The last bag zipped shut.
Muscles sore. Sweat wiped. Knees cracked from one last stretch. Shoelaces pulled tight once more.
And then, Horizon and Toyonaka—united for just a moment longer—stepped out of the Yoyogi gym into the sharp Tokyo afternoon.
The air bit cold against their flushed skin. The sky above was grayed by thick clouds, sunlight dulled, casting long shadows that stretched along the pavement like echoes of war.
But they weren't alone.
Six figures stood at the edge of the gym's exit.
Tall. Still. Watching.
Their matching dark blue warm-ups shimmered faintly under the light. On each chest: a white insignia stitched with precision—
A wolf howling beneath northern stars.
Sapporo North Wolves.
Blocking the path. Not moving. Not speaking.
Intentional.
The atmosphere snapped like a pulled string.
"What's this?" Taiga muttered, stepping slightly forward. His tone light—but his shoulders coiled.
Then, one of the Wolves stepped forward.
