The next morning dawned with a crisp chill in the air, and Takuma prepared for another day of uncertainty. He felt the growing tension around Daichi’s potential move and Sam’s plan to counter it like an invisible weight on his shoulders. His thoughts kept circling back to Miu’s words the previous evening. The sincerity in her voice and the care she showed were rare comforts in his turbulent life.
As he arrived at school, the atmosphere felt charged, as if the entire student body could sense something brewing. Conversations buzzed around the hallways, and more than a few wary glances were cast Takuma’s way. It didn’t take long for him to spot Sam leaning casually against a row of lockers, looking unusually serious.
“Morning,” Sam greeted, his tone low. His sharp eyes scanned the hallway as if expecting an ambush. “We need to talk.”
Takuma nodded and followed Sam to the library, where they found an empty corner. Sam sat down first, crossing his arms and leaning forward as he spoke. “Daichi’s been rallying more people. He’s playing the long game—picking those who are loyal and easily swayed. I overheard something interesting last night.”
“What’s that?” Takuma asked, keeping his tone even.
Sam glanced around,
ensuring no one was within earshot. His voice dropped to a whisper. “He’s planning something big, Takuma. Not just another fight. He wants to humiliate you—publicly. Something about exposing you as a fraud, though I doubt he even knows what he’s talking about. Whatever it is, he’s banking on making it dramatic.”
Takuma leaned back, his jaw tightening. “Dramatic, huh? That sounds like him. Did you get any specifics?”
Sam shook his head, frustrated. “Not yet. But he’s involving more people than I expected. If this blows up, it won’t just be you on the line. It’ll be anyone close to you.”
The words sank in, and Takuma’s mind immediately went to Miu. The thought of her getting dragged into Daichi’s schemes sent a surge of protectiveness through him. “We need to stay ahead of him,” Takuma said firmly. “Whatever he’s planning, I won’t let him hurt anyone.”
Sam gave a short nod. “Good. I’ve already made some moves of my own. You’re not the only one with unexpected allies.” A sly grin crossed his face before he leaned closer. “You remember Kaito Shiranui?”
Takuma’s brow furrowed. “Kaito? The third-year who won the national karate tournament last year?”
“The very same,” Sam replied. “Turns out, he’s got a bone to pick with Daichi, too. Something about Daichi screwing over one of Kaito’s younger cousins during a match. Long story short, Kaito’s interested in helping us. I had a chat with him yesterday.”
Takuma raised an eyebrow. “You’re bringing in Kaito? Isn’t that a bit overkill?”
“Not when the other side’s playing dirty,” Sam said with a shrug. “Besides, I’m not asking him to jump into the fray right away. Just having someone like him in our corner is enough to shake Daichi’s confidence.”
Takuma sighed. “Fine. But I don’t want this to escalate into something worse. If we’re doing this, we keep it clean.”
Sam smirked. “Always so noble, Takuma. Fine, we’ll play by your rules—for now.”
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Later that Day
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of classes, Takuma found himself walking alongside Miu on their way out of the school. She seemed quieter than usual, her hands clutching the straps of her bag as they strolled through the courtyard.
“Everything okay?” Takuma asked, glancing at her.
Miu hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, just... thinking. Things have felt a bit tense around school lately. I’ve been hearing whispers about Daichi again.”
Takuma’s stomach twisted, but he kept his expression calm. “You don’t have to worry about him. Whatever he’s planning, I’ll handle it.”
Miu stopped walking, turning to face him. Her gaze was steady, though there was a hint of concern in her eyes. “You’re not alone, you know. You don’t always have to carry everything by yourself.”
The words hit harder than Takuma expected, and he found himself struggling to respond. Miu’s ability to see through his stoic exterior always caught him off guard.
“I’ll be fine,” he said finally, offering a small, reassuring smile. “But thanks.”
Miu didn’t look entirely convinced, but she let it go. “Alright. Just... don’t do anything reckless, okay?”
Before Takuma could respond, Sam appeared out of nowhere, slinging an arm around Takuma’s shoulders. “Oi, lover boy, quit hogging all the attention. We’ve got work to do.”
Miu flushed, stepping back with an embarrassed laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said quickly before walking away, leaving Takuma and Sam behind.
As they watched her go, Sam gave Takuma a knowing look. “You really don’t see it, do you?”
“See what?” Takuma asked, genuinely confused.
Sam just shook his head with a grin. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”
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That Night
Takuma sat cross-legged on his bedroom floor, staring at the ceiling. Sam’s words lingered in his mind, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. The day’s events replayed in his head, from Sam’s warnings about Daichi to Miu’s quiet concern.
His phone buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts. It was a message from Sam.
Sam: Kaito’s in. Meeting tomorrow after school. Be ready.
Takuma stared at the message, a mix of apprehension and determination settling in his chest. The pieces were moving into place, but the game wasn’t over yet. Daichi had made the first move, but Takuma wasn’t about to let him win.
As he set his phone down, Takuma’s thoughts drifted to Miu. Her words, her expression—everything about her felt like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. But one thing was clear: no matter what happened, he’d do whatever it took to protect her.
And Daichi? He’d soon learn that Takuma wasn’t someone to be underestimated.
Takuma lay back on his futon, the dim light of his bedside lamp casting long shadows across the room. His gaze lingered on the ceiling as he tried to piece together the threads of the chaotic situation he found himself in. His breaths were slow and steady, but his mind was a turbulent storm.
"Daichi’s not dumb," Takuma thought, his fingers idly tapping against his stomach. "He’s cruel, calculating. He’s probably already anticipating a direct confrontation. That’s his style—throw the first punch and savor the chaos. He’s counting on me to react predictably."
The memory of Sam’s conversation with him earlier that day resurfaced. Kaito Shiranui. A national champion. It was a big move, but also a risky one. Bringing in someone like Kaito could escalate the conflict into uncharted territory. This wasn’t just about fights or pride anymore—Daichi’s schemes felt personal. They had depth, which meant they also had vulnerabilities.
Takuma sighed, closing his eyes. The key wasn’t just overwhelming strength or numbers. Daichi thrived on attention, on spectacle. He wanted to humiliate, to control the narrative. Takuma needed to turn that against him.
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**Plan Taking. Shape**
Takuma’s fingers curled into fists as the framework of an idea began to form in his mind. He knew Daichi’s biggest weakness wasn’t his arrogance—it was his need to be at the center of everything. Daichi didn’t just want to win; he wanted to dominate while everyone watched. If Takuma could shift that spotlight, disrupt the stage Daichi had built for himself, it could give him the upper hand.
"I can’t just fight him head-on," Takuma thought, his brow furrowed. "That’s exactly what he wants. But if I can bait him into overextending—make him feel like he’s in control while setting the ground beneath him to collapse... Yeah, that could work."
The question was: how?
Takuma sat up, his hand absently reaching for a notebook on the nearby desk. He flipped it open to a blank page, the faint scratch of the pen breaking the silence of his room.
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
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Takuma’s Notebook
1. Observation: Daichi thrives on being the center of attention. He’s a showman, and he takes calculated risks when he knows the odds are stacked in his favor.
2. Weaknesses: Daichi’s ego blinds him. If he thinks he’s already won, he won’t look for traps. He also doesn’t work well when things get unpredictable—he relies on control and fear to maintain his edge.
3. Strategy: Use his arrogance and desire for attention against him. Create a situation where he feels compelled to act but is unaware of the risks until it’s too late.
4. Allies: Kaito could be a trump card. His reputation alone might make Daichi hesitate. But Kaito can’t be brought in openly. If Daichi knows someone of that caliber is involved, he’ll adjust. It has to be subtle.
Takuma tapped his pen against the page, staring at the list. The key to success wasn’t just in brute force it was in precision. Takuma needed to turn Daichi's strengths into weaknesses, while reinforcing his own position without anyone, including Daichi, noticing until it was too late.
He leaned back again, staring at the ceiling, the pen twirling between his fingers. “What’s the one thing Daichi can’t resist? An audience. He needs people to see him as powerful, in control. If I can create the right scenario… a public confrontation that he thinks is on his terms but isn’t—then I’ll have the advantage.”
The idea was forming slowly but surely. Takuma needed a stage that wasn’t just physical but psychological. Somewhere Daichi would feel overconfident. Somewhere he could lure him into exposing his true self, his vulnerabilities.
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THE NEXT MORNING
The school buzzed with the usual morning energy. Students shuffled into their classrooms, exchanging sleepy greetings or animated discussions about their evenings. Takuma walked into the classroom, his face unreadable as always, but his mind was sharp, running through the pieces of his plan.
Miu glanced up as he entered, offering a small smile. “Morning, Takuma.”
“Morning,” he replied, his voice steady, betraying none of the storm brewing inside him.
Sam was already in his seat, scrolling through his phone. When Takuma sat down, Sam leaned over and whispered, “You look like you didn’t sleep much. Planning something?”
Takuma didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were fixed on the blackboard at the front of the classroom, but his thoughts were miles away. Sam’s words, though simple, pierced through his mental fog. Planning wasn’t just something he was doing—it had consumed him. Every move, every possibility, every outcome was a puzzle piece in the larger game he was forced to play against Daichi.
“I wouldn’t call it a plan yet,” Takuma murmured, his voice low enough that only Sam could hear. “It’s more like… lining up the dominoes and waiting for the right moment to push.”
Sam tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “That sounds ominous. You’re not going full mastermind on me, are you?”
Takuma turned slightly, his expression deadpan but tinged with dry humor. “If I were , I wouldn’t be telling you.”
Sam snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Fair enough. But you know, whatever you’re cooking up, I’ve got your back. Just… don’t get too lost in your own head, alright? You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”
Takuma didn’t respond immediately. Sam’s words lingered, heavy with concern. It wasn’t like him to pry too much, but this time, it was clear Sam was sensing something deeper. Takuma appreciated it, though he couldn’t fully acknowledge it right now. There was too much riding on his next moves.
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CLASS BEGINS
The day’s lessons were a blur. Takuma’s pen moved on autopilot, jotting down notes he wasn’t truly processing. His mind was consumed with refining his plan and identifying the key moments he needed to control. Every risk had to be minimized, every variable accounted for. Daichi wasn’t an opponent who made mistakes easily; pushing him off balance would take both precision and subtlety.
Occasionally, Takuma glanced around the classroom. The usual chatter and rhythms of student life provided a deceptive normalcy, but he couldn’t help scanning for signs of Daichi’s influence. The way certain students avoided eye contact or spoke in hushed tones hinted at lingering tension. Even if no one openly acknowledged it, the shadow of Daichi’s schemes hung over them all.
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LUNCHTIME
When the bell rang for lunch, the usual shuffle of students rushing to the cafeteria filled the air. Takuma stood from his desk, but before he could leave, Miu approached him, a bento box in her hands. Her expression was as bright as ever, but there was a hint of hesitation in her movements.
“Takuma,” she started, her voice soft but steady. “Want to eat together? I, um, made too much this morning.”
Takuma blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “You… made extra?”
Miu nodded quickly, her cheeks slightly pink. “It’s not a big deal or anything! I just thought… well, you always seem busy, and I figured you might skip lunch again.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Takuma’s lips. Miu had a knack for noticing things, even when he thought he was being subtle. “Thanks. I’ll take you up on that.”
They found a quiet spot in the courtyard under the shade of a large tree. The autumn breeze was crisp, rustling the leaves above them as they sat cross-legged on the grass. Miu opened the bento, revealing an assortment of neatly arranged dishes. There was tamagoyaki, grilled fish, pickled vegetables, and rice sprinkled with furikake.
“Wow,” Takuma said, genuinely impressed. “You went all out.”
Miu waved a hand dismissively, though her expression brightened at the compliment. “It’s nothing fancy. Just… practice.”
Takuma picked up a pair of chopsticks and tasted the tamagoyaki. The sweet, fluffy texture melted in his mouth, and he gave a slight nod of approval. “This is good. Way better than anything I could make.”
Miu grinned, a rare moment of pride flashing in her eyes. “Well, if you ever want lessons, I could—” She paused abruptly, realizing how forward she sounded. “I mean, if you’re interested! No pressure or anything.”
Takuma chuckled lightly, sensing her flustered energy. “I might take you up on that. My cooking could definitely use an upgrade.”
They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the usual awkwardness of teenage interaction softened by the simple act of sharing a meal. Takuma found himself relaxing more than he had in days, the weight of his plans and the conflict with Daichi momentarily pushed to the background.
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A SUBTLE SHIFT
As they finished eating, Miu leaned back on her hands, gazing up at the sky. Her voice was quieter when she spoke again. “You’ve seemed… different lately. More focused, but also kind of distant. Is everything okay?”
Takuma hesitated, unsure how to respond. He didn’t want to burden her with the full scope of what was happening, but he also knew she deserved honesty. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind,” he admitted. “Things I need to figure out.”
Miu studied him for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “You don’t have to do everything alone, you know.”
Her words hit harder than he expected. There was no pity in her tone, only a quiet sincerity that made it difficult to brush off. Takuma gave a small nod, grateful but unsure how to respond.
Before either of them could say more, the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted them. Sam appeared, his usual laid-back grin in place. “Am I interrupting something, or is this a public picnic?”
Miu rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at her lips. “You’re just in time to clean up, Sam.”
“Ah, freeloading and then doing chores? My favorite.” Sam plopped down beside them, unbothered by the teasing. He glanced at Takuma, his expression briefly shifting to something more serious. “You good?”
Takuma met his gaze, understanding the unspoken question. “Yeah. I’m good.”
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AFTER SCHOOL
As the day wound down and the final bell rang, Takuma packed his things, his mind already returning to the blueprint he’d been crafting. But as he walked through the school gates, he couldn’t shake the lingering warmth from lunch with Miu and Sam. It was a small moment, but it reminded him why he was fighting so hard to stay ahead of Daichi’s schemes—not just for himself, but for the people who had become his quiet anchors in an otherwise chaotic world.
He clenched his fists, determination hardening in his chest. The dominoes were in place. Now, he just needed to wait for the right moment to push.
WALKING HOME
The cool evening breeze brushed against Takuma’s face as he strolled home. The golden glow of the setting sun stretched shadows across the sidewalk, painting the world in hues of orange and purple. His mind buzzed with fragments of ideas, potential strategies, and what-ifs.
Daichi wasn’t the only thing on his mind, though. The lunch with Miu replayed in his head, her simple but meaningful words resonating more than he expected: “You don’t have to do everything alone.”
He frowned slightly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Miu didn’t know the full extent of what he was dealing with. If she did, would she still offer that kind of support? Or would she keep her distance like most people had when they saw who he truly was?
“Stop overthinking,” he muttered to himself. “Focus on what’s in front of you.”
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AT HOME
The warm scent of simmering curry greeted him as he opened the door. His house was modest but comfortable, the kind of place where small, happy memories accumulated like snowflakes. As he stepped into the entryway, he slipped off his shoes and called out, “I’m back.”
No response.
Odd. His mom usually called out from the kitchen or at least peeked her head out to greet him. Maybe she was too busy cooking? Shrugging it off, Takuma set his bag down near the wall and walked toward the kitchen, the wooden floor creaking softly under his steps.
The sight that greeted him wasn’t what he expected. The pot of curry on the stove was bubbling away unattended, and there was no sign of his mom.
“Mom?” he called out, his voice louder this time.
Nothing.
Takuma frowned. She never left food cooking like that, especially without a timer. A strange sense of unease settled in his chest. He turned off the stove, grabbed a dish towel, and checked the rest of the house.
The living room was empty. Her bedroom was undisturbed. The bathroom door was open, lights off. Everything was in its usual place—except her.
“Where could she have gone?” Takuma muttered under his breath, his unease growing into a gnawing worry.
Then, he saw it.
On the coffee table in the living room sat an envelope with his name scrawled on the front in hurried, uneven handwriting.
His heart dropped.
He grabbed the envelope, ripped it open, and unfolded the piece of paper inside. The handwriting was definitely his mom’s, but it was shaky, almost frantic.
Takuma,
I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, but I couldn’t risk putting you in danger. They came for me today. I don’t know what they want, but I can’t let them use me against you.
Stay safe.
Love, Mom.
The paper slipped from Takuma’s hands as a chill shot down his spine.
“Who?” he whispered to himself, his voice trembling.
And then, as if in answer, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Slowly, he pulled it out and saw a single, cryptic message from an unknown number:
“If you want to see her again, come alone.”
The message was followed by an address.
Takuma’s grip tightened on the phone as the weight of the situation hit him. His mom had been taken.
The room felt cold, the quiet oppressive. His mind raced with questions, fears, and plans.
But one thing was clear.
Whoever they were, they had made a grave mistake.
Takuma’s eyes hardened as he grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the house, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination.
He didn’t know what lay ahead, but he was prepared to face it.
For her.
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The camera pans to a shadowed figure standing in the alley near the address sent to Takuma. The figure smirks, holding a familiar locket in their hand—one Takuma had seen his mother wear every day.