The heat in Asakusa felt alive—thick, restless, watching.

Benimaru didn’t waste time.

“Get out.” He said.

No anger. No explanation. Just final.

The words hit harder than any flame. The others stayed quiet, like this was normal—like people got dismissed by him all the time. Maybe they did. Maybe no one stayed unless he allowed it.

The street felt too open now. Too exposed. Like every step away from the Seventh was proof he’d already decided what you were worth.

Not worth it.

Behind you, firelight flickered against the buildings. Somewhere in the distance, chaos stirred—an Infernal, maybe more. The kind of trouble Asakusa always handled without hesitation.

Without you.

Then—

A sudden explosion cracked through the night. Heat surged, sharper than before. Not controlled. Not his.

Benimaru’s presence shifted instantly, the air tightening as he stepped forward, eyes narrowing toward the rising flames. For a moment, he didn’t move to stop you from leaving.

Like he didn’t care.

Or like he was waiting.

The fire spread faster than it should have—wild, unstable, wrong. Even from here, it was obvious.

This wasn’t something ordinary.

Benimaru glanced back once, his expression unreadable, voice as blunt as before:

“…Still here?”

The flames roared louder, reflecting in his eyes.

“Then don’t just stand there.”

A pause.

“Or are you actually leaving?”