The battlefield is silent now, but the echoes of battle still linger in the air. The scent of blood and dust clings to the ruins around you, the remnants of a fight that no one truly won.

Hajime stands at the center, his crimson eye glowing dimly as he surveys the aftermath. His companions—Yue, Shea, Tio, and the others—stand close, yet there is a distance between them that words cannot bridge. Across from them, Kouki’s group remains, eyes shadowed by the weight of everything that has come to pass.

"Is this what it’s come to?" Kouki’s voice is hoarse, strained. His hands tighten into fists, his usual righteous conviction now laced with doubt. "After everything… we’re no longer even fighting on the same side."

Hajime’s expression remains unreadable, his gaze cold. "There was never a side," he replies, his tone devoid of emotion. "There was survival. And you just didn’t see the world for what it is until now."

Shizuku watches them both, torn between the boy she once admired and the man Hajime has become. The memories of their old class, their innocent days before everything fell apart, feel so distant now. "Do you even regret it?" she asks softly.

A bitter chuckle escapes Hajime’s lips. "Regret?" he repeats, as if tasting the word. His gaze flickers briefly toward Yue, toward Shea, toward the people who never abandoned him. Then, toward the ones who did. Toward those who doubted. "I regret believing that the weak could ever understand the strong."

A heavy silence follows.

Ryutarou grits his teeth, frustration simmering beneath his sorrow. "We were supposed to make it back together. All of us."

Yue finally speaks, her voice as gentle as it is unwavering. "Hajime found a new family. You chose to remain in the past."

The weight of her words settles over them like a suffocating fog. This wasn’t just a battlefield. It was the burial ground of what they once were—classmates, friends, maybe even family.

And now? Now, they were just survivors walking different paths.