Tokyo – Outside the Prison Walls
Evening fell softly on the city, lights flickering across buildings as the world moved forward… unaware of the storm growing inside a prison.
The phone rang in the quiet home of the Yoshida family.
"Hello?" Misaki Yoshida answered, his voice steady.
"Are you Mr. Misaki Yoshida, guardian of Hinata Tensai?" a teacher's voice asked from the other end.
"Yes, I am," Misaki replied.
"I just wanted to ask... why hasn't Hinata come to school the last three days?"
Misaki glanced into the living room.
A small figure rested on the couch.
"She'll be back tomorrow," he said softly.
"She just needed some rest."
"Alright. Thank you."
Click. The call ended.
In the hall, Hinata Tensai—Ryker's little sister—lay fast asleep on the couch, her head resting gently on Mai Yoshida's lap. A soft blanket was draped over her.
Mai stroked her hair with quiet tenderness.
"She just fell asleep... after three whole days," she murmured.
Standing nearby were Sol Yoshida and Celica, both watching silently.
Sol's fists were clenched at his side.
"Ryker... he's my best friend."
"And now he's in prison."
Celica looked down, conflicted.
"We don't even know what he's planning in there..."
Misaki looked at both of them from the hallway.
"You two," he said with a sigh, "go get some sleep. Now."
Sol and Celica exchanged a look.
Neither wanted to rest—
but they knew tomorrow might demand strength they didn't yet understand.
And so the night grew deeper.
In a quiet Tokyo home, the world still turned.
But the shadow of Ryker Tensai loomed over every heartbeat.
In Prison
The dull clang of spoons and murmured voices filled the prison cafeteria. Gray walls. Cold tables. Steel trays.
Ryker sat quietly, scooping rice into his mouth, calm as ever. Beside him, Kujo chomped away with less grace and more curiosity.
"Ryker... what's next?" Kujo asked, voice low.
Ryker didn't answer. He kept eating, eyes half-lidded, uninterested.
Kujo groaned.
"Tch... your damn attitude."
Before Ryker could even blink, a shadow loomed over their table. The sound of footsteps, fast and heavy.
WHAM.
A fist grabbed Ryker's collar, yanking him up.
"You bastard!" Higashi hissed through clenched teeth. "You manipulated me into fighting Ryu!"
The entire cafeteria went quiet. Eyes turned. Spoons froze mid-air.
Ryker didn't flinch. He looked at the hand gripping his shirt.
"Higashi," he said coolly.
"Those are hands. Not claws. So take them off me, mutt."
The grip tightened.
Kujo stood halfway. "Hey—what the hell are you doing?!"
Ryker didn't look away.
"I never told you to fight Ryu. I never even said it would work."
Higashi growled.
"You and Kujo... you spoke about Ryu's weakness!"
Ryker smirked, eyes like daggers.
"We talked. That doesn't mean we lied, or told the truth. If words alone broke you, you were already cracked."
A new presence entered.
Heavy steps. The weight of silence followed him.
Ryu.
He approached the standoff calmly, tray in hand, sitting it down nearby.
"Higashi," he said, voice cold and commanding. "What are you doing to the kid?"
Higashi stiffened.
"You're not number two anymore. Don't forget that."
Ryu turned his back to sit down.
But Higashi, teeth gritted in rage, stepped forward.
"You'll get a letter soon, Ryker," he spat.
Ryker didn't even stand.
He raised a single hand—
Middle finger.
"Send your letter straight to hell," he said, eyes dead calm.
"And fuck you."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Kujo let out a half-laugh, half-sigh.
The tension in the cafeteria didn't fade.
It only deepened.
Because everyone knew—
Ryker had just declared war.
Inside the dusty training hall, the atmosphere was thick—heavy with silence, heat, and unspoken grudges.
Ryu stood near the far wall, arms crossed, eyes half-closed like a lion resting in its den.
"Ryu."
The voice was low but serious. Higashi approached slowly, a shadow of his former self, face bruised but burning with something deeper than anger—regret.
"I want... one more chance."
His head lowered slightly.
Ryu didn't answer at first.
Then a slow breath left his nose.
"You lost," Ryu said flatly.
"In front of everyone. Why should I give you anything?"
Higashi stepped closer, clenched fists trembling.
"Because I can still prove myself. One last time. Please."
Just as the tension began to rise again—
Click.
The sound of calm footsteps.
Ryker walked in, hands in his pockets, as if none of this mattered.
He smirked.
"Yo, Ryu."
Ryu raised an eyebrow.
"The number two seat's empty, right?" Ryker said casually. "Mind if I take it?"
Before Ryu could answer, one of the older prisoners scoffed loudly.
"Go back to your crib, kid. You're not even on the board."
Ryker didn't even look at him. His eyes stayed locked on Ryu.
Ryu stood still for a long moment, then spoke.
"Today."
His voice echoed slightly.
"Higashi, you fight again. This is your last chance."
He turned to Ryker.
"If he loses... maybe I'll consider your request."
Ryker's eyes lit up—calm but hungry.
"Good."
He turned without another word and walked out.
The room fell quiet again.
One hour freedom on group
The prison yard was alive.
A full circle had formed. Inmates surrounded the center, buzzing with anticipation.
Above them all, on a crate like a throne, Ryu sat with arms folded, his sharp eyes tracking every movement.
"This is your last chance, Higashi," Ryu said coldly.
Ryker stood calm and quiet. No stance. No tension. Just stillness.
Then—
"RAAAHH!!"
Higashi charged like a beast, throwing a fierce punch aimed at Ryker's face.
CRACK!
Ryker slid back, boots scraping the gravel.
"You lose here!" Higashi barked.
He lunged again, aiming a heavy kick.
But this time—
WHAM!
Ryker caught the leg mid-air.
"Too slow."
In one fluid motion—
First hit — A jaw-snapping punch to Higashi's face.
Second hit — A sharp elbow driven into the solar plexus.
Third hit — A punishing blow to the ribs.
"Gh...!" Higashi staggered back, coughing.
He knows how to fight? Higashi thought, stunned.
Fine. Then I'll use raw strength—SUMO.
With a sudden shift, Higashi charged low, arms wide, going for a waist grab—
—ready to slam Ryker down with brute force.
But Ryker saw it coming.
He jumped.
"Tch."
And then—
BOOM!
His boot came crashing down on Higashi's spine as he landed behind him.
"Gaaah!" Higashi hit the ground face-first.
Without a moment's pause, Ryker grabbed his arm, twisting it with brutal precision.
"This…"
CRACK.
"…is the end."
A deadly lock snapped Higashi's shoulder out of place. He cried out in agony.
Ryu, watching silently, raised his hand.
"It's over."
The crowd roared.
Ryker stood. Victorious.
One move ahead. One step sharper. And completely in control.
Higashi was finished.
The fight was over.
Higashi lay defeated, groaning on the ground, arm twisted unnaturally, blood dripping from his lip. The air hung heavy.
Ryker stood alone.
Unshaken. Cold. Unbothered.
He didn't even look at Higashi. His eyes were already scanning the crowd.
Ryu, still sitting on the crate like a king, narrowed his eyes.
"All his moves…" he muttered under his breath.
"…every single hit—was aimed at a weak point."
The jaw. The solar plexus. The ribs. The spine.
And then the joint lock.
He didn't fight wild. He fought like a ghost who studied anatomy.
"That kid… isn't just strong."
"He's surgical."
Kujo, standing nearby, smirked.
"That's Ryker. He doesn't play games."
Ryu stayed silent, watching Ryker walk away from the ring like he'd done nothing.
This kid… is dangerous.
The crowd parted as Ryker passed, his expression unreadable.
He didn't smile. He didn't brag.
He just walked… straight toward Ryu.
Then he stopped, looking up.
"No. 2 seat is mine now, right?" he asked calmly.
Ryu didn't answer.
Not yet.
Because deep in his chest—
For the first time in years—
He felt something strange.
A flicker.
Unease.