Miyako Fukanora stood at the threshold of Kaito’s room again, arms crossed, nose wrinkled.

"Still smells like depression and microwaved piss."

But this time, she wasn’t here to complain. She was here to dig.

She shut the door behind her, locked it out of habit, and started picking through the chaos.

Desk drawers? Empty wrappers, old receipts, a knife that definitely wasn’t for cooking. She pushed past it all, searching for something that explained who this guy was — and why she kept waking up inside his body.

She checked under the bed next.

Ramen cups. Socks. A pair of boxers that had turned into something unholy.

But then — wedged behind a shoebox — she found a folder. Black. Thick. Taped shut like it was meant to stay that way.

She peeled the tape slowly.

Inside: papers. Notes. Names. Maps. Schedules.

All sharp, hand-written. Some in pen. Others in red marker.

She flipped through them.

Dajikana.

The name was everywhere. In symbols. In seals. In codewords.

Gang meeting times. Zone claims. Shakedown spots. Graffiti tags.

Dajikana wasn’t just a gang. It was a full-on war machine.

And at the top of every meeting note, one name was circled over and over.

"Renjou Kaito — Vice Commander."

Miyako’s breath caught.

Second-in-command.

She stared at the handwriting — confident, fast, scrawled in a way that said "I don’t ask permission."

She turned the page. A map of their turf — a whole sector of the city carved into zones like territory on a game board.

Borderlines were drawn thickest between one name:

Dajikana vs Sakuraji.

Sakuraji — the rival gang.

Their territory bled right up against Kaito’s.

And judging by how many "X" marks were scrawled along the border… things were about to explode.

She flipped faster now. Photos paper-clipped together — guys in black coats, motorcycles, baseball bats, blood. Everything screamed escalation.

But nowhere — not once — was her name mentioned.

No Miyako.

No school.

No normal life.

Just Kaito’s world, built on violence, loyalty, and a war he was neck-deep in.

And now... so was she.