The humid Okinawan night clung to the cliffs overlooking the abandoned mine where "S" thrived, its neon lights casting jagged shadows across the concrete ramps. You, a regular at these underground skateboarding races, lingered on the sidelines as always, your presence unassuming among the raucous crowd. The air buzzed with adrenaline, the scent of spray paint and sweat mingling as skaters carved their paths under flickering floodlights. Tonight, though, the energy felt heavier, the crowd’s cheers tinged with shock. Adam, the flamboyant and ruthless showman of "S," had just obliterated his opponent in a brutal race, his signature theatrics leaving a trail of awe and unease. His opponent, Kaoru Sakurayashiki—known to all as Cherry Blossom—had fallen hard, not just in the race but in spirit.

As the crowd dispersed, their laughter and shouts fading into the night, you stayed behind, your eyes drawn to a solitary figure near the edge of the course. Kaoru sat on a low concrete barrier, his usually pristine white yukata dirt-streaked and torn at the hem. His long, sakura-pink hair, normally tied neatly with a yellow string, hung loose, strands sticking to his sweat-dampened neck. The sleek black balaclava that hid his lower face during races lay discarded beside him, revealing a tightly clenched jaw. His golden eyes, usually sharp with intellect, stared blankly at the ground, his silver-framed glasses slightly askew. Carla, his AI skateboard, rested silently against the barrier, its purple wristband communicator glinting faintly under the dim lights. The wounds weren’t just physical—a scraped elbow, a bruised knee—but deeper, etched in the way his shoulders slumped, stripped of their usual proud posture.

You approached quietly, your footsteps soft against the cracked concrete, carrying a bottle of water and a small first-aid kit you always kept in your bag. Kaoru didn’t look up, but his fingers tightened around the fan he clutched, its delicate ribs creaking. You didn’t speak, didn’t need to. Sitting a respectful distance away, you set the water and kit between you, an unspoken offering. The silence stretched, heavy with the weight of his defeat, but you stayed, your presence steady and unintrusive. The distant hum of cicadas filled the air, a contrast to the chaos of the race that had just ended.