Friday after school. Ranga couldn't shake the Vortex message Miya had sent him the night before. It clung to his mind like a burr. *'The account used for the post — one registrant's IP address matches the IP used during S registration.'* Every time he recalled those words, a cold knot tightened deep in his chest. A damp wind, carrying the scent of the tide, blew through the streets of Uruma. The distant sky was beginning to be swallowed by gray clouds. Ranga readjusted his grip on his skateboard and hurried toward a small park near Demiglace. He spotted Miya alone on a bench, fiddling with his phone, his short black hair bouncing like cat ears. "Miya." When Ranga called out, Miya looked up and glared at him with his deep green, feline eyes. Still seated on the bench, he offered his usual light barb. "[sarcastic] You're late. Thought you were international mail from Canada." "[surprised] Huh? Sorry... wait, mail from Canada is actually pretty fast." "[sarcastic] I wasn't setting you up for a comeback. ...Whatever, sit down." As Ranga sat on the bench, Miya thrust his phone toward him. The familiar Vortex logs were densely arranged on the dark screen. "[serious] Continuing from last night's message. I traced the IP address of the account used to post the photo and cross-referenced it with the S registration data." Miya's finger glided across the screen. The dry, rustling sound, like wheels biting into concrete, seemed to visualize the flow of data. But the young genius's next words instantly wiped all sound from Ranga's mind. "[cold] One registrant matched. That ID — it was the same as Reki's registration ID." *Thud.* Ranga fumbled the phone, catching it hastily with both hands. His fingertips trembled faintly. He thought he heard the after-school chime in the distance, but his heartbeat pounded too loudly in his ears to hear anything. (*Reki...?*) His best friend's smile flickered repeatedly in his mind. That innocent, beaming face. The serious expression when he shaped a skateboard. And yesterday, that frightened back as he ran away the moment he saw him. "[scared] That can't... I mean, Reki is... No, was it really Reki?" "[sarcastic] I only stated the facts. Judging them is your job, isn't it?" Though his tone was dismissive, Miya didn't look away from Ranga. His green cat eyes silently pierced him, as if saying, *"Don't run."* Ranga sat frozen, mouth agape, as if he'd forgotten how to breathe. —That's when it happened. *Grrrrrrrr.* A stupid, rupturing sound shattered the tension-hardened air. Miya's stomach growling. "............" Miya's cheeks flushed faintly. He immediately turned his face away, glaring off in a random direction. "[angry] Wh-What, you got a problem!? Middle schoolers need their three o'clock snack, okay! I bet you're making fun of me!" At that desperate excuse, Ranga's tension eased for just a moment. But no laughter came. He hung his head, staring intently at a crack in the asphalt. "[sad] ...I'm going to see Reki today. I'll talk to him. Properly." The words, murmured quietly, sounded as if he was telling them to himself. Miya didn't answer, but stood up. "[gentle] Well, I don't want to hear any whining. ...Eat some ice cream and cool your head, dummy." Leaving those words behind, Miya exited the park. In Ranga's hand, left alone, the time display on his phone crept steadily toward night. --- Night. A few hours later, the rain began. A few drops at first, then gradually a downpour, as if someone had overturned a bucket. The nighttime streets of Uruma fell silent, as if sunk into a dark sea. The alley behind Demiglace. The fluorescent lights, near closing time, thinly illuminated the threads of rain. Ranga stood there, drenched to the bone. Deep within his light blue eyes, anxiety and anger swirled like a muddy torrent. *Creak.* The back door opened. A silhouette with spiky, reddish-brown hair froze, a trash bag in hand. Seeing his best friend standing beyond the rain, Reki's face twisted into a grimace. "[surprised] R-Ranga...!? Why are you here—" "[sad] Reki." Ranga took one step forward. His voice trembled, nearly drowned out by the rain. "Was it you... who leaked that photo?" A direct hit. A straight question with no room for evasion. The trash bag slipped from Reki's arms and fell with a thud. The rain pounded mercilessly against their two shadows. "[scared] N-No... I—" Reki started to speak, then bit his lip and averted his eyes tightly. He didn't confirm. He didn't deny. He just hung his head, clenching his fists as if enduring pain. (*Why won't you deny it...*) Ranga felt something rapidly cooling in his chest. "[angry] Why!! If it's not true, then say it's not true!! We were best friends, weren't we!!" Ranga's scream echoed through the alley. The curtain of rain separated them, looking like a wall protecting Reki. The fear of a "real-life exposure" that could leak Reki's real name and school. Jealousy of talent, and guilt toward his best friend. But — Reki couldn't say anything now. A truth he wanted to tell but couldn't was tightening around his throat from the inside. "[sad] I... damn it... it's not true, Ranga..." Reki squeezed out just those words and shut his eyes tightly. Because he was an honest person who couldn't lie, he couldn't even manage a desperate excuse. He knew he wasn't the culprit. But somewhere in his heart, he felt that someone like him, carrying something so close to it, had no right to deny it here. *Splash splash splash splash!* At that moment, light footsteps kicked through the puddles. When the two turned, Kiriko was running in with a desperate expression, her long black hair, reaching her waist, soaked by the rain. She must have dashed out without an umbrella; her white blouse clung to her skin. She slipped smoothly between them. "[angry] Stop it! Don't fight in this rain! Please, let's calm down and talk!" Kiriko's black eyes looked up at Ranga imploringly. The small, crescent-shaped scar on her left temple — a scar from playing with Ranga when they were children — was wet with raindrops. The moment he saw her face, something inside Ranga snapped audibly. (*Again. Kiriko is stepping in again.*) A voice, cold and exhausted even to his own surprise, came out of his mouth. "[cold] ...Kiriko, you're always like this." Kiriko's body stiffened with a jolt. "You've always... been close to me. But honestly, it was really heavy." The moment he said it, Ranga realized. His mouth had said something irreparable. Kiriko's narrow, tapered eyes widened as if seeing something unbelievable. Rain traced down her cheeks. He could no longer tell if it was rain or tears. "I... won't rely on Kiriko anymore." "............" Kiriko couldn't even make a sound. Everything she had — her long-standing unrequited love, the heart-pounding excitement of her "Love Physical Touch Operation," the days of special training at Hangar 7, her determination to protect him from Adam no matter what. All of it crumbled audibly before her eyes. "[crying] ...Heavy, you said." A trembling sigh escaped Kiriko's lips. Even so, she twisted her mouth tightly and just looked at Ranga. Her vision blurred slowly. She took one step backward. "[crying] My feelings... they never reach you anyway!" Her voice tore through the sound of rain and echoed in the alley. Large tears spilled from her eyes. The next moment, Kiriko turned her back and dashed into the darkness. The rain grew even stronger. "[scared] Kiriko, wait—!" Ranga reflexively tried to chase after her. But Reki stepped forward, blocking his path. Silently, but with an undeniable strength, he obstructed his way. "Move, Reki...!" Ranga tried to grab Reki's shoulder. But at that moment, he noticed the deep self-reproach in Reki's eyes, and his hand stopped. Reki, still looking down, just mouthed the words, *it's not true.* In the brief instant their movements halted, Kiriko's back was completely swallowed by the pouring darkness, no longer visible. Ranga stood rooted in the rain. It was hard to breathe, as if someone was squeezing his heart with all their might. (*What did I just say...*) The weight of words that could no longer be stopped pressed heavily on his chest. Kiriko's crying face clung to the back of his eyelids, refusing to leave. "[whispers] ...Damn." Reki spat out that single word, then returned to the shop without another word. Left behind, Ranga was alone. --- Several hours later. After going home once and changing clothes, Ranga's feet unconsciously carried him toward the abandoned Camp Falcon site. The rain, still not gentle, had weakened slightly. At the pit, a restless murmur from a few people was beginning to leak out in anticipation of tomorrow's beef between Adam and Kiriko. But Ranga himself stood still in the darkness before Gate Zero. He wanted to apologize to Kiriko. He wanted to properly talk to Reki. But right now, he couldn't do either. He was the one who had messed everything up. "[gentle] ...Did you come alone? How cute, little boy." From the darkness behind him came a sweet, yet chillingly low voice. Turning around, there was that mask. Long silver hair, slicked back, swayed in the damp night air, and golden eyes glinted sharply as they appraised Ranga. It was Adam. "[gentle] If Kiriko withdraws, the beef will be invalidated. If that happens, the duel wagered on you ends here." Adam's voice sounded almost pitying, yet only his mouth seemed to be smiling. "[serious] ...I'll race. In Kiriko's place." "[surprised] Oh?" "[serious] That's against the rules. The winner of the wager condition was decided to be her." "[cold] Then beef against me. With a different wager." Right after those words— *Clunk.* A nearby vending machine dropped a can with a strangely silly sound. The unexpected, everyday noise echoed through the ruins of the night, pathetically breaking their tense silence for just a moment. But only the eyes deep behind Adam's mask were not laughing. "[gentle] ...Interesting. Very well, little boy." Adam slowly turned his back to Ranga with a theatrical gesture. "[whispers] I'll think of the condition. One to make you completely, utterly mine." Only that voice seeped into the damp night darkness and vanished. Ranga was left alone before Gate Zero. The pain of wanting to apologize to Kiriko. The suspicion toward Reki, and the conflicting desire to believe him even more. And the reality that tomorrow, he would beef against the absolute champion, Adam. Three heats melted messily together deep in his chest, and he just stared at the ruins. Through a gap in the post-rain clouds, a single ray of moonlight quietly illuminated his bluish hair.