All or Nothing

Kairi didn't hesitate.

With blood still dripping from her eye, she reached down, fingers wrapping around a jagged wooden piece from the broken table.

Heavy. Solid. Perfect.

Kayd's grin twisted into something wicked as he gripped his katana tighter.

Kayd: "A stick? Really?" He spat out blood, shaking his head. "You're pathetic."

Kairi only smiled. A thin, razor-sharp grin.

Then—

She swung.

Fast. Brutal. Unrelenting.

The wooden club cracked against Kayd's forearm, forcing him to step back.

He cursed, blocking with his blade, but Kairi didn't give him time to breathe.

She hammered him with strike after strike— left, right, slamming the wood against his ribs, shoulders, legs.

Kayd hissed as one hit smashed into his wrist, knocking his grip loose.

Kairi: "What's wrong?" Her voice was low, mocking. Dripping with venom. "Can't handle a little wood?"

Kayd snarled, pushing through the pain. He lunged.

Kairi twisted, parrying with the wooden club, sending splinters flying.

CRACK.

The impact sent a shockwave through her arms, but she barely felt it.

She was running on fury.

On vengeance.

On the last reserves of adrenaline that kept her moving, breathing, fighting.

Kayd stepped forward, trying to slash low—

Kairi saw it. Countered.

She drove the wooden piece straight into his stomach.

Kayd choked, doubling over.

And Kairi…?

She lifted the club high, aiming to finish it.

This time, for good.

CRACK.

The jagged edge of the wooden club came down like a guillotine.

Kayd's screams tore through the air as both his hands separated from his wrists, flesh and bone splitting apart like severed rope.

Blood sprayed in thick arcs, staining the floor, the walls—Kairi's face.

He collapsed to his knees, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a dying fish.

For the first time… Kayd Arakawa looked small. Weak. Just another dying man begging for mercy.

But mercy never came.

As his body trembled, the pain dragging him to the edge of delirium, a flood of memories rushed in.

Years Ago—The Arakawa Estate

A younger Kayd stood before his father, hands behind his back, eyes lowered.

The man before him—Ryotaro Arakawa—stood tall, dressed in a pristine suit, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a cigarette in the other. Cold. Cruel. Unforgiving.

Ryotaro: "You're an embarrassment."

Kayd remained silent, fists clenched.

Ryotaro: "You were born into wealth, yet you act like a gutter rat. Do you think power comes from brute strength?" He scoffed, taking a slow drag. "Pathetic."

Kayd swallowed his pride.

Kayd: "I—"

SMACK.

The slap came so fast he barely registered it.

Ryotaro: "Shut up." His voice was like steel. Unshaken. "You are not my son. You are a tool. A weapon. If you cannot kill, then you are nothing."

Kayd's breath hitched, his cheeks burning from the slap, but he did not cry.

Because weakness meant death.

And death…

Was not an option.

Back in the present, Kayd coughed up blood, laughter bubbling through the agony.

His arms were gone. His life was slipping.

Yet…

He grinned.

Kayd: "You think… this ends with me?"

Kairi didn't respond.

She just watched him bleed.

Kayd: "More will come for you, Pacifist… Doesn't matter who. Someone you know. Someone you don't."

His voice turned hoarse, broken.

Kayd: "One day… you'll be the one crawling on the floor, drowning in your own blood."

His chest rose and fell in ragged gasps.

Kayd: "And when that day comes…"

He smiled through the pain.

Kayd: "I hope they make it slow."

Kairi said nothing.

She just stepped forward.

Then—

SPLAT.

She stomped on his throat.

Hard.

Cartilage crushed. Windpipe caved in.

Kayd's body convulsed, his eyes bulging, veins popping from his skin.

A desperate, gurgling sound escaped his lips.

Then—

CRACK.

His neck snapped under her boot.

The laughter died.

The air stilled.

Kayd Arakawa was no more.

Kairi stood over his corpse, breathing heavy, hands shaking.

The wooden club slipped from her grasp, hitting the bloodstained floor with a hollow thud.

She turned, eyeing the distant flames creeping along the walls, consuming the wreckage of their battle.

For the first time in years…

She smiled.

Not in joy.

Not in satisfaction.

But in something far darker.

Because this place was going to burn.

And whether she walked out alive or not…

She'd already been dead inside for a long, long time.