A shadow hangs over Tokyo Dome—and Hanma Baki is falling into it.
After a deliberate loss drops him from Fighter to Apprentice in the underground arena known only as Shadow Line, seventeen-year-old Baki wanders the empty parking garage beneath the dome, haunted by the memory of his mother's death at his father's hands. The pendant against his chest is cold. The truth of that night is colder.
Then a woman in black steps out of the darkness.
She knows about his mother. She knows how she died—an
BAKI IF: Devour the Mother's Love - The Truth Behind Mother's Death — The Woman in the Black Coat
The underground parking garage of Tokyo Dome was dead silent, just like it had been that night.
The only differences were that the late-March chill had softened a little, and that his own heartbeat was obnoxiously loud.
Hanma Baki stopped in front of the loading entrance and drew a deep breath. His exhale no longer misted. The spring night air mingled with the lukewarm draft seeping up from below.
(Is she coming, that woman?)
Three days since then. The same words had been circling in his head the whole time.
The truth behind his mother's death.
He wanted to know. But he was afraid to know.
That woman's words were stuck in his ears, and he couldn't peel them off. *"If you don't come, you'll never beat that man as long as you live."*
That man. Hanma Yujiro. The Ogre, strongest on earth. His father.
He found himself gripping the pendant at his chest without realizing it. The cold of the metal seeped into his palm. His mother's keepsake. The one single connection he wore against his skin, never taking it off.
"...So you came."
The voice came from deep inside the garage, near where the green emergency-exit lamp floated faintly in the dark.
A woman in a black coat stood there without a sound.
Shuzawa Emi.
Just like that night, as though she had been there from the very beginning, she melted naturally into the darkness. Her long black hair swayed faintly in the draft from the ventilation fan. Her narrow, sharp eyes fixed on him clearly even in the gloom.
She looked to be in her late thirties. No—there were moments she looked younger. Her back was straight; just standing there, she changed the air around her. A cold beauty. She wasn't smiling, yet only the corners of her mouth traced a thin arc.
"You came. I do like children who keep their promises."
"I didn't come because you told me to. I came because I want to know."
Baki turned half-sideways and lowered his center of gravity, ready to move at any moment. The distance between them was about ten meters. At this range, one step in and he could close it in an instant.
But the woman didn't flinch at all. If anything, she seemed to be enjoying his wariness.
"Good. That's fine. What matters most is that you chose this yourself."
"Skip the preamble. What's the truth about my mother's death? Tell me everything you know."
The woman tilted her head ever so slightly. Her black eyes glinted in time with the flickering fluorescent light.
"If I tell you everything, you won't be able to stay on your feet."
"Huh?"
"I'm saying, if standing gets too hard to bear, sit down."
Her voice was cold as ice, and yet strangely pleasant to the ear. Baki's heart gave a nasty throb.
"...What do you know about my mother?"
"Everything. How your mother laughed, how she cried, how she died. For the last three years of that woman's life, the one closest to her wasn't you, and it wasn't that man. It was me."
The woman slowly raised her right wrist. The sleeve of her black coat slid down, baring white skin. On that wrist was an old burn scar. The skin was puckered and discolored a dark red-black.
"Recognize this mark?"
"...No."
"It happened the night I tried to hold your mother. In that burning house, I was pressed against a red-hot iron pillar. Your mother shoved me away—and then she went to that man."
Something began to stir restlessly in Baki's head.
The night his mother died.
His father's fist. Spraying red. The black stain spreading across the floor. His mother's lips moving, trying to say something.
"What was my mother trying to say, back then?"
His voice trembled. He clenched his back teeth and somehow kept his composure.
The woman was silent for a while, staring hard into Baki's eyes. It was an appraising look, and yet somehow sorrowful.
"Your mother, you see, was loved by that man. More deeply than anyone. More madly than anyone. In that man's own way, from the bottom of his heart."
"...What are you talking about?"
"And precisely because she was loved, she was killed."
For an instant, Baki's vision went pure white.
His mother's face surfaced in his mind. Her gentle smile. Her warm hands. Her voice calling, *"Baki, dinner's ready."*
It all dyed over in the color of blood.
"...You're kidding me."
"It's the truth. To that man, that's what love is. He takes it, breaks it, and confirms it was his. Your mother was loved too much by that man. And so she was broken."
"Were you there?"
"I was. That night, I was right beside your mother. In the flames, I watched that man's fist crush her body. The sound of bones breaking, the sound of blood striking the floor, her final breath—I heard all of it with these ears."
The woman touched her fingers to her ear. A black pearl earring swayed faintly.
"Your mother said this at the very end. *'Please, look after Baki.'* Not to that man. To me. In the very moment her life was fading, she thought of you."
Baki's fist clenched on its own. His knuckles went white.
"You're lying."
"I'm not. I'm the only person who heard that woman's last words. Your mother was thinking of you right up to the end. That much, at least, believe."
"...You heard my mother's last words?"
"Yes. You want to know, don't you. What she was thinking, what face she wore as she died. It's something you can only hear from my mouth."
Baki's breathing grew ragged. His shoulders rose and fell. His heart pounded painfully.
Mom.
Mom's last words.
He wanted to know. He didn't want to know. But he wanted to know.
"...Keep going."
His voice came out lower and drier than he'd expected.
The woman took one slow step closer. The click of her heel rang against the concrete.
"Your mother was loved by that man, and she died by that man's hand. That's because he's the strongest on earth. That man never had the strength to protect what he loved. No—that's not right. That man doesn't know what protecting means. He thinks loving something means breaking it. That's the shape his love takes."
"So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying you can't beat that man. As you are now, never."
The woman had come to a stop right in front of Baki. Three meters. No—two. Her black eyes pierced straight through his.
"You've fought inside the rules of the arena. On the ring, fair and square, protected by the rules. But that man is different. That man has lived outside the rules. He has no hesitation about killing. Against an opponent like that, challenge him with sport technique and there's no way you win."
Yesterday's match came flooding back into Baki's head.
His opponent's feigned killing intent. He'd reacted to it and lost on purpose. No—that wasn't it. He'd reacted, and he was so ashamed of himself that he lost the will to fight.
To that little killing intent.
"You need the technique of a real fight to the death. Pure technique for taking a life. The only way to stand on the same ground as that man."
"Technique for a fight to the death...?"
"Yes. Under the arena's rules, you can't beat that man. You can't use weapons. You can't lay a hand on him outside a match. You fight on the ring, protected by the rules. There's no way you beat that monster in a place like that. You've sensed it yourself, haven't you, somewhere in the back of your mind?"
Baki went silent.
She'd hit the mark.
He'd sensed it, faintly. No—he'd known it clearly. Under the arena's rules, he couldn't beat that man.
But then what was he supposed to do? He'd never found the answer.
"...Who are you?"
"Shuzawa Emi. A woman who once served the Hanma family. And your mother's one and only friend."
For the first time, the woman gave her own name.
Shuzawa Emi.
That name wasn't in Baki's memory. But the woman's eyes didn't look like they were lying.
"You were my mother's friend?"
"Yes. She saved me, again and again. Her smile rescued me, again and again. So I owe her. I owe your mother a debt so large I could never repay it."
For the first time, the woman's voice wavered, just a little.
"I have an obligation to tell the truth to you, her son. And an obligation to lend you my hand so you can face that man in the truest sense. This is my atonement."
"...Atonement?"
"Yes. That night, I couldn't save your mother. I couldn't stop that man. Your mother died because I was weak. So at the very least, you—"
The woman extended her left hand.
White, slender fingers. Her nails were cut short. On her wrist, the burn scar.
"Come with me. I'll teach you how to truly defeat Yujiro."
Baki stared hard at the offered hand.
He wanted to know the truth behind his mother's death.
But this woman was hiding something.
Those cold eyes. That tone, calculated to the last detail. *"It's all for your sake"*—this woman could say that without blinking.
"...I've got no reason to trust you."
Baki spoke in a low voice.
"That's fine. You don't need to trust me. Just take my hand. If you want to know the truth of your mother's death, there's no other way."
"...Let me hear my mother's last words. Then I'll think about it."
The woman quietly shook her head.
"I'll tell you that once we're where we're going. I don't know who might be listening here. Besides, before I tell you, there's something I want to show you."
"Something to show me?"
"Yes. The place where your mother was killed by that man. And the place where you'll learn the true fight from here on."
Baki's heart gave another great leap.
The place where his mother was killed.
That house, wrapped in flames, that night.
"...All right."
Baki took the woman's hand.
It was a cold hand. Cold as ice, and hard. But that coldness was, conversely, pleasant to him now.
As if it could cool a head that had grown far too hot.
"A wise choice."
For the first time, the woman narrowed her eyes and smiled.
It was a little different from the cold smile she'd shown in the parking garage that night.
"Now, let's go. There isn't much time."
The woman pulled Baki by the hand and began walking toward the back of the garage.
Baki didn't resist.
He followed silently behind her. The hem of her black coat swayed in the night wind.
(Is this really okay?)
He asked himself. No answer came.
But his feet didn't stop.
The truth behind his mother's death.
Those words alone drove Baki's body forward.
---
Where Emi took Baki was a late-night entertainment district in Shinjuku, lined with cramped multi-tenant buildings.
A deserted street after the neon had gone dark. No foot traffic. Only the occasional drunk staggering past.
"Here we are."
Emi stopped in front of an old multi-tenant building that looked at least forty years old. On the first floor, the sign of a closed izakaya hung faded and drooping.
"What's in a place like this?"
"Quiet, and follow me."
Emi slipped into a narrow alley beside the building. Baki followed.
At the dead end of the alley was an iron door. It looked like an emergency exit, but it had no knob and no keyhole. Emi pressed part of the wall.
With a heavy grinding sound, the wall slid sideways.
"...You've gotta be kidding me."
Beyond the wall, a staircase leading down appeared. Concrete steps. The orange glow of emergency lights lit them dimly.
"From here on, things run by different rules than the world above. Same as the underground arena at Tokyo Dome that you know."
"You mean Shadow Line."
"Yes. This passage leads even deeper than Shadow Line. To a special place the ordinary fighters don't know about."
Emi began descending the stairs. The click of her heels echoed off the concrete walls.
Baki paused for a moment.
Shadow Line's regulations crossed his mind.
Private combat outside matches is forbidden. Disclosure to non-parties is forbidden.
This passage was clearly outside those regulations. No—it connected to something even deeper, something far more dangerous.
"What's wrong? Getting scared?"
Emi turned around midway down the stairs. Her black eyes glinted in the dark.
"...Are you with Shadow Line?"
"Who knows. But at the very least,
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