Screech! Roar! Thud!
Tokyo Station. Late morning. The express line from Narita pulled in with a metallic groan, brakes hissing as the platform filled with footsteps and baggage wheels.
"C'mon, Sena — he's gotta be here by now."Mamori scanned the crowd, standing on her toes, one hand above her eyes like a visor.
Sena, already flustered, checked his phone. "Relax, Mamori-neechan. He's probably getting his bags or something…"
"He said ten-thirty."
"It's ten-thirty-three."
"…He's late."
Sena sighed. "He's always late."
Then—
"Yo!"
A familiar voice. Deeper than they remembered, but unmistakable.
They both turned.
A figure stepped through the crowd with a duffel bag over one shoulder and a passport sticking out of his jacket pocket. Even in a plain school uniform, he stood out — tall, broad-shouldered, lean muscle across his frame like it had been carved into place. 6'2", maybe 6'3", but he moved without effort. Balanced. Confident. The kind of person people noticed, even if he didn't ask them to.
"Alex!" Mamori lit up, jogging toward him.
He smiled — calm, easygoing — and pulled her into a hug that lifted her off the floor for a second.
"Haha—put me down, you idiot," she laughed, pushing against his chest.
He did.
Sena stepped forward with a sheepish grin.
"Hey, Alex. Long time…"
Alex looked down at him, then smiled — not wide, but warm. "Still short, huh?"
"Still smug," Sena muttered, but took the handshake.
Their palms met — and instantly Sena's fingers felt like they were gripping a steel rod wrapped in skin. He blinked. Alex didn't squeeze. He didn't need to.
"Good to see you, man," Alex said. "You haven't changed a bit."
They walked out into the street together. Mamori was still watching him sideways — not suspicious, just… studying.
"You've grown."
"You haven't," Alex teased.
"You didn't tell us you got jacked. You used to cry when we played tackle football."
"I was ten."
"You were a wimp."
"I'm still a wimp," he said.
Mamori rolled her eyes. "You broke that airport guy's hand just shaking it."
Alex shrugged.
Sena glanced at him again. The casual walk. The steady voice. Something had changed.
Not just his size. Not just his strength.
There was a weight to him now. Like something underneath was… held back.
And Sena, who'd spent the last few months being chased, tackled, blocked, and screamed at in every direction by Hiruma's Devil Bats…...suddenly felt like a kid again.
"So," Mamori said, clearing her throat. "First stop — home. Then tomorrow, Deimon High."
"You registered me already?" Alex asked.
"Of course I did," she said.
"Figures."
Sena glanced at him. "You planning to join a club or anything?"
Alex didn't answer right away. He looked up — toward a billboard overhead, advertising Japan's upcoming high school football championship.
Then back at Sena.
"Not sure yet," he said.