The sun cast long shadows across the school grounds, dipping below the horizon in hues of deep red and orange. Takanashi moved with quiet, steady steps, his gaze fixed ahead with a reluctant sigh as he led a group of students, both seniors and younger years, toward the sports hall. After the brutal Cuju game, exhaustion clung to him like a second skin, and yet his expression remained unreadable, with hand in his pockets, head down.

The younger students crowded together as they walked, shoulders bumping and feet shuffling as they cast uneasy glances at Takanashi. One first-year tugged nervously at his friend's sleeve collar, whispering to his friend, “Did you see him out there, Daiki? The way he…” His words trailed off as Takanashi’s gaze flicked their way, and he quickly shut his mouth, eyes wide.

Daiki gave a slow, solemn nod. “He’s everything our parents warned us about, Kenzo.”

Nearby, a senior reached out and gave one of the younger boys a hard shove, sending him stumbling forward. “What’s the matter, can’t keep up?” the senior sneered, grabbing the boy by the shoulder to steady him, only to give him another rough push.

“Leave off, would you?” Daiki muttered, trying to wriggle free, his voice barely above a whisper. But the senior only laughed, wrapping an arm around the boy’s neck and giving him a noogie.

Takanashi continued walking, eyes straight ahead, seeming not to notice the younger boy’s silent plea. The whispers from the back grew louder, nervous, until another senior barked, “Hey, keep it down! Show some respect.” Another called out, “Come on, keep up!”

The younger students fell quiet, their heads downcast as they tried to stay out of the seniors’ reach, occasionally glancing at Takanashi’s back, His silence seemed to cast a heavy shadow over the group.

As the group reached the sports hall, Takanashi’s pace slowed, his gaze sweeping over the building. The once-ordinary sports hall had now been claimed, its walls marked with the rough spray-painted ‘Ridden’ tag, as Kazuto faith flash before him, his friend and leader of the there gang.

They entered through the main doors, which stood propped open, a battered gym bench wedged against them as a makeshift barricade. Inside, the hall was dimly lit by the last of the evening light filtering through broken windows high above. Members of Ridden were sprawled across the bleachers and scattered gym mats, talking quietly among themselves. A few glanced up as Takanashi entered, their murmurs falling silent as they looked at him.

Piles of hastily gathered supplies—bottles of water, canned food, and scattered bits of equipment lined one corner, as an empty metal trash had been converted into a makeshift fire pit, and a faint, acrid smell of smoke lingered in the air.

One of the seniors, lounging on a mat near the back, rose to his feet, nodding to Takanashi. “Boss. We’ve been keeping an eye out since you left. No sign of the Principle around here.”

Takanashi gave a curt nod, “Thank Sato, it looks like Kazuto was his only target” then he turned to the students behind him, scanning the younger faces. “Find a place to sit and stay quiet,” he ordered. The younger students quickly obeyed, settling into uneasy groups along the walls, casting wary glances at the gang members who now controlled the hall.

Kenzo couldn’t help but whisper to Daiki, his voice barely audible. “This place feels… wrong.”

Daiki nudged him, his gaze darting to Takanashi. “These guys are delinquents,” he whispered back. “Just don’t draw attention.”

Takanashi’s eyes moved to a roughly drawn school map taped against one of the walls, covered with marked positions and hastily scribbled notes. He stepped over to it, running his fingers along the lines someone had once drawn, splitting the Sport Hall . Kazuto’s rule had been ruthless, his family was bailing us out of trouble time and again, but since his death, Takanashi had barely filled the power void, others feared his bigger size but Sato was his only true friend within the gang.

Near the back of the hall, a few of the new seniors exchanged sharp looks with each other before stepping forward. One of them, a tall, broad-shouldered senior with a scar running down his cheek, nudged his friend and motioned toward Sato. He smirked, his voice loud enough to carry. “These guys think they run the place, huh?”

Takanashi turned slowly, his gaze settling on the group. He held a steely calm as he took a few measured steps forward, stopping directly in front of the upstart. “You got something to say?” His voice was low, steady, and ice-cold.

The senior straightened up, meeting Takanashi’s gaze with a sneer as his lips curled, squaring his shoulders. “Yeah, I’ve got something to say.” He glanced over his shoulder at his friends, their nods giving him just enough courage to push forward. “You’re just a bunch of delinquents.” emboldened by a few nods from his friends, he jabbed a finger into Takanashi’s chest. “You’re not the only big guy around here, Takanashi. And we’re not letting a gang of losers….”

Without a word, Takanashi swung. His fist connected with the senior’s jaw in a single, sharp strike, the force sending him staggering to the floor. A ripple of shock went through the room as Takanashi seized the senior by the collar, pinning him to the floor.

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“Kazuto’s gone, and this aint the streets anymore” Takanashi growled, his voice low, “and I’m in charge now. If you don’t like it, I can end it now.”

The senior spat blood onto the floor, his sneer unwavering even as Takanashi loomed over him. “You think I’m scared of you? You’re just some thug playing king because that other loser, Kazuto’s not here.”

He shoved at Takanashi’s chest, forcing him back just enough to scramble to his feet. “You think you can be a hero? You’re nothing but a big, dumb”

Takanashi didn’t let him finish. He lunged forward, driving a fist into the senior’s gut with enough force to double him over. The room erupted into chaos as the other seniors stepped back, unsure whether to intervene. The Ridden members exchanged quick, uncertain glances but stayed rooted in place, waiting to see how their leader would handle the challenge.

The senior gasped for air, his face contorted in pain, but he didn’t back down. Instead, he swung wildly, catching Takanashi on the cheek with enough force to snap his head to the side. Takanashi paused, touching his face where the blow had landed. His expression remained cold, unreadable, as he turned back to face his opponent.

“That's the best you’ve got?” Takanashi said, his voice quiet, almost mocking.

With a roar, the senior charged, throwing punch after punch. Takanashi dodged most of them, his movements precise, but a few landed, each hit only fueling the fire in his eyes. He waited for the senior to tire, then stepped in, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against the wall with a bone-shaking thud.

The senior clawed at Takanashi’s hand, his face turning red as he struggled to breathe.

The room fell silent. Only a quick shallow gasps from the seniors' struggles. “This isn’t the streets, and it sure as hell isn’t a game,” Takanashi growled, his grip tightening. His voice carried through the hall. “Kazuto was only the leader because his money bailed us out of trouble. I've taken charge because we all know I’d do whatever it takes to keep us alive. You? You’re just another idiot who thinks he knows me, fact is, you don't!.”

The senior’s legs kicked weakly, his eyes wide with panic as Takanashi pressed harder. His friends took a step forward, but one look from Sato stopped them in their tracks. The Ridden members stood by, their silence an unspoken endorsement of their leader’s actions.

With a final, savage twist, Takanashi threw the senior to the floor. The thud echoed in the hall, and the senior lay still, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. Takanashi loomed over him, his foot pressing down on the senior’s chest.

“Last chance,” Takanashi said, his voice calm but deadly. “You walk out of here now, or you don’t walk out at all.”

The senior coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as he gasped out, “Screw you...”

Takanashi’s face darkened. He shifted his weight, pressing harder against the senior’s chest. The sound of ribs cracking filled the hall, and the senior let out a strangled cry. Takanashi didn’t stop. His boot came down hard, once, twice, and then there was only silence.

The room stood frozen. No one moved, no one spoke, as Takanashi stepped back, leaving the body on the floor. His chest rose and fell with slow, measured breaths as he turned to the rest of the students, his gaze sweeping over the wide-eyed faces of the younger years and the stunned expressions of the seniors.

“Anyone else have a problem?” he asked, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

No one answered. The younger students huddled closer to the walls, their eyes fixed on the blood pooling beneath the senior’s lifeless body. Even the other upstarts shrank back, their bravado drained in the face of Takanashi’s unflinching violence.

Hiroshi, the hulking senior who had been watching silently from the sidelines, finally stepped forward. He met Takanashi’s gaze with a slow nod. “I’m with you,” he said, his voice steady.

Takanashi wiped the blood from his hands on his shirt and nodded back. “Good.” He turned to the rest of the room, his voice low and commanding. “You want to live? You follow me. No more games, no more questions. You fall in line, or you leave now!.”

The room remained silent, the weight of his words sinking in. Takanashi walked to the map on the wall, his back to the others, and began marking new positions ‘Farm’ over the athletic field in bold letters, his tone calm “Those who don't play, work”.

The growls and jeers of the Ridden followed a handful of students as they slunk toward the exit, their heads bowed. “Cowards!” one of the gang members spat, eliciting a ripple of mocking laughter. But Takanashi raised a hand, silencing them with a single motion.

Takanashi turned back to the group, his eyes narrowing as he held up his ID. The faint glow draws their eyes. “We have solar. We have water. What we don’t have is food.” His voice was steady, each word deliberate. “That’s going to change.”

He gestured to Sato, who stepped forward, his own ID already in hand. “Sato will manage our points. You want protection? You hand them over.”

A murmur rippled through the group. Some students instinctively clutched their IDs tighter, in fear.

One of the younger years hesitated, his hands trembling as he glanced between his ID and Takanashi.

Takanashi went first, he scanned Sato cards, transferring his points. “What’s it going to be?” he asked, his tone devoid of patience.

The boy finally stepped forward, holding out his ID with shaking hands. Sato snatched it without a word, scanning it quickly before handing it back.

One by one, others followed, reluctantly offering up their points. The Ridden members watched with satisfied smirks, their dominance solidified as the students filed forward to submit.

Takanashi’s gaze swept over the room once more, lingering on the few who hadn’t moved. His voice dropped, carrying an edge that sent a chill through the air. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

The remaining holdouts stepped forward quickly, their reluctance overridden by fear. Once the last ID had been scanned, “This is how we survive,” he said without looking up. “If you want to live through this, you’ll do what you’re told.”

Sato faced the group, his expression unreadable but firm. “No one eats for free, and no one gets a free ride. You’re with us, or you’re nothing.”

The room was silent once more, the faint scratching of the wind against the broken windows the only sound. Takanashi let the moment linger, ensuring Sato words had sunk in, before gesturing to Hiroshi and Sato to meet with him privately, before addressing the others with a steady and commanding tone. “The rest of you, grab a mat and get to sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”