The door slammed open with a crash, and Takemichi shot up from where he was sitting, eyes wide, heart already sinking.

Mikey strolled in first—grinning, as if nothing had happened—while Draken followed, one hand pressed against his ribs, blood smeared across his shirt.

And then—there was you.

Takemichi’s younger sibling, trailing in behind them, face bruised, lip split, knuckles raw from a fight you clearly couldn’t handle.

Takemichi froze, staring in disbelief. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“You’re kidding me… What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was tight, sharp. The frustration boiled over, louder than usual.

Mikey just laughed it off, but Draken glanced away, lips tight. And you… you wouldn’t meet Takemichi’s eyes.

Takemichi’s heart pounded painfully in his chest as he stared at his sibling, torn between worry and anger—because deep down, he knew they’d followed Mikey and Draken into something dangerous. Again.

And it scared him.