Usumi clutched his head the moment he was fully out of sight, fingers tightening like something inside him had slipped its leash. A rough sound forced its way out of him—half breath, half strain—before he could contain it. Deep in his chest, his heartbeat faltered, uneven and heavy, as if his body itself had lost sync under the pressure building through him.
He leaned into the nearest wall, forcing air in slow, uneven pulls, like breathing alone might keep him anchored in place.
But it didn't stay settle.
Not the memories.
Not the way they came—fragmented, wrong, overlapping: children's voices cut short, distant screaming that didn't belong in any place that should still be standing, bodies reduced to unrecognizable forms.
His jaw tightened, teeth grinding as the thoughts dragged on longer than he wanted, the images refusing to fade from his mind.
"Not again," he whispered, the words dragged out like they had weight behind them. "It won't happen again…"
[Usumi… what do you mean "not again"? Are you alright?] Juna's voice crackled suddenly through his earpiece.
"It's nothing," he said quickly, steadying his breath as he wiped his mouth without thinking. "Just stepped on something gross, that's all."
He straightened up, forcing his posture back into place, like nothing had happened at all. "Finally ready to assist me, huh?" His tone leveled out again, faint edge returning. "Took you guys long enough."
[Yeah, sorry… so, uh—what did you step on? Like gum or something?]
"Yeah… or somethin'," he muttered, moving forward toward the music. "Got eyes on me yet?"
[No, not yet, but I've cut the recordings like you asked—for now.]
"Good."
He slipped behind a pillar, hugging the wall as he passed the wide open doorway—easily thirty feet across. To his left, the entrance yawned into a concert hall flooded with more sound, and bass rolling out in dull, rhythmic pulses.
[Usumi.]
"What is it, Juna?" he asked, peeking out from behind the pillar.
[I have you on my feed… though you do look rather suspicious hiding like that.]
"…Tch." He pushed off the wall, slipping past the edge of the doorway. "You're right—but I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion."
[I suppose not. But to anyone watching, you'd look like a particularly questionable guest.]
His shoulders loosened slightly as her voice stayed steady in his ear. With her visual on him, the tension in his posture eased, and he stepped out of the shadows more fully, letting himself blend into a natural walking pace.
"Just keep watch. Let me know if anyone's heading my way, alright?"
He moved a few steps further, the inside of the main arena opened up beside him. A band was on stage, throwing out a heavy metal set—loud, chaotic, almost drowning the already loud space in even more reckless noise. He barely acknowledged it, letting it pass by in his periphery as he kept walking.
Juna was quick to add something anyway.
[Reminding you of the good old days?]
Usumi glanced toward the stage, looked at it for a moment, then looked away again. "Something like that… though I wouldn't really call it good," he replied.
After a brief pause, Juna spoke again, her voice softer this time.[ He was the one who taught you drums, wasn't he? My father. I remember he was… quite proficient with instruments. ]
Usumi's steps slowed just slightly. "…Yeah. He was a kind man."
[You are as well… so don't let yourself forget it.]
Usumi let out a quiet breath under his nose. "Thanks. Try not to repeat that too often."
He stood there for a moment, maybe even longer than necessary, as the noise seemed to fade for an instant before the arena's sound pressed back in around him, and then he finally moved again.
[Usumi. Two of them. Dressed like the pair from earlier—approaching from your left.]
Usumi didn't hesitate. He pulled his cloak all the way up and leaned against a nearby pillar, bringing a hand up to his ear like he was mid-call.
"—No, thaaat's not gonna work," he slurred, voice louder than necessary. "I told you… I told you to make me meat. Meat. Not— not stew. Who the hell wants stew when they could have an actual meal?"
Usumi dragged a hand down his face, pacing a step like he was irritated beyond reason.
"I've been out all day—all day—and that's what you come up with? Seriously… unbelievable…"
He swayed slightly, then caught himself on the pillar like he'd almost forgotten it was there.
The two men passed without a second glance.
Juna felt slightly flustered by the way his words came through the earpiece—so direct they almost felt personal.
[Ahem.] Juna cleared her throat, though Usumi probably didn't even notice, before forcing herself back into composure.[You're clear… But I'm surprised you didn't incapacitate them. That seems to be your usual preference in similar situations.]
"Wasn't necessary," he replied, glancing back at them. "No point causing problems if it can be avoided."
[Observation noted… you are kind.]
"…Tch… don't start with that," he groaned, already turning the corner.
"Alright. Where to?"
[First door ahead… though I'm still curious—why stew? I distinctly remember making stew for you not long ago. You're not referring to mine, are you? ]
"W-well… talk about it later."
[ What?!"] she blurted in confusion. [I didn't actually think you were serious—]
Usumi's hand snapped up as he neared the door, silencing her mid-thought.
"Anyone inside?" he murmured, voice dropping again into focus.
[No camera feed shows any presence in there… but I did notice something. There's a necklace—it's on the same network as the target channel. Looks like storage… or a display. If it's convenient, perhaps you could retrieve it as well?]
"Not really important right now…" Usumi sighed.
[…I suppose you're right. I could simply save the footage and admire that magnificent necklace—with its signal relay and extended range module— when we get back home. ]
"Ugh…" Usumi exhaled through his nose. "If I have time, I'll swipe it."
[Thank you for your cooperation, senpai.]
Without another word, Usumi lifted his foot and drove it into the door. The hinges gave instantly—wood cracking as it tore free—just as he stepped forward, walking through it mid-fall without breaking stride.
As crash barely registered. The heavy noise from the arena beyond the doorway swallowed it instantly, rolling on as if nothing had happened.
Usumi dialed something on his earpiece as a faint light flickered into existence along the side of his face.
"That's gotta be it, right?" he asked.
[should double-check just in case]
He walked up to the bag sitting on the shelf. Opening it, he found the chips inside.
"Good job, Juna."
[As always,] she added.
But something else in the bag caught his attention.
A glove.
Not oversized, not small—precisely fitted. Slim. Structured. Made of old black leather, stiff with age rather than use. It wasn't protective gear or utility wear. It looked… controlled. Deliberate. Like it was made to restrain more than to protect.
He turned it over.
Stamped into the inner seam—faded but unmistakable—was corporate text.
"PROPERTY OF CHI CORP."
The arena noise kept going beyond the door, but it stopped feeling like background sound. It became distance. Separation.
His fingers hovered just above the glove.
[Usumi? Did you find something?]
"Not sure… some kind of glove. Don't know why it's here, but it's not important to us anyway."
A pause.
"…Alright. I'm heading back. We'll leave this place."
Usumi turned without hesitation and began walking the same path he had come from, his steps steady and exact.
[A prolonged return journey home… how tiresome.]
"Yeah? Thought you liked watching the scenery."
[Of course I do. But traversing it at length dulls the experience. It becomes less observation… more endurance.]
"I like long walks."
Before Juna could continue her complaint about them—
[M-me too— I was joking, of course. ]
"Oh—so you do like it."
[Yes. I do.]
A brief pause.
"…And you enjoy long walks?"
[ "Yeah," she said. "I suppose I do. Long walks are… acceptable." ]
Usumi exhaled a small laugh, catching the hesitation immediately.
"You don't have to adjust yourself like that," he said.
[I am not adjusting myself. I am merely agreeing. There is a difference.]
He glanced slightly to the side as he walked.
"Not really," he replied. "It sounds the same. Like you're trying to match me instead of just answering."
That made her quiet for a moment.
Then Usumi's tone softened, losing its earlier edge.
"It's fine if you don't like the things I like. You don't have to bend yourself just to fit into a conversation."
[…I see,] she said after a pause.
Usumi let out a quiet breath.
"I like you better when you're just… you," he added. "Not when you're copying me."
A longer silence settled between them as he walked on.
Then, quieter—almost as if speaking to himself more than her—
"Trust me… you don't want to end up like me."
As soon as he turned the corner—
A violent thud blasted through the feedback of the earpiece, making Juna yelp from the other side.
Before he could react, something slammed into him and knocked him flat onto his back.
"Usumi, you rotten sack of shit—there you are!"
It was Korai.
She landed right on top of him, chest pressed against his like she owned the damn space. Usumi immediately shoved her off with one hand, already annoyed.
"The hell are you doing here?" he muttered, pushing himself up. His eyes flicked over her once—pausing.
She wasn't dressed like usual.
It wasn't her typical revealing, chaotic outfit. Instead, she had on something more restrained—almost plain by her standards. Stripped of her usual excess, it didn't look bad; if anything, it suited her in an unfamiliar way, slightly softer and almost youthful compared to her usual sharp, aggressive presence. Like she was trying to pass as normal, and nearly getting away with it. Usumi didn't seem to care either way.
"…You lose a bet or something?" he asked flatly.
Korai's expression snapped instantly.
"The fuck's that supposed to mean?" she barked.
Before he could even look away, she grabbed the edge of her skirt and yanked it up slightly with zero hesitation, flashing a cocky grin like she was proving a point rather than reacting to one.
"What about this kiddy underwear?" she snapped, twisting to show the back. "Look at this—stupid little cartoon bear."
Usumi didn't even bother looking down.
Instead, his eyes shifted to the car keys Korai was twirling around her finger like she'd stolen the damn vehicle.
"Seriously?" she clicked her tongue. "Not even a peek? You're getting boring, Usumi."
Usumi exhaled through his nose, already done with this interaction. "You broke into my space, tackled me, then started a fashion exhibition I didn't ask for. What part of that was supposed to be interesting?"
[U-usumi, are you alright? W-what was that sound? A-and what are you looking at?]
"I'm not looking at anything," he said flatly. Then, after a short pause, "It's just our usual pain in the ass. I'm fine."
Juna practically bounced with relief.
[Thank goodness… does that mean we dont need to walk back? ]
"Yeah," Usumi answered. "Get outta there and wait for me outside."
[Yes! Alright, Usumi, we'll be waiting!]
"Oi, I'm talking to you, asshole!" korai snaped
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you already," he muttered as he took the earpiece off and slipped it into his pocket. "Guess you showed up just in time to drive us back. C'mon, let's head back—"
"Back?" Korai tilted her head, smug amusement dripping from her voice. "Seriously, Usumi? You really wanna skip town after I came all the way out here?"
"…You do realize we had to walk all the way here because you took the damn car, right?" Usumi shot back immediately. "You've got zero room to talk right now."
Korai let out an exaggerated sigh. "And here I thought we could stick around and act like a couple'a damn hound dogs, y'know?"
She paused like she needed to over explain it or else he wouldn't get it.
"Fuck each other hot and sloppy in a mosh pit." she added, spreading her arms out wide, flipping them back side down with closed fist as she shot her pelvis forward thrusting her hips repeatedly.
Usumi scoffed, already fed up with her, and turned away. "Please. I've had enough of your nonsense for the week."
A Korai sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. "Aww finished already? And Pondaru was supposed to be useful as a distraction and everything… all that effort getting her on stage, what a fuckin' waste."
A soft, high-toned electric sound suddenly slipped into the air.
Usumi stopped.
"…What?..."
Korai's face shifted—her usual snarky grin returning, sharper now, almost predatory. "What's wrong, Usumi? Changed your mind already…" she said, expanding her grin even more.
The tone of the instrument climbed higher, testing itself like a tuning voice stretching into form. A sustained note held—then released—like it was readying something far more deliberate.
Usumi's breath caught. His heartbeat spiked as he turned sharply back toward her.
"Y-you're joking, right? Please tell me you're not serious!" he snapped.
The sound answered him immediately—faster now, brighter, slicing through the air in rising bursts of electric rhythm. What started as a playful tone sharpened into a relentless, accelerating pattern, each note stacking tighter than the last, like it was locking onto him.
Even at its peak, the sound didn't break.
Korai casually pulled out her phone, turning the screen toward him.
"Check out us with Sleeping Beauty."
It was a photo of her kissing Pondaru's cheek while Juno clung to her in a hug, and Juna was slumped out cold in the background.
"Y-you're psychotic!" Usumi growled, grabbing Korai by the front of her shirt and yanking her closer.
Her phone nearly slipped from her fingers, but she caught it at the last second and shoved it into her bra like it was nothing, barely reacting to him at all.
She glanced down at his grip, irritation flickering for a split second before she scoffed.
"Oi—hands off the merchandise, asshole. You almost made me drop my phone, and you're wrinkling my clothes—"
"Why would you bring her here?" Usumi cut in, completely ignoring the complaint. His grip tightened slightly. "Why?"
Korai's eyes lifted back to his, calm—almost amused. "Why'd you bring Juna and Juno out here?" she shot back.
Usumi froze. "…What?"
"You brought those brats into this mess," she continued, voice light but cutting. "So why are you mad I brought mine, huh?"
She tilted her head slightly, watching him closer now.
"And you look worse than when I said I wanted to sell her," Korai muttered. Her eyes flicked down toward his hand gripping her clothes. "Your hands are shaking like you actually wanna hit something." A faint smile pulled at her lips. "What, you finally gonna hit me?"
Usumi's eyes dropped to his hands.
They were shaking. Violently.
The moment he registered it, he let go—dropping Korai back onto her feet like he'd been burned.
His other hand snapped over it, gripping tight as if he could force it to stop. His breathing turned uneven, sharp—like his body was moving faster than he could understand.
"The little twerp said she wanted to see you. And don't forget—you're the one who's weak right now. I've heard about that cut on your arm. If you can't even handle a rig then—"
"A rig," he repeated, finally letting go of his arm. "Who the hell told you a rig did this, idiot?"
"Idiot?" she snapped, irritation flaring. "Don't go calling your sex toy an idiot, you damn bastard."
"Stop saying crap like that already," Usumi shot back immediately. "Just—get out of here. Take Juno and Juna and get them home."
Korai scoffed. "Huh? And why the hell do I gotta do that?"
"You want to keep staying at my place, right?" he said, clicking his tongue. "Then do it. I've got plenty of reasons to kick you out already, so don't push your luck."
"You're saying you want me to leave you?" Korai tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Yeah. I'm going to get that little girl."
"Then let's just get her and leave together."
Usumi immediately grabbed her arm. "Not you," he said firmly. "I need to take care of something with her on the way back. You go ahead—I'll return on my own."
His grip lingered a second longer than necessary before loosening, like he was already tired of the argument before it even fully formed.
"Don't make this complicated."
Korai clicked her tongue, already half-turned away. "Your priorities are kinda fucked, you know that?"
"Don't even—"
"You shitty lolicon," she tossed over her shoulder with a grin, already walking off like she'd landed the final hit.
Usumi exhaled slowly, forcing the last of Korai's chaos out of his head as he moved.
"...She said she was on stage, right?" he muttered under his breath. "Only people up there should be performing. Maybe she's being humiliated… or—" His jaw tightened slightly.
"No. I need to get there first."
The crowd thickened fast.
Bodies pressed in from every direction, cutting off sightlines so completely that the stage had become little more than flickers of light above a shifting sea of shoulders and raised phones. Whatever was happening up there was hidden, swallowed by the density of the crowd.
Usumi clicked his tongue.
"Out of the way," he muttered, pushing forward.
There was no response.
He pushed harder. "Move."
Still nothing.
His patience broke.
"Get the hell out of my way."
This time he didn't wait. He forced a path through the crowd, shoulders driving forward with blunt, controlled pressure. Complaints rose behind him, but he ignored every one of them. His attention stayed fixed ahead, drawn by the sound that refused to make sense.
The music was wrong in a way he couldn't immediately explain. It was too fast, yet not chaotic. Too complex, yet not messy. It didn't feel improvised or careless. It felt structured—deliberate, as if every note had been placed with intent.
By the time he broke through the last line of people, the stage finally came into view.
And he stopped.
She stood alone on the stage, gripping a makeshift electric guitar—something that looked half-built, half-improvised, like it had been pulled from scraps and stubborn intent.
And yet it fit her hands like it had been waiting for her—like it had always known where it was meant to end up.
Her fingers moved with a precision that didn't match her size or age—too clean, too practiced, too controlled. The sound pouring from the speakers wasn't just music anymore; it layered and folded into itself, bending the air with its rhythm as if the space around her had begun to respond.
She was playing something that shouldn't have been possible for someone who still looked like they belonged in a playground, not under stage lights with a guitar bigger than half her frame.
Behind him, the crowd had gone quiet in scattered confusion, uncertain what they were even witnessing.
Usumi's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…That's impossible…"