CHAPTER 6: Borrowed Time, Broken Roads
"In here, time moves slow unless you're running out."
Rain on the Blade
Tokyo's lights bled across Rin's visor in streaming neon, every drop of rain a sharp white prism as he cut through the city's late-night pulse. The Haya e-Beat purred beneath him, every part tuned, cleaned, and polished by his hands, a badge of pride for a kid who could barely afford ramen most days. Tonight, it was the only thing keeping him moving.
He weaved through traffic, lane-splitting past taxis and battered Nissan Leafs, delivery scooters flaring their horns as he passed. The cold drizzle needled through his gloves, stinging his knuckles, each sharp flick of rain an icy reminder he was still awake, still in this city that wouldn't slow down. Akihabara's neon signs washed over him, leaving streaks on the polyglass before the hard edge of the elevated highway's concrete and glass, as rain swallowed him up. He opened the throttle, feeling the e-Beat's battery surge, the low hum rising under him, pulse for pulse.
"Mom…" Rin mumbled, voice soft in his helmet, mind wandering, not for the first time tonight.
A memory flickered: the last real moment he had with her danced in his head. Her hand was on his shoulder, firm and grounding, just before middle school orientation at Tochi. Six years, maybe more. Now, she was a silent shape in a hospital bed, and Rin felt the weight in his chest like a stone, the cold winter wind slapping him out of the daze.
"Can't get soft now. Not with this much on the line." He flicked his thumb, wiping condensation from his HUD, fighting to keep his focus locked forward.
The helmet's blue UI flickered alive in the lower right corner. Route lines pulsed toward the hospital.
[Battery: 81%]
A steady cascade of system pings slid down his periphery:
[LOOP TRENDING | 3. Call of the Bones World! | 15. Kaiseki]
[Entertainment / Gaming: 1. Call of the Bones World | 15. Kaiseki]
Call of the Bones wasn't the top of the world politics, and celebrity gossip still held that crown, but it was dominating the gaming feeds. Kaiseki, Rin's chosen name, was trending just high enough to make his skin itch.
"Going viral overnight… I guess triggering a world quest does that…"
He could see the comments sharp, wild, half toxic, half hype. The HGO community had exploded.
[Yuna_N9]: "Did you all see that system pop? World quest, right before Bash. 👀 #WinterBash #CallOfTheBones"
(12,043 likes · 3,154 reloops · 802 comments)
[DaisukeAoi]: "Whoever landed it, hope you've got a plan. Last year's world quest was a bloodbath. Pro teams are already out hunting. Don't log out in the jungle. #WorldQuest"
(4,215 likes · 989 comments)
[Haruto7]: "Y'all chase the drama. I'm gonna lock in for the 3v3 Bash. See you in the finals."
(1,843 likes · 200 comments)
[Eren_HGO]: "It's just a quest. I'll be on top when it matters. (If you got the quest, I can help.)"
(2,539 likes · 1,300 comments)
[PK_Wraith]: "Let's hunt. Whoever this Kaiseki is, they're fresh meat."
(3,512 likes · 604 laughing/knife emojis)
[OBN_Seiya]: "Everyone's asking if the quest is tied to the new continents. My guess? It's a teaser for node battles. We're scouting info trades DM only."
(1,950 likes · 890 comments)
[LondonSpire_Kai]: "Watch how you move. World quests in HGO never end clean."
(1,341 likes · 480 comments)
[PK_Wraith]: "It's already a blood hunt. Whoever triggered it, better have info in my DMs soon!"
( 492 likes)
Rin scrolled, his name appearing, along with memes and call-outs, a few DM requests, most of which were just wild speculation. Nobody knew it was him. Nobody even knew what class landed the quest, or what the requirements were. Only the name. Only the headline. That was how he wanted it.
"Let them talk. Nobody knows who Kaiseki is… nobody but me."
His eyes locked on the route ahead as he sped up, thumb hitting the side button on his helmet. The HGO companion widget appeared, displaying a new ad banner across his screen.
[HGO OFFICIAL]: Unlucky Hero – Official Winter Bash OST
[PLAY]
He tapped it. Dubstep kicked through his helmet bass-heavy, electric, pure hype. The city's pulse merged with the track, the cold rain drumming in sync. For a second, his stress faded, replaced by adrenaline.
His mind spun, trying to piece together a strategy, the internal monologue running wild:
"Three days. Not much time for trial and error. I have to figure out this quest, who Shiv is, and what the hell goblin builds can even do. No more watching from the sidelines."
He actually laughed, feeling the jolt of excitement under all the stress.
"Conquering HGO is the task… I have the world quest… but I have to queue in for PVP. That's the only way to find out how far behind I really am."
A van cut in front, breaking his focus. He slid past, the e-Beat's wheels slicing through a puddle, spraying water up his leg. Horns blared, but he barely heard them.
A robotic ad voice cut in through the helmet:
SOFT RESET INBOUND.
"All legacy characters frozen. One character per account after January. Only expansion characters are eligible for Winter Bash 3v3v3. Node battles begin with expansion. Player-owned cities. Player-driven events. NPCs can rebel, form alliances, and control territory. World quests can set server-wide rules ."
"Bring your business here. Eldora will be open for all."
He exhaled, feeling the motor's vibration all the way up his spine. Every streetlight streaked across the polyglass, blurring into the rhythm of the city. His chest tightened.
Everyone's grinding for the Bash. It's not just a tournament. That prize money could clear half the debts. The rest? Maybe Mom's surgery. Perhaps even a way out if Tochi accepts me back. I can keep Chiyo and the twins safe. But if I choke this…
He shook his head, tightening his grip.
The e-Beat's dashboard glowed blue as he took the onramp to the expressway, the city falling away behind as he blasted toward Katsuragi General perched on the edge of Shinjuku, high enough to look over the river and the maze of Tokyo's east side.
Every light on the skyline reflected in the water, the whole city a galaxy of possibilities and regrets. He gunned the engine, remembering nights when he'd parked on the top deck to stare at the stars after a visit just him, the city, and all that open sky.
He cut the turn, zipped up the spiral ramp, tires humming over slick concrete. Rain hammered the roof above, the air thick with ozone, brake pads, and city steam.
He found his usual spot, top level, facing the glass wall and the faint shimmer of distant neon. Killed the engine. The silence was filled with the drumming rain and his own breathing.
He unclipped his gloves, opened the helmet, and shook out his dreads, rainwater rolling down his collar, cool on his burning skin. For a second, the world narrowed to heartbeat and breath.
"All right. One last stop before home."
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
[Ping: Chiyo]
"Don't forget, visiting hours end at 10:30! See you soon."
He ignored the chill in his hands as he jogged for the elevator, heart thudding. Every detail, from the smell of antiseptic to the echo of his footsteps and the reflection of his own tired eyes in the elevator doors, seemed sharper, more urgent.
He stepped inside the elevator, doors sealing with a hydraulic hiss, the air heavy with the scent of rust, metal, and faint perfume. One floor down, and his nerves spiked with every mechanical jolt.
The elevator doors slid open, and the lobby air washed over him a blend of citrus and sanitizer, hospital flowers and brewed coffee. Instrumental jazz drifted from hidden speakers, the notes barely chasing away the undercurrent of exhaustion in every nurse's voice.
Katsuragi General Hospital - Tokyo
Warm light spilled out across the tile, fighting back the chill in Rin's jacket. The lobby buzzed with low voices, nurses in blue and green scrubs gathered by the counter, the soft beeps and whooshes of monitors bleeding out from behind every door. The scent of antiseptic, citrus, and cheap vending machine coffee rolled over him, settling into the cracks of his fatigue. Rin clocked every detail: the old lady at the visitor's desk, fingers drumming in time with the jazz, the burly night guard reading manga behind the glass, the steady hum of hospital life at half-speed.
Ms. Sugiyama looked up from her tablet, her powder-blue uniform pressed, a pair of smart glasses perched on her nose. She was a pillar of this place, tall, broad-shouldered, hair in a no-nonsense bun streaked with silver, skin deep brown, and eyes quick, sharp with that mix of tiredness and genuine care only long-term nurses could master.
"Evening, Rin. You're running close on visiting hours."
Rin grinned, shaking off his rain-slicked collar, helmet swinging from two fingers.
"Couldn't help it. The city threw every red light at me." His voice was easy, practiced, but he could hear the fatigue underneath. "How's the squad tonight?"
She gave him that sly, side-eyed smile. "You know, drama at the peds station, elevator stuck again on six, one of the new interns passed out in the stairwell after his first twelve-hour shift… the usual."
She jerked her chin at the front desk, voice dipping gently. "Go grab those flowers, will you?" She smiled at him.
Rin snorted, feigning offense, but the warmth in his voice was genuine. "I'll bring cookies next time. For real. Fresh-baked, no less."
"You always say that," Ms. Sugiyama teased, but the affection lingered as she turned away, already guiding a young nurse back to the nurses' station.
The lobby itself was a living scene:
Glass walls caught the rain outside, city lights streaking down in shimmering colors. Marble floors gleamed beneath the constant shuffle of shoes and squeak of wheels. Nurses in the navy pushed supply carts, and the elevator pinged again, adding new background noise to the mix.
The receptionist, eyes rimmed with fatigue but warm, her hair a cloud of soft brown curls, held out a bouquet of sunflowers and white asters as Rin approached.
"The usual, right?" Her voice had that gentle, "I've seen it all" cadence, each word carrying decades of late nights and quiet victories. Wrinkles gathered around her eyes, kindness radiating in the way she handled the flowers.
"Always." Rin accepted the bouquet, tucking it under his arm with care, flashing her a tired but grateful smile.
He drifted toward the back halls, his presence so regular here that nurses nodded in passing, one giving him a playful salute. Security at the end of the lobby raised a hand in a silent, familiar "We see you, kid, keep your chin up."
The seventh floor was quieter. Lights dimmed, voices hushed, the usual cacophony replaced by the deeper pulse of machines and the faint, rhythmic hiss of a ventilator.
Rin paused at a vending machine and purchased some water. The pain of the icy cold bottle stung his hand sharply, and he ground. He watched the condensation bead and run, felt it sting his fingers.
He moved down a hallway lined with black-and-white photos: doctors and patients from decades past, a reminder that things change, people fade, but the struggle of the work never ends.
[Room 713]
He stood outside the door, breath caught in his chest, memory rolling through him like a slow tide. The last time she'd walked him to Tochi Academy, her hand solid on his shoulder, voice warm and alive. Now, her world was this room: monitors blinking, the faint sting and click of the ventilator, her brown skin pale but peaceful against the white of the sheets.
He stepped in, flowers cradled like something fragile and precious. The room was a living collage:
Cards from the twins, a faded volleyball medal from his mom's own glory days, a beaded charm looped around the IV pole, photos taped to the edge of the monitor.
He swapped the old flowers for the new, arranging them the way Chiyo taught him, " Don't crowd the stems, let them breathe," Rin thought as his hands moved gently, reverently.
He slid the chair close and sat, body sinking into the vinyl, just a boy beside his mother again.
"Hey, Mom. Brought you your favorites. Sunflowers, see?"
He brushed a loose braid off her forehead, thumb tracing the line of her brow. The movement was muscle memory, soft and careful.
"You know, Chiyo's still holding it down. Twins are good. I'm trying, I promise. I'll figure it out. … hold on a little longer, okay?"
His words were soft, nearly lost under the low music of the machines. He let his head rest against her arm for a minute, just breathing hospital quiet, rain ticking on the window.
A soft knock at the door.
Ms. Sugiyama poked her head in, her silhouette filling the frame, eyes kind but heavy-lidded with the weight of a double shift. Her hands were constantly in motion, fussing with a chart, a stray lock of hair, always something to anchor herself to the room.
"Closing time soon, Rin." Her voice was gentle, eyes studying his posture for that extra fatigue she knew too well.
Rin managed a grateful smile. "Okay, Ms. S." He didn't have much time, but he was glad he made it at all.
With a final smile, she closed the door with a practiced, gentle touch, leaving him and his mother to the soft hum of machines and the muted glow of the city.
He lingered, eyes tracing the flutter of his mom's pulse on the monitor, until a sharp clatter broke the quiet, a box dropped in the hallway.
Rin stood, running a hand down his jacket to smooth it, heart already ticking a little faster.
He stepped out, softly closing the door, sparing one last look through the little window at his mother's sleeping face, and caught the sight of a girl crouched in the hall.
She was half-hidden behind a mop cart, knees on the floor, pink hair peeking out from under a gray beanie, hoodie sleeves dark with rain. A half-empty box of pastries was tipped sideways, its contents spilled out like a fan, and a phone with the Loop app open blinked a string of notifications.
Rin quietly crossed over, boots squeaking on the waxed tile. He took a knee beside her, the soft click of his hospital badge and keys breaking the silence as they jingled on his hip.
"Need a hand?" Rin said, voice low and calm, a spark of humor in it. The chaos of the moment almost made him smile. "Cute," he thought, trying to keep it off his face.
She looked up, her brown eyes wide behind thick glasses, a flash of surprise as she took in his height, nearly a head and a half above her, and the dark skin, the unmistakable moped helmet under his arm. Her lips parted, cheeks coloring.
"Umm, sure, sorry I wasn't watching where I was going," Yuna stammered, fingers snatching at the scattered envelopes, most of them stamped with cutesy stickers and calligraphy, the top one adorned with a fan art sketch of some idol.
Rin scooped up a handful, careful not to smudge the ink, handing them back with a crooked grin.
"No stress. You good? Sounded like you hit the ground kinda hard." The joke was gentle, but a real thread of concern lay beneath it.
She managed a soft laugh, blush deepening as she accepted the envelopes. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks for asking. Maybe if I didn't have my face in Loop, I could walk straight."
Yuna's voice was shy, but the wit was there, a flash of confidence beneath the embarrassment.
Rin helped stack her phone on top of the box, eye-catching the green HGO drive clipped to his own belt as she glanced at it.
She was short, barely up to his chest. Her hands were quick and delicate, the sleeves of her hoodie pulled over her palms, knuckles a little red from the cold.
"You ride a Haya e-Beat?" Yuna blurted, trying to steer the attention away from her stumble. "Don't see many of those. I heard they were recalled, or something."
Her gaze flicked up at his face again. "Gosh, so tall… he makes me look tiny…" she thought, shooting glances at Rin from the corner of her eye as they walked.
Rin grinned, scooping up the last letter, then grabbed her phone and set it atop the stack in her hands, careful not to let anything tip.
"Yeah, my pops always rode this thing. It's reliable, you know?" He rapped a knuckle on his helmet and stood, muscles shifting beneath the bomber jacket, feeling the weight of her eyes on him.
She tucked a strand of pink hair behind her ear, the motion nervous and cute.
"I'm Yunaile," she said, pushing her glasses up her nose, voice trying to sound calm but not quite making it.
"Rin. Rin Kazehaya."
Yuna repeated his name softly, almost testing the sound, brow furrowed just a second. Kazehaya… is he joking? she thought, but didn't say it aloud.
Ms. Sugiyama passed back through, arms loaded with fresh linens, eyes glinting as she clocked the two of them.
"Don't be flirting with her, Rin…" she called, a teasing lilt in her voice that made the moment ten times more embarrassing.
Rin turned a little red, scratching the back of his neck, but he shot right back with a crooked grin.
"Come on, Ms. S. You know I'm just being helpful."
She rolled her eyes, but with genuine affection. "You're lucky we like you." She turned to Yuna, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And you, Kaito's sister, you two are always sneaking around. Tell your brother hi for me."
Yuna ducked her head, cheeks pink, and mumbled, "I guess you do this with all girls you bump into in a hospital hallway, huh?"
It was pure tease, her voice warming as she tested the water.
Rin, who hadn't been teased like this by a cute girl, maybe ever, almost lost his cool. He flashed a shy, cocky grin, brushing his knuckles across his brow.
"You got jokes. No, I don't. I'm close with everyone here. My mom… she's been here a while, so they give me crap. But they're like family now."
He ducked his gaze, voice softening as he glanced back at the closed door behind him. Yuna watched him closely, the mood shifting between them.
"I see… I was joking. Sorry to hear about your mom…" Yuna's voice was gentle, a real sadness flickering in her eyes as she fell in beside him, the two of them starting to walk down the hall together.
Their boots squeaked in sync, the sound almost meditative. Rain beat softly on the tall windows at the far end, city lights stretching into endless night.
This is so awkward, Rin thought, words stacking up in his throat. How'd I even get here?
He risked a sidelong glance at her.
"You here every night?" His voice was low, yet inviting, as he tried to bridge the gap.
She shrugged, cheeks flushing. "Whenever I can. My little brother's here. Hospital's not home, but… You know."
She trailed off, biting her lip, forcing herself to stop before she said too much.
Why'd she stop? Rin wondered, picking up on the subtle tension in her shoulders.
He backtracked immediately. "Sorry if I asked something sensitive." His words tumbled over themselves, voice quick, trying to make sure she didn't feel cornered.
They picked up their pace as they hit the lobby. Yuna finally broke the silence, her voice softer now.
"Thank you for earlier. Sorry, there's a lot I can't say about my brother not here, anyway. But, hey, do you play HGO?"
She peeked up at him, brown eyes shining with curiosity, the drive on his keyring still fresh in her mind.
He hesitated, then shrugged, falling back into his easy rhythm.
"Trying to. Picked up the expansion, still figuring things out. I get lost in the menus more than the fights, honestly."
He tried to sound cool about it, but there was a realness in the way he said it, a kind of honesty she picked up on.
She smiled, a slow, genuine thing that made her look twice as cute, and the playful energy came back.
"It's fun. Wild, sometimes. They're doing the Goblin XP event on the 16th, you know? If you're interested, many people are heading to Luxor Lakes afterward. It's a grind, but you learn quickly."
Rin froze, heartbeat stumbling as he processed her words.
"What should I say… damn, I hate lying…"
He thought, words clumsy, voice a shade too quick.
"I can't do the 16th… I have to get enrolled in a new school by then."
Three days to handle the quest… I can't get anyone involved… not at the moment. His mind spun, but he kept his expression calm.
Yuna studied his face, picking up on his sudden shift.
"Well, if you can't make that one, I hope to see you at Luxor." Yuna wasn't one to push; she just wanted to be helpful, but was also very intrigued.
She scribbled on a slip of paper, handwriting looping out carefully and quickly:
[Luxor Lakes, 12PM, 22nd. Watch for trolls.]
She tucked it into his palm, her fingers brushing his for just a moment longer than necessary.
He blinked, heart stuttering.
"I can try and show up. Depends on… life," Rin said, voice low, eyes never leaving hers.
She grinned, half-shy, half-daring, her inner thoughts running a mile a minute.
"If you do, look for a pink-haired bard. Can't miss me."
Their eyes locked in an honest, raw moment. For just a second, it felt like everything else faded out, leaving only the rain and the city and the promise of something neither of them could name yet.
"Thanks," Rin said, meaning every syllable.
A sudden commotion at the nurse's station snapped Yuna back. A delivery mixup, voices rising. She mouthed "Bye," flashed him a grin, and vanished through the door.
Rin lingered, the paper still warm in his hand, the scent of her shampoo lingering in the air. He let the moment echo, settling into his bones.
Rin was tempted to leave before Dr. Inoue intercepted him, hand light but insistent on his shoulder.
"Rin, you got a second?"
The doctor's voice was steady, but the concern was genuine; his white hair was wild, and his scrubs were wrinkled from too many nights on call. He led Rin back past the staff lounge to his office, Ms. Sugiyama pouring tea and pretending not to eavesdrop as she trailed behind a bit.
The office was lit by a single lamp, with stacks of charts and a faded poster of a marathon on the wall. Dr. Inoue's eyes were gentle but clouded tonight.
"Your mother's stable. But, Rin… Chiyo's keeping the lights on, but it's not enough. The surgery…" He paused, voice thick. "If she doesn't get it by August, her prognosis drops. The damage's not just the disease. Coma's wearing her down. You got time, but… not much."
Rin nodded, jaw locked tight, eyes fixed on the scuffed floor.
"Yeah. I'll find a way."
He forced the words out, willing himself not to break. The doctor squeezed his shoulder, lingering just long enough.
"Let us know if you need anything. We're here."
Rin left the office, walking stiffly, and the hallway suddenly became twice as quiet. Ms. Sugiyama caught his eye, her expression soft with understanding. Down the hall, he glimpsed Yunaile at the elevator, half-turned, watching him before the doors closed on her.
He stood in the silence for a beat, then headed for the stairs.
Outside, the night hit him all over again: the rain was colder, the city brighter, everything sharper. He breathed in deep, every sense alive, the world refusing to slow down.
He straddled the e-Beat, glancing once more at the lit windows above, then checked his phone.
[Tabuchi – Family Retainer]:
Kazehaya-san. Reminder: patience is running out. Your debts must be settled. We are not without resources.
He stared at the message, thumb hovering over the reply.
"No more."
He typed, hands steady.
"You'll get your money. Threaten my family again, and you'll see what happens. Next time you come near us, I won't let it slide. Payment's coming soon. That's the last warning."
He sent it, watching the screen blur with rain, the city reflected in every droplet.
He let the anger come, just for a heartbeat. Then, resolve.
"No more running. No more stalling. I've got eight months. Fuck Eren. Fuck his dad. They won't kill my family." He thought to himself.
He slipped on the helmet, kicked the e-Beat into gear, and let the city swallow him.
War was coming, and for the first time, Rin felt ready to fight.
END CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7: NO LIGHT WITHOUT SHADOW
"Every city casts a shadow. The deeper the neon, the darker the truth it hides."