"Seems like our battle is gonna have a little bit of a pause."
Roger lowered his phone, the faint glow on his drenched face vanishing as the call cut.
Rain poured heavier, pelting the ground in rhythmic bursts, washing the smell of smoke and ozone into the air.
For a brief moment, no one moved. The park—once a battleground—fell eerily quiet, the only sounds the crackle of dying embers and the relentless downpour.
Ryujin stood unmoving, water streaming down his jaw. Beside him, Ayro's hand twitched near his blade, and Itoshi's flames hissed out under the rain, leaving only faint steam curling at his fingertips.
Something in Roger's tone had shifted. The easy confidence was gone, replaced by a cold, detached quiet that didn't belong to a man playing games. It was the silence of someone who'd just heard something irreversible.
"Roger... what did they order you to do?.."
Ryujin's voice was low, carrying through the storm like a growl beneath the thunder.
Roger didn't answer right away. He kept his eyes on the ground, as though thinking, then gave a small, humorless laugh.
"Heh... Guess it doesn't matter now."
The words were casual, but the way his shoulders tensed betrayed something deeper—something that didn't sit right even for him.
Then he looked up, grin returning, forced but still sharp.
"Anyway... seems like our little show might have to end sooner than expected."
He pocketed his phone, raised a hand toward them, and smirked.
"So... are you guys still planning to fight me with just the two of you?"
Ryujin's eyes narrowed.
Ayro froze.
Itoshi's breath hitched.
The words hit harder than any blow—they weren't supposed to be known. Their backup plan, the formation they had whispered before the fight began, the timing they'd set—it was all out in the open.
Roger knew.
He wasn't just reading their movements—he was inside their plan.
"He knows it's me?.."
Itoshi's thoughts raced. He hadn't told anyone outside the squad.
"He probably thinks it's me..."
Ayro muttered quietly, his tone uneasy.
The rain thickened, almost as if nature itself was tightening the air around them. Steam rose from the ground, mixing with fog, until every breath they took felt heavier than the last.
Amidst the chaos, a lone girl walked along the road leading to Shioizaki Park, her steps quiet against the storm's roar. A hoodie draped over her head and an umbrella held close shielded her from the relentless downpour.
Her left hand comfortably sat in the warmth of her hoodie pocket in the rain, a small gesture of ease in contrast to the turmoil around her. She moved with calm indifference, untouched by the tension crackling just beyond the rain, like a whisper threading through the storm.
Soft, steady, echoing through puddles.
When she reached the park's edge, she paused. Her eyes—cold but curious—scanned the scene before her: four figures standing amid the storm, each locked in silence.
She took out her phone. A flash of light briefly cut through the rain as she snapped a photo.
The faint glow illuminated her face—gray hair blending into streaks of pink and cyan, eyes flickering like distant sunsets. She blew a bubble of gum, which popped softly before she spoke.
"Even in the rain, huh?"
Her voice was quiet, but it carried—just enough for Ayro to catch.
Ayro turned, eyes narrowing as he caught the faint shimmer of her phone through the fog.
"What the heck..."
He murmured.
But before he could take a step forward, Roger's voice snapped the tension back like a whip.
"Aren't you guys gonna help your buddies? You know... I ain't gonna do anything while you turn your back on me."
The mocking tone came light and playful—but beneath it was sharpness.
He took a slow step forward, water splashing under his boots, and grinned.
"Oh no! Ryujin-kyun! You don't trust me anymore?! It's only been a year or two?~"
"You betrayed the defense. That instantly makes you untrustworthy."
Ryujin's reply came calm and firm, cutting through the rain.
"No no... I didn't mean it that way!"
Roger raised his hands mockingly, as if surrendering.
"Tsk... Ryujin-kyun, loyal as heck to the defense as always... Forget about the organizations we work for. Don't you trust me as a person? As an ex-partner? Or... a friend?"
The smile that followed wasn't friendly. It was tired—almost bitter.
"Come on now... Did you only trust me because we were in the same squad?"
Ryujin didn't move.
"What the hell are you yapping about..."
His mind hissed.
"None of that matters to you, huh? Ryujin, cold as ever..."
Roger's grin widened.
"If you're still stuck in that mindset, it means you only trust your current squad because they're on your side for now. But what if that changes? What if..."
Roger's tone softened to a whisper that forced everyone still.
"What if one of them leaves? For a selfish reason. For family. For survival. Would that make them your enemy too?"
Ayro's fingers twitched near his sword. Itoshi looked away.
"Ah, that's what he's tryna do."
Ryujin's jaw locked tight.
"What if they suddenly left the defense? Whatever the reason, just the act of leaving would make them your target, wouldn't it?"
Roger's voice dripped with venom. He paced slowly in a half-circle around them, lightning flickering behind his grin.
"You talk about loyalty, Ryujin... but deep down, you only trust them because they're useful to you right now."
"Cut the bullshit. Traitors are instantly my enemies. Are we just gonna talk here, or are we gonna fight?"
Ryujin's words sliced through the rain, tone final.
Roger laughed—hard, cracked, almost unhinged.
"Hah! You've just proven my point!"
His laughter echoed through the park.
"You're using their trust to chase your selfish dream!"
The thunder rolled above them as his voice grew louder, filled with a strange, manic glee.
"By the time you're done with them, you'll dispose of them! You're already on a different squad, but you still see everyone as expendable! When they're at their weakest—you'll leave them behind, just like me! You're a true demon, Ryujin!"
The rain hammered down, and for several seconds, the world was soundless again.
"Expendables?..."
Itoshi's voice came small, uncertain.
Roger turned his gaze toward him. A smile curved across his lips, cold and deliberate.
"That's right... he forced you into the squad, didn't he? That flame of yours—your strength—he saw it and claimed it for himself.
He paused, as his smile grew bigger.
"Can't you see? He's not protecting you. He's using you."
Itoshi's breath shook.
"He'll take everything from you. Everything that makes you who you are. Every move, every word, every battle—he'll shape it to fit his climb. And when you're no longer useful, you'll be nothing but another discarded ember."
Roger's voice softened, almost kindly.
"I once heard from a great man in the defense... It's really easy to take away the freedom of young folks."
The words slipped into the rain like poison—slow, invisible, and deadly.
And this time, Ryujin didn't respond.
He simply looked up, eyes shadowed beneath the storm, jaw trembling—not with fear, but with something far worse.
~~~To be Continued~~~