From Fear to Determination

The classroom buzzed softly as Daigo stepped to the front, the kind of calm authority that made even the noisier students quiet down.

"Alright, everyone. Today's lesson isn't just a lesson—it's a reflection. The chapter heading is: Determination and the Will of a Shinobi. Write it down."

The students quickly copied the title into their notebooks, some whispering the words to each other.

"The main heading," Daigo continued, "is Cycle of a Shinobi. That's what we're exploring—what shapes a Shinobi from the very first step to the choices that define them."

He paused, scanning the room. "The first point… Fear."

"Fear is the starting point. Every Shinobi begins here. It's not shameful. It's not weakness. Fear is natural—it exists in all of us. But the problem begins when fear decides your actions. Recognizing it is the first step toward mastering it."

The students all quickly wrote down the point only—'Fear' in their notebooks.

Then Souta raised his hand.

"Sensei… can you go slowly and repeat it once again?"

Daigo raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Uhhh… aren't we supposed to note it properly?" Souta said, fidgeting slightly.

Daigo let out a short chuckle. "No. Just write the point. Fear. That's all you need right now."

"Amaya, why don't you give a practical example?" Daigo said, after a brief pause.

Amaya rose, moving to the open space near her desk.

"Theoretically, fear is something we feel," she said, "but practically, it shows in hesitation. When you face an enemy or a challenge, the first instinct is to pull back, to doubt yourself."

She looked around the classroom.

"This morning, during the exam, I hesitated on the last step of the practical part. I knew the answer, but my hands froze. That moment… that hesitation? That's fear in action. And if I had let it control me, it could have cost me."

Daigo gave a slight nod. "Exactly. Fear shows itself in every moment where action is required. Recognizing it, and still moving forward, is the first test of a Shinobi's will."

Amaya returned quietly to her seat, and the students kept their pens down, only noting the point 'Fear' in their notebooks.

Daigo glanced over the students and nodded toward Arashi. "Next point—Cowardice. Arashi, you can explain the theory."

Arashi stood up from his seat, walking to the center of the classroom. "Cowardice," he began, "is when fear takes control of your actions. It's not just being afraid; it's letting that fear decide for you. A Shinobi may feel fear, but choosing inaction over action—that is cowardice. It shows itself in hesitation, in avoiding responsibility, and in the small moments where courage is required but ignored."

The students all quickly wrote down the point only—'Cowardice' in their notebooks.

Souta raised his hand again. "Sensei… we just write the point, right?"

Daigo smiled slightly. "Yes. Just the point—Cowardice."

"Alright," Daigo continued, after Arashi had returned to his place, "now let's see the practical side. Ayame, why don't you give an example?"

Ayame rose, stepping forward between the desks. "In practice, cowardice is easy to spot," she said. "For instance, during missions or training, some students freeze when a challenge appears. They don't act—not because they can't—but because acting feels too risky or uncomfortable. When we were practicing strategy drills days ago, I noticed some hesitated to make even small decisions, waiting for someone else to lead. That hesitation, that avoidance, that's cowardice in action."

Daigo nodded once. "Exactly. Theory gives us the definition, but seeing it happen shows why it matters. Recognizing cowardice is the first step toward confronting it."

Ayame returned quietly to her seat, and the students kept their pens down, only noting the point 'Cowardice' in their notebooks.

Daigo turned toward Daichi. "Next point—Giving Up. Daichi, please explain the theory."

Daichi fidgeted with his hands, nervously standing and shuffling a little as he walked to the front. "Uh… giving up," he began, his voice soft and hesitant, "is… um… when someone stops trying… before… before they even finish. It's… it's like… you feel it's too hard, so you just… walk away." He glanced at his classmates, a little embarrassed, then continued quickly. "A Shinobi may face… impossible odds, but… giving up means you never even see if you could have done it. It can happen in small moments… like stopping a plan halfway… or bigger ones… like breaking a promise."

The students wrote down the point only—'Giving Up' in their notebooks, some glancing at Daichi with quiet encouragement.

Daigo nodded gently. "Thank you, Daichi. Now, for a practical example, Haruki, please stand and show us what it looks like."

Haruki strutted forward confidently, a small grin on his face. "Giving up? Oh, that's easy to spot," he said, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. "This morning during the exam, I saw a few students freeze and just give up when a problem seemed tricky. Honestly, I can't blame them—but watching them bail without even trying… that's what giving up looks like. You either push through, or you sit there and hope someone else does it for you. And come on, I always push through."

Daigo's eyes scanned the classroom. "Exactly. Theory tells you what it is, but seeing it happen… shows why it matters. Recognizing giving up in yourself or others is the first step toward never letting it define you."

Haruki returned to his seat with a slight flourish, while Daichi quietly settled back, relieved it was over. The students kept their pens down, noting only the point 'Giving Up' in their notebooks.

The room was still settling from the last point when Hina raised her hand with a mischievous grin. "Oh, see who's talking about giving up—someone here gave up on at least five questions this morning!"

All eyes immediately turned toward Haruki, whose confident grin faltered as his face turned bright red. A few students snickered quietly, trying not to laugh out loud.

Daigo's gaze shifted to the front calmly. "Alright, let's move on. Hina, please explain the next point—Falling."

Hina stood, smoothing her skirt nervously before stepping forward. "Falling… is what happens when someone tries, but even effort isn't enough," she said, her voice steadying as she went on. "It's not just failure—it's the moments when things spiral beyond control. You do your best, and yet you stumble, you make mistakes, you lose… and it hurts."

The students wrote down the point only—'Falling' in their notebooks.

Daigo nodded slightly. "Good. Now for the practical example, Izumi, please stand and show us what it looks like."

Izumi rose gracefully, walking to the small open space in front. "In practice, falling can happen anytime," she said. "During training or missions, you may plan everything perfectly, but something unexpected—an error, a misstep, a bad decision—can make you fail. This morning, many of us made one small mistake that caused us to get the answer wrong. That's falling—trying, but not quite reaching the mark."

Daigo gave a slight nod. "Exactly. Theory tells us the concept, but seeing it happen shows its real impact. Recognizing falling is important, because it teaches us how to rise next time."

Izumi returned quietly to her seat, and the students kept their pens down, only noting the point 'Falling' in their notebooks. Haruki still looked slightly embarrassed from Hina's comment, and a few students stifled giggles behind their hands.

Daigo turned his attention to Kaito. "Next point—Trying Again. Kaito, please explain the theory."

Kaito stood confidently, a faint smirk on his face. "Trying again," he began, "is when you've fallen or failed but decide to stand back up. It's not always easy. Sometimes it's exhausting, sometimes it feels pointless. But a Shinobi who keeps trying, even when it hurts, even when everything seems against them, is the one who grows stronger."

The students quickly wrote down the point only—'Trying Again' in their notebooks.

"Now for the practical side, Misaki, please give an example," Daigo said.

Misaki rose calmly, stepping to the front. "In practice, trying again can happen in small ways or big ones," she said. "This morning during the exam, some students got the wrong answer the first time, but instead of giving up, they attempted it again and corrected themselves. Even a tiny action like that is trying again—choosing not to let failure define you."

Daigo nodded. "Exactly. Theory gives the concept, but seeing it practiced shows how important persistence is. Recognizing the value of trying again is the first step toward improvement."

Misaki returned quietly to her seat, and the students kept their pens down, noting only the point 'Trying Again' in their notebooks.

Daigo turned toward Naoko. "Next point—Perspective. Naoko, please explain the theory."

Naoko stood up, adjusting her glasses before speaking. "Perspective," she began, "is about how people see you. Everyone has their own view, their own judgments. Some may overestimate you, some may underestimate you, some may misunderstand you entirely. A Shinobi must learn not to let others' opinions define them. What matters is staying true to your own path, even if others disagree. At the same time, you can influence how others see you by your actions, by what you choose to show them."

The students quickly wrote down the point only—'Perspective' in their notebooks.

"Now, Raizo, give us the practical side," Daigo said.

Raizo stood confidently and stepped forward. "In practice, perspective shows up all the time. During the drills, some students were judged by others for acting too quickly or too slowly. Those judgments didn't reflect the full situation—they were just each person's perspective. What matters is focusing on the actions themselves, understanding that people may see things differently, and showing through effort and consistency what is truly important. That's perspective in action—acknowledging how others see you, ignoring what doesn't matter, and shaping what can be changed."

Daigo nodded. "Exactly. Theory gives us the idea, but practice shows why understanding and managing perspective is crucial for growth and teamwork."

Raizo returned to his seat, and the students kept their pens down, noting only the point 'Perspective' in their notebooks.

Daigo turned toward Riku. "Next point—Protection. Riku, please explain the theory."

Riku stood, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Protection is about caring for others and being willing to act for their safety. A Shinobi doesn't fight only for themselves. They shield those who cannot defend themselves and take responsibility for the people they value. Protection isn't just physical—it's also about guiding, supporting, and making sacrifices when necessary."

The students quickly wrote down the point only—'Protection' in their notebooks.

"Now, Sanae, please give the practical example," Daigo said.

Sanae rose and stepped forward. "In practice, protection can happen in small ways or large. This morning, after the exam, Haruto stood up to protect Daichi when he was cornered. They didn't have to, but they acted without thinking of themselves, making sure Daichi felt safe. That's protection in action—not always dramatic, but showing care and standing up for someone who needs it."

As Sanae had just given her example of Haruto standing up to protect Daichi, Naoko's expression shifted slightly. It was subtle, but her eyes widened just a fraction—she seemed to understand what had really happened, putting the pieces together in her mind.

Daigo nodded. "Exactly. Theory gives the concept, but practical observation shows how vital protection is in daily actions and teamwork."

Sanae returned quietly to her seat, and the students kept their pens down, noting only the point 'Protection' in their notebooks.

Daigo turned toward Shin. "Next point—Rising Up. Shin, please explain the theory."

Shin stood up, adjusting his posture and speaking clearly. "Rising up is the act of facing adversity after being knocked down. It's not just about standing physically—it's about regaining courage, focus, and determination after failure. A Shinobi falls, makes mistakes, faces setbacks, but rising up is choosing to continue despite all that. It's a sign of resilience, of refusing to let circumstances define you."

The students quickly wrote down the point only—'Rising Up' in their notebooks.

"Now, Souta, give the practical example," Daigo said.

Souta rose and stepped forward. "In practice, rising up can happen in small moments or large," he said. "This morning, during the exam and drills, some students stumbled or failed, but they didn't give up—they got back up and tried again. That willingness to face the next challenge, even after mistakes, is rising up."

Daigo nodded. "Exactly. Theory gives the idea, but seeing it practiced shows why rising up is essential—not just to continue, but to grow stronger after each fall."

Souta returned quietly to his seat, and the students kept their pens down, noting only the point 'Rising Up' in their notebooks.

Daigo turned toward Tetsu. "Next point—Truth. Tetsu, please explain the theory."

Tetsu stood confidently, speaking clearly. "Truth is about acknowledging reality as it is, without hiding from it or twisting it to comfort yourself. A Shinobi must face the truth, even when it's painful or inconvenient. Understanding the truth allows you to act wisely, make informed decisions, and grow stronger. Ignoring it, or pretending it doesn't exist, only leads to mistakes and regret."

The students quickly wrote down the point only—'Truth' in their notebooks.

"Now, Yuna, give the practical example," Daigo said.

Yuna rose gracefully and stepped forward. "In practice, truth can appear in many forms. This morning, some students realized they had miscalculated during the exam but admitted it immediately, instead of covering it up or blaming others. Facing that reality allowed them to correct themselves and learn from the mistake. That's truth in action—acknowledging what is real, accepting it, and using it to grow."

Daigo nodded. "Exactly. Theory provides the concept, but practice shows how important it is to face reality honestly. Recognizing truth and acting accordingly is essential for progress and integrity."

Yuna returned quietly to her seat, and the students kept their pens down, noting only the point 'Truth' in their notebooks.

Daigo closed his notebook and looked over the class.
"The final point in the cycle of a shinobi," he said, his voice steady, "is Determination."

A brief pause followed before his eyes settled on one student.
"Haruto. Come forward."

Haruto stood there for a moment, hands at his sides. He didn't look confident. He didn't look fearless. But when he spoke, there was no doubt in his voice.

"A shinobi isn't someone who was born strong," he said. "If that were true, most of us wouldn't be standing here. A shinobi is someone who keeps moving forward even when everything tells them to stop."

He looked around the room, not searching for approval—just making sure everyone was listening.

"The world we live in is broken. It takes things without asking. It decides who suffers and who survives, and it doesn't explain why. People say that's just how things are… that nothing can change it. That belief is the real enemy."

His fingers curled slightly.

"Fear makes people stop. Loss makes people turn away. Pain convinces them that caring is weakness. That's how shinobi lose their path—not when they fall, but when they decide it's easier to stay down."

He lifted his head.

"A true shinobi keeps walking. Even when the road is dark. Even when the goal feels impossible. Even when protecting others means carrying guilt, scars, and memories that never fade."

Haruto's voice grew firmer.

"Strength isn't about never losing. It's about standing again after you've lost everything you thought mattered. It's about choosing bonds over isolation, resolve over hatred, and action over excuses."

He paused, letting the silence stretch.

"People think changing the world requires overwhelming power. But the world doesn't change because someone is strong. It changes because someone refuses to accept it as it is."

"A shinobi doesn't wait for permission. When something is wrong, they act. When someone is hurting, they stand beside them. When the path forward is blocked, they carve a new one—even if it costs them."

His eyes hardened—not with anger, but with certainty.

"I don't believe in a world where pain decides our future. I don't believe in giving up and calling it realism. And I don't believe that fate is stronger than will."

He took a breath.

"As long as I can stand, I'll keep moving. As long as I can fight, I'll protect. Not because it's easy. Not because it's safe. But because that choice—again and again—is what makes someone a shinobi."

Haruto's voice lowered, but it carried more weight than before.

"And if enough of us choose that path… then even this world can be changed."

Silence filled the classroom.

Haruto bowed his head slightly and walked back to his seat. As he sat down, Amaya leaned toward him, eyes shining.
"Wow… that was really great, Haruto."

Haruto looked away quickly, scratching the back of his head.
"I-it was nothing," he muttered, his ears faintly red.

Daigo was at the front, explaining the lesson in his usual steady tone. Most of the class listened—some seriously, some pretending.

At the back, Hina sat slouched, rolling a small, coin-shaped chocolate between her fingers. The gold foil caught the light every time it spun.

Naoko leaned closer and whispered, "Hina, focus. Sensei's teaching."

Hina smirked. "I am focused."

Naoko glanced at her hand. "That's chocolate. Who are you throwing it at?"

Hina answered casually, "Haruto."

Naoko's eyes widened. "You'll get caught."

Hina ignored her. She lifted her hand and flicked the chocolate forward.

Haruto shifted in his seat at the wrong moment.

The chocolate missed him and tapped lightly against Amaya's shoulder before landing on her desk.

The lesson continued uninterrupted.

Amaya looked down, picked up the chocolate, and turned slowly. Her eyes met Hina's.

Hina stiffened.

Amaya glanced briefly at Haruto, then back at Hina—and calmly unwrapped the chocolate and ate it.

No words. Just a clear message.

Hina slumped. "That wasn't—"

Before she could finish, she straightened again, pulling out another chocolate.

Naoko sighed quietly. "Hina…"

Too late.

The second throw was precise—straight toward Haruto.

But just before it reached him, Amaya's hand moved again and caught it midair.

Haruto blinked. "What was that?"

Amaya closed her fingers around the chocolate and faced forward. "Nothing."

Hina stared for a second… then leaned back in defeat. "I give up."

The bell rang sharply, signaling break time.

The class erupted into motion—chairs scraping, voices overlapping. Haruto stood and stretched, then paused, glancing at Amaya.

"You were moving around a lot just now," he said. "Were you okay?"

Amaya looked at the chocolate still in her hand. After a brief pause, she placed it into Haruto's palm.

"…Now I am," she said.

Haruto smiled, and they joined the rest of the class as the noise filled the room.

Break time buzzed through the room as students moved around freely.

Naoko crossed her arms and turned toward Sanae, her expression sharper than usual. "So," she said quietly, "I heard what happened this morning."

Sanae stiffened. "What are you talking about?"

Naoko leaned in just enough to make her point clear. "Daichi. Don't do that again."

There was no shouting. No drama. Just a warning.

Sanae scoffed and looked away. "I didn't do anything."

Naoko didn't push further. She simply held her gaze for a moment, then turned back. Sanae clicked her tongue, irritated but silent.

A few desks away, Amaya tapped her fingers lightly and glanced at Souta. "With Class 2 here… should we still play?"

Souta grinned without hesitation. "Does it matter? Come on."

He grabbed an eraser and a sharpener, tossing one to Haruto. "You in?"

Haruto caught it. "…Yeah."

The three spread out, crouching behind desks, sliding erasers like kunai, flicking sharpeners with exaggerated seriousness.

"Left side," Souta whispered dramatically.

Amaya smirked. "Too obvious."

Haruto ducked just as an eraser skimmed past him. "Hey!"

From nearby, Sanae watched and scoffed. "Haruki," she muttered, "look at them. Playing like kids."

Haruki glanced over. He didn't answer at first—just watched as another eraser clattered across the floor.

"…Kids look like they're having fun," he said finally.

Before Sanae could reply, Riku and Hina from Class 2 approached.

"Can we join?" Riku asked, eyeing the desks.

Hina leaned forward. "Looks intense."

Souta grinned. "Sure. Pick a side."

As Hina stepped closer, her gaze flicked toward Haruto—only for Amaya's eyes to lock onto her instantly.

The stare was sharp.

"Don't," Amaya said flatly. "Try to pull Haruto."

Hina blinked. "I'm not interested."

Amaya paused, then exhaled. "…Oh. Sorry."

Hina shrugged. "Relax. I'm here to throw stuff."

Souta clapped his hands. "Alright—teams!"

At that moment, Haruki stepped forward, pulling a sharpener from his pocket. "If we're doing this," he said, "I'm not sitting out."

He slid into position, smirking. "Try not to cry."

An eraser flew instantly.

And just like that, the game began—erasers flying, sharpeners clattering, laughter filling the room as desks turned into cover and classmates into shinobi.

For now, it was only play.

For now.

The bell rang, sharp and clear.

Students groaned as they slipped back into their seats—break was over. Conversations died down slowly, chairs scraping as Daigo walked to the front.

"Books out," he said simply.

The next period began like any other. Daigo continued the lesson without wasting a second, writing across the board while the class followed along. Some students listened carefully, some barely did, but the room stayed controlled—his presence made sure of that.

The bell rang, sharp and clear.

Students groaned as they slipped back into their seats—break was over. Conversations died down slowly, chairs scraping as Daigo walked to the front.

"Books out," he said simply.

The next period began like any other. Daigo continued the lesson without wasting a second, writing across the board while the class followed along. Some students listened carefully, some barely did, but the room stayed controlled—his presence made sure of that.

Daigo placed the chalk down and faced the class.

"Since this is a mixed environment," he said calmly, "it's better you understand each other now than later."

A few students straightened. Others exchanged looks.

"Let's begin."

His eyes moved to the front row.

"Amaya—troublesome. You act before you think."

Amaya scoffed lightly but didn't deny it.

"Arashi—a silent observer. Sharp. Smart. Probably the best listener here."

Arashi didn't react at all.

"Ayame—smart. You know when to speak and when not to."

Ayame gave a small nod.

"Daichi—innocent. Nervous. You doubt yourself too much."

Daichi froze, then awkwardly looked down.

"Haruki—loud. Even when you don't need to be."

A few chuckles broke out.

"Haruto—innocent troublemaker," Daigo said, his tone softer. "And… strangely disarming."

Haruto blinked. "Huh?"

"Hina—joyful. Cheerful. You lift the room without trying."

Hina smiled brightly.

"Izumi—a complainer. You question everything, whether it matters or not."

Izumi clicked her tongue.

"Kaito—overconfident. Confidence is good. Yours borders on recklessness."

Kaito smirked anyway.

"Misaki—you overdo things. Passion is useful, excess is not."

Misaki stiffened.

"Naoko—an upstander. Cold on the outside, heated inside."

Naoko's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Raizo—two-faced," Daigo said bluntly. "You hide intelligence behind foolishness."

Raizo laughed. "Ouch."

"Riku—you overthink. By the time you decide, the moment has passed."

Riku swallowed.

"Sanae—you act like you know everything. Always trying to be ahead, even when it's obvious you're stretching it."

Sanae's lips pressed into a thin smile, clearly pretending innocence.

Daigo glanced at the last few students. "Shin—observer. You notice more than you speak."

Shin said nothing.

"Souta—troublesome, but honest."

Souta grinned proudly.

"Tetsu—quick to anger."

Tetsu cracked his knuckles.

"And finally, Yuna—a carer. You look after others before yourself."

Yuna's expression softened.

Daigo straightened. "These traits aren't insults. They're reality. Remember them."

The final bell rang. Students scrambled, chairs scraping. Bags swung over shoulders. Haruto stayed quiet for a moment, his eyes scanning outside the window.

There, on the academy path, stood Renjiro

Haruto dashed out of the academy, completely forgetting his bag. Outside, Renjiro was standing near the entrance. Without thinking, Haruto grabbed his hand and pulled him along, guiding him a little closer to the nearby shop.

"Give me one of those good chocolates your uncle always makes," Haruto said to the shopkeeper, almost breathless. "I'll tell my brother to pay later—just give me one now."

Renjiro blinked, startled. "What the hell just happened?"

"Brother, I'll inform you later. You can pay him, okay?" Haruto didn't wait for an answer. He snatched the chocolate and sprinted back toward the academy, weaving through students, heading straight for the junior section. He couldn't waste a second—the person might leave if he was slow.

Meanwhile, Renjiro paid the shopkeeper and turned, only to find Ayame and Kaito staring at him.

"This is unfair! Brother eating chocolate without us?" Ayame complained, crossing her arms.

Kaito nodded. "Uncle always makes the good ones."

Renjiro handed each of them a chocolate. Without another word, the two started walking home together, leaving Renjiro standing there, still wondering what had just happened.

After paying the shopkeeper, Renjiro followed them at a distance. "So… how was the exam?" he asked, trying to appear casual.

Back in the academy, Haruto stopped in front of a classroom, scanning quickly. His eyes moved across the room until he finally spotted who he was looking for—a young girl, head down on the table, asleep.

"Hey," he whispered, kneeling beside her. "Wake up."

She stirred, yawning and rubbing her eyes. When she saw Haruto, she didn't hesitate. She wrapped her tiny arms around him tightly.

"You finally came, big brother!" she said.

Haruto hugged her back. "C'mon, let's go home, Mimi."

Haruto crouched slightly and lifted Mimi onto his back. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, giggling as they started walking.

"Big brother," she asked, tilting her head, "what made you come here today?"

Haruto paused for a second. "Oh—right. I almost forgot," he said, reaching into his pocket and handing her a chocolate.

Mimi's eyes sparkled. "Wow! Thanks, big brother!"

They soon reached Mimi's house. The door opened, and before Mimi could say anything, Haruto stepped forward and hugged her mother tightly.

"Aunt Mikasa! How are you?" he said happily. "I missed you so much."

Mikasa smiled warmly, patting his back. "I missed you too, Haruto."

They talked cheerfully for a while, laughter filling the room. After some time, Haruto turned to Mikasa and sighed softly.

"Aunt Mikasa," he said, sounding a little upset, "please tell Aka to take us out sometimes. I really want to come to your home… and visit Aunt Sayuri too. It's been so long since I met both of you, but they always say no. and sometimes make your way to our home too"

Mikasa smiled gently and placed a hand on his head. "Yeah… I guess.."

He suddenly straightened up. "Anyway, I gotta go now. I'll see you again soon."

With a quick wave and a smile, Haruto rushed out of the house.

Haruto stepped out of the house, the warmth of laughter still echoing behind him. Suddenly, his eyes widened.

Class 1 is gathering outside!

"Oh no—I gotta gooo!" he said, breaking into a run.

His feet hit the road fast, his thoughts racing. He didn't notice the sound coming from the side until it was too late.

"Haruto—!"

A Cycle brushed against him as it passed. It was fast and the impact was enough to knock him off balance. Haruto staggered, the world tilting violently, before everything went dark.

Haruto staggered, the world tilting violently, before everything went dark.

"Stop!" Shin shouted.

Raizo slammed the brakes and jumped off. "Haruto! Are you okay?!"

Haruto didn't move.

Panic set in instantly.

"We're taking him to the hospital," Raizo said firmly.

Haruto slowly opened his eyes to bright white lights. His head throbbed, wrapped in a bandage.

"…Where am I?" he murmured.

Raizo, sitting beside him, laughed in relief.

Shin asked, "Why are you laughing?"

Raizo said, "Why are you asking who I am?"

Haruto blinked. "I asked where I am."

Raizo froze. "…Oh."

Shin sighed. "You're in the hospital."

Haruto frowned. "I don't remember anything."

They talked quietly for a bit, making sure he was okay. After some time, the doctor allowed them to leave.

Outside the hospital, cool air brushed against Haruto's face. He stretched slightly, still confused.

His eyes then fell on the motorcycle parked nearby.

"…Oh," he said suddenly. "Now I remember."

Raizo looked at him. "Seriously?"

Haruto nodded. "Yeah. Everything."

Raizo smiled. "Good. Then hop on."

Raizo drove, Haruto sat in the middle, and Shin sat behind. Since Haruto had never ridden like this before, excitement rushed through him, his hands gripping tightly as the wind swept past.

"This feels crazy," Haruto laughed.

"This feels crazy," Haruto laughed as the wind rushed past him.

After a moment, he leaned forward slightly and looked around. "I've never seen a cycle like this before."

Raizo smirked. "That's because this isn't a cycle. It's way better."

Haruto blinked. "Huh?"

Raizo pointed toward the side. "See this scroll?" He tapped it lightly. "This scroll generates energy on its own. The motorcycle doesn't need human effort to move."

Haruto's eyes widened. "Wow…"

Shin spoke up from behind, sounding proud but honest. "Still, it's not perfect. Raizo and I are working on it—to make it better."

Haruto smiled. "That's awesome."

Suddenly, his expression changed. "Oh—wait. I need to go."

Raizo glanced back. "Go where? It's just evening."

"Class 1 decided to hang out," Haruto said quickly. "So I gotta go."

Raizo nodded without hesitation. "No worries. Show me the way. I'll drop you at the place where you're meeting."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Raizo replied. "But first, we'll go to your house. Let's have some water, okay?"

Haruto smiled. "Okay."

The motorcycle slowed as they turned onto a familiar street.

Soon, they reached Haruto's house.

Haruto stepped inside the house and slipped off his slippers.

Before he could take another step—

Grab.

"Ouch!" Haruto yelped.

Akari appeared out of nowhere, twisting his ear. "Where do you think you're going, huh?! Why didn't you come home with Renjiro?"

"A-Aka, wait! I can explain," Haruto said quickly. "But I really need to go—I can't be late!"

He tried to dash past her, but Akari narrowed her eyes. "Then how did you get that injury on your head?"

From the sofa, Renjiro looked up sharply. "What? That wasn't there after the academy."

Haruto froze for a second. "I… I'll tell you later," he said, avoiding their eyes.

He rushed into his room, changed his clothes, and then came back with two glasses of water. He handed one to Raizo and one to Shin.

"Thanks," Shin said.

Haruto placed the glasses back in the kitchen, then suddenly turned around and hugged Akari and Renjiro.

"Please… just hope everything will be fine," he said softly.

Akari was startled. Renjiro rested a hand on Haruto's shoulder. "Be careful."

Haruto nodded and hurried back outside, sitting on the motorcycle.

Renjiro watched them leave and muttered, "I've never seen a cycle like that before."

The motorcycle started, and the kids rode off.

After a moment, Haruto spoke up, curious. "Hey, Raizo… can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How did your parents allow you to ride something like this? Isn't it dangerous?"

Raizo's expression changed instantly.

Before he could reply, Shin leaned forward and whispered, "Don't talk about it."

Haruto blinked, realizing he'd crossed a line. "Ah—sorry," he said quickly, changing the topic. "So… how long did it take to build this thing?"

The tension faded. Soon, the three of them were laughing again as the road stretched ahead.

By the time they reached the meeting place, the sun had already set, painting the sky in orange and purple.

Haruto hopped off. "Bye!"

Raizo waved. Shin nodded. The motorcycle disappeared down the road.

Haruto turned and ran toward the group waiting ahead.

"Hey!" he shouted, smiling. "I'm here!"

As Haruto reached the gathering spot, he saw everyone already there—Amaya, Arashi, Ayame, Izumi, Kaito, Souta, and Yuna. Relief washed over him.

Before he could greet them, a familiar hand reached out.

Ayame gently but firmly caught his ear, pulling him a little closer. "You," she said, narrowing her eyes the way only a big sister could, "where were you?"

"Ouch—Ayame," Haruto protested softly.

She leaned in, worry clear on her face. "And what happened to your head?"

"I got bumped into by a cycle," Haruto replied quickly.

Yuna stepped forward, her voice full of concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Haruto nodded. "I'm fine. Really."

Souta glanced around. "Then where's Misaki?"

Arashi answered quietly, "Her father's sick. She's at the hospital with him."

Izumi added, "I don't know how bad it is, but… it seems serious."

Ayame finally let go of Haruto's ear, resting her hand on his shoulder instead. The group fell silent for a moment.

Then Haruto smiled faintly. "Let's enjoy today—for her too."

Everyone agreed.

The eight of them set off together, walking side by side. They laughed, joked, shared food, and talked about small, silly things. The evening air felt lighter as their voices filled it.

For a little while, all that mattered was that they were together.

Before the night ended, all of them stopped by a small shop together.

Without even discussing it much, they bought jackets—nine in total.

"One for Misaki too," Amaya said quietly.

No one argued.

They put the jackets on, standing side by side like a gang, laughing and teasing each other. A passerby helped them take a picture. Afterward, they got it printed nine times, making sure each of them had one copy.

"Even Misaki," Yuna said, holding hers carefully.

With that, the night slowly came to an end.

One by one, everyone headed their own way.

Haruto walked home with Ayame and Kaito, the three of them side by side under the dim streetlights.

As they turned onto their street, Haruto felt it.

He glanced up.

For a brief moment, it felt like someone was watching them from the rooftops.

"…Did you feel that?" Haruto muttered.

Ayame looked around. "Feel what?"

"Nothing," Haruto said after a pause. "Probably just tired."

They reached home and stepped inside.

"Hey," Haruto said lazily, kicking off his shoes. "Aka, Brother Renjiro—do you want the explanation now or tomorrow? 'Cause I wanna sleep… but I'm also hungry."

Ayame crossed her arms. "You just ate."

Kaito pointed at him. "You ate more than I did."

No reply came.

The house was quiet.

Too quiet.

When they entered the hall, it was clear—only the three of them were home.

Ayame spotted a letter on the table and picked it up. "There's a note."

She read it aloud:

Ayame, take care of your brothers.
If anyone feels hungry, food is in the kitchen.
You can sleep.
Renjiro and I will be late—we're in a meeting.
Take care.

The tension eased.

They warmed some food, ate quietly, and soon headed to their rooms.

Haruto lay on his futon.

He shifted.

And shifted again.

His breathing grew uneven.

Though his eyes were closed, his body moved restlessly—
as if trapped in a nightmare he couldn't wake from.

The room remained silent.

But the feeling from earlier…
refused to leave.