2:18 am, Paulo's House
The air in Paulo Satoshi's living room crackled with violence, a storm held in check by a single heartbeat.
Rin Itō, Shin Takahashi, and Alexis Smith stood poised to strike, their shadows merging in the dim glow of the streetlamp bleeding through the curtains.
Mizaki Kirazaka leaned against the wall near the closed front door, her bubble-gum-pink ponytail swaying slightly, violet eyes gleaming with twisted delight.
The word sunducker still hung in the air, Mizaki's childish yet venomous insult designed to unravel Paulo's sanity.
It had worked, partially.
The rumours she had spread, the lies painting him as a predator, had fractured his mind, but they had also forged something sharper. Something lethal.
Paulo stood with his back to the hallway, the collapsible baton spinning in his right hand, its aluminium surface catching the faint light.
His black hoodie concealed the bandages around his bruised ribs, his red hair stark against the shadows of his hood.
His bruised face, swollen jaw, half-shut left eye, was a mask of bruises, but his blue eyes burned with a clarity that bordered on madness.
The pain from the bridge beating was a distant hum, drowned by adrenaline and purpose.
He was not the boy they had thrown into the river.
That Paulo was dead.
This one was a weapon.
Rin cracked his knuckles, his violet-purple hair shimmering, golden eyes narrowed with bloodlust.
"No river to save you this time, sunducker," he snarled, repeating Mizaki's insult like a taunt.
Shin grinned beside him, his 6-foot 3 frame looming, purple hoodie stretched tight, fists like sledgehammers.
Alexis hesitated, his blonde hair peeking from under his green hood, red eyes wide with conflict but fists raised.
Mizaki's laughter was a soft, dangerous melody, her presence a poison that thickened the air.
Paulo's lips curled into a smile, small, sharp, predatory.
"You talk too much, Itō," he said, his voice low, steady, a blade wrapped in silk. "Come on."
He did not wait for them to charge.
Paulo moved first, a blur of motion, his Taekwondo training snapping into gear like a coiled spring.
The baton flashed as he lunged at Rin, the closest and most aggressive.
Rin raised his arm to block, but Paulo was faster, thwack, the baton cracked against Rin's forearm, the same spot he had hit seconds ago when they had first rushed him.
Rin yelped, staggering back, his silver earring glinting as he clutched his arm. A red welt bloomed instantly, bone bruised but not broken.
Shin roared, charging like a freight train, his massive fist aimed at Paulo's head.
Paulo sidestepped, fluid and precise, using Shin's momentum against him.
He pivoted, driving his elbow into Shin's kidney as the larger boy barrelled past.
Shin gasped, stumbling into the coffee table, the black notebook with the list of names skidding across the floor.
The table splintered under his weight, wood cracking like gunfire.
Alexis froze, his hesitation a fatal flaw.
Paulo's eyes locked on him, cold and unyielding.
"You chose this, Alexis," he said, voice barely above a whisper.
Before Alexis could react, Paulo spun, the baton whipping through the air.
It connected with Alexis's thigh, crack, a clean hit to the nerve cluster.
Alexis cried out, his leg buckling, sending him to one knee.
His red eyes were wide with shock, pain, and something else, guilt.
Mizaki clapped, her voice dripping with glee, "Oh, Paulo-Kun! So beautiful! Show them who you really are!"
Paulo ignored her, his focus absolute. The living room was his dojo now, every piece of furniture a tool, every shadow a weapon.
Rin recovered, shaking out his bruised arm, his golden eyes blazing with fury.
"You're dead, Satoshi!" he snarled, lunging again, this time with a low kick aimed at Paulo's knee.
Paulo anticipated it, Rin's kendo training made his strikes predictable.
He jumped, the kick passing harmlessly beneath him, and landed with a spinning back kick to Rin's chest.
The impact sent Rin crashing into the couch, the cushions exploding in a cloud of dust.
Shin was back on his feet, rage overtaking strategy.
He swung a wild haymaker, his reach monstrous.
Paulo ducked, the fist grazing his hood, and countered with a front kick to Shin's gut.
The air whooshed from Shin's lungs, his massive frame doubling over.
Paulo followed with a baton strike to the back of Shin's knee, dropping him to the floor with a thud that shook the walls.
Alexis tried to stand, his thigh trembling, but Paulo was on him in an instant.
He grabbed Alexis's hoodie, yanking him to his feet, and slammed him against the wall.
The impact rattled the framed photo of Paulo's parents, glass cracking.
"You were my friend," Paulo hissed, his face inches from Alexis's. The baton pressed against Alexis's throat, not hard enough to choke but enough to promise it. Alexis's red eyes were wet, his breath hitching.
"I-I didn't mean—" Alexis stammered, but Paulo cut him off with a knee to his gut.
Alexis crumpled, gasping, his hands clutching his stomach.
The fight was chaos, but Paulo was untouched.
His ribs ached, a dull reminder of the bridge, but no new blows landed.
His Taekwondo forms flowed like water, poomsae precision mixed with street pragmatism.
He was faster, smarter, fuelled by a rage that burned colder than ice.
The rumours, Mizaki's sunducker, the betrayal, they were fuel, not chains.
Rin scrambled to his feet, using the couch for support, his chest heaving.
Blood trickled from a cut on his lip, his tank top torn. Shin was on his knees, one hand braced on the floor, the other clutching his knee.
Alexis lay against the wall, barely conscious, his green hoodie stained with sweat.
The living room was a warzone, splintered wood, overturned furniture, the notebook open to Miya's crossed-out name.
Mizaki's laughter stopped. Her violet eyes were wide, her smile faltering for the first time.
"Paulo-Kun," she said, her voice softer now, almost reverent. "You're… perfect."
Paulo turned to her, baton still in hand, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths.
"You wanted a monster," he said, his voice raw but steady, "Look around."
Rin spat blood, forcing himself to stand.
"This isn't over," he growled, his golden eyes wild. He glanced at Shin, who was struggling to rise, then at Alexis, who was out of the fight. "Shin, get up! We end this!"
Shin gritted his teeth, hauling himself up, his knee buckling but holding. "I'm gonna crush you, Satoshi," he snarled, limping forward.
Alexis stirred, his voice a croak. "Paulo… please…"
Paulo's eyes flicked between them, calculating.
Three against one, but they were battered, disorganized.
Rin was the leader, still dangerous. Shin was the tank, slowed but powerful.
Alexis was done, a liability to his own side.
Mizaki was the puppet master, but she would not fight. not physically.
The hallway behind him was narrow, a choke point.
If he could lure them there, he could finish this.
He stepped back, baiting them, the baton twirling in his hand.
"Come on, then," he said, his voice a challenge. "Finish what you started."
Rin charged first, reckless, his fist aimed at Paulo's face.
Shin followed, limping but swinging, his reach a threat. Alexis stayed down, his betrayal complete but his fight gone.
Mizaki watched, her hands clasped, eyes shining with obsession.
Paulo backed into the hallway, the walls closing in, his territory now.
Rin's punch was too wide in the tight space, Paulo blocked it with the baton, the impact jarring his wrist but holding.
He countered with a snap kick to Rin's ribs, the same spot he had hit before.
Rin gasped, doubling over.
Shin's fist came from the side, but the hallway limited his swing, Paulo twisted, the punch grazing his shoulder, and drove the baton into Shin's solar plexus.
Shin wheezed, staggering back into the living room.
The fight was his. Paulo was a whirlwind, untouched, his movements a dance of precision and fury.
Rin and Shin were slowing, their injuries compounding.
The hallway amplified every sound, grunts, thuds, the crack of the baton.
Mizaki's voice cut through, sharp and desperate now.
"Paulo-Kun, stop! You are better than this!"
He ignored her, his focus on Rin, who was back on his feet, blood streaming from his nose.
Shin leaned against the wall, panting, his knee giving out.
The end was close; Paulo could feel it.
One more push, one more strike, and they would break.
Rin lunged again, a last desperate attack, his fist aimed at Paulo's chest.
Shin roared, throwing his weight forward despite his injuries.
Paulo raised the baton, ready to end it, his blue eyes blazing with a fire that was not entirely sane.
Mizaki screamed, "Paulo, no!" but it was not a plea to stop.
It was a warning.
Something shifted in the air, a new presence, a shadow at the edge of Paulo's vision.
The front door creaked, or was it the back? Footsteps, soft but deliberate, echoed from the kitchen. Miya? Someone else? The group chat had more players than he had accounted for.
Rin's fist was inches away, Shin's bulk closing in, and Paulo's baton was raised to strike.
The hallway was a crucible, the fight seconds from its climax.
Who was behind him? What new betrayal waited in the dark?
The baton hung in the air, Rin's fist a heartbeat from impact, Shin's roar shaking the walls.
Paulo was untouched, a god of vengeance in his own home, but the shadows held a secret.
The fight teetered on its end, victory, or disaster a breath away, as a new threat emerged from the darkness.