The room burned. Flames licked the walls, smoke coiled around the ceiling, and the wooden floor groaned beneath the heat's weight.
Five firemen stood frozen—confused—watching as the room slowly crumbled around two men still seated in their chairs. Unmoving. Unbothered. Unfazed by the inferno.
It wasn't the fire that made them sweat.
Something else burned hotter between those two.
"U-Uh, s-sir..? It's n-not safe out here..."
The captain's voice cracked through the roar of the flame, trembling and unsure.
Then—silence.
Time itself seemed to pause as the fire crept closer... before one of the seated men finally stood.
Ryo.
"Hm... A hero can't really fight like this in front of innocent people,"
He muttered, smiling faintly.
He raised his hand.
Snap.
In an instant, the blaze vanished—swallowed by silence, gone like it had never existed.
The firemen recoiled, shielding their eyes from the sudden gust of wind and heat dispersing all at once.
Then Ryo looked to the man still seated.
"You love to talk alone right?... Ayro-san?"
Gasps followed.
"R-Ryo?! The Flame Hero?!"
"He's with Ayro of Squad 663 too!!"
The captain staggered back, eyes wide.
"What the hell is happening..?"
Meanwhile, on the outside—
"Sir, please let us in!"
Ryujin groaned.
He and Kirashi stood at the front entrance of Hara Sanshin Hospital, blocked by a single police officer.
"Sir! It's not safe right now!"
The officer warned, arms outstretched.
Among the gathering crowd, murmurs began to spread like static through the air.
"Are those... Squad 663?"
"Is that Ryujin?"
"What are they doing here?"
"Let us in! I'm the squad leader of Segment 663! Gifted of Water! Let us in!"
Ryujin snapped, flashing his license.
The officer hesitated, then sighed, reluctantly swinging the gates open.
Back in the SUV, Itoshi stood tense, still biting his nails as anxiety clawed at his chest.
Bjorne sat in the front seat, eyes narrowed and fixed on the hospital gates. His hands gripped the edge of the idling electric engine, every muscle tight.
Sweat streamed down Itoshi's face. His breathing grew shallow, ragged.
Then—
A thud.
The sharp, sudden sound of a door flinging open.
Bjorne's head jerked back. His eyes scanned the rear seat.
Empty.
"Itoshi!"
He yelled, just catching a glimpse of the boy sprinting toward the back of the hospital—door wide open, footsteps echoing against the concrete.
Bjorne threw his own door open and bolted out, just in time to see Itoshi vanish behind the building's outer wall.
Bjorne's face quickly furrowed—frustrated, worried. His jaw clenched as he stared at the corner Itoshi disappeared behind.
But he didn't follow.
Instead, he turned around, marched back to the vehicle, and got inside.
Hands trembling slightly, he gripped the steering wheel once more—firm, steady, locked in place.
Watching. Waiting. Silent.
On the hotel across the hospital. Jayu's eyes slowly fluttered open. A soft moan escaped her lips as her small voice echoed through the dark hotel room.
A faint green glow lit her pale skin. Her emerald eyes blinked open—vision blurry, uncertain—as sunlight crept in through the cracked glass window, touching her lashes.
The glow came from Kara, kneeling beside Tomori, her brows furrowed with focus as she worked tirelessly—determined to heal the wounds that marred her friend's body.
Jayu could hear Kara whisper something faint—barely audible over the distant sirens and creaking glass.
"Tomori-san... sorry it went this way..."
Jayu exhaled weakly and slowly pushed herself into a sitting position on the carpeted floor, her left palm pressed to her head.
"Jayu-chan!"
Kara's voice cracked, startled by the sudden movement.
"Wha–"
That was all Jayu managed to say before her senses fully snapped back.
Her eyes widened. She gasped. Then bolted for the broken glass window.
"Jayu-chan! Wait!"
Kara called out, but couldn't move—Tomori was still lying in her arms, sleeping and injured.
Jayu reached the edge of the shattered window, her breath catching as she took in the scene below.
Sirens blared.
Flames danced in rhythm with rising pillars of black smoke.
Chaos unfolded across the hospital grounds—
And she was frozen.
Speechless.
"Jayu-chan! It's not safe!"
Kara cried out again, voice trembling, as she gently laid Tomori down onto the carpet.
"Hero..."
Jayu whispered, eyes locked on the inferno as Kara rushed toward her.
The flames were gone.
No trace of smoke, no flicker of heat. The air was eerily still.
Ryo stood straight and steady, the inferno he'd conjured now reduced to silence.
He walked calmly toward the captain, a soft smile resting on his face.
"Hello, sir!.. Has everyone gone out successfully?"
He asked, voice gentle.
The captain stiffened, then quickly nodded.
"Y-Yes, sir!"
"Okay..."
Ryo gave a small bow.
"Thank you for your service to the community, sir. I'll take care of the situation now."
The captain waved his hands nervously.
"No, no, no! Not at all!.. You've done most of the job already... And plus.. You do more work as a hero than just us fire fighters.. On that note.. What happened?"
Ryo slowly raised his head.
The warmth in his smile vanished. His expression turned unreadable—quiet, cold.
The captain took an instinctive step back. That one shift in mood had frozen the air.
He didn't speak further.
He couldn't.
Standing before him was something far beyond comprehension—a man who wielded fire like a god might wield judgment.
Without another word, Ryo stepped aside.
He gently closed the door in front of them as the captain and his crew backed out into the hallway, silent and uneasy.
An awkward silence loomed over the firemen in the hallway.
None of them spoke.
They only glanced at one another, eyes darting in quiet panic—each one searching the other's expression for some kind of reassurance or clue.
But the hallway gave them nothing.
Just silence.
On the other side of the door—
"Finally, the hindrances are gone."
Ryo muttered, still facing the door.
"That's 'safely,' to you, Ryo. Not 'successfully.'"
Ayro's voice cut through the ash-stained silence behind him.
Ryo chuckled.
"Is that right?"
His footsteps echoed softly through the crumbling room. The smoke around them thinned—drawn away, dissolved. Above, the blue sky slowly peeked through the cracks in the blackened ceiling.
"So?.. When will they arrive?"
Ryo asked as he stared into the remaining haze, his back still turned to Ayro.
"Who?"
Ayro answered simply.
"You really like to be direct, huh?"
Ryo chuckled again.
"That Blue Flame Mediocre... and your leader."
"You can't touch them."
Ayro's response came without hesitation, arms crossed.
Ryo snickered, amused.
"Ehh?.. Is that so?.. Interesting."
He clasped his hands behind his back, left palm resting atop his right.
"You're trying to prove the prejudice wrong, right?"
Ryo continued.
"Hmm?"
Ayro hummed faintly.
"With that boy who wields a peculiar blue flame... Haha... That way of thinking is so Ryujin... Give it up now. All your efforts will be useless."
"What do you know about Ryujin?"
Ayro asked calmly, not moving.
"Ayro... 18 years old..."
Ryo's voice lowered.
"You met Ryujin in the UKF... Nine years ago. Right?"
Ayro flinched slightly—but didn't speak. He kept his expression level.
"Impressive."
"I've known him far longer, after all."
"He's the living weapon. And I..."
"...I was the flame prodigy. Only me."
Ryo's voice sharpened—full of pride, bitterness, and something else.
"A crimson flame bestowed upon this world..."
"A one and only gift sent by the gods. A hero to change the world."
He paused—then broke into a bitter laugh as he spreads his arms open.
"Only me!.. Not your boy who wielded a blue flame.. It's me who wields a crimson one."
Ayro's eyes were still locked onto Ryo, carefully observing his every move. Even though Ryo's back was turned, Ayro couldn't find an opening.
His gaze scanned the man's stance, breathing, posture—anything that could be exploited—but there was nothing. Not even the faintest flaw.
"In that stance... why can't I find an opening?.. At this rate, a fight is truly inevitable.. Ryujin's water will give us an advantage if it happens... For now, I'll delay him—buy time before he finds Itoshi..."
Ayro lowered his eyes to the cracked floor, his expression tightening as deeper thoughts stirred within him.
"But why?.. Ryo the hero... Why do you see Itoshi as a threat to your reputation?.. Why does this matter so much to you?"
Then, Ryo's voice broke through the silence.
"Look at that... Ayro-san,"
He muttered, a strange calm in his tone.
"The smoke is fading... The light blue sky is entering the room!"
And just like that, the ash and smoke that had shrouded the room began to dissolve completely.
Rays of light spilled into the space, casting long, uneven shadows over the scorched floor and broken walls.
The darkness lifted slowly, and the ruined room opened itself to the world beyond.
Ryo stood at the edge of the fractured wall, framed by the soft blue of the morning sky. His figure was now in full view, bathed in sunlight.
Below, the crowd was visible again—people staring up in confusion and fear, watching the aftermath from a safe distance.
Ryo remained still, hands clasped behind his back, standing like a man preparing to make a declaration.
There was serenity in his stance, but Ayro could feel it—something bitter, something dangerous stirring just beneath the surface.
Ayro's eyes widened as he looked at Ryo, still standing in the light. The calm, commanding presence. The flawless posture. The world seemingly bending around him.
"This is a true hero... a one and only hero,"
Ryo muttered, his voice soft but heavy with meaning.
Outside, someone in the crowd pointed toward the broken window, eyes wide with realization.
"Look! It's Ryo! The hero!"
The man shouted.
Heads turned instantly, drawn to the figure in the destroyed room.
"Where!?"
"Woah! It's him!!"
"He killed that fire in the burning building!"
"He did!!"
The murmurs grew into cheers. Applause spread. Voices shouted in awe and adoration.
Ryo stayed still, his eyes half-lidded as if soaking in every word.
"This is the one that'll save the world,"
He added, as the crowd below chanted his name louder and louder.
"Ryo-san!"
"Ryo-sama!!!"
"Thank you for protecting us!!"
Ayro didn't move. He just watched—quiet and tense—as the man ahead him, once thought of as a hero, let the world bow to his name.
Ryo slowly turned his head toward Ayro, that same amused smirk still resting on his lips.
"So?.. Ayro-san?.. Can't you agree?"
Ayro didn't reply. He simply stared—unflinching, unwavering—meeting Ryo's gaze head-on with silence as his only answer.
Ryo chuckled softly.
"Heh?.. You're as stiff as ever..."
Then, behind the sealed door, muffled voices and urgent thuds began to pierce through the silence.
"Sir! It's not safe!"
The captain's voice rang out, stern and panicked.
A second voice followed—firm, commanding.
"Let us in!"
Ayro and Ryo both turned toward the door.
Ayro remained composed, already anticipating what was to come.
Ryo, on the other hand, smiled wide—eyes filled with confidence and curiosity.
The knocking grew louder. Then—
BANG!
The door burst open.
There stood Ryujin.
His breathing was sharp from the sprint, and tension carved into every line of his face. But the moment his eyes landed on the figure inside—Ryo—his expression shifted.
Surprise washed over him, softening his glare for a heartbeat.
His eyes narrowed, a familiar bitterness returning.
"Tsk... Ryo..."
Ryujin muttered, stepping further into the room.
Ryo casually raised a hand in greeting, waving lazily with his eyes shut with a smile across his cheeks.
"Yo! Ryujin-san... I've heard you've met that traitor recently."
Ryujin ignored the bait. His voice was low and serious.
"What are you doing here, Ryo?"
~~~To be Continued~~~