The world was loud.
Explosions. Screams. Metal grinding against metal. Powers flashing like fireworks across Tokyo's broken skyline.
But to Haku?
Nothing.
No hesitation. No noise.
No world.
His body moved, but his mind tunneled—razor-sharp, blackout-focused on only one thing:
Kaze.
His brother.
He tore through alleys, vaulted fences, sprinted across car hoods and shattered pavement. Ran past street battles, monster screams, and streaming drones.
But none of it registered.
His eyes weren't just focused—they were weaponized.
That look wasn't human anymore.
It was purpose.
A laser-locked mind. A soul burning in one direction. Kaze or nothing.
[FLASHBACK]
A younger Haku—barely ten—sat on a swing, feet dangling. The sun was low, casting gold across the playground.
Next to him, a girl tilted her head. "You talk about your brother a lot."
"You don't understand," Haku said, voice small but certain."My brother's not just my brother."
He looked down at his hands."He was my first friend. My hero. My reason to believe in anything good."
"He taught me how to fight. How to lose. How to get back up."
The chains creaked in the silence.
The girl smiled at him
[FLASHBACK END]
Haku's viewer count surged.
1,200. 3,000.
5,000.
Mika's audience. Leeching over. Word was spreading.
But Haku didn't notice.
He hit the final rooftop like a bullet—sliding, breath sharp.
And then he saw it.
A parking lot below. Broken concrete. Burning cars. Screams.
Bodies.
Dozens—some unconscious, some twitching. Piled around one spot like insects drawn to fire.
And at the center—
Kaze.
Bloody.
Breathing hard.
Still standing.
His fists crackled faintly with lightning. His hoodie was half-shredded, his face bruised, chest heaving.
He looked like hell.
Surrounded. Twenty… no, thirty enemies. Some limping, some fresh. Hungry eyes. Swords drawn. Abilities glowing.
More coming from the alleys.
Haku's pulse hit critical.
Then—
Kaze looked up.
His gaze locked with Haku's.
His heart stuttered.
No.
Not you.
Why are you here?
He couldn't scream it.
Couldn't stop him.
Because before Kaze even opened his mouth—
BOOM.
Haku dropped.
Like a meteor.
Like every ounce of desperation and brotherly instinct collapsed into velocity.
One second: rooftop.
The next?
There.
Already behind Kaze.
A man lunged at Kaze from behind, blade raised, grinning like he'd won.
CRACK.
Haku's foot slammed into the side of his face like divine punishment.
The guy spun mid-air, limbs flailing, and hit the pavement like a doll flung by a child.
Everything stopped.
No one moved.
Even the ones charging froze.
And then—
Haku stood beside his brother.
No words.
Just presence. Just breath.
Like he'd always been there.
Like the world couldn't exist without him standing at that spot in that moment.
Kaze turned—slowly.
His face—shocked. Raw.
Eyes wide, lips parted.
"…What the hell…?"
He stared at his little brother like he'd come back from the dead. Or like he never knew who he was to begin with.
That look.
That expression.
And Haku?
Didn't flinch. Didn't blink.
Just stared ahead, eyes burning.
Because for the first time in a year…
He was beside Kaze again.
And this time?
He wasn't letting go.