• NIGHT.FIGHT
"You boys picked the wrong neighborhood to wander into," one of the gangsters snarled, his grip tightening around a metal rod that glinted ominously under the weak light. His companions chuckled darkly, their eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Hikaru stepped forward, his body taut like a coiled spring. "We're not looking for trouble," he said evenly, though his voice carried a steely edge. "But if it's a fight you want, I'll gladly give it to you."
The gang leader smirked, amused. "Tough words for someone outnumbered five to two. Let's see if you can back them up."
Without warning, one of the thugs lunged at Hikaru, his fist aimed at his face. Hikaru sidestepped with fluid precision, delivering a sharp punch to the man's gut. The thug doubled over, gasping for air, and stumbled backward. Another attacker rushed in, swinging wildly. Hikaru ducked low, his movements smooth and calculated, before countering with a powerful kick that sent the man crashing into a pile of crates, scattering debris across the alley.
Yamino stood frozen, his breath caught in his throat as he watched Hikaru fight. His cousin moved with an almost effortless grace, each strike precise and deliberate. But Yamino's admiration turned to horror when he saw one of the gangsters creeping up behind Hikaru, raising a metal rod high above his head.
"Hikaru!" Yamino shouted, but his warning came too late. The sickening sound of metal meeting flesh echoed through the alley. Hikaru staggered forward, clutching his head as blood began to seep through his fingers. He collapsed to the ground, groaning in pain.
The gang leader laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that sent chills down Yamino's spine. Twirling the rod in his hand, he sneered, "Looks like your hero's down. What're you gonna do now, kid?"
Yamino's heart raced, his mind a whirlwind of fear and anger. Panic clawed at the edges of his consciousness, but a surge of determination surged through him, pushing the fear aside. Memories of Hikaru's unwavering support flashed through his mind. He couldn't let this end here.
He stepped forward, his fists clenched. "You've made a big mistake," he said, his voice trembling but resolute. His eyes locked onto the gang leader's, filled with a fire that surprised even himself.
The gang leader raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Oh? And what're you gonna do about it?"
Yamino didn't respond with words. Instead, he grabbed a broken piece of wood from the ground, holding it like a makeshift weapon. The gangsters chuckled, their laughter dripping with disdain, but Yamino's grip tightened. He wasn't backing down.
The first thug advanced, swinging a chain at Yamino. He dodged to the side, the chain whistling past his ear, and retaliated with a swift swing of the wooden plank. The blow struck the thug's arm, forcing him to drop the chain with a pained cry. Emboldened, Yamino sidestepped another attacker and delivered a clumsy but effective shove, sending the man stumbling into a wall.
Meanwhile, Hikaru began to stir. Though dazed and bleeding, he pushed himself up on shaky legs, his gaze fixing on Yamino. Seeing his cousin fighting ignited a spark of determination in him. Gritting his teeth, he straightened up and clenched his fists.
"Yamino," he called, his voice hoarse but steady, "I've got your back."
The two cousins stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the gang. Hikaru, despite his injury, delivered a well-placed punch to one thug's jaw, sending him reeling. Yamino swung his plank with renewed vigor, landing a glancing blow on another attacker's shoulder. Their movements, though unrefined, carried a raw energy that caught the gang off guard.
As the fight dragged on, the gangsters began to falter. The leader, realizing they were losing their advantage, spat on the ground in frustration. "This isn't over!" he snarled before retreating into the shadows with his crew.
The alley fell silent save for the cousins' ragged breathing. Yamino dropped the plank, his hands trembling as the adrenaline ebbed away. He turned to Hikaru, worry etched on his face. "Are you okay?"
Hikaru managed a weak smile, wiping blood from his temple. "I've had worse," he said, though his voice was strained. He clapped a hand on Yamino's shoulder. "But you... you were amazing out there. Didn't know you had it in you."
Yamino chuckled nervously, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Neither did I."
Despite their injuries, a sense of triumph lingered between them. They had faced overwhelming odds and come out stronger, their bond tested and proven in the heat of battle. But as they leaned against the alley wall, catching their breath, they both knew this was just the beginning. The night had more in store for them, and the challenges ahead would demand even greater courage and resolve.
The sharp sting of light against his closed eyelids roused Hikaru from his unconscious state. His mind was heavy, clouded by a fog that made it hard to focus. For a few moments, he was disoriented, unsure of where he was or what had happened. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths as he slowly pushed himself up from the bench, his body aching from the battle they had fought.
A surge of panic gripped him. His heart raced as memories—faint, fractured, yet unmistakable—began to slip back into place. No, this isn't right, he thought, his breath hitching. He had seen this moment before. The war, dimensions, Yamino's frightened face… everything had happened already. But that wasn't possible, was it?
His hands trembled as he pushed the covers aside, his gaze frantically searching the place, the panic building inside him like a storm. He needed to see someone. There was only one person who could make sense of this.
He turned his head, eyes scanning the alleyway.
There, standing by the road, was Yamino. The boy was staring out, lost in thought, as if the chaos of the night before hadn't occurred at all. Hikaru's chest tightened with a mixture of relief and dread. Yamino was still here, still alive. He hadn't failed him.
No... Hikaru's breath caught, his mind fully returning. This can't be real.
"Yamino," Hikaru rasped, his voice hoarse from the aftermath of the fight, "Yamino!"
The younger man turned at the sound of his name, his eyes locking onto Hikaru's with an expression that conveyed both concern and confusion. But there was something more there, something unspoken—a recognition that was deeper than anything they had shared before.
Hikaru felt the weight of it all, his hand pressing against his forehead as a headache began to pulse behind his eyes. His memories were clear now—too clear. He had died before, over and over, always failing to protect the people he loved, always coming back in time to change things, to try again.
He was a regressor.
It was a curse, one that tied him to a timeline he couldn't escape, forced to relive the same moments, to correct his past mistakes, to find a way to make everything right. But nothing ever worked. The cycle had always brought him back to this point, to the same critical choice that had led to failure. Yamino. His cousin brother sacrificed himself to save him. But this time will be different. He couldn't lose him again. No. He won't let him die this time.
"Yamino…" Hikaru whispered.
Hikaru's gaze sharpened as a new, unyielding determination surged within him. This time, he would find a way to break the cycle. He couldn't afford to let Yamino fall into danger again. He couldn't afford to fail.
This was their future, their lives—and it was time to take control of it.