“What the hell have you done?!” Raito barked, fury twisting his face as his fists trembled. Aoi met his glare with a blank stare, straightening her posture.

“No…” Ayane’s voice cracked as she stumbled a step backward, eyes wide. “No, no, no! Not them! Anyone but them!”

“Black hooded jacket…” Rikuya muttered, his face paling as realization dawned. “…with crimson claw marks on the sleeves…”

Mei’s calm tone followed, though a rare shadow crossed her expression. “Kurohyou.”

Mitsuru stiffened instantly, his jaw tight.

“Great,” Misora sighed, pressing a hand to her temple. “I leave for five minutes and now this?”

“You idiot!” Raito exploded, lunging forward to grab Aoi by the collar. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?!”

Aoi slapped his hand away, her voice low. “Hands off me.”

“You—!”

“Enough.” Misora’s firm voice cut between them as she held Raito back, her grip steady on his shoulder. “Losing your head won’t fix this.”

“Aoi.” Mei’s calm voice carried through the tension as she took a step forward. “…What happened here?”

Aoi parted her lips to answer—when a faint grunt broke the silence. Every head turned. The hooded girl was somehow standing, blood dripping from her split lip.

“Why am I not surprised? The Nightingales…” She clutched her side, her breath ragged, but her eyes—burning gray—locked on Aoi with seething hatred.

“The hell?!!” she roared, her eyes white with rage as Ayane and Rikuya stiffened in fear, with Mei and Mitsuru shielding them in defense. Aoi kept her guard up, forming a small battle stance as Raito and Misora did the same.

Then, with a guttural cry, she sprang upward, bouncing off the alley walls with unnatural speed before landing on a rooftop.

“No way…” Rikuya breathed. “She’s still moving after that?”

The girl paused, glaring down at them with pure venom. Then she vanished into the night.

“Wait!” Aoi started after her, but—

“Aoi, stop.” Misora’s voice was sharp, steady. “She’s gone. Let her go.”

“We’re screwed,” Ayane muttered, her voice trembling. “We’re so screwed…”

“Calm down, Ayane,” Mei soothed, gently rubbing her back.

“But she’s right, though!” Rikuya snapped, his hands shaking, “You all should know that what we’ve just witnessed isn’t exactly the right time to calm down!”

“Kurohyou…” Mitsuru started grimly as all eyes turned to him, “They’re not just any gang. They’re shadows—stealth, hierarchy, violence. The Kurohyou are Sayonaki High’s main rival… especially the Nightingales.”

“Right,” Mei nodded. “Their rise began the same year Sayonaki High was rebuilt under Ryo and Reina.”

“And that wasn’t just a random member,” Rikuya added, swallowing hard. “She’s one of the Night Claws—the Kurohyou’s elite female division. The deadliest among them.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Misora interjected, her calm tone cutting through the panic. “Freaking out won’t help. What’s done is done.” She crossed her arms, expression steely. “We report this to Ryo and Reina. Now.”

“Wait, we’re actually telling them?!” Ayane yelped.

“Of course,” Misora said simply, looking over her shoulder. “It concerns them—and her.” Her eyes flicked to Aoi. “You’ll explain everything when we get there.”

Aoi shrugged, slipping her hands into her pockets. “Fine by me.” She turned to follow Misora.

Raito’s fists clenched again as he watched her walk away, teeth grinding.

“Don’t,” Mitsuru warned lightly.

“Don’t what?” Raito snapped, rounding on him. “Tell me to calm down again, and I swear—!”

……………

The Abandoned Subway Station, below the city, Sokyoshi’s industrial district. A silver panther head stayed spray-painted across the main tunnel.

The sound of dripping water echoed through the hollow tunnels, each drop landing like a clock tick in the stale air. Neon light flickered weakly from a half-broken sign, casting shifting glows of crimson and blue against graffiti-marked walls.

Footsteps— uneven, hurried, limping. A shadow stumbled through the narrow corridor. Yuri Katsuya, one of the Night Claws, dragged herself along the concrete wall, one arm clutched against her ribs. Her black hooded jacket sported specks of dust and blood.

She passed through the rusted gate that marked the entrance to ‘The Den’— the Kurohyou’s main base beneath the city. The scent of oil and smoke mixed with damp air. The low thrum of music echoed from deeper within, where gang members lounged under hanging lights and cracked screens.

A few heads turned as Yuri appeared.  Two hooded figures lingered in the alley’s shadowed space—one crouched against the wall, idly twirling a pen between her fingers, while the other stood beside her, arms folded, one foot pressed lazily to the wall.

“What the hell happened to you?!” one of the males at the table muttered, standing up as he made his way to her.

“Did someone jump you?” another asked, half-grinning but wary, earning a glare from his friend helping Yuri.

She didn’t answer at first. She stumbled forward, breathing hard, then slammed her fist into a steel beam to steady herself.

“It was a girl…” she hissed between breaths. “A blue-haired brat— from Sayonaki.”

“A Nightingale?” someone said, voice low.

“What? Why would a Nightingale attack you out of nowhere?” the boy, helping her, snarled.

“She seemed to be a first-year,” Yuri breathed, remembering the small white feather-shaped pin on the girl’s jacket. “Tch. She got lucky.” She spat to the side, smearing blood from her lip. “I let my guard down.”

“Blue-haired brat?” a female voice called out, drawing everyone’s attention to a hooded figure leaning casually in the corner, one hand resting on her hip. A male stood beside her; his arm draped loosely around her shoulders.

“Her eyes wouldn’t happen to be lavender, would they?” the girl asked with a crooked smirk.

“What of it?” Yuri replied, brow arched.

The hooded girl chuckled, brown eyes glinting with mischief. “So, it really is her… Aoi Sakuraba.”

The two figures by the wall froze at the name. The one idly twirling a pen paused mid-spin before resuming, while her companion’s lips curved into a cold, knowing grin.

“You know her, babe?” the man asked, while the brown-eyed girl let out an unsettling smirk.

The room’s low chatter quieted. A few exchanged looks. Kurohyou and the Night Claws weren’t supposed to lose— not to anyone from Sayonaki.

Then the sound of heels clicked against the concrete floor. Slow, deliberate. From the shadows beyond the main room, a young woman emerged— a black coat with a silver panther head symbol on her back, flowing behind her like a curtain of ink. Long, deep chestnut brown hair tied up in a ponytail with sideswept bangs cascaded down to her lower back. Her amber eyes, clear and sharp, cut through the dim light, hands tucked casually in her fitted jeans tactical pants. Her presence alone silenced the entire den.

Miyako Kaneko, the leader of Kurohyou and the Night Claws.

“So,” she said softly, her tone a calm that carried more threat than any shout, “one of my Claws returns… bloodied… by a student?”

Yuri dropped her gaze instantly, bowing her head. “Forgive me, Kaneko-sama… she interfered—”

“Interfered?” Kaneko’s voice sharpened. “Or exposed your weakness?”

She circled Yuri slowly, her boots echoing on the concrete. Then she crouched, her gloved hand lifting Yuri’s chin slightly. A faint smirk played on her lips— not kind, not cruel, but calculating.

“Aoi Sakuraba…” Kaneko repeated the name, letting it linger like smoke. “Interesting. A Nightingale who thinks she can claw back.”

The girl squatting by the wall froze mid-spin, then snapped the pen clean in half between her fingers. Her partner pushed off the wall, one hand raised lazily.

“Hey boss, sorry to interrupt but…” she said, her eyes glinting with mischief, “… could you let us in on this too?”

Kaneko’s eyes narrowed. “And why’s that?”

The one who had been crouching rose to her feet, her face still hidden beneath the hood.

“Let’s just say we have some unfinished business with the culprit in question, that’s all,” the girl beside her replied coolly, giving a light shrug.

“And me as well,” the brown-eyed girl added, folding her arms with a knowing smirk. “You of all people should understand why.”

Kaneko’s lips curved into a grin. “Oh?” She arched a brow, amused. “… very well then.”

She rose, turning to the rest. “Inform the others. Kurohyou and the Night Claws will pay Sayonaki a visit soon.” Then her gaze returned to Yuri— eyes cold but gleaming.

“Rest, Yuri. You’ll have a chance to make this right.”

Yuri bowed again, her fist tightening against her chest as Kaneko walked off— her silhouette swallowed by the tunnel’s dim light.

The Den fell back into motion, but quieter now. The name Aoi Sakuraba hung in the air like a spark waiting to ignite a storm.

………..

Ayane mumbled under her breath, faint blue lines of despair practically hovering over her head. Aoi walked ahead, unfazed, while Raito trailed behind, shooting her a sharp glare.

“Ayane’s officially lost it,” Mei teased lightly with her usual calm smile.

“Yeah?” Mitsuru smiled with a sweat drop, “Rikuya isn’t any better.”

The group turned to see the ash-brown-haired boy muttering to himself, head hanging low.

They’re birds of the same feather, Mei and Mitsuru thought in unison.

“We’re here,” Misora announced, stopping in front of a small shop. Even Ayane and Rikuya snapped out of their sulks, looking up at the sign glowing under the fluorescent light.

“Sora Kitchen?” Mitsuru read aloud.

“Yeah. A community kitchen… a place where locals sometimes gather to cook and share meals.” Misora explained, pulling out her phone. “Ryo and Reina are likely in there.” She added while tapping on her device.

“Why here, though?” Aoi arched a brow.

“Beats me.” Misora shrugged, glancing back at them over her shoulder. “Either way, let’s just make this quick.”

…………

“Almost there…” Ryo murmured, tongue poking out as he focused on the sizzling pan. He guided the eggs with precise movements of his chopsticks, spiraling the mixture until it formed a golden curtain.

Reina and the restaurant’s elderly owner, Mrs. Sora, watched in suspense as Ryo carefully slid the omelet over two mounds of fried rice. The eggs glistened under the kitchen light, perfectly glossy.

“Just one more…” he breathed, finishing the final touch before stepping back with a triumphant grin. “It’s finally done~”

Mrs. Sora clasped her hands together. “Beautifully done, Ryo.”

“You really did it.” Reina’s eyes sparkled as she smiled at him. “I’m proud of you.”

Ryo rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks warming. “Thanks, Reina.”

The older woman chuckled and set the plates on their table. “Enjoy your meal, you two.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Sora!” they chimed together before taking their seats.

“Alright,” Reina giggled. “Moment of truth.”

“Pfft, it’s obviously good. I made it,” Ryo teased.

“We’ll see about that.” She reached for her phone. “But first—picture time!” One flash later, she tucked it away. “Okay, now we can eat.”

Ryo smirked, scooping a bite from her plate. “Then allow me,” he said, holding out the spoon.

Reina raised an eyebrow but leaned forward, a small blush spreading across her cheeks. “Alright, aah~”

Just then, the door slid open. Both heads turned—Misora stood at the entrance, followed by six others. The entire group froze at the sight: Ryo holding the spoon, Reina’s lips still around it.

“Apologies for interrupting your… date,” Misora said flatly. Ryo and Reina went bright red. Mitsuru, Ayane, and Rikuya quickly averted their eyes, while Raito facepalmed. Aoi remained unimpressed, one brow raised. Mei, of course, smiled serenely.

“N-no, you weren’t interrupting anything!” Ryo stammered, jumping up with an awkward laugh.

Reina hid her face in her hands. “This is so embarrassing…”

“Sorry,” Misora repeated.

Reina shook her head quickly. “No, no, really—it’s fine!”

Ryo slumped into his seat with a sigh. Great. There goes our date. “How’d you even know we were here?” he grumbled.

Misora shrugged. “You asked me yesterday what dish to make for a special occasion. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”

Ryo groaned, crossing his arms. “Damn you, Misora. Sneaky as always.”

Reina giggled softly. “Oh, don’t pout. It’s fine, Ryo.” She brushed his cheek gently, her touch easing his sulk. “Anyway,” she said warmly to the others, “come sit! We’ll order something for everyone.”

“T-Thank you so much,” Ayane muttered carefully before stepping in after Misora.

“Thank you,” Rikuya also added, as everyone followed.

“It was supposed to be just the two of us…”  Ryo pouted with slumped shoulders, earning Reina’s light giggle.

“Now, now, Ryo. It’s okay,” she gently patted his shoulder. Once everyone settled, Aoi’s team sat across from Raito’s, teacups steaming between them. Reina turned toward Misora with a curious look.

“So, Misora—what’s this about?”

Ayane, Mitsuru, Mei and Rikuya exchanged uneasy glances, while Aoi and Raito, seated across from each other, maintained their flat expressions. Misora, seated by the table across of the duo, leaned forward, expression hardening.

“Ryo. Reina.” Her voice lowered, “… there’s trouble.” The lighthearted air vanished instantly. Ryo’s smile faded as Reina straightened beside him.

“Tell us everything,” Ryo said calmly, his tone edged with command.