They left at 11:00 pm.
The night was cold.
The river smelled of diesel and wet stone.
The bridge lights flickered, casting long shadows that danced like ghosts.
Paulo and Mizaki walked the centre span hand in hand.
To anyone watching, they were just a couple out for a late-night stroll.
Marina was already in position, a dark silhouette against the warehouse roof.
Shizuka's drone buzzed overhead, silent as a moth.
***
at 11:57 pm.
Headlights cut through the dark.
A black van, same make as the one from school, pulled onto the bridge and stopped twenty meters away.
Riku stepped out first. Then Nijako.
Then four more figures, tall, broad, moving with the synchronized grace of people who had trained together since childhood.
Satoshi enforcers.
Riku spread his arms, "You brought the girl. How romantic."
Paulo stopped ten meters away. Mizaki's hand tightened in his.
"Let's make this quick," Paulo said. "What does Takeshi want?"
Riku's smile was a blade. "You. Alive. Compliant. And her—" he nodded at Mizaki, "as collateral. The family's worried you are… compromised."
Nijako stepped forward, holding a small black case. "We just need a blood sample. To make sure you are still one of us."
Paulo's laugh was soft. "You think I'd let you stick me with a needle?"
"It's not a request," Riku said.
The four enforcers fanned out.
Mizaki whispered, "Now?"
Paulo squeezed her hand once.
Marina's voice crackled in their earpieces, tiny comms Shizuka had lifted from her dad's clinic. "I've got eyes on all six. Say the word."
Paulo raised his voice. "You want my blood? Come take it."
Riku sighed. "Last chance, cousin."
He nodded.
The enforcers moved.
Fast.
But not fast enough.
Marina's first dart took the leftmost man in the neck.
He dropped like a puppet with cut strings.
Shizuka's drone swooped low, releasing a cloud of capsaicin mist. The second enforcer screamed, clawing at his eyes.
Mizaki yanked Paulo sideways as Nijako lunged, steel shuriken flashing.
Paulo twisted, baton extending with a snap.
He caught her wrist, pivoted, and sent her sprawling into the guardrail.
Riku was already running, a collapsible asp in his hand.
Paulo met him centre-span.
Steel met steel.
Sparks flew.
Riku was good, better than Rin, better than Shin.
But Paulo had fought for his life in a hallway slick with his own blood.
He knew how to bleed and keep moving.
He feinted high, struck low.
The baton cracked against Riku's knee.
Riku roared, swung wild. Paulo ducked, drove his shoulder into Riku's chest, and flipped him over the railing.
Riku caught the edge with one hand, dangling above the black water.
"Paulo!" he snarled. "You can't—"
Paulo stomped on his fingers.
Riku fell.
The splash was swallowed by the river.
Nijako was back on her feet, green eyes wild. "You bastard—"
Marina's second dart took her in the thigh. She staggered, went down hard.
The remaining enforcers hesitated.
Shizuka emerged from the service hatch, a taser in each hand. "Drop your weapons."
They dropped.
Paulo stood in the centre of the bridge, chest heaving, baton dripping river water. Mizaki came to his side, her hand finding his again.
Marina rappelled down from the warehouse, landing cat-soft.
Shizuka zip-tied the unconscious enforcers with practiced efficiency.
Sirens in the distance.
Someone had called the cops.
Paulo looked at the black van. The driver was gone, fled the second the darts started flying.
He opened the back doors.
Inside were duffel bags.
He unzipped one.
Cash. Bricks of it. Passports. A satellite phone.
And a single photo, Paulo, age ten, standing between Uncle Takeshi and a woman with red hair and kind eyes. His mother.
On the back, in Takeshi's handwriting:
You were never the spare. You were the future. Come home.
Paulo closed the bag.
Mizaki touched his arm. "What now?"
He looked at the river. Somewhere down there, Riku was swimming or drowning. Either way, the message had been delivered.
"Now," Paulo said, "we send one back."
He took the satellite phone, dialled a number from memory.
It rang twice.
"Paulo," Takeshi's voice was gravel and smoke. "You got my gifts."
"I got your ultimatum," Paulo said. "Here's mine. I am staying. Sakura High. My life. My rules. You want me? Earn it."
Silence. Then a low chuckle. "You've got your mother's fire. And your father's stupidity."
"Tell Riku and Nijako to stay away from my friends. Or next time, I won't aim for the water."
He hung up.
The sirens were closer now. Red and blue lights painted the bridge.
Paulo turned to the girls, "We've got maybe three minutes."
Marina was already moving, wiping down surfaces.
Shizuka dragged the enforcers into the van. Mizaki pocketed the cash bricks, evidence, she said.
Paulo took one last look at the river.
Then he took Mizaki's hand, and they ran.
They split at the west end of the bridge. Marina and Shizuka took the van, Shizuka had a cousin with a junkyard.
Paulo and Mizaki melted into the side streets, hoodies up, moving fast.
By the time the police arrived, the bridge was empty except for a single origami crane stuck to the guardrail with a drop of blood.
Back at Paulo's house, they counted the cash.
Three million yen.
Enough to disappear.
Enough to fight.
Mizaki bandaged the cut on his knuckles. "Your family's not going to let this go."
"I know."
Marina cleaned her tranq gun. "We need allies. Real ones."
Shizuka was on her laptop, hacking the school's security feeds. "I can loop the footage. Make it look like a gang thing. No faces."
Paulo watched them, his army of three.
He thought of Miya, somewhere out there, running or hiding. Of Alexis, broken and silent. Of Rin and Shin, alive but ruined.
He thought of the Satoshi crest on the envelope.
Then he looked at Mizaki, her violet eyes fierce in the lamplight.
"I'm not running," he said. "Not anymore."
She smiled, slow and dangerous. "Good. Because I'm just getting started."
Outside, the cherry blossoms were gone. But spring was coming.
And with it, war.
But this time, Paulo wouldn't be fighting alone.
He had a queen.
He had knights.
And he had a board where every move was his to make.
The Satoshi heir had come home.
Just not the home they expected.