Ehito's cold gaze locked with the boy's, who was still on the ground, trying to catch his breath. His chest heaved as he struggled to rise. Blood stained his lips, his eyes swollen, but even in this sorry state, there was something about his defiance that made Ehito pause. The boy wasn't giving up — not entirely.
Ehito didn't say anything at first. He just stood there, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. It had been a long time since someone dared to challenge him, especially in such a reckless, blind way. But this boy, Natsuo, wasn't entirely foolish. He had a reason for doing this.
"You want to keep going?" Ehito asked, his voice almost indifferent. There was no malice, just an underlying weariness. He was exhausted by this fight, by this pointless encounter. It wasn't even about the boy anymore. It was about something deeper, something Ehito couldn't quite grasp.
Natsuo's hand twitched. "I'm not done."
Ehito snorted, a small, cynical smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "You're done when I say you are." His tone held no warmth, just the harsh reality of someone who had faced much worse and survived.
Without warning, Natsuo lunged at him again, throwing a weak punch that landed nowhere near its intended target. Ehito dodged effortlessly, his body moving with fluid precision. He wasn't even trying anymore. It was like watching a fly trapped in a web, struggling against its own entanglement. Pathetic.
Natsuo's face flushed with frustration. He was slow, uncoordinated, desperate. Ehito caught his wrist, twisting it with one fluid motion. The sound of bones creaking was almost satisfying, but Ehito didn't care. It was a minor thing, a small victory in a battle he hadn't even started.
"Why?" Ehito asked, his voice low, cold. "Why are you doing this?"
Natsuo grimaced, his lips trembling as he tried to speak. "You ruined him… You destroyed my brother."
Ehito stared at him, blank-faced. "Your brother?" he repeated, as if trying to remember. The name was unfamiliar, the events distant. His memory didn't immediately connect to Natsuo's words.
"Renji," Natsuo spat, his voice thick with bitterness. "You humiliated him. In front of everyone. He hasn't been the same since."
Ehito paused, his expression remaining neutral. He could vaguely recall the scene. A confrontation in the cafeteria. A boy who tried to act tough but couldn't back it up. He hadn't even looked at him long enough to remember his face. But the details, the consequences, were clear in Natsuo's eyes.
"Ah, that one," Ehito said, his tone dismissive. "The loudmouth. The one who tried to threaten me."
Natsuo's eyes widened with rage. "You ruined him! You broke him!"
Ehito's gaze hardened. "He destroyed himself. I didn't have to do anything."
The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Natsuo's body shook with rage, but there was an emptiness in his words now. He had nothing left to say, nothing left to fight for.
Ehito didn't offer any more words. He didn't need to. He was used to people misunderstanding him, misjudging him. It wasn't new. His past, his actions — none of it mattered now. All that mattered was the present. The here and now.
Without warning, Natsuo lunged at him one last time, fueled by desperation. Ehito moved before he even saw it coming. With a swift motion, he pinned Natsuo to the ground, his hand firmly on his chest. Natsuo gasped, his breath coming in short, frantic bursts. His chest heaved with the effort of trying to break free, but he was powerless.
Ehito's gaze softened, just for a moment. He wasn't interested in hurting him further. This fight was over. He let go of Natsuo, stepping back, his eyes cold but not unkind.
"Go home, Natsuo," Ehito said quietly, his voice softening for the first time. "And stay by your brother's side. He needs someone, more than he needs revenge."
With that, Ehito turned and walked away, his footsteps steady and unhurried. He didn't look back, but he could feel Natsuo's eyes following him, the boy left in the alley, defeated, yet somehow alive.
Ehito continued walking, his mind already moving on. He had other things to focus on, other matters that required his attention. But something lingered in the back of his mind. The boy's words, the anger, the resentment. It wasn't something Ehito could easily forget. Maybe, in the end, they weren't all that different.
As Ehito reached the end of the alley, he paused for a moment, looking into the distance. The quiet of the evening stretched around him like a thick blanket, the world still and untouched. He took a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill his lungs, grounding him in the present.
The sound of footsteps reached his ears, and he turned, his gaze catching a figure emerging from the shadows. It was Tilan. The boy who had always watched from a distance, never quite part of the crowd.
Tilan's expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes. A flicker of understanding, maybe? Or perhaps it was something more. Ehito wasn't sure. He had never been able to figure Tilan out completely, but there was always a sense of mystery surrounding him.
"You know, you could've given him a chance," Tilan said, his voice calm but full of unspoken meaning.
Ehito raised an eyebrow. "You're talking about Natsuo?"
Tilan nodded. "He wasn't trying to hurt you. He just wanted to understand. Maybe he was wrong, but he had his reasons."
Ehito stared at Tilan for a moment, his gaze sharp but not hostile. Tilan was one of the few people who seemed to get it, who could see past the surface and understand the complexities beneath. Ehito wasn't sure if that was a good thing, but it was certainly rare.
"I'm not here to give lessons," Ehito replied, his voice still flat, but with a hint of something deeper. "Everyone has their own battles. I choose not to waste time on them."
Tilan seemed to accept this response without pushing further. Instead, he simply nodded, as if he had expected that answer all along.
"But be careful, Ehito," Tilan said after a moment, his voice low, his gaze unwavering. "Not everyone around you is as strong as you."
Ehito's gaze softened slightly, but he didn't respond. He turned his back and walked slowly toward the end of the alley, his steps quiet and heavy.
Maybe Tilan was right. Maybe the weight of his choices would catch up to him eventually. But for now, Ehito wasn't ready to acknowledge that possibility. Not yet.
With a final glance over his shoulder, he disappeared into the shadows, his figure swallowed by the night.