The common room at Asphalt Academy was quieter now, the post-lunch rush fading into murmurs as students scattered to their respective corners. The air was heavy, not with the aroma of coffee or chatter, but with tension that lingered like a silent specter. Sterlin sat on a worn armchair, the leather creaking under his shifting weight. Across from him, Sora Fuzaro sat straight-backed, his expression unreadable, a stillness to him that felt unnaturally focused.
"You didn't answer me earlier." Sterlin began, his voice breaking the silence. "Why me? Why not someone who actually knows what they're doing?"
Sora's sharp eyes, reminiscent of a predator's, flicked up to meet Sterlin's. "Because you're not tainted by the weight of this place." His tone was calm, deliberate. "You're the type who does the right thing because it's the right thing—not because it's expected of you."
Sterlin scratched the back of his neck, feeling the weight of Sora's words settle heavily on his shoulders. "I mean… I'll help. But I don't even know where to start. Izanagi's probably halfway across the city by now."
"He's not." Sora replied curtly. "He's methodical, even when he's angry. He won't go far without a plan. He'll keep to places he knows, places where he can lie low."
"Like where?" Sterlin asked.
"Christian's old neighborhood," Sora said, his jaw tightening. "It's the only connection he has. He thinks finding Christian will somehow fix everything."
"Fix what exactly?" Sterlin leaned forward, genuinely curious now.
Sora exhaled slowly, as though gathering the right words. "His honor. His sense of purpose. His… everything." He leaned back, his gaze darkening. "It's my fault, really. Izanagi's like this because I wasn't there when it mattered."
Sterlin frowned. "What do you mean?"
Sora's hand balled into a fist against his knee, and for a moment, he stared out the window, his mind somewhere far away. "Izanagi wasn't always like this. We've been competing since we could walk—our fathers made sure of that. But it wasn't about winning for him; it was about proving he was worth something. I didn't see that back then. I thought our fights were just… fights. But to him, every loss chipped away at his confidence."
Sterlin shifted uncomfortably. "I don't get it. You're cousins. Shouldn't you have each other's backs?"
Sora's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "You'd think so. But our fathers had other plans. They've been rivals since they were kids, and they passed that rivalry down to us like a family heirloom. Every spar, every challenge, every victory—it was all just fuel for their feud."
"Must've been exhausting." Sterlin said softly.
"It was." Sora admitted. "But it wasn't just the sparring. It was the expectations. My father, Yui, raised me to honor the Fuzaro name, to treat every fight like a sacred test. Izanagi's father, Tai, was different. For him, it was all about dominance. Winning at all costs. And he pushed Izanagi harder than anyone should push a kid."
The memory of Izanagi's scar surfaced in Sterlin's mind, and he felt a chill crawl up his spine. "The scar… That was Tai, wasn't it?"
Sora nodded, his expression grim. "After Izanagi got expelled, Tai was furious. He forced him to spar with real swords, said it was to 'teach him a lesson.' Izanagi slipped, and Tai didn't hold back."
"That's… insane." Sterlin said, his voice rising slightly. "How could he do that to his own son?"
"Tai believes pain is a teacher." Sora said bitterly. "And in his twisted way, he thought he was helping. But all he did was break Izanagi more."
Sterlin sat back, running a hand through his hair. "So now Izanagi thinks finding Christian will fix everything? That it'll prove he's… what? A hero?"
"A worthy heir." Sora corrected. "Tai's been on him for years, drilling it into his head that he needs to surpass me to take over the dojo. But the truth is, Izanagi's never cared about the dojo. He just wants to prove he's not a failure."
Sterlin looked down at his hands, his mind racing. "What about you? Do you care about the dojo?"
Sora hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Not in the way they want me to. My father trained me to love the fight, to respect the art. And I do. But I'm not interested in carrying the weight of the Fuzaro legacy. That's not who I am."
"So why keep fighting?" Sterlin asked.
Sora looked up, his eyes sharp again. "Because Izanagi's out there, alone. And if I don't find him, who will?"
The room fell silent for a moment, the gravity of Sora's words sinking in.
"Alright." Sterlin said finally, his voice steady. "Let's do this. We'll start with Christian's neighborhood tomorrow after school."
Sora's expression softened, just slightly. "Thank you."