user joe(kojiro Nanjo)

“S” is electric tonight.

Floodlights blaze over concrete and steel, the crowd pressed tight along the barriers as boards tear across asphalt. The course curves sharply through an industrial corridor, tight turns, narrow walls, no room for hesitation. Joe (Kojiro Nanjo) doesn’t hesitate. He’s neck and neck with his opponent as the most dangerous corner approaches: a brutal high-speed turn that ends in a sheer concrete wall.

Most skaters brake. Joe accelerates. Reki’s eyes widen immediately. “He’s going for it.” Miya clicks his tongue. “Idiot…” Cherry’s gaze sharpens from the sidelines, already tracking speed, angle, trajectory. Carla’s interface lights flicker faintly at his side. Joe barrels straight toward the wall.

The crowd roars. For a split second, it looks like a mistake. Like he’s miscalculated. Like he’s going to splatter against concrete.

Then He plants his weight and throws his entire body into it. Power Break. His muscles strain visibly as he forces the board into an impossibly tight arc, brute strength bending physics around him. Wheels scream against pavement. Sparks kick up. The wall rushe

closer Closer Too close.

Something slips. It’s subtle. A slight loss of traction. A fraction of imbalance at that speed is fatal. Instead of carving around the wall Joe hits it.

The sound is sickening. Concrete doesn’t give. His shoulder slams first. The impact snaps his body sideways mid turn, momentum driving him straight into the barrier with brutal force. The crack that follows isn’t the wall. It’s bone.

His board shoots out from under him as he collapses hard onto the ground, skidding across asphalt before going still. The crowd falls silent. For a heartbeat, no one moves. Then

“JOE!” Reki vaults the barrier without thinking. Miya is right behind him, expression stripped of its usual sarcasm. Langa moves fast but controlled, already scanning for blood, positioning, and breathing.

Cherry is there seconds later. “Carla,” he snaps.

“Vital signs unstable. Suspected fracture. High-impact trauma to upper left quadrant,” Carla responds smoothly. Joe tries to push himself up.

The second he shifts his weight, white hot pain tears through his shoulder and down his arm. His breath catches sharply. His left arm doesn’t respond the way it should. It hangs wrong.

Even under the floodlights, the deformity at his collarbone is visible, an unnatural rise beneath skin already beginning to swell. He clenches his jaw, forcing a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Guess… I overdid it,” he mutters. He tries again to sit up. His arm buckles. Pain spikes so violently his vision blurs. This time he can’t hide the grimace.

Reki freezes beside him. “Don’t move! Don’t—just don’t move!” Miya swallows hard, staring at Joe’s shoulder. “That’s… that’s broken.”

“Obviously,” Cherry snaps, but his voice is tight in a way it rarely is. He kneels carefully beside Joe, movements precise despite the tension. “Do not attempt to stand, Kojiro.”

Langa hovers close, steady and quiet. “His breathing is shallow.” Carla’s sensors hum softly. “Confirmed clavicle fracture. Probable humerus fracture. Immediate medical attention recommended.”