1

  Reina came back.

  Yuzuki almost didn’t believe it when she first saw her.

  It was te, the air thick with the smell of damp pavement, the neon signs flickering in the distance like they were barely holding onto their own existence. Yuzuki had been sitting under the same rusted overhang where she had spent the st few nights, arms wrapped tightly around herself, trying to chase away the cold that had settled deep in her bones.

  And then she saw her.

  At first, she thought it was her imagination—a shadow slipping into the park, too familiar to be real. But when she looked closer, when she saw the way Reina moved—slow, dragging her feet like she had weights tied to her ankles—she knew.

  She was really back.

  And she wasn’t alone.

  Two older girls walked beside her, their expressions unreadable, their postures hardened in a way that made Yuzuki’s stomach twist.

  The other girls noticed too.

  A hush fell over the park, the quiet only broken by the sound of distant traffic.

  Reina stopped near the vending machine, her gaze sweeping across the small group of girls that had once been her family.

  “You’re back,” Mika whispered.

  Reina nodded.

  “Yeah.”

  That was it. Just one word. No expnation, no reassurance. Just a fact.

  And yet, in that one word, Yuzuki heard everything.

  ?

  2

  Yuzuki didn’t ask Reina where she had been.

  She didn’t need to.

  She saw it in the way Reina moved—like every step hurt, like she wasn’t sure if she belonged here anymore.

  She saw it in the bruises peeking out from beneath her sleeves, in the way her fingers trembled when she pulled a cigarette from her pocket.

  She saw it in her eyes—dull, distant, like something inside her had been scraped out and repced with an emptiness Yuzuki couldn’t comprehend.

  The two older girls, the ones who had returned with Reina, stayed quiet, watching everything with an unsettling sense of control.

  They weren’t like Reina.

  They weren’t broken.

  They had already adapted.

  That realization made Yuzuki feel sick.

  Because that meant Reina had been forced to adapt too.

  She remembered something the other girls had said earlier that day, when the rain had stopped just long enough for conversation to flow.

  They had talked about the local shelters. About the outreach centers.

  About how the programs nearby didn’t have enough beds. How they were underfunded. Overworked.

  They gave out some food, sure. Maybe a bnket. But they couldn’t follow up. Couldn’t keep up.

  There was no real safety. No sustainable permanent solution.

  Yuzuki remembered how the other girls earlier that day had told her the programs nearby didn't have enough resources to help them.

  “We’re doing something new,” one of the older girls finally spoke, her voice smooth, practiced.

  “New?” Mika echoed, wary.

  The girl nodded.

  “The way things were before… it didn’t work. We need something stronger, something more organized. We’re not just surviving anymore. We’re going to take control.”

  A counter-network.

  That’s what they were doing.

  Reina and the older girls were trying to create something—a system to protect the younger, more vulnerable girls.

  Yuzuki wanted to believe it was a good thing.

  But looking at Reina, looking at the way her body tensed at every sound, she wasn’t so sure.

  ?

  3

  The next night, Yuzuki went to the courts.

  She hadn’t pnned to—she had barely been able to sleep, her mind stuck in a loop of Reina’s hollow eyes and the words she didn’t say.

  So she walked.

  And somehow, she ended up here.

  Nasru was already pying by the time she arrived.

  She stayed near the edge, watching as he moved, fluid and effortless, against a group of older, taller men who should have had the advantage.

  They didn’t.

  Nasru was too fast, too precise, every movement calcuted to break down their defenses before they even had a chance to react.

  She had seen him py before, but never like this.

  This wasn’t just a game to him.

  It was something else.

  Something that kept him grounded in a way Yuzuki couldn’t fully understand.

  When the game ended, when he had won yet again, he stepped off to the side, grabbing a half-empty bottle of water from his bag.

  Yuzuki hesitated before approaching.

  “You’re not eating enough.”

  Naseru didn’t react right away. He twisted the cap off his bottle, took a sip, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “What?”

  “You look malnourished,” she said, more bluntly this time.

  He blinked at her.

  Then, instead of answering, he picked up his bag and started walking.

  Yuzuki, without really thinking, followed.

  ?

  4

  She didn’t know where Naseru was going, but she didn’t want to be alone, so she walked a few steps behind him, waiting for him to acknowledge her.

  He didn’t.

  Not until they reached a small alleyway, barely lit by a single flickering streetmp.

  There, near the dumpster, was a dog.

  Or at least, what was left of one.

  The stray had been hit by something—its body broken, lifeless, its fur matted with blood.

  Yuzuki froze.

  She didn’t know why she felt so shaken. It was just a stray, just another thing discarded by the city, like all of them.

  But when she looked at Nasru, she saw something in his face that made her stomach twist.

  He had food in his hands.

  He had come here to feed it.

  But now, there was nothing left to feed.

  Yuzuki swallowed hard.

  “You knew this dog?” she asked, voice quieter than she meant it to be.

  Naseru didn’t answer.

  He crouched down, setting the food beside the unmoving body, like it still mattered.

  Like it was still owed something.

  Then he stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  “Let’s go,” he muttered.

  Yuzuki wanted to say something, but no words came.

  So she just followed him back into the neon-lit streets, leaving the broken thing behind.

  ?

  5

  That night, Yuzuki sat in the park, staring up at the sky.

  There were no stars here.

  Just the glow of the city, the artificial lights that covered up the darkness but never truly erased it.

  Reina was back.

  Naseru was disappearing in his own way.

  And Yuzuki?

  She was starting to realize that surviving wasn’t enough.

  There were too many broken things in this world.

  Too many things that had been thrown away.

  And she wasn’t sure if she could save them.

  But she didn’t want to be another one of them.

  She didn’t want to disappear.

  Not like the dog.

  Not like Reina.

  Not like all the others who never made it back.

  So what was she going to do?

  For the first time since she ran away, she felt like she needed an answer.

  And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if her dream of being an idol was the right one anymore.

  To be continued…