Masato Oono lay in a hospital bed, his body bruised, his pride shattered.
The official story? An accident.
The truth? A humiliating defeat at the hands of Blake Silva.
His so-called friends, too terrified of retaliation, refused to tell anyone what had really happened. They only whispered behind closed doors, spreading rumors that fed Masato's growing rage.
Meanwhile, life moved on.
Blake spent his days in quiet routine—training in the mornings, helping Marina with her studies in the afternoons, and losing himself in Airi's warm embrace in the evenings.
But time had a way of stirring restless hearts.
And Masato Oono's heart was drowning in madness.
The school bell rang, marking the end of another day.
Blake leaned back in his chair, stretching slightly before standing up.
Another day had passed.
Another evening with Airi awaited.
But before he could leave, Marina checked her phone, her expression shifting.
"Silva san, I've got something to take care of. I'll head out first."
She offered him an apologetic smile before hurrying out of the classroom.
There was something off about the way she moved—hurried, anxious.
After a brief pause, he slipped his phone from his pocket and sent a message to Airi.
Then, without a word, he followed.
In a secluded alley behind the school, a figure stood waiting.
His once-proud posture was gone, replaced by a sickly, frail frame. His skin was pale, his eyes sunken. But the fire inside him burned hotter than ever.
His fingers trembled slightly as he shut his phone.
A chilling grin spread across his lips.
"She finally showed up."
Moments later, Marina hesitantly stepped into the alley.
The second she saw him, she froze.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Masato took an unsteady step forward, his face contorting into something ugly.
"You took care of Silva while I was gone, huh? Bet that felt pretty damn good."
His tone was mocking, but there was something else beneath it—something broken.
Marina instinctively stepped back.
"You're mistaken," she said carefully. "Silva-san and I are just friends."
Masato's expression twisted further.
"Just friends?" His voice rose, sharp with bitterness. "Then why are you always with him? Why spend every damn break by his side? You wouldn't even let me touch you, but him—"
His breath hitched, his fists clenching.
"I was lying in a hospital bed, and you were running around with that pretty boy. Do you think I'm blind? Do you think I don't see it?"
Marina swallowed, her heart pounding.
"It's not what you think," she tried again. "He's been helping me study for the college entrance exams."
Masato let out a sharp, humorless laugh.
"Don't make me laugh."
Something shifted in his stance.
"You think I don't know what's really going on? You've been lying to me this whole time."
His hand slid into his pocket.
Marina's breath caught in her throat.
"What... what are you doing?"
Masato took another step forward, backing her against the cold brick wall.
His smile widened, his grip tightening on the knife.
"I'll give you three seconds. Take off your clothes... or I'll start carving you up."
The world seemed to slow.
Marina's pulse pounded in her ears.
The alley was empty. There was nowhere to run. No one to call for help.
He took another step forward, savoring her fear.
"You never learn, do you?"
A calm voice shattered the moment.
Masato's body stiffened.
Marina's wide eyes darted to the source.
Blake Silva stood at the alley's entrance, his silver hair catching the fading light, his sharp blue eyes colder than ice.
Masato turned his head stiffly, his expression contorting.
It was the same look a predator gave when it suddenly realized it was not the apex hunter.
"D-Don't come any closer!" Masato's voice cracked, his grip on the knife tightening. "I swear, if you do, I'll kill her!"
Blake didn't stop walking.
Each step echoed against the pavement, steady and controlled.
Masato swallowed hard.
The last time he faced this man, he had barely been able to breathe through the pain.
He was still trying to fight.
Still clinging to the last scraps of his pride.
Masato forced himself to smirk, his fingers pressing against Marina's shoulder, keeping her in place.
"She matters to you, doesn't she?" His voice wavered, but the arrogance remained. "Her life is in my hands. What are you gonna do, Silva? Beg? Get on your knees and plead? Maybe if you do, I'll let her go."
Blake finally stopped walking.
For a moment, there was silence.
"You think I'm afraid of you?"
"I'm not afraid. I'm angry."
Blake's gaze dropped to the knife in Masato's shaking hand.
"A man who resorts to threatening a woman—" His tone was laced with ice. "Let alone one who was supposed to be his girlfriend..."
His fingers twitched at his side.
"...isn't even worth my time."
Masato opened his mouth, but before he could react—
Pain exploded in his wrist as Blake moved like a shadow, twisting his arm and ripping the knife away.
A split second later—
Blake's grip shifted, and with one powerful motion, he hurled him over his shoulder.
Masato hit the pavement hard.
A ragged scream tore from his throat as agony lanced through his body—his wrist, his ribs, his already-injured spine.
For a moment, he lay there, gasping.
Just a broken boy, curled on the ground, too weak to move.