Forcing himself to walk under the scorching sun, he barely dragged his feet, wearing the same set of clothes, only a spare, holding a paper bag filled to the brim with medicine for his soul. Namely, an incredible amount of sweets, enough to cause diabetes, or at least nausea.
Usually, they helped him forget everything and focus only on the riot of flavors in his mouth, but not today. No sooner had he managed to get Makoto's previous words out of his head than a new batch entered his brain.
“Even sweets don't appeal to me. Truly, dark times have come.”
Sighing deeply, he scratched his head. So hard that he could easily have torn off his skin, as if trying to pull the thoughts out of his head along with a tuft of hair, one of the many bad habits that made themselves known when something was seriously gnawing at his soul.
“Keep faith in people, maybe even in me, right? Even the heroes of old games don't say such clichéd nonsense.”
Maybe for a single moment he felt that there was something sincere and true in her words. He really wanted to believe it, even if only for a damn moment. But he brushed the thought aside with the fury of a man throwing his phone against the wall, hoping it would shatter into a thousand pieces with no chance of repair.
Makoto spoke only of idealism and naivety, which were foreign to Minato. By nature, he was nothing more than a cynic, and therefore did not believe that there could be anything good in him.
He kept telling himself that he helped Aranagi only because she was nearby, only because by helping her, she would be indebted to him and tell him what he wanted to know.
After all, in his view of the world, he was nothing more than a wind-up doll that had stopped working properly. A doll whose gears had crumbled to dust, preventing it from functioning properly. A doll whose gears were responsible for all the emotions and feelings that made a person human. And he couldn't understand how anyone could hope that such a doll was capable of sincere sympathy for a stranger.
“Tsk. Why the hell am I even thinking about this? Now I can't even be alone with my thoughts because of it.”
And, of course, the more he tried to get it out of his head, the louder those thoughts buzzed in it. A well of self-flagellation from which there was no escape. But if he had decided to roll into the abyss, then at least step by step. With the dignity of a drowned man.
“To hell with it. I have to do everything step by step. Enjoy my uselessness today and prepare my uselessness for tomorrow.”
Even if it was escapism in its purest form, it was far better than dwelling on thoughts that made Minato want to hang himself, without irony.
“Well, at least the wounds hardly hurt. That's something.”
Minato muttered, rubbing his bandaged side under the fabric of his T-shirt. His wounds healed faster than a dog's, but wounds like these would take at least a few days. Until then, no more battles with suspicious characters in a warehouse filled with trash, deadly traps, and sharp objects. As soon as the memories of yesterday flooded back, so did the desire to smash Suoh's face into a pulp over and over again.
“Crap, I’ve lost my student card.”
“MiMi-san!” A sudden cry from behind forced Minato to stop as abruptly as a race car crashing into a tree.
However, the person shouting, who was clearly running to catch up with Minato, was unable to brake sharply. And then he crashed into his back, knocking the bag of sweets out of his lazy grip.
The contents of the bag of joy were now scattered across the hot asphalt. The sight was so unbearable that his heart bled.
Without even looking at the culprit, Minato grabbed him by the head and lifted him a couple of inches off the ground, with an incredible desire to crush his head like a ripe watermelon. But when he looked at the face of the destroyer of his joy, he saw a familiar face.
“M? Tsuna?”
Behind the glasses, he saw his partner in misfortune, with whom he cleans up the dump for the yakuza, and an endlessly optimistic guy, the complete opposite of Minato. And now this guy was writhing in pain from the painful grip, covered in all kinds of cuts.
“Ouch! Ouch, ouch! MiMi-san, let go! My head is going to burst like a ripe berry! I'm too young to die like this!”
Tsuna cried out, twitching like a fish thrown ashore. It was a pity he wasn't as silent as a fish.
Finally letting go of his comrade's head, Minato sighed deeply, rubbing his tired eyes.
“Why did you run? Just look what you've done to my precious treats.”
Minato pointed to the melting desserts. Anyone who loved sweets as much as he did would have burst into tears at that moment.
“Um, I'm sorry? Okay, okay, I'll buy you something sweet, just stop staring at me!”
“It's nice to deal with you. So? What did you want?”
Minato asked casually in his deadpan voice, in a futile attempt to distract himself from yesterday.
“Ah! Right. Check out what I found.”
With these words, Tsuna took several ampoules of the painfully familiar purple liquid out of his pants pocket, the sight of which made Minato feel nauseous. However, the fact that Tsuna had several samples was a surprise to him. Of course, he didn't suspect him of distributing it, he wasn't schizophrenic. But the presence of these ampoules raised questions. However...
“So you're also with the catch?”
Minato asked, taking several ampoules out of his pocket. The very same ampoules he had obtained from Suoh's assistants. At the sight of them, Tsuna's eyes widened to an unprecedented size and nearly popped out of their sockets. Like a Chihuahua that had been given a slap on the back of the head.
“Huh? You have some too? But how...”
“We'll talk about that somewhere else. Preferably somewhere with air conditioning, where you can pay for the cold-blooded murder of my darlings.”
Minato concluded coldly, hiding the ampoules in his pocket. Perhaps this was a good opportunity to tell him about yesterday, omitting some details that Minato did not want to share under any circumstances.
“I hope you'll be kind to my wallet. Huh? Hey, Mimi-san, look.”
Looking in the direction Tsuna pointed, Minato saw a couple of familiar faces beating someone up in an alleyway.
“Huh? Aren't those the two idiots who are always following that sand-throwing bully around? I thought they'd given up on that shit.”
“Me too. But, what can I say, can you help? Maybe we can calm them down without violence.”
Although Tsuna knew perfectly well that it was impossible for Minato to reason with the bullies without violence, at least he hoped that everything would end with minor injuries. Maybe. Probably.
“Hey, Idiot A and Idiot B. Aren't you tired of your routine? You could go crazy doing this shit day after day.”
Turning around at Minato's emotionless voice, the two hangers-on's expressions changed dramatically, and their menacing looks were replaced by the most accommodating ones, like those of employees who pander to their boss in every way in the hope of getting a promotion. Only for some reason, their faces seemed sincere.
“Oh, look, bro! It's our Aniki!”
“Greetings, Aniki!”
Not only Tsuna, but Minato as well froze in place at this sudden change in behavior, thinking that the real rude hangers-on had been kidnapped and replaced with clones from the lab, and that cameras had been installed nearby.
“Okay, I'm a little confused. Aren't you guys with Kagero? What do you mean, ‘our Aniki’?”
Tsuna asked timidly, still expecting to be punched in the face.
"Huh? No, Sunahara Aniki fell into some kind of depression after the events of April, so he told us to choose what to do ourselves. You helped us both, so we are indebted to you, Miyamoto Aniki, Kazeharu Aniki!"
Both looked at the former hangers-on as if they were two mad prophets shouting in the middle of the street about the end of the world because of the sinfulness of people. That's how delusional the situation was.
“What should we do, MiMi-san? I think this is too much.”
“Hmm, two personal servants? I could get used to that. All right, in that case, here's your first order.”
“MiMi-san? Don't you think you're going a little overboard? Just a little?”
“Oh, fine, fine. You boring bastards. First and last order, cut it out. You're in your senior year, it's time to think about the future. Go read some books or something. Anything, just don't fill your heads with this crap. And stop beating people up.”
While Minato lectured them like a strict teacher, the hangers-on carefully wrote everything down in their little notebooks. They were like faithful students listening to the teachings of a master, as if he were the reincarnation of Buddha.
Meanwhile, Tsuna went over to the guy who was being beaten up by two bullies. He looked like a skinny guy in their school's summer uniform, who had probably been left behind for extra classes because of poor grades. He had round glasses and slicked-back black hair like a nerd from a poster. Blood was flowing from the corner of his mouth, and his clothes were covered in dust. He looked as scared as a beaten dog.
“Hey, are you okay? Don't be afraid, everything's fine. Let me take a look at your wounds.”
But as soon as the boy saw who was reaching out to him and who was scolding the bullies, his face changed dramatically.
His expression changed from that of a whimpering dog to a vicious snarl, and he pushed Tsuna's hand away. It was as if it wasn't a helping hand, but a red-hot brand that would seal his shame and humiliation.
“Tsk. Couldn't you go any slower, our special ones?”
“Huh? What?”
Without saying a word, the guy left, carelessly slinging his bag over his shoulder, causing several items to fall out. But he didn't care.
“Well, I can understand why you beat him up. He's just asking for it. But still, beating someone else up because of their bad temper is not a good decision.”
Minato muttered coldly, feeling little sympathy for the four-eyed guy.
“Don't get me wrong, Miyamoto Aniki, we wouldn't have gone out of our way to crush his cabin. He started snapping at us and provoking us himself.”
“Seriously? You're not lying to avoid looking like jerks in our eyes?”
Tsuna asked suspiciously, causing the two lackeys to nod their heads chaotically, so vigorously that their necks could have fallen off.
“Honest! We'll cut off our hands if you don't believe us.”
“No, there's no need for that. Still waters run deep, and he seems to be just an idiot who's resentful of life.”
Minato muttered, picking up the four-eyed student's id card from the ground, which had his information written on them.
“Yorinobu. We'll write it down. Okay, you two learn your lesson and stay out of trouble. That's all. Let's go, Tsuna.”
“Huh? Oh, right. Good luck, guys. I don't know why you've changed so much, but do your best.”
With that, Tsuna bowed slightly to the intellectually challenged duo, who were ready to whine like two happy puppies, and hurried after Minato.
...
Finding the nearest shopping center, Minato and Tsuna rushed into the first air-conditioned café they came across. The heat, as scorching as a hot frying pan, gave way to heavenly coolness, which at least prevented them from overheating.
“Ah, Moses probably didn't feel as satisfied finding the Promised Land as I do arriving here.”
“Don't say that, I thought I was going to die under this sun. Although, it's probably better than watching my wallet rapidly empty due to your demands.”
Tsuna said, shedding a single tear over how much his wallet had lost in weight due to compensation for moral damage to Minato, who had ordered half of the possible sweets on the menu.
“It's your own fault. You killed my darlings, so please pay reparations for your crime.”
Enough (as much as possible with his emotional range), said Minato. If he were more emotional, he would already be purring.
“Reparations are one thing, outright robbery is another! Ah, what's the point of arguing with you if you won't listen.”
Lowering his head, Tsuna tried to gather his thoughts, remembering why they had come here in the first place.
“Haven't you noticed? There are a lot of people here. Is it some kind of holiday?”
Minato wondered, lazily watching the people passing by the window, dressed in some kind of merchandise that he didn't feel like looking at.
“Huh? No. Some idol is going to be shaking hands and signing autographs, so a lot of people came early to make sure they didn't miss it.”
“Really? Honestly, I never understood events like this. It's idiotic.”
Minato muttered, having had the unfortunate experience of meeting some hardcore fans of idols and VTubers. His words earned him a skeptical look from Tsuna.
“To each his own. What if Dreiman or Shinoda were signing autographs here?”
“What if there was a signing by a tall, beautiful, older Specialist with size C breasts?”
Tsuna was about to open his mouth to defend his honor, but Minato's words were true. Much more true than he wanted to admit.
“Okay. Touché, I raise the white flag.”
After sitting in silence for a couple of minutes, they both finally sighed, abstracting themselves from their surroundings and everything that could distract them from the truly important things. And it wasn't even a conversation about the ideal breast size.
“...Actually, that's how I got them. I had to run around and wait, but the catch is pretty big.”
After finishing recounting his yesterday's adventures to his friend, Minato held a dozen small ampoules in his hands, which miraculously remained intact after yesterday's fight with Suoh.
“You know, after hearing your story, mine doesn't seem so special anymore. It's like you have The Silmarillion, and I have the damn Twilight.”
“You think so? Stranger things have happened to me. But let's leave that for another time. Tell me how you stumbled upon your treasure.”
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Folding his arms across his chest, Minato leaned back in his chair, already having a rough idea of what had happened, but not wanting to make any assumptions until he heard it firsthand.
...
It was hot as hell at the dump, and stuffy as a sauna, as if the earth itself had decided to boil from within.
Tsuna slowly trudged along the rusty ruins, dragging behind him a bundle of wire, steel pipes, and several parts that he didn't even try to identify. His shirt had long since become soaked and stuck to his body, as if trying to become one with his skin. His hands were literally shaking from exhaustion, his head was buzzing as if he were inside a bell that had been struck with a sledgehammer, and his back ached as if a violin string had been stretched across his spine.
With the effort of Sisyphus pushing a boulder to the top of a slope, he reached the edge of the site, threw the metal into a huge pile of identical pieces of scrap, and looked up at the mountains of scrap that still had to be sorted through. A heavy, exhausted sigh escaped his mouth.
His palms were cut by metal, his skin stained with rust, covering him with spots like a cheetah. His T-shirt was stuck to him with sweat, as if a liter of liquid could be squeezed out of it.
“That's it. I can't do it. I'm definitely going to kick the bucket now. And only white ashes will remain after me.”
Tsuna muttered hoarsely as he sat down on a seat he had pulled out of one of the cars.
But as soon as he leaned back, Minato's gloomy face appeared before his eyes. Not the real one, of course, but an abstract one, with his trademark emotionless expression, which managed to scare him more than any horror movie. And along with it, words that worked better than any motivational speaker.
“Let's go explore the bottom of Yodo with our feet cemented in place.”
A cold sweat ran down his back, covering him with a wave of anxiety, as if someone had splashed him with ice water from a bucket.
“No, no, no. Going home means death. If Mimi-san isn't here today, that means I have to work twice as hard.”
He groaned and rose to his shaky feet, cursing his moral stability and all ability to self-preserve.
He had already taken a step toward the next pile, but suddenly froze. His gut told him that something was wrong. Only he himself couldn't understand what.
He had no special ability to scan his surroundings. And his surroundings hadn't changed at all. Life went on as usual. And yet...
“Something's not right.”
Armed with his premonition, the detective from the dump went on an unscheduled investigation, moving like the hero of a lousy stealth action game, when he suddenly heard a muffled sound. Voices. He pressed himself against the body of a worn-out sedan, just a couple of meters from the source of the noise.
Their accomplices always made sure that no one entered the territory and asked unnecessary questions. But someone still found their way here.
In a pocket between several containers and a mountain of carcasses, he saw a scene that looked like it was cut out of a bad crime movie.
Three people, two of whom were ordinary thugs. If he could compare the ordinariness of their faces and how unmemorable they were, he would most likely be able to remember the face of a random person from the crowd in the subway during rush hour than remember their faces five minutes after leaving here.
But in front of the forgettable punks stood a girl whose image definitely stuck in his memory.
Tanned milk chocolate skin, platinum white hair reaching her waist. Her only clothing was a black sleeveless turtleneck and jeans with a vertical rip in the left leg. She wasn't even wearing shoes, which made Tsuna grimace, not even wanting to imagine what it would be like to walk barefoot on hot metal.
A mixture of cigarette smoke and cloyingly sweet perfume wafted from the trio, blending into a deadly mixture that would kill even a horse if exposed to it for long enough.
But Tsuna was distracted from these thoughts by a girl who took a couple of ampoules out of her pocket, the very ones Aranagi had warned him about just yesterday. This literally sent a shiver down his spine.
“One of the dealers of this junk?”
He wanted to intervene right away, but he knew perfectly well that any attempt to do so would end in a trip to the other world, with no chance of continuing from the checkpoint. And so, he waited, hoping for the best.
“The deal is off.”
The girl muttered lazily, her voice quite even, without a hint of fear.
“Huh? I see you've lost all fear, Haruka? I thought we agreed that in exchange for information, you would give us what we are owed!”
“Oh, about that. I didn't agree to anything. All you have to do is dangle what he craves so eagerly in front of his nose, and he'll be ready to perform tricks like a circus animal.”
She said this in a cynical voice, a haughty smirk on her face that made Tsuna shudder. Even though he wasn't involved in the conflict.
“Damn bitch. Don't even think you can boss us around like pawns!”
Both guys were ready to use their acquired abilities, wanting to take by force what they believed was rightfully theirs. However, fate had other plans, and clearly not in favor of the dependent duo.
In an instant, her hand spread apart. No, not like that. It blossomed like a flower opening.
A blade protruded from her, as if from bone, from shoulder to wrist. Smooth, shiny, as if alive, with a will of its own.
With a single lightning-fast thrust, she severed both men's Achilles tendons, and they collapsed with screams, clutching their legs.
Her movements were precise and calculated. They were somewhat similar to Minato's movements, with one exception. Where Minato relied on brute force and the explosive power of his strikes, the girl used quick and deadly movements, relying on efficiency, fatal efficiency.
“I'm not doing this out of malice. It's just that there's no other way to get through to you idiots.”
She said calmly, tucking the blade into her arm as if she were putting a sword into its sheath.
Tsuna watched this with bated breath. His body trembled at everything that was happening, as if someone had poured a dozen giant slugs down his neck.
His mind screamed at him to run away. After all, it was clear from her movements that she was a professional who would simply cut him down and gut him like a fish if it came to a direct confrontation. Besides, these guys lying on the ground were just the dregs of society. They deserved it for their actions.
But his body had a different opinion on the matter. He stood rooted to the spot, unable to take a step back. It was as if someone was pushing him from behind, telling him not to run away.
“Damn it, what am I doing?”
He wanted to slap himself a few times to bring himself to his senses. He was scared, and he felt, no, he knew that he could very well die if he went against her. But even if these two, lying there and screaming in pain, were just trash, he couldn't leave them to their fate. Just like the day Minato recognized him.
“Hey!”
Before he realized what he was doing, a cry escaped his mouth. It was uncertain, but loud enough to draw everyone's attention to him. The surprised gaze of a girl named Haruka fell on him, a gaze that still retained its sharpness.
“Huh? I thought no one was supposed to be here. Well, well, you're covered in dirt. Are you homeless at such a young age?”
Haruka asked in a curious voice, looking at Tsuna as if he was a caveman.
“Hell no! I work here... Hold up! This isn't about me right now!”
If he could convince her to leave by engaging in idiotic conversation, he would gladly try on a colorful wig and a red nose. But alas, he knew perfectly well that this was not the way out.
“Maybe that's enough? They can't even stand up!”
“Huh? Of course they can't, I cut their legs off. Oh, did you know that a person can't walk normally if you cut off their big toe? Maybe that's what we should have done?”
The girl scratched her head thoughtfully. Her behavior was chaotic and inconsistent. Just standing next to her was as dangerous as having a close conversation with someone who could punch you in the face at any moment.
“Listen, buddy, are you sympathizing with these scumbags? Do you even know what these two did while they were high on the serum?” Haruka, who was a head taller than Tsuna, looked at him questioningly. There was a certain childlike naivety in her gaze, mixed with a willingness to cut him down for the wrong answer.
“No. I don't know. How the hell should I know? I can't read other people's minds, but I know these two are just ordinary scum. Maybe in your understanding of the world, it would be better if they died here and now, but I just can't accept that, even if your choice is the right one in the long run.”
He looked into her eyes, and all the fear and uncertainty that had lingered there disappeared without a trace. He still didn't want to resort to fighting, but if he had no choice, he would accept the fight. If he fell a hundred times, he would get up a hundred and one times. If he cut off his legs, he would crawl like a worm.
“And where does this righteousness come from, kid?”
“Because I'd rather regret what I did than what I didn't do.”
A deep sigh escaped Haruka's mouth, along with a slight chuckle that turned the questioning expression on his face into a smirk.
“Commendable, no doubt about it. But I can't allow it. It's a shame, you're very much to my taste.”
Without hesitation, she lunged forward as if her body were a tightly compressed spring. Her hand, which had turned into a blade, sliced through the air where Tsuna's head had been if he hadn't ducked. “Damn it, why does everything always have to come down to a fight!?”
Tsuna asked himself this question repeatedly as he retreated, kicking a lonely rusty hood that he threw at the girl with a whistle.
But the sheet of metal was destroyed by a single surgically precise cut, and the two halves of the hood landed on either side of Haruka. But he didn't expect it to do any damage. Just a second's delay would be enough to try to take the initiative.
Despite his training with Minato, his Special was still quite weak; he couldn't create hurricanes with his willpower, and even moderately strong gusts of wind caused him unbearable muscle pain. But a light breeze was within his capabilities.
Raising a small wind, Tsuna sent a cloud of dust with bolts and glass shards into her face. She closed her eyes but did not stop moving. Remembering Tsuna's approximate location, she put all her strength into a stabbing blow, trying to pierce him like meat on a skewer.
But Tsuna dove again, knocking her off balance with a sweep, and then, making an arc with his foot on the ground, he kicked her in the jaw, which was open for the blow.
He didn't have the same explosive physical strength as Minato, which he had mastered in a few months of training. That's why he tried to find his own style that would suit him both physically and ideologically.
Quick blows to the jaw and sweeps became the basis for him to neutralize his opponents with the least amount of bloodshed. But...
“Hey, what are you doing? Did you really think that would knock me down?”
The girl's cheerful voice made Tsuna shudder. He knew his blows lacked power, but could they really have no effect other than to stir up her fighting spirit?
He tried to return his leg to its original position and jump away, but she grabbed his ankle and nearly cut off his leg at the knee. The blade had already cut him below the knee, causing him to grit his teeth. The fear of death filled his mind again, as if an endless number of slimy jellyfish had enveloped him and would not let go.
But he pushed the fear aside, even if it meant enduring the pain. With his supporting leg, he jumped off the ground and aimed a kick at her chest, between her head and the blade that was sinking deeper and deeper into his leg. he struck Haruka in the solar plexus, knocking the air out of her lungs, which allowed him to break free from her grip, albeit at the cost of a burning wound.
“Ouch. That burns like hell!”
He cried out to himself, clenching his teeth so hard they almost broke, just to suppress the scream of pain.
He rushed forward, realizing that he would have to give it his all if he wanted to get out of there in one piece, rather than as a first-class carving for Hannibal Lecter's table.
He grabbed some wire and a rusty pipe lying nearby. They weren't weapons, but they would do as auxiliary tools.
Haruka, who had come to her senses, rubbed the spot where she had been kicked. For the first time in a long time, she felt real pain. But it did not cause her anger, fear, or bloodlust. On the contrary, it caused her joy. It was the pain that made her feel more alive than ever.
“Not bad, kid! You might not be so bad after all!”
In the blink of an eye, her right hand turned into a curved blade, somewhat resembling a scythe. A true reaper's weapon. But that didn't change much.
Tsuna dodged the wide swing of the blade and was already ready to strike her in the head with the pipe, but the tip of Haruki's scythe pierced the door of one of the cars parked there, turning it into a shield that the pipe crashed into.
The metal hummed, and the vibration reverberated in his hand, causing a slight tremor throughout his body. However, he did not stop, even the doubled risk of being chopped up did not slow him down.
She pushed him with her improvised shield into the nearest wreck. It felt like she was the batter and he was a little baseball. The sharp contact with the metal made his back crack unhealthily, and the air left his lungs. And the promising future baseball star clearly wasn't going to wait.
She lunged at him, both blades ready to chop him to pieces, while his only weapons were his limbs, which he could easily lose, and some old wire. That was all he needed.
“Shit. Looks like I'll have to play copycat after all.”
Tsuna muttered to himself, raising his head sharply. There was not a trace of fear in his eyes. The wind blew the wire right between Haruka's eyes, to which she barely reacted, deflecting it with the blade of her left hand, which gave Tsuna plenty of time to jump away from the skeleton standing behind her and jump over Haruka, who had made a deep cross-shaped cut in the skeleton of the machine.
Hovering over Haruka like a storm cloud, Tsuna put all his strength into a sweeping kick that struck the most vulnerable part of her head, her temple.
Blood flowed from her head, and with it, her half-manic smile widened. Her left arm returned to its original form and dug into his leg with a death grip.
“Are you starting to catch up?”
The girl practically sang. Swinging her arm, she slammed Tsuna into the ground thanks to her excellent physical condition. Every muscle in her arm was strained to the limit for a single attack.
There was another painful crack in his back, accompanied by a muffled cry of pain. If he continued to expose himself to attacks like this, he would surely end up dead. But his strength alone would not be enough. And there was no time to think.
“But that didn't stop MiMi-san. So what makes me any worse!?”
Rolling away from her leg, which almost turned his skull to mush, Tsuna kicked her in the ribs, knocking her off balance and causing a painfully familiar crunch. But she managed to slash his thigh with her scythe, and blood continued to stain his pants red.
Each subsequent slash of the scythe was faster and closer. Tsuna hit her in the ribs and lungs, but this endurance game only resulted in more cuts. If he continued to play her game, he would either make a fatal mistake or collapse to the ground from blood loss.
“Already losing steam, huh? Don't be a laughing stock, kid!”
When Tsuna tried to grab her waist to throw her, she just dug her feet into the ground, so he couldn't move her.
“If you want to measure ideals, then please prove your words with actions!”
Grabbing Tsuna's hair, she slammed her knee into his face, blood splattering everywhere, and his nose swelled and made an unpleasant crunching sound. But she had no intention of stopping. She trampled his head into the ground and was ready to crush his skull.
However, for some reason, he was sure that if he died here, Minato would restart his heart with an electric shock and then kill him himself. And he would not accept such shame in front of the person who believed in him.
His eyes opened wide, like a man who realized he had overslept all his alarms. Rolling sharply onto his side, he braced himself on his left arm, not even glass and other sharp debris stopping him, and swinging his legs into the air, he aimed for her jaw. But seeing that she was ready to block the attack to the head, his leg changed trajectory, and curving like a question mark, the blow was delivered straight between her ribs.
"As if I don't know that! But that's exactly why I'm going to fight to the end! And why the hell are you only hitting me in the head!? What if I get completely stupid!?“
”There's nothing wrong with a little stupidity. It's even cute.“
”Go to hell with your cute!"
As much as he wanted to say everything he was thinking, Tsuna knew that a little more and he would fall down dead. But he had no right to die here. He had no right to betray Minato's trust, and above all, he didn't want to betray himself. After all, if he died here, everything would have been in vain.
Almost the entire time they were fighting, he tried to come up with some kind of plan. But nothing came to mind, until now. The gears in his head started turning, and looking at the piles of scrap metal a few dozen meters behind Haruka, Tsuna couldn't help but smile. The light bulb of an idea lit up like the Library of Alexandria.
“Heh. I'm a genius.”
“Huh? Why are you smiling? Have you gotten a taste for it too?”
Haruka asked cheerfully, her eyes lighting up with delight like a moth that had seen a beautiful flame.
"No. I just realized it's time to wrap this up. To be honest, your slaps have clarified something. In a couple of minutes, it will all be over."
Haruka's smile was contagious, and in a moment, an identical smirk appeared on Tsuna's face, mirroring his confidence in his own victory, despite countless cuts.
Tsuna made one last lunge forward, dodging the double strikes of razor-sharp blades. The fact that Haruka had turned her left hand back into a blade only proved how serious she was.
Finding a gap in her defense, Tsuna dove under the two blades and was ready to strike when suddenly, a spiked blade burst out of her left leg, where the pant leg had been torn, ready to turn his body into a sieve.
“Predictable!”
Kicking her leg aside with a gust of wind, Tsuna braced himself on his hands and, raising his legs as if in a sudden gust of wind, his kick caught her jaw. This time, it definitely knocked her out of her battle rhythm, considering that she lost consciousness for a moment.
Jumping back, Tsuna drew an arc on the ground with his foot before his left leg swung out, launching his sneaker at full speed into one of the rickety towers of scrap metal.
“I almost died from this once, so let's hope it works this time!”
The sneaker, flying at full speed, slightly touched the fragile support, causing the tower, as unstable as a house of cards, to fall freely onto the next one, creating a domino effect. All that remained was to push Haruka into the trap.
Taking a deep breath, which only opened his wounds wider, for which he cursed himself for the next ten minutes, Tsuna rushed forward at full speed toward Haruka, who had already regained consciousness.
“Is that so? Maybe you're good for something after all.”
She was ready to attack, her blades at the ready. But Tsuna got to her faster than she expected. He covered the seven-meter distance in two and a half steps, standing close to her.
“I'm sorry, but I'm all for gender equality!”
He jumped up, using one of his hands as a step to her face. His knee slammed into her face, deforming her facial bones. Her braid wrapped around his leg, ready to cut his tendons. But that was what he was counting on.
As a countermeasure to such strikes, one usually tries to grab the opponent's leg to perform a takedown. Or, in Haruka's case, to cut the enemy's leg to shreds, shifting the focus to a completely different action.
He dug his nails into her head and, leaning against her chest, kicked the unbalanced Haruka into the seat of an old car that stood directly under one of the towers of scrap metal, the last in the dominoes.
Iron death was already hanging over Haruka, and she couldn't even move, her body literally numb from the powerful blow to her head and solar plexus, as she tried relentlessly to take even the smallest breath.
A shadow loomed over her, and when she looked up, she saw only a huge mountain of iron that was about to become her grave. But for some unknown reason, she was not afraid. The only emotion she felt was disappointment.
Disappointment that the fun was over and she hadn't finished what she had started.
“I'm sorry, Suoh...”
A quiet whisper escaped her lips, and she closed her eyes, too weak to move. Suddenly, she felt a light breeze that grew stronger with each passing moment.
“Damn it, I didn't think ahead!”
Tsuna roared, running forward until he was standing right next to Haruka. With a swing of his leg, Tsuna created a stream of air that roared like a turbine. Sharp, unstoppable, like a raging hurricane, sweeping several tons of iron aside as if it weighed nothing.
The hurricane-force wind blew the debris aside, and all the muscles in Tsuna's body were paralyzed by the sharp, acute pain from overusing his ability, and now he was practically convulsing like a fish thrown ashore.
“Ouch, ouch, ouch! Shit, damn, it's my own fault for getting carried away and not thinking about the consequences, but still!”
Tsuna was ready to cry out in pain like a little girl. It was as if his whole body was seized by a severe cramp.
Meanwhile, Haruka, covered in dust but still alive, sat there. If someone had seen her from the outside, they would have said she looked like a chameleon, given her eyes bulging with surprise.
She couldn't help but wonder why he had saved her. What was in it for him? Did he want to strangle her himself? Or recruit her as a pawn?
“Why?”
The question slipped out of her mouth without her consent.
“Huh? What are you talking about? You may be my opponent, but you're not my mortal enemy.”
Tsuna said calmly. Or rather, as calmly as a man in pain, about to depart for the afterlife, could be.
"If I had let you die, I wouldn't have forgiven myself. That's all.
There are no lofty reasons."
As soon as the pain in his muscles subsided, he looked up at the girl, whose tanned cheeks were flushed bright red, and whose face had taken on a shy expression.
“Huh? What's wrong? Are you feeling sick?”
Snapping out of her trance, Haruka shook her head wildly, giving herself a few healthy slaps to help hide the redness in her cheeks.
“You're interested in this serum, aren't you? I could tell by the look in your eyes.”
“Is it that obvious?”
Tsuna asked cautiously, feeling like a boy who had been caught peeping.
“It was written all over your face. But, just this once, I'll tell you... as an exception.”
Although the last comment raised a lot of questions for Tsuna, he was happy. He almost made a fatal mistake, but he managed to save not only those two guys, but also the quirky girl who went from enemy to friend in record time.
And yet, today's events only showed him how easy it was to make a fatal mistake, even with good intentions.
“I'm nowhere near you, Mimi-san.”