Footsteps In The Dark

Tumultuous Hearts

The cacophony of fists against flesh and the cries of combat rang through the air as Toman clashed with Valhalla. Toman's elite fighters, a whirlwind of precise violence, were carving through their opponents with seasoned ferocity. Takemichi Hanagaki, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, weaved through the chaos, desperate to find Baji amidst the fray.

But fate had other plans; a towering Valhalla thug intercepted him, swinging a meaty fist that Takemichi narrowly dodged. The fear was palpable in his chest, his breath coming out in short gasps. Just then, Kazutora made a beeline for Mikey, murder in his eyes. Draken intercepted with the force of a guardian deity, "You're not laying a finger on him," he growled, his very presence a barrier.

Before more could unfold, Shuji Hanma, a smirk playing on his lips, stepped in with the casual arrogance of someone who knew they were the wild card. With a shove that sent Draken stumbling, Hanma declared, "I'll take you on instead." Draken's eyes narrowed, accepting the challenge as Hanma freed Kazutora to continue his vendetta against Mikey.

In the meantime, Takemichi's skirmish was going south. A punch caught him square in the jaw, sending stars across his vision. He stumbled back, reeling from the hit, when suddenly Matsuya appeared, dispatching his assailant with a swift kick. "What are you doing here, Takemichi?" Matsuya chided, pulling him up by the collar. "We're here to fight. Focus!"

"Scared, huh?" Chifuyu's voice came from behind him, calm and steady. "Don't worry, I've got your back." He stood shoulder to shoulder with Takemichi, ready to face the fight. "Everyone's afraid here. It's what you do with that fear that counts."

Hinata's smiling face flashed in Takemichi's mind, the memory of her death sharpening his will like steel. Clenching his fists, he stepped forward, ready to meet the fray head-on.

Across the lot, Draken received grim news from Takashi—Valhalla outnumbered them, and their fighters were tougher, more experienced. Glancing around, he saw the truth of it; the younger Toman members were being battered, overwhelmed by sheer force.

"Sorry, Draken... I wish I could fight like you guys," a bruised and bloodied Toman member mumbled, shame in his eyes.

"Hey, don't apologize," Draken replied, placing a firm hand on the boy's shoulder. "I've got you covered. Just stay down and let me handle this."

As despair threatened to choke the resolve of Toman's weaker fighters, a voice cut through the din. Takemichi was there, in the thick of it, swinging wildly, shouting challenges at the top of his lungs. "Come on, Valhalla! I'll take you all on!"

His words were a lifeline, pulling the fallen members to their feet, igniting a fierce light in their eyes. They rallied, standing once again to join the fray.

Draken watched, a proud grin breaking across his face. With his comrades rallying, Draken charged forward, his every strike precise and devastating. Each opponent crumbled under the weight of his power until only Shuji Hanma remained standing before him.

"Let's finish this," Draken growled, and with a coiled burst of energy, he swung a titanic punch that sent Hanma careening through the air, landing several meters away in a cloud of dust and defeat.

Mikey's breath came out in steely puffs as he chased Kazutora up the precarious mountain of rusted vehicles. The unstable footing did little to slow him; his eyes were locked on the figure ahead, a shadow against the chaos below. Suddenly, a Valhalla captain leapt from behind a car hood, a metal bar swinging for Mikey's head. With practiced reflexes, Mikey raised his arm, blocking the blow, and countered with a swift punch that sent the attacker reeling.

"Thought you were better than this, Kazutora," Mikey spat, his eyes narrowing.

"Promises are cheap," Kazutora sneered, revealing his trap. "Meet Chonbo and Chome—the best of the worst from my days inside."