The evening was strangely quiet. A stillness hung in the air, heavy and unsettling. Asuka felt it in her bones—something was going to happen tonight. Something that must be stopped, no matter the cost.
She glanced at the ticking wall clock. Time was slipping through her fingers like sand. Without wasting a second, she slipped on her jacket and began walking swiftly toward Shinichiro's bike shop, her mind racing with dread.
Meanwhile, at the shop…
"Shinichiro, can you fix my Hawky-maru? It got damaged during the fight," Manjiro said, brushing dust from his torn sleeves.
Shinichiro looked up, and before Manjiro could process what was happening, he was pulled into a tight hug.
"You're alright… I did it…" Shinichiro whispered, his voice trembling with relief. "I'm so happy you're okay."
Manjiro blinked, confused. "Something happen, Shinichiro?"
"N-No… Nothing happened at all," Shinichiro said, quickly releasing him and forcing a smile.
But the sparkle in his eyes dimmed momentarily. He remembered. The timeline had shifted. He had time-travelled. Again.
Where is Asuka? he wondered, glancing around the shop.
"I'll be going now," Manjiro said with a soft wave before walking out.
Shinichiro sat down quietly, his thoughts flooding in. Memories of what Asuka told him, and the old man he had killed, suffocated his chest. The guilt clawed at him. He couldn't sit still. He had to see for himself.
He walked aimlessly, feet dragging him toward that all-too-familiar bridge. The place he jumped. The place where he had given up.
Now he stood under it once again.
"I think he really died…" he murmured, sitting down against the concrete pillar. "I'm such a terrible person. That man… he didn't deserve it."
Tears slipped down his cheeks silently. He had saved Manjiro… but at what cost?
Elsewhere, across town…
In a dimly-lit restaurant, Keisuke and Kazutora sat at a corner table, eyeing Shinichiro's shop from afar.
"You see that shop?" Kazutora said, pointing subtly. "That's where the CB250T is."
Keisuke looked uneasy. "Are you sure about this? You know Mikey would never want this…"
Kazutora leaned in, eyes gleaming. "Just imagine it, Baji. Mikey, riding that bike… he'd look so damn cool."
"And who is even going to tell Mikey, kazutora said."
"We are not that rich so our only option to get a bike is either someone older than us give it to us or we steal it kazutora said."
Keisuke paused, hesitation flickering in his eyes before he nodded slowly. "Alright…"
2:30 AM. Outside the shop.
The street was dark, only the occasional streetlamp casting light. The boys stood silently, hearts pounding.
Kazutora quietly taped the shop window, muttering, "No noise... just a clean crack."
As he lifted the tool, preparing to break the glass—
Tap. Tap.
A hand landed on their shoulders.
Their blood ran cold.
"You know," a calm, deep voice said from behind, "good boys are supposed to brush their teeth before bed."
Keisuke froze. Kazutora spun around, weapon trembling in his hand.
There stood Asuka, arms crossed, eyes burning with fury and disappointment.
Before words could be exchanged, Kazutora, panicking, snatched the weapon from Keisuke and swung at her with trembling hands.
SWOOSH.
Asuka dodged effortlessly. The attack had no precision—just fear.
Without missing a beat, she retaliated with a sharp punch that sent Kazutora stumbling back, blood dripping from his lip.
She then turned on Keisuke, grabbing his collar.
"What were you thinking, Keisuke?" she barked. "Did you forget everything I taught you? Everything we stand for? Everyone waiting at home?"
Tears welled up in Keisuke's eyes. He couldn't even speak. The weight of shame crushed his chest.
Kazutora muttered, "It's Mikey's fault… we shouldn't be punished… it's all his fault…"
Asuka turned to him slowly. "What did you just say?"
Kazutora snapped. "You think you understand?! You think everyone's life is as easy as yours?! I don't have a loving family. I don't have friends. I don't have anything! You don't get it!"
Asuka's expression softened for a moment, before she reached forward, gently pulling the weapon from his hand and throwing it aside.
"Kazutora," she said quietly, her voice filled with conviction, "I'm not saying your pain isn't real. I'm not saying your life has been easy. But carrying it all alone, letting it turn into hate… that won't fix anything."
Kazutora's breathing slowed.
"And you're wrong," she continued. "You do have someone. Look at Keisuke. He's your friend. The kind who won't ever leave you—no matter what you do."
She paused, eyes warm and sincere. "You can start again. With us."
Kazutora looked down at Keisuke, still curled up, crying. His heart twisted with guilt.
Asuka placed a hand on his shoulder.
"And this shop?" she said gently. "It belongs to Manjiro's big brother. That bike? It's a gift. You don't have to steal it. You just have to be there when Manjiro needs you."
Kazutora's eyes widened.
"And if you're ever lonely again," Asuka whispered, "you can come to me. I'll listen. Always."
Just then, the shop door creaked open.
Shinichiro stepped out, blinking in surprise. "Asuka? What are you doing here?"
"Oh, we were just out for a walk," she replied coolly, smiling. "It's a beautiful night, you know?"
Shinichiro chuckled softly. "If you say so."
"Yeah, yeah. Now get back inside. It's late," Asuka said as she gently took Kazutora and Keisuke by the hands and led them away.
Shinichiro watched them go, a peaceful smile curling his lips. He whispered softly, "Thank you, Asuka," before heading back inside.
At home…
Asuka opened the front door and pushed the boys inside.
Their mother stood at the doorway, hands on hips, glaring. "Where were you both?! Do you even know what time it is?!"
Before she could say more, Keisuke rushed forward and wrapped her in a tight hug, sobbing silently.
She softened, pulling him into her arms.
Kazutora glanced sideways at Asuka, guilt still flooding him. "I… I don't know what came over me. It's like I wasn't myself..."
Asuka turned to him, her voice gentle now. "I believe you. That's why I stopped you."
Kazutora nodded slowly, words failing him. Then, without another word, he turned and walked home, her words echoing in his mind.
You're not alone.