Itsuki's eyelids fluttered open, heavy with the weight of a week and a half without real
rest. For the first time in days, he had slept. A bitter smell filled his nose coffee. He
blinked and saw a man sitting at the table, sipping from a chipped mug, the same
place he had been last night. Itsuki jolted upright. "W-Where am I? Who are you? Miyu… I have to go to the hospital she's waiting for me!" The man didn't move, only glanced at him
with calm, steady eyes. "Name's Hayato. You collapsed in the alley last night. Hunger,
exhaustion you'd have died if I hadn't carried you here." He sipped again, voice flat.
"Would you mind telling me what a sixteen-year-old was doing alone in a place like that?"
Itsuki froze. His lips quivered, but no words came out. Finally, he forced out, "Thank
you… but I need to go." He stumbled toward the exit, desperate.
Hayato's voice stopped him cold. "I don't help everyone. I only help those with true
determination. And kid… you're drowning. If you want strength, say the word. I'll help
you. But once you step out that door, there's no turning back."
Itsuki turned, his hollow eyes trembling. "And how the hell are you supposed to help me?
You're just some old man." Hayato set the mug down. His gaze sharpened, carrying the
weight of another life. "I was a professional assassin. Retired, five years ago. I can
teach you everything I know if you have the will to endure it." Itsuki laughed bitterly.
"An assassin? Do you think I'm stupid? You expect me to believe that, what kind of assassin would say that he's an assassin?" Hayato laughs a little and says well that's true he didn't argue. He only slid a knife across the table, letting it spin once before it landed
perfectly upright, its point buried deep into the wood. His calm eyes met Itsuki's.
"Believe what you want. But strength leaves proof."
Silence stretched between them. Finally, Itsuki's voice cracked. "Miyu… she's all I have.
She's in a coma because of me. I wasn't strong enough." And with shaking words, Itsuki
explained everything the rain, the park, the attacker with the bat, the mask, the glove.
Hayato listened without interrupting. When Itsuki finished, his sigh was heavy, grim.
"…Sounds like he wanted to rape her. The bat was just to break her down fast. He didn't
know you were there. That's why he ran. It's just an assumption though" Itsuki's stomach twisted, bile rising in his
throat. Hayato tapped the glove Itsuki had carried with him. "This marking it isn't
random. Looks like a gang symbol. You're not dealing with a lone creep, kid. You're
dealing with something bigger." Itsuki's nails dug into his palms until they drew blood.
"Then teach me. I don't care how long it takes. I'll hunt him down. I'll kill him."
Hayato's expression hardened, but his words were steady. "Revenge isn't for boys with weak
arms and softer minds. If you want to walk this path, it'll break you. But if you survive
it you might just find the strength you're looking for."
"…Teach me." itsuki says.
Days became weeks. Weeks bled into months. Every sunrise, Hayato tore Itsuki apart and
rebuilt him. Strikes until his knuckles split. Push-ups until his arms gave out. Knives,holds, counters each failure carved into his skin, each lesson burned into his muscles.
"Strength is more than fists," Hayato growled one night. "It's control. You've got anger,
guilt, madness all spilling out. Harness it, or it will consume you."
But no matter how brutal the days, the nights belonged to Miyu. Itsuki dragged his
battered body to the hospital every evening. He brushed her hair, changed her pillows. He whispered apologies, muttered promises.
"I'll find him, Miyu. I'll make him pay. Just wake up… just once, open your eyes smile at
me."
Then, exhausted, he would slump into the chair beside her, staring at her still face until
his own eyes blurred with sleepless tears.
Five years passed.
Aobara City 26 June 1996:
The frail boy was gone. In his place stood a man of twenty 6ft tall, scarred, hardened by
years of pain and relentless training. His hair, once unkempt, was tied into a knot that
framed his hollow eyes. His body bore muscle and strength, yet his insomnia still ate away
at him, leaving shadows beneath his gaze.
Itsuki stood silently at Miyu's bedside, staring at the girl who had grown into a
beautiful young woman, untouched by time, still locked in a cruel, endless sleep. A
sleeping beauty trapped between life and death.
His hand brushed hers gently. "I'm still here, Miyu. And I won't stop until he pays."
The promise burned in his chest, sharper than ever.