Chapter Forty-Four: Maeda Tora Was Beaten

The lunch break passed quickly. After finishing his sparring with Saeko Busujima, Atsushi Aoki returned to the classroom. It wasn’t until the teacher arrived and began the lesson that he realized someone was missing.

Tora Maeda’s seat was empty.

Atsushi Aoki frowned slightly. Ever since Tora Maeda had called him “big brother,” he had never been late. Now, his sudden absence struck Atsushi as peculiar.

He considered that perhaps Maeda was simply using the restroom or had some other reason for stepping out. He decided he would ask him when he returned, and so he turned his attention to the lesson, listening to the teacher.

But even after school let out that afternoon, Tora Maeda was nowhere to be seen. This unsettled Atsushi—especially since he’d already sent Maeda a text and received no reply. He asked Kokoro Teruhashi, but she didn’t know either.

Had something happened?

A vague sense of foreboding crept over Atsushi. He shouldered his bag and strode out of the classroom, only to find a boy with a mohawk blocking his way. The boy’s face was tense as he said, “Boss Aoki, Tora’s in trouble!”

Tora? Tora Maeda!?

Atsushi’s expression changed. “What happened?”

“I only just found out. The Ishihara brothers beat up Tora during lunch break. He’s in the hospital now!” The mohawked boy’s words stunned Atsushi, a flash of anger crossing his face. His tone grew cold. “How is he?”

“They say he was unconscious when the ambulance took him to the hospital. He’s still there, but I don’t know the exact situation,” the boy replied, nervous and uneasy. “Boss Aoki, maybe you should hurry home while you can. Their aim is probably to draw you out.”

Atsushi took a deep breath, regaining his composure. His voice was calm. “All right. What’s your name?”

“I’m Taibu Matsuzaka. I used to run with Tora,” Matsuzaka answered, glancing anxiously over his shoulder, fear etched across his face. “Let’s go, quick! There are about twenty of the Ishihara crew, and some upperclassmen who never liked you are joining, too. No matter how tough you are, you can’t take them all. Let’s regroup and plan. When Tora’s back, we can gather the old crew. At least we won’t be so outnumbered.”

Seeing Matsuzaka’s genuine concern, Atsushi decided he could be trusted. He pulled out his phone. “Find out which hospital Tora’s in and go check on him. What’s your number?”

“My number is...” Matsuzaka gave it reluctantly, realizing Atsushi had no intention of leaving, his expression fraught with worry.

“I’ll call you. Go see Tora and text me his condition,” Atsushi said, his face icy. “I’ll handle this myself. Be careful.”

“Hey, isn’t that Atsushi Aoki?” A boisterous, provocative voice echoed from down the hall.

Atsushi saw Kitaro Ishihara, sneering, accompanied by a man with slicked-back hair who resembled him. A crowd followed behind, dark and vast, their numbers impossible to count. Atsushi patted Matsuzaka’s shoulder, urging him to go. He himself strode forward, utterly fearless, toward Kitaro Ishihara.

The hallway was already narrow, but the Ishihara gang marched arrogantly, blocking an entire side. They seemed like dozens, too many to count.

Students still lingering after school hid in their classrooms, peering cautiously through cracks in the doors and windows. No one dared make a sound.

Atsushi walked straight up to Kitaro Ishihara, his gaze unwavering. The man with the slicked-back hair looked at Atsushi with an indifferent expression. “You’re Atsushi Aoki?”

“You attacked Tora Maeda?” Atsushi’s anger tightened his brow, lips pressed thin, mouth turned down, exuding a fierce aura that wasn’t at all diminished by the crowd facing him.

The slicked-back man tilted his head, a mocking smile twisting his lips. “Oh, you mean that bald idiot?”

“I didn’t hit him myself...” The man pointed at Ryota Ishihara. “My little brother played with him a bit. Shame he couldn’t take it—just one strike with a bamboo sword and he passed out.”

Atsushi’s fury burned hotter inside, but outwardly he grew calmer, even relaxing his brow. “So, you gang up on Tora Maeda alone, and use a bamboo sword?”

“Hey! You bald bastard, stop pretending!” A pompadour-haired youth behind the slicked-back man suddenly shouted curses—Yasuda, who once ran with Tora.

Kitaro Ishihara stared at Atsushi as if he were already dead. “You picked a good little follower. We only wanted to ask him where you were, but he turned out to be pretty loyal.”

“Too bad he’s not very sharp,” Kitaro sneered. “Since he insisted on seeing you first, I obliged.”

Atsushi said nothing, only fixing Ishihara with a deadly stare. Kitaro felt as if a venomous snake were crawling over him, his pupils contracting and goosebumps erupting on his skin.

Yet this only fueled his rage. “Baldy, do you want to get beaten here or somewhere else?”

Atsushi drew a deep breath, suppressing his urge to thrash them right then. His voice was laced with menace. “Where did you attack Tora Maeda?”

The slicked-back man smirked. “Interesting.”

Two delinquents stepped forward, intending to grab Atsushi, but his cold stare halted them in their tracks. Atsushi then marched right up to Kitaro Ishihara, meeting the slicked-back man face-to-face, his fury so intense it was almost tranquil. “Lead the way.”

The slicked-back man licked his lips, showing Atsushi a cruel, enigmatic smile. He pushed aside the others blocking the hall and took the lead.

Kitaro Ishihara made a throat-slitting gesture toward Atsushi and sneered, following the slicked-back man out. The remaining delinquents closed in, loosely forming a circle around Atsushi.

Atsushi’s expression remained unchanged as he followed, hands in his pockets. Hidden there, his fingers toyed with a cute red Daruma sticker. He swept his cold gaze around the crowd surrounding him, his lips curling into a chill, ruthless smile.