Sparks of red lightning erupted from the shattered core, crackling across his skin.

  His veins pulsed, his eyes going wild with unrestrained power as his body twitched—jerking unnaturally, muscles infting beyond their natural limits.

  And then, with a guttural roar, he unched forward.

  Watari and Yumi tensed.

  “Oh, that’s not good.”

  ?

  The fight escated.

  Yumi and Watari worked together, weaving between the chaos, their attacks nding harder and faster.

  But no matter how many times they knocked him down—he got back up.

  His movements were erratic. His aura was unstable. The Kuroda Core had pushed his body beyond its limit.

  He wasn’t just fighting.

  He was dying.

  Yumi hesitated.

  She knew what had to be done. She knew the rules.

  But something in her resisted.

  Watari saw it.

  “Yumi, we can’t—”

  The man lurched toward them. His entire body cracked, energy seeping from his skin, his screams turning into raw agony.

  He was beyond saving.

  Yumi exhaled.

  “Damn it.”

  A final strike.

  The fight was over.

  But the weight of it lingered.

  ?

  Later that night, Watari sat outside the stairs of the rooms, staring at his hands.

  “This is how the Musabori does things, huh?”

  Yumi sat beside him, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed.

  “Three years ago, I thought I belonged here.”

  Silence.

  Watari exhaled, rubbing his face.

  “I get it. We had to do it. But… I dunno, Mii-chan. Killing still doesn’t sit right with me.”

  Yumi gnced at him.

  “It shouldn’t.”

  He looked up, surprised by her answer.

  “But we didn’t have a choice,” she continued, her voice quieter now. “That core… it was killing him from the inside out. His Tamashii was out of control. If we left him like that, he would’ve kept rampaging until his body gave out. And when it did—”

  She hesitated, then finished,

  ”—it wouldn’t have just been him that died.”

  Watari swallowed.

  He thought back to the fight, to the way the man’s skin had cracked, his screams turning into something inhuman.

  “You’re saying he could’ve exploded or something?”

  “Yeah. His energy was leaking out in every direction. If we hadn’t stopped him, he would’ve taken out this entire district.”

  Watari let that sink in.

  “Still,” he muttered, “I hate that it came down to that.”

  Yumi turned her gaze to the floor, fingers tightening around her sleeve.

  “Yeah… me too.”

  ?

  Watari studied her.

  The way she spoke.

  The way her usual sharpness softened just a little in this moment.

  This wasn’t easy for her, either.

  He had always seen Yumi as someone who had everything figured out—someone who made hard choices without hesitation.

  But now, sitting next to her, hearing the weariness in her voice, he realized something.

  She was tired.

  Not physically. Not from the fight.

  But from this life.

  And maybe—just maybe—she didn’t want to be here any more than he did.

  A quiet moment passed between them.

  Watari shifted, stretching his legs out in front of him, then gnced at Yumi with a small grin.

  “You know… you look kinda cute when you’re not threatening to stab me.”

  Yumi rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

  “And you look tolerable when you’re not being an idiot.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  He nudged her with his elbow, just lightly.

  She didn’t pull away.

  They sat like that for a moment longer, the weight of the night still lingering between them, but somehow… lighter than before.

  ?

  Finally, Watari exhaled.

  “We keep going, then?”

  Yumi nodded.

  “Yeah. We keep going.”

  With a soft smile toward each other, they slowly departed ways.