Shinjuku Station — Saturday 8 A.M.
The Combat Club looked completely out of place among the suits and neon signs.
Jin wore sunglasses too big for his face, dragging a gym bag that squeaked.
Kei carried a selfie-stick like a weapon.
Rika had a clipboard and a death wish for everyone who spoke.
Aya clutched the first-aid kit like a rosary.
Tomo walked in the middle, hood up, expression unreadable.
A banner hung from the pedestrian bridge:
EAST WARD RUMBLE – INTER-SCHOOL INVITATIONAL
Hosted by the Shinjuku District Athletic Council (…probably).
Kei whistled. "They spelled 'athletic' wrong. Feels legit."
Rika groaned. "We're all going to die."
The Arena
The "arena" was an abandoned shopping mall, gutted and repurposed with ropes, lights, and an audience full of delinquents in uniform jackets.
Drones hovered overhead streaming to thousands.
Jin's eyes sparkled. "Look at this crowd! Bro, we're main event material!"
Tomo: "We're unpaid volunteers."
Aya tugged his sleeve. "Don't joke. These matches get ugly."
He nodded. "Then I'll end it fast."
Rika scanned the brackets on a screen. "Your first opponent—Reiji Koga, East Ward Technical. Nickname: 'Crane.'"
Kei zoomed in on the photo. "Why crane?"
"Long reach, low weight," Rika said. "Counter-fighter. They say he never blinks."
Flash-Cut — Reiji Koga
Somewhere backstage, Reiji wrapped his knuckles in silence.
A girl's photograph sat beside his water bottle—smiling, hair short, hospital wristband visible.
He whispered, "Just one more win, Hina. Then I can pay for the next operation."
The sound of tape ripping echoed like ritual prayer.
Backstage — Hoshino Team
Kei had somehow acquired a megaphone. "Gentlemen and ladies! Operation Eraser 2.0 begins—"
Rika snatched it. "Operation Silence Begins."
Aya finished taping Tomo's wrist. "You don't have to carry everyone's expectations."
He smiled slightly. "I know. I just don't want to drop them either."
Jin nudged him. "Bro, when you win, we're getting ramen. Real ramen. None of that cup stuff."
Tomo: "Motivation unlocked."
Arena Lights Drop
Announcer's voice boomed through static.
"First Bout! Reiji 'Crane' Koga of East Ward Technical versus Tomo 'The Eraser' Kisaragi of Hoshino High!"
Crowd roared.
Flashes like lightning.
Koga stepped from his corner—tall, wiry, expression calm as meditation.
Tomo rolled his shoulders once, eyes half-closed.
Aya whispered, "He looks focused."
Rika: "He looks dangerous."
Round One
The bell clanged.
Koga didn't rush; he flowed—arms extended, body weaving like a metronome.
His jab sliced air, not sound.
Tomo leaned back; the glove missed by millimeters.
Kei whispered into his mic, "Observation #34: I'm terrified."
Koga's next strike landed light against Tomo's cheek—testing distance.
Then he stepped away again, smile polite.
"You move quiet," he said.
Tomo: "Trying not to wake anyone."
The crowd laughed. Koga didn't.
He lunged, elbow snapping like a whip; Tomo blocked, pivoted, countered.
Thud.
For a second, neither moved.
Rika muttered, "He's baiting him—waiting for a mistake."
Aya held her breath.
Tomo feinted left, drew a counter right.
The world narrowed to heartbeat and breath.
Koga slipped—barely—and smiled. "Good. You're not lucky."
Tomo exhaled. "You're not either."
The bell ended round one.
Break
Jin shoved water at Tomo. "You're even! Bro, that's, like, not dying!"
Tomo: "High praise."
Kei: "He's reading your rhythm. Change tempo."
Rika: "Do not listen to Kei."
Aya adjusted his tape. "He's different, isn't he?"
Tomo: "Yeah. He's fighting for something."
Round Two
The bell rang again.
This time Koga moved first—fast. His punches came like precision clockwork.
Tomo ducked one, two, caught the third on his forearm, slipped right, landed a short hook.
Koga's lip split, but he smiled. "Nice."
He pivoted, answered with a counter uppercut that brushed Tomo's chin.
Pop.
Tomo staggered half a step. The crowd gasped.
Aya's hand flew to her mouth.
Koga whispered, "That one's for Hina."
Tomo blinked. "Then this next one's for you."
He stepped in, shoulders turning, the motion smooth as breath—
—but stopped just before impact, glove hovering an inch from Koga's face.
Koga froze.
Everyone did.
Tomo said quietly, "You've already won what matters. Don't break it."
The bell rang again.
Aftermath
The referee hesitated, then raised Tomo's hand. "Winner—by decision—Combat Club's Kisaragi!"
Crowd erupted. Koga nodded once, breathing hard.
"Guess you fight for something too," he said.
"Still figuring out what," Tomo replied.
They bowed to each other. Respect, not rivalry.
Backstage
Rika bandaged his cheek. "You could've ended it."
Tomo: "He didn't need more damage."
Kei: "Mercy—The Eraser's secret brand identity."
Jin: "Bro, ramen time?"
Aya smiled faintly. "He's smiling. That's rare."
He was. Just a small one.
Later — Neon Streets of Shinjuku
The team walked past glowing signs, tired and happy.
Jin carried leftover noodles; Kei narrated into his phone.
Rika tried not to trip over them.
Aya fell into step beside Tomo. "You held back again."
He looked up at the skyline. "Because if I hit him for real, I'd stop feeling sorry for anyone."
She smiled sadly. "Then maybe the next one should make you stop."
Thunder rolled far off, faint but close enough to promise more.
Elsewhere — An Office Above the Mall
A man in a sharp coat watched the replay on a tablet.
Scar over his eyebrow, eyes like glass.
"The Eraser," he murmured. "Interesting."
He turned to a shadowed figure behind him. "Get ready. If he shows up again, I want to see how far he falls."
[END OF CHAPTER 7 — "The East Ward Rumble"]