few paces ahead of them, unaware of the quiet footsteps that followed. Suki's voice was a nervous whisper."Are we really spying on him?"Aoi's reply was tight."We're watching. There's a difference."Ryuzí didn't speak; his focus never left Haruto's back.
They trailed him past the vending machines, past the cracked fence where grass pushed through the concrete. The air there always smelled like rust and dust—old violence waiting to be remembered.
Laughter floated out before they turned the corner. Three silhouettes leaned against the wall. Shaun's voice cut through the air, lazy and cruel."Look who decided to show up."
Haruto stopped. His shoulders rose once, then fell."I don't have time for this."
"We weren't asking," Daichi sneered. "You skipped our little chats all week. Thought we'd catch up."
The sound of a bag hitting the ground. Then the shuffle of shoes.
Suki flinched. "Ryu, they're—""Wait," Ryuzí murmured. "Just… wait."His jaw was tight; he was watching Aoi, not the fight.
Aoi's eyes had gone glassy. Her hands were fists at her sides, trembling with each impact she heard.
"Say something, artist," Shaun taunted. "Still think you're better than us?"
Aoi took a step forward. Another. Suki reached for her sleeve but she shook him off.
When Shaun lifted his hand again, something metallic clattered near the fence—a forgotten bat from gym storage, its handle slick with rain.
Aoi's fingers closed around it. She didn't hesitate. She swung.
Aoi's hand hovered in the air for a second before she saw it—the bat lying by the fence, half-buried in rainwater.
She didn't think; she moved.
The bat whistled through the air, cutting the rain in two.
A crack split the air—wet, heavy, wrong—echoing louder than the rain itself.
The sound hit like thunder in a tunnel, echoing back against the brick.It wasn't just a sound; it was a full-body jolt, something that made even the air flinch.
Shaun staggered, the alley swallowing his gasp as the sound bounced between the walls.
The vibration shot through her palms, numbing her fingers; the handle almost slipped from her grasp.
Shaun's knees buckled, his balance gone, eyes wide with disbelief.
For a heartbeat, Aoi felt the shock in her wrists and in her stomach—like she'd swung straight through the world.
She didn't stop—her breath ragged, her shoulders jerking forward as she swung again, wider this time.
She swung again, the motion jerky and furious.
Rain sprayed off the bat in silver arcs, spattering the wall behind them.
He stumbled sideways; water splashed beneath his shoes, mixing with something darker.Her hair clung to her face, wet strands sticking to her cheek as she raised the bat higher.
The others froze, breath caught halfway between shock and fear, their shoes squeaking against the slick concrete.
The echo faded into an awful quiet.
Even the rain seemed to hesitate, pattering softly, like it was afraid to touch them. No one breathed; no one moved.
The world just… stopped. Aoi's breath hitched; her knuckles white around the bat, heartbeat hammering in her ears.
Aoi could smell rust and rain, sharp and metallic. The bat felt heavier now, almost alive in her grip.
She saw Shaun's reflection in the puddle at her feet—distorted, shivering—and for a second, she didn't recognize herself either.
The rain began to fall harder, turning everything slick and glimmering as the echo dissolved into the storm.
The alley cracked open with the sound. Shaun stumbled, disbelief flashing across his face before anger tried to crawl back in."What the—who even—"
Another swing. Harder.
Daichi and Riku froze. They didn't run; they couldn't. The chill crawled up their spines, pinning them in place. Their mouths hung open, but no sound came out.
Suki was shouting now, voice breaking between panic and disbelief."Aoi! Stop! You'll kill him!"
She didn't hear him. Her breaths came out ragged, like sobs swallowed by rage. Her eyes blazed—cold, bright, unrecognizable. Each swing seemed heavier than the last, as if the weight of every bruise on Haruto's body had passed into her arms.
Haruto watched from the ground, half-upright, vision swimming. The shock was worse than pain. He wanted to reach her, to stop her, but his limbs wouldn't move.
Inside his head the thoughts tumbled, frantic, broken:They know now. They'll hate me. I've dragged them into this. More rumors. More whispers. More eyes.
A hit landed again. The bat slipped; it rang against the pavement, spinning.
Aoi stood over Shaun, chest heaving, her hair plastered to her face with rain and sweat. Her hands trembled but her eyes didn't waver."Touch him again," she whispered, voice shaking, "and I swear I'll finish it."
Shaun didn't answer; his breath came in short, wheezing bursts. The other two finally blinked out of their trance, stumbling backward until their spines hit the wall.
Suki moved first, stepping between Aoi and the fallen bat."Aoi—hey—look at me. It's over."
She stared past him, through him, the rage still boiling under her skin. "He was hurting him.""We know," Suki said, softer now. "But you can stop."
Ryuzí crouched beside Haruto. "Can you stand?"Haruto blinked, eyes glassy. "You shouldn't have seen this."
"We see it now," Ryuzí answered quietly. "And it's not your fault."
Haruto shook his head, voice small. "It always becomes my fault."
The rain finally broke, heavy and cold. It washed the dust into streaks down the walls, spreading dark stains beneath the bat.
Aoi dropped to her knees, palms pressed to the wet ground. The sound of rain swallowed her shaky breaths. "I didn't mean—"
Suki crouched beside her, his usual brightness gone. "You protected him. That's all anyone will remember."
But Haruto heard the echo of Shaun's laugh anyway, the kind that always promised more. He could already imagine the stories that would crawl through the school by morning:Quiet kid starts fight. Girl loses control. Blood on the floor.
He pressed a hand to his ribs, the sting reminding him that he was still here. Still a problem.
Aoi finally looked up. "Haruto…"He met her gaze; her eyes were wide, wild, red-rimmed. "You shouldn't have done that."
"He deserved it," she whispered.
"Maybe. But now we're all in it."
No one moved for a long moment. The other boys—still frozen—looked smaller than before, drenched and pale. The fear in their eyes wasn't of Aoi anymore; it was of what they had just witnessed inside themselves.
Ryuzí rose slowly, his expression unreadable. "Pick him up," he said to them. "And leave."They obeyed without a word, dragging Shaun upright and stumbling down the alley, the rain masking everything they left behind.
Suki's voice trembled as he spoke. "Ryu… what now?""Now?" Ryuzí glanced at the sky. "Now we make sure he doesn't fall apart."
Haruto gave a thin, humorless laugh. "Too late for that."
Aoi reached out, fingers hovering near his sleeve but not touching. "I'm sorry."He didn't answer. He couldn't.
They stood there together until the rain turned the world into silver noise—four figures in an alley that suddenly felt too small to hold the weight of what had happened.
And when Haruto finally spoke, his voice was quiet enough that only the rain truly heard it:"This will never stop, will it?"
Ryuzí looked at him, steady. "Not unless we make it."