The morning sun hit the ruins of the neighborhood like a spotlight on a crime scene. But for Daisetsu and Yasuo, the nightmare was shifting into a mission. They weren't hiding in a safe house anymore. With Tenshin's tactical team backing them up and the evidence from the tablet already leaking to every major news outlet, the status quo had flipped. The Violent Fugitive was now the city's biggest whistleblower, and the Superintendent was the one running for cover.
Daisetsu stood in front of the vanity mirror in their new, secure location. He was finally clean, the soot from the bakery fire washed away, but the "scarred" landscape of his body told the story of his Iron-Fist past. He looked fierce, his strong, muscular body tense as he buttoned a crisp black shirt—the kind a stoic protector wears when he's ready to end a war.
Yasuo walked up behind him, his hands reaching out to straighten Daisetsu's collar. He was still blushing slowly, his mind looping back to the ultimate heat they had shared on the table in the safe house. He could still feel the dark, purple mark on his neck, a territorial promise that pulsated with every heartbeat.
"You don't have to go alone," Yasuo whispered, his voice steady despite his nerves. "The world knows the truth now. You're not a monster, Daisetsu. You're the one who saved them."
Daisetsu turned around, his metallic eyes softening as he looked at his Cutie Boy. He didn't just see a baker; he saw his anchor. He grabbed Yasuo's waist, pulling him into a possessive embrace that made the air in the room feel thin.
"I'm not going alone," Daisetsu rumbled, his voice a gravelly vibration against Yasuo's forehead. "You're the one who gave me the weapon. Without you, I'd just be a guy with a pipe. With you... I'm the man who's going to take everything from him."
He leaned down, his mouth crashing onto Yasuo's in a kiss that was pure physical payoff. It wasn't flirty or clumsy—it was extreme and passionate, a shared focus that locked their souls together. Daisetsu's hands were bruising as they gripped Yasuo's hips, reclaiming him once more before the huge problem hit its peak. He bit Yasuo's lower lip gently, a territorial reminder that they were ride-or-die until the end.
"Stay with Tenshin," Daisetsu commanded, his Stoic Protector mask sliding back into place. "When I come back, there won't be any more secrets. No more 'avoidance.' Just us."
Daisetsu stepped out of the room, leaving Yasuo breathless. He met Tenshin in the hallway, the Grandma giving him a somber nod.
"The Superintendent is holding a press conference at the District Hall," Tenshin said, checking his watch. "He's trying to spin the 'bakery fire' as a gang war that you started. He's digging his own grave."
"Good," Daisetsu said, his knuckles cracking. "I'll be the one to push him in."
They arrived at the hall just as the cameras were flashing. The Superintendent was on stage, looking like a malicious king, lying through his teeth about safety and negligence. But the second Daisetsu walked through the double doors, the room went dead silent.
He wasn't the Sensei they knew. He was the Iron-Fist, and he was carrying the ledger—the one he saved from the flames—that contained every bribe and threat the Superintendent had ever made.
"The fire didn't burn the truth," Daisetsu's voice boomed, cutting through the Superintendent's lies like a blade.
Across the street, watching from a laptop in a secure van, Yasuo watched the Stoic Protector take his revenge. He saw the Superintendent's face go pale, and he saw Kaede being led away in handcuffs by the school board. The big problem was ending, but as Yasuo touched the mark on his neck, he knew the romance was only getting started.