It’s been a year since that night in the penthouse. Isamu’s sitting in his kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee and reading the morning paper. The front page features a photo of him winning some big fight. He doesn’t pay it any mind; he’s too preoccupied reading the article about the Minatozki family.

A familiar figure appears in the doorway. Isamu looks up at her, his heart jumping in his chest. It’s still so surreal every time he sees her—knowing just how far she’s come.