Kai stood in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom, giving himself a final look before heading out. He was dressed in a red t-shirt, the sleeves just visible under a plain black jacket. His jeans were black too, and they fit without any baggy wrinkles. His hair, also black, was neat and in place without looking like he'd tried too hard.
On his belt, his launcher was clipped securely on one side. On his right hip was the small, square case that held his Phoenix Beyblade.
He leaned in closer to the mirror, his hands resting at his sides. He studied his own face. It was still the face of a thirteen-year-old, but the soft, round cheeks he'd had before were gone. His skin was pale, and his features seemed more defined now—the line of his jaw a bit sharper, his cheekbones a little more prominent. His black hair was neat, falling into place without any gel or fuss, just a natural tidiness.
But it was his eyes that held his attention. They were a clear, focused brown, looking back at him from the mirror. That look in them—steady, intent, watchful—felt older than thirteen. It was the look of someone who was used to thinking things through, used to preparing for what was coming.
He held his own gaze for another second. Then he gave a single, firm nod at his reflection. It was a small habit. A way of saying, "I'm ready," to himself before stepping out the door.
He walked downstairs, the house quiet except for the sound of his footsteps. He had already told Anya, the housekeeper, not to make breakfast this morning. He'd left a note on the kitchen counter saying he would eat out. She would find it when she woke up.
He stepped out the front door, locking it behind him. The morning air in Tokyo was cool and clean, carrying a slight chill that bit just a little, the kind that meant the day would warm up later. The sun was just climbing, casting long shadows down the narrow side road where his house was. It was peaceful with only the distant, muffled sounds of the city beginning to wake up.
He walked at an easy pace, step by step, his hands in his jacket pockets.He followed the familiar route from his quiet neighborhood to the main commercial street.
Soon, the narrow road opened up onto the wider main road. Cars were starting to appear, and a few people were walking to work or opening shop shutters. About halfway down the block was the restaurant he'd seen many times. It was a modest place with a large glass window and a simple sign that just said "Diner." He'd never gone in before, because Anya always had food ready at home. But today, he wanted to be out.
He reached the door, a glass panel with a metal handle, and pulled it open. A small bell above the door jingled.
It felt warm as soon as you stepped inside, and the rich, welcoming smell of coffee filled the air. Along one side of the room stretched a long counter, with round stools lined up in front of it. Against the opposite wall, a few high-backed booths offered more private seating.
An old man stood behind the counter, carefully wiping its shiny surface with a soft cloth. He was dressed in a plain white shirt, covered by a simple black apron. When the doorbell chimed, his eyes lifted from his work. Almost without thought, a polite and businesslike smile appeared on his face.
"Good morning! Have a seat," the old man said, his voice kind, gesturing towards an empty chair at the small table.
Kai gave a small nod in return and walked over to an empty booth by the window. The red vinyl seat creaked as he slid into it. He picked up the plastic-coated menu that was tucked behind a napkin holder.
Flipping it open, he was surprised. The first page wasn't just Japanese food. It listed all sorts of things: French fries, onion rings, cheeseburgers, club sandwiches, pasta with meat sauce, even an "American Style Breakfast Plate." It was like a menu from a different country. He turned the page. The next section was more what he expected: ramen, soba, udon, sets of grilled fish and rice, and tamagoyaki. This diner clearly served both locals and maybe tourists who wanted a taste of home.
Since he wanted something plain and easy like his everyday morning,his eyes went back to the part of the menu with the foreign foods.
A moment later, the old man walked over to the booth, a short pencil in one hand and a small notepad in the other. He stood ready, giving a patient nod.
Kai placed his order. "Just a plate of French fries, a veggie burger, and a cola, please."
With a quick scratch of his pencil, the old man wrote it down on his pad. "Coming right up," he said, his voice friendly. He then turned and headed back toward the kitchen, calling out the order in a clear voice.
Kai sat back and watched the street outside through the window. People passed by, busy with their own mornings. His mind drifted. He was out here to see if he could find Gingka. The protagonist should be in town by now. Part of him wanted to just run into him, to see the legendary Blader in person. Another part wanted to challenge him directly, to see how the Phoenix would fare against Gingka's Pegasus from the very start.
He also remembered Benkei, who had threatened him just yesterday.He knew it was smart to be aware of his surroundings, but the truth was, he felt no worries at all. In fact, he almost hoped they would show up. That way, he could settle things with both of them quickly and finally, in one single confrontation.
His order didn't take long. The plate of French fries was steaming hot and perfectly salty. The veggie burger was pretty good, and the cola was cold and helped wash everything down. He ate without hurry, using the quiet time to think over his plans.
When he was finished, he walked to the counter, paid for his meal, and left the exact cash with a little extra on the table as a thank you. Then, he pushed the door open and stepped back outside, into the bright light of the morning.
Feeling pleasantly full, Kai decided not to go straight home. Instead, he chose to walk a different way, exploring the narrow side streets and quiet alleys that ran behind the main shops. It seemed as good a plan as any for accidentally running into that boy with the spiky hair he was looking for.
He walked into an alley that was more like a service road, tucked behind the buildings. It was lined with the plain backs of stores and a couple of parked delivery trucks. The noisy main street felt far away here; everything was much more calm and still.
His mind was drifting, wondering if he should wait near the town's park or maybe the stadium, when a sharp, mocking voice suddenly broke the quiet.
It came from a branching alley up ahead on the left. The voice was loud, arrogant, and very familiar.
"Well, well. Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence."
Kai stopped walking. He slowly shifted his gaze toward the source of the voice.
Three figures stepped out from the mouth of the dark alley into the dull morning light of the side street. The one in front was Benkei, tall and thick with muscle, his bright purple hair still sticking up in those aggressive spikes. Flanking him were two other boys. They were leaner but had a mean, wiry strength about them. They wore identical ugly smirks, like they were already enjoying a show.
Kai didn't move a muscle. He had seen this coming since yesterday. He just loosely crossed his arms over his chest and stared right at Benkei. His voice was completely steady, even a little tired-sounding.
"What's wrong?" he said. "Did you forget what happened yesterday already? How you ran off like a frightened child? How you were so afraid you wet yourself?"A icy smile appeared on his lips as he finished speaking.
Benkei's face twisted up, turning an ugly shade of red. He remembered everything, of course. The shame of that moment was a burning memory he could never escape. But he could never, ever admit that happened—not in front of the two guys who followed him around. His whole image, his position as the tough enforcer, depended on them believing he was fearless.
"Don't you dare lie with your shameless mouth, you brat!" Benkei retorted, his voice a rough bark.
Then, suddenly, his angry expression vanished. It was like a mask had been swapped out. The redness faded from his face, and his scowl melted into a wide, stretched smile and it made his eyes look even colder.He had remembered his secret weapon—his boss, Kyoya, waiting in the wings.
"Our boss, Kyoya, has called for you," Benkei announced, puffing out his chest. "You're coming with us."He took a single step forward, lowering his voice to make his threat more threatening."And you will come. Because if you don't… we know where you live. That big house all by itself. We'll burn it to the ground. Your choice: walk with us now, or lose everything you have left."
The other two boys heard Benkei's threat. They crept forward, their smirks stretching into mean,cruel grins.
The first boy had a pointed nose. He stuck his finger right at Kai. "You heard him," he said, his voice full of mockery. "The boss wants you. You should be thanking us." He looked Kai up and down and laughed. "But look at you. Your eyes are all wet. Are you a baby? Do you need your daddy? Maybe you should just run home and hide under your blanket."
The second boy was taller and thinner. He let out a low, ugly laugh.
"Go ahead," he said, leaning in closer. "Run. We want you to run." His eyes were bright with a cruel idea. "That way, we get to follow you. Right to your house."
He grinned, showing his teeth. "We'll have a real good time there. Maybe we smash every window first. Just listen to the glass break." He mimed throwing a rock with his hand.
"Then we go inside," he continued, his voice dropping to a nasty whisper. "We'll break everything we see. Your table. Your chairs. Whatever little things you have. We'll break it all into pieces."
He leaned back, enjoying the picture in his head. "Then we'll pile all the broken bits right on your front step. A little present for you. And then… then we'll light the whole place up. Watch it burn."
At the same time, both of them broke into loud, mean laughter. It wasn't a happy sound. It was ugly, like the bark of a dog.
Their mouths hung open, and one could see their crooked, yellow teeth.
Kai didn't waste his attention on the two smaller bullies. In his mind, they weren't even real threats. They were just like two little puppies, yapping and nipping because their big dad dog was watching.
So Kai looked right past the puppies. He ignored their noise completely. His eyes stayed fixed on the one -the big dog dad.
It was really strange to see. Just the day before, Benkei had been destroyed in the battle. He was terrified, trembling, and completely defeated. But now, here he was, standing straight and full of shaky confidence.
So why the big change? The reason was probably his boss, Kyoya. Kyoya had seen Benkei lose, which made the whole gang look bad. To fix this, Kyoya likely said something like, "Fine, bring that idiot here. I'll handle him myself." So now, Benkei thinks his boss's protection makes him untouchable. He believes nothing can hurt him.
But this safety is just an illusion. It didn't actually make Benkei stronger or smarter. In fact, it did the opposite. It made him cocky, reckless, and blindly obedient—like a dumb dog who thinks he's tough just because his owner.
Kai took a single, smooth step forward.
Benkei, however, reacted as if he'd been pushed. Even after all his loud boasting, his body betrayed him. He shuffled back half a step without even thinking. The reason was simple: he couldn't forget how completely Kai had beaten him just the day before. That painful memory was stuck in his muscles, making them flinch on their own.
He stopped his retreat almost immediately, but it was too late. He felt the hot rush of embarrassment in his cheeks. He was angry—furious at himself for showing fear, even for a second. To cover up that flash of weakness, he shouted, his voice growing louder and rougher.
"You'd better remember!" he yelled, pointing a shaking finger. "You touch me, and Kyoya will make you pay! He'll never let this go! If you dare to hurt me, you'll spend every last day of your miserable life wishing you hadn't!"
The two boys who had come with Benkei saw him take that half-step backward. Just a moment before, they had been sneering and laughing, ready to enjoy the show. But now, their mocking sounds cut off sharply, as if someone had grabbed the laughter right out of their throats.
A heavy silence fell over them. Their grins vanished. Instead, their eyes grew wide and watchful, glued to Kai and then back to Benkei. They didn't turn and flee, but they certainly didn't move forward to stand at their friend's side. They were stuck in place, caught between their loyalty and their own sudden sense of caution.
Their bodies grew tight with nervous energy. They watched Benkei's face, waiting for a signal—a shout, a nod, any command to attack. They were like two springs coiled tight, ready to jump into the fight the second Benkei gave the word.
Kai moved forward again, another slow and steady step closing the distance between them. On the outside, nothing about him seemed different. Through all of Benkei's shouting and threats, his face had stayed perfectly calm, like still water, showing no anger or worry.
But inside Kai, something important had changed. A line had been crossed. Their threats weren't just against him anymore; they had spoken against his home. That quiet place was everything to him. It was the house where he could still smell his mother's cooking in the air sometimes, and where his father's old tools sat in the shed, waiting for hands that would never use them again. It held the last pieces of the life and the love his parents had left for him in this world,in this life.
By threatening that, they had touched something they never should have.
Kai took one final step and then stopped, now standing uncomfortably close to Benkei. They were near enough that Benkei could see the unblinking focus in Kai's eyes. When Kai finally spoke, his voice had changed completely. It wasn't loud, but it wasn't the flat tone from before, either. It was low, clear, and carried a new, quiet weight that made the air feel colder.
"Benkei," Kai said, "Your dirty words have just killed my good mood." He stopped talking and let the words sit there between them. The silence grew heavy. The only sound was Benkei's breathing, a little nervous and shaky. Kai waited, watching Benkei sweat. Then he went on. "So, good for you. I'll come with you."
He saw a little spark of victory begin in Benkei's eyes, but Kai wasn't done.
"I'll come with you," he said again, his voice now low and dangerous. "But only because, after I tear apart your so-called 'Boss' Kyoya, I want to see the look on your face. It will be wonderful. Won't it?"
For a second, Benkei thought he had won. You could see it in his eyes. Then it was gone. That look was replaced by something else. It was the look of a man who doesn't understand what's happening right in front of him. A pure, simple doubt.
This kid, Kai, didn't show a trace of fear. Not a flicker. Benkei had spoken the name "Kyoya." In this city, that name was more than a word. It was a season. It was the winter that lived in the bones of the place. Men who carried knives for a living would feel their shoulders tighten at the sound of it. Conversations in grimy noodle shops would suddenly drop into whispers, words swallowed whole. People planned their routes home to avoid certain streets, all because of the shadow that name cast.
But Kai? He didn't shift his weight. He didn't stiffen. His face remained what it was before—a flat, unmoving plane. The silence after the name hung there, heavy with all the things it usually made people do. Kai just let it hang. And then he didn't just answer back; he spoke of tearing the man apart. Not fighting. Not challenging. Tearing apart. Like he was talking about a piece of paper, or a cheap suit. He said it into that thick, expectant silence, and the casualness of it was the most terrifying thing of all. It made Benkei's own fear taste sour in his mouth.
Then, into that heavy silence, Kai's voice came again.
"Lead the way," Kai said.
He let his arms fall from his chest. He did it slowly, without any hurry. Then he raised his hand and pointed straight ahead, past Benkei's shoulder. He wasn't pointing like a prisoner being shown where to go. He was pointing like a boss telling his worker where to walk. He looked like the one giving the orders now.
Anyone watching would understand. He wasn't being taken to see Kyoya. He was going to see Kyoya.They had made a mistake. They had stepped over a boundary that should not have been crossed. Perhaps they thought there was no line there at all. But there was. And now, because of their action, he was moving.He was going there to face it. To settle this matter himself, directly.
...
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