Footsteps In The Dark

Broken Promises

Baji's knees buckled, his body giving way beneath him as the pain of his concealed wound tore through his resolve. Chifuyu's eyes widened in horror, darting accusingly toward Kisaki. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing," Kisaki replied with a shrug that didn't reach his cold eyes. His gaze lingered on the downed figure, calculating.

Takemichi's heart raced as he knelt beside Baji, peeling back the blood-soaked fabric to reveal the truth they had all missed – a deep, cruel laceration, courtesy of Kazutora. "It's worse than we thought," he gasped, his voice choked with panic.

"Get an ambulance!" Takashi barked across the chaos, signaling frantically to one of the members who sprinted off immediately.

"Kazutora really is insane..." Kisaki mused aloud, watching the scene with a twisted interest. "He brought Baji here to finish the job himself."

Mikey rose to his feet, his presence commanding silence even amidst turmoil. Takemichi's gaze flickered between Kisaki and Mikey, sensing the dangerous game Kisaki played with his words, baiting Mikey towards wrathful vengeance.

"Kazutora..." Mikey began, his voice low and deliberate, "I thought about killing you when you got out of juvie. But Baji... he stopped me."

Across the field, Ayame was a vision of agony, blood smeared across her mouth, sobs wracked through her as she did her best to get over to Baji with her current injuries.

Hanma stepped forward, arrogance painting his features. "You don't get to call this off, Mikey—"

His words were cut short as Mikey's foot connected with his jaw, sending Hanma crumpling to the earth, unconscious. The image of Mikey's raw power resonated like a thunderclap, and a ripple of fear spread through Valhalla's ranks. Many turned heel and fled, leaving a vacuum filled only by Mikey's cold fury.

"Who touched Ayame?" Mikey growled, his anger radiating palpably into the space around them.

Without waiting for an answer, Mikey strode toward Kazutora, who stood with a perverse calmness, as if welcoming the end he saw coming.

"Mikey, one of us has to die," Kazutora declared, his eyes hollow. "It was my order—I had them touch Ayame."

No sooner had the words left his lips than Mikey's fist crashed into Kazutora's face, igniting the brutal dance of fists and blood. Takemichi watched, his mind replaying Draken's haunting prophecy. Nothing was changing, nothing at all.

Kazutora, under the relentless assault, remembered Hanma's words, the seeds of doubt planted long ago. Baji, labeled an enemy, yet here he was, surrounded by those he called family.

And then, Kazutora remembered. The weight of the metal in his hand, the blood of another brother staining his soul, and Baji's unwavering loyalty amidst his own descent into madness.

"Join me, Baji," he whispered to himself, resigned to his fate, ready to embrace death as an old friend.

But fate twisted cruelly once more. Baji, summoning strength from unseen depths, stood and roared, "Mikey!"

Mikey froze mid-strike, turning to see Baji's staggering form, bloodied but unbowed. "Thanks for getting mad for me," Baji rasped, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

He walked past Mikey, towards Kazutora. "Don't worry. I'm not dying by your hands." With those words, Baji drew a knife and plunged it into his own flesh.

Chifuyu's boots skidded across the gravel as he and Takemichi reached Baji's side. The world seemed to mute around them, the distant commotions fading into a dull hum. Kneeling beside their fallen friend, they could see the life ebbing away from Baji's eyes, yet there was an urgent intensity in his gaze that commanded attention.