Hajime slowly opened his eyes, his vision still blurry.familiar,

  As his sight adjusted, he realized—

  He was at Ray's team base.

  "Where… am I?"

  But before he could move too much, Seline was already by his side.

  "Shh, it's okay, Hajime,""You're safe now."

  Hajime blinked a few times before reality came crashing down on him.

  The memories hit him like a truck.

  Sockoo was taken.

  He lost.

  He was too weak.

  His hands clenched into fists, shaking.

  And then—

  Tears fell.

  Hajime buried his face into his grandmother’s armsHis body trembled.

  "I was too weak… I couldn't win…"his voice breaking.

  "I couldn't save her!"

  Seline gently wrapped her arms around him, holding him close,

  letting him release the emotions he had bottled up for so long.

  She caressed his hair"You've grown so much, Hajime…

  "You used to be so emotionless, so distant… But now, you have people you love. People you want to protect."

  She pulled back slightly, wiping his tears with her fingers. "That is not weakness, my dear. That is strength."

  Hajime gritted his teeth,

  He never used to cry. He never used to care.

  But now?

  Now, he had something to fight for.

  Ray burst through the door

  "HAJIMEEE! YOU'RE ALIVE!"

  WHAM!

  Before Ray could even touch him, Hajime instinctively kicked him mid-airflying backward

  "OI, YOU IDIOT! I'M HAVING A MOMENT WITH GRANDMA!"

  Hajime yelled, his face still stained with tears

  Ray dramatically groaned in pain"Ow… you could've just said no!"

  Seline just chuckled softly"Some things never change."

  Hajime sighed"Dumbass."

  Ray sat up, still pouting, but then his expression softened.

  "For real though, Hajime…""We're here for you."

  Hajime looked away, trying to compose himself.

  But deep down, he appreciated it.

  Hajime finished explaining everything — Sockoo’s father StrikekaStreetkaobliterated

  Ray sat quietly for once, listening carefully. His expression shifted from his usual goofy self to a rare moment of seriousness.

  After a pause, Ray sighed and leaned back. "Yeah... I know that guy. Strikeka. Your dad — Baku — fought him back in his prime. He barely won."

  Hajime’s eyes widened slightly. "Wait, what? My dad fought him?"

  Ray nodded. "Yeah. It was one hell of a fight, apparently. But look, Hajime… if Sockoo’s part of that family, it’s probably best you stay out of their business. It’s a family matter now — it’s dangerous."

  Hajime’s fists clenched, his voice trembling. "You expect me to just stand by after they took her!?"

  Before Ray could respond, Seline spoke up, her voice gentle but teasing. "Ray, stop pouting."

  Ray blinked, confused. "Huh? I’m not pouting — I’m being real with him!"

  Seline chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You need to learn how to read the room."

  Ray stared at her for a second, processing, then looked at Hajime — still heartbroken and furious.

  His expression softened again. "...Alright, fine. We’ll figure something out. But don’t do anything reckless yet, got it? You’re no good to Sockoo if you’re dead."

  Hajime stared at his lap, his fists trembling as he spoke in a low, broken voice.

  "Even so… I have to. No matter what."

  Ray stared at him for a moment, then a familiar smirk spread across his face. "Then you have to get stronger."

  Hajime slowly lifted his head, eyes narrowing. "What…?"

  Ray leaned in, grinning wider. "We’re gonna train you."

  The room fell into an uncomfortable, heavy silence. Hajime stared at Ray, his expression shifting from confusion to horror as the realization set in.

  "Wait… no. No, no, no — you can’t be serious!"

  Ray laughed, his grin only growing. "Oh, I’m dead serious, Hajime."

  Hajime shot up from his seat, yelling, "NOOOO!!"

  He already knew what this meant — Ray’s “training” was less training and more survival from hell itself

  Seline giggled, covering her mouth. "Well, you did say 'no matter what'~."

  Ray patted Hajime on the back — a little too hard — making him nearly fall over. "Welcome to hell, Hajime. You’ll thank me later."

  Hajime groaned, dragging his hands down his face. "Rage on desu…"

  As Hajime followed Ray through the hallways toward the training grounds, his mind was still racing. He wasn’t ready for whatever nightmare Ray had planned — but he didn’t have a choice.

  They passed by the nurse’s office, and out of the corner of his eye, Hajime noticed something. He stopped abruptly, his heart skipping a beat.

  Inside, through the small window, he saw them — the Music Club

  — lying in hospital beds, wrapped in bandages and covered in bruises. Makoto, Yosuke, Emily, Angel, and the others… they were all there, unconscious.

  His throat tightened. His chest burned.

  Ray noticed Hajime wasn’t behind him and turned around. "Hajime? What’s up?"

  Hajime didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on the sight.

  Ray walked back, his usual carefree expression dimming. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, sighing. "Amy brought them here."

  Hajime snapped his head toward him. "Amy?"

  Ray nodded. "Yeah. She said she was hiding when everything went down. Smart move, honestly. When she saw you get blasted across the city, she waited until Strikeka, Streetka, and Sockoo left. Then she used her powers to track your energy and teleported everyone she could to safety."

  Hajime’s eyes widened. Amy… she saved them?

  Ray continued, his voice a little softer than usual. "They’re alive because of her. Barely, but alive. Doc said they’ll recover — eventually."

  Hajime looked back through the window. He clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms. His heart pounded harder than before.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  They were all hurt because he wasn’t strong enough. Sockoo was gone because he wasn’t strong enough.

  He swallowed the lump in his throat, his voice barely above a whisper. "Ray... let’s go. I’m ready."

  Ray raised an eyebrow. "You sure? Once we start, there’s no turning back."

  Hajime didn’t hesitate. His eyes burned with determination now. "Yeah. No matter what. Let’s rage on."

  Ray grinned. "That's more like it."

  Ray clapped his hands together with a mischievous grin.

  "Alright, Hajime! First training: soccer."

  Hajime blinked, confused. "Soccer? That’s it? Seriously?"

  Ray nodded, looking completely serious for once. "Yeah. Your fighting style is all about speed and powerful kicks — so we’re gonna sharpen that. Gondo and Hanamoto are gonna be your twin goalkeepers."

  Hajime glanced at Gondo, who was grinning cheerfully like this was a fun game, and Hanamoto, who looked like he was already bored and unimpressed.

  Hajime smirked. "Pfft, easy. I just gotta score past these two, right? That’s not even training, that’s a warm-up."

  Ray’s grin widened. "Oh no, no, no, Hajime. You didn’t let me finish."

  Hajime tilted his head. "Finish what—?"

  Ray slammed a massive pile of weights on the ground, dust flying everywhere. The weights clattered loud enough to make Hajime flinch.

  "You’ll be doing it with 10,000 pounds strapped to you."

  Hajime froze, his face turning pale. "H-Huh?!"

  Ray leaned in smugly. "Yep. You heard me. Ten thousand. And you have to score a thousand goals."

  Hajime started sweating, his voice shaky. "I... I’ll die. No way. I’m gonna die."

  Ray laughed, slapping him on the back hard enough to nearly knock him over. "Don’t worry, buddy! If you die, we’ll just revive you or something. You got this!"

  Hajime stared at him, slack-jawed.

  Gondo chuckled, cracking his knuckles. "Oh, this’ll be fun! Don’t hold back, Hajime — if you score even once, I’ll buy you dinner!"

  Hanamoto scoffed. "He’s not scoring. Kid can’t even lift his leg with that weight."

  Hajime’s eye twitched, and a vein popped on his forehead. "Oho... now you’re asking for it, old man."

  Ray grinned even wider. "Alright, Hajime. Let the first training... BEGIN!"

  The weights slammed onto Hajime’s arms, legs, and back all at once, nearly flattening him into the dirt. He let out a wheezy grunt, his legs trembling.

  "...Rage on desu..."

  Ray gave him a thumbs up. "Atta boy."

  Hajime stood there, his body trembling under the insane weight. His knees buckled as he tried to move, sweat already dripping down his face.

  "Ghh... c-come on... move...!"

  Ray watched with his arms crossed, still wearing that smug grin. "Come on, Hajime. You gotta move faster than that if you wanna save Sockoo."

  Hajime growled, his frustration boiling over. He forced his foot forward — only to barely tap the ball. It rolled about an inch before stopping.

  Gondo laughed from the goalpost. "At this rate, we’ll be here all week!"

  Hanamoto yawned. "He’s pathetic."

  Hajime’s head snapped up, rage flickering in his eyes. His fists clenched tight enough that his knuckles turned white.

  "Shut up!"

  Ray raised an eyebrow. "Is that all you got, Hajime? This is only day one. If you give up now, you’ll never touch Strikeka."

  Hajime’s breath hitched. Strikeka. Sockoo. His friends, broken and bleeding. The Music Club in the infirmary. Yu, gone.

  His mind flashed to Sockoo’s hollow, empty expression as she said goodbye.

  His teeth clenched so hard they hurt.

  "I’m not done yet!"

  But this time, he managed to swing. The ball barely lifted off the ground, rolling slowly toward the goal.

  Gondo, still smiling, waited until the last second, then flicked the ball aside with his foot like it was nothing.

  "Ooh, so close! Maybe next time, kid!"

  Hajime collapsed onto his knees, panting hard. His vision blurred from the strain. His body felt like it was on fire.

  Ray squatted down next to him, smirking. "Nine hundred ninety-nine more to go. You still think you’re dying?"

  Hajime let out a shaky breath, his voice weak but determined.

  "...Bring it on."

  Gondo looked over at Ray, his grin dropping into an annoyed glare.

  "Oi, Ray! That wasn’t a goal, you moron!""The ball didn’t even make it into the net — it barely rolled past my foot! You can’t count that!"

  Ray tilted his head, still smirking. "Yeah? Well, he moved the ball, didn’t he? I call that progress."

  Gondo groaned, rubbing his forehead. "You’re hopeless."

  Hanamoto snorted from the other goal. "He’ll need more than 'progress' to beat Strikeka. Let the brat suffer through it the right way."

  Hajime, still kneeling on the ground, let out a dry, breathless laugh. "So... I gotta do it right... or it doesn’t count, huh...?"

  Ray leaned in close, ruffling Hajime’s sweat-soaked hair. "That’s right, buddy. Get up. We’re not leaving until you score a real goal."

  Hajime groaned, shaking from exhaustion, but forced himself back onto his feet, his legs wobbling under the insane weight. His breathing was ragged, but his eyes burned with determination.

  "Fine...""I’ll score one... even if it kills me."

  Gondo crossed his arms, giving a toothy grin. "Now that’s more like it."

  Hajime stared at the ball, his legs shaking under the weight. His breath was heavy, but his mind was racing.

  He gritted his teeth. His body screamed for him to stop — but his heart wouldn’t let him. He wasn’t going to lose Sockoo. Not again.

  He started thinking back to his past battles.

  First, he remembered the Boss"I didn't overpower him... I outsmarted him."

  Then Bondo"I wasn’t stronger... I was faster."

  Ichika and Izaya"I wasn’t faster or stronger... I was unpredictable."

  And finally, Streetkastopped thinking altogether

  and trusted his instincts.

  Hajime’s eyes widened.

  His eyes flicked to Gondo and Hanamoto, standing ready as goalkeepers. A grin formed on his face.

  Hajime slowly adjusted his stance, focusing on balance instead of power. He took a deep breath. "Let’s try this again."

  Gondo and Hanamoto stood firm in front of the goal, watching him closely.

  Hajime staggered toward the ball — his kick looked pathetic, barely tapping it to the side. Gondo snorted.

  "Was that supposed to be a shot, kid?"

  But Hajime wasn’t done.

  The moment his foot connected with the ball, he slammed his feet downlaunched himself sideways

  "Rage on—!!"

  In one fluid motion, his body twisted midair — his core tightened, his legs swung overhead, and he executed a blazing fast mid-turn bicycle kick

  The weight on his body felt like it was ripping him apart, but his instincts screamed louder. His foot connected with the ball perfectly, sending it rocketing toward the goal with explosive force.

  The ground beneath him cracked from the pressure of his kick.

  Gondo’s eyes widened. "What the—?!"

  Hanamoto barely had time to react. He lunged to block, but the ball blasted past both of them, tearing through the net

  Dust and debris fell from the ceiling. There was a long, stunned silence.

  Hajime crashed to the ground, coughing and groaning in pain. He gave a weak, smug grin.

  "Goal."

  Ray burst out laughing, clapping his hands. "Now that’s more like it!"

  Gondo blinked, his mouth hanging open. "...That wasn’t a goal, you moron."

  Hanamoto smirked, crossing his arms. "Yeah, but it sure as hell wasn’t a miss, either."

  Hajime lay on the ground, panting hard but laughing between breaths. "Rage on desu..."

  Hajime pushed himself up from the ground, his legs trembling like they were about to give out. His breathing was rough, but he forced a grin through the pain.

  "Again."

  Ray whistled. "You sure, man? You look like you're about to fall apart."

  Hajime didn’t even look at him. His eyes were locked on the goal.

  "I said... again."

  Ray’s grin widened. "Alright then — Gondo! Hanamoto! Get ready!"

  Hajime staggered to the ball, each step sending a sharp, burning pain through his legs. His muscles felt like they were ripping apart, but he didn’t stop.

  He kicked the ball again — not powerful, but calculated. He used the rebound to launch himself, twisting midair, another bicycle kick

  roaring through.

  The ball shot like a cannonball, and this time, Gondo barely managed to swat it aside.

  Hajime crashed into the dirt, coughing and groaning. His vision blurred.

  "Damn it..."

  He pushed himself up again. His legs shook violently. He could feel his bones screaming under the pressure, like they were about to snap.

  But his mind wasn’t thinking about the painHajime lay on the ground, his body refusing to move. His legs felt like they weren’t even part of him anymore — just dead weight. His chest heaved, sweat dripping down his face, mixing with the dirt beneath him.

  Ray walked up, hands in his pockets, staring down at him.

  "One more goal, Hajime. C’mon."

  Hajime barely lifted his head, his voice weak. "I… can’t move."

  Gondo chuckled from the goalpost. "Guess that’s it, huh? Not bad, kid. You got pretty far."

  Hanamoto scoffed. "Pretty far? He still lost. One goal short."

  Hajime’s fingers dug into the dirt. His mind screamed at his body to move, but nothing happened.

  "I… can’t…"

  Images of Sockoo flashed in his head — her smile, her laugh, the way she looked back at him before disappearing through that portal.

  Her last words echoed in his mind.

  His breathing hitched. His fists clenched tighter, nails digging into his palms. He felt his heart pounding so hard it hurt.

  "No…"

  Ray knelt beside him, speaking softly, but with a sharp edge. "You done, Hajime? You giving up? You gonna let Sockoo stay with those bastards? You okay with losing her like this?"

  Hajime’s eyes widened, his pupils trembling.

  "Shut up…"

  Ray leaned closer, voice low and taunting. "You’re too weak to save her. You’re too weak to do anything. You’ll just keep watching everyone you love disappear."

  Something snapped.

  A rush of burning heat shot through Hajime’s body. His muscles screamed — but this time, they weren’t telling him to stop. His head shot up, eyes burning with fury.

  "SHUT UP!"

  With a roar, Hajime planted his hands into the ground and forced himself up. His legs felt like shattered glass, but he didn’t care. His body moved on sheer willpower. His breath was ragged, teeth gritted so hard they might crack.

  Ray grinned. "There it is."

  Hajime stumbled forward, dragging his legs. His vision blurred from the pain, but he didn’t stop. He reached the ball, barely standing.

  Gondo and Hanamoto tensed up. This time, they weren’t going easy.

  Hajime stared at the goal, his voice low but steady.

  "One more… that’s all I need."

  He took a shaky step, then another. His body screamed with every movement. He clenched his teeth so hard he tasted blood.

  He reeled his leg back, ignoring the pain, ignoring everything — and kicked.

  The ball shot forward, but it wasn’t like before. This wasn’t strength. This wasn’t skill. This was desperation and raw instinct.

  The ball swerved mid-air, a wild, unpredictable curve. Gondo lunged to block it — but it twisted at the last second, slipping past his fingertips.

  BAM!

  The ball slammed into the net, shaking the goalpost.

  Silence.

  Gondo blinked in shock. "Hah… what the hell was that shot?!"

  Hanamoto crossed his arms, sighing with a smirk. "Tch. Lucky shot."

  Hajime fell to his knees, his entire body shaking uncontrollably. He could barely keep his eyes open, his vision swimming.

  Ray walked up to him, grinning ear to ear. "You did it."

  Hajime let out a weak, shaky laugh, his voice barely above a whisper.

  "Rage on… desu…"

  Then, he collapsed face-first into the dirt, completely unconscious