Akira slowly opened his eyes.
7:00 AM.
The soft morning light slipped through the curtains of his room while silence filled the dorm.
For a few seconds, he simply stared at the ceiling.
Still tired.
Not physically.
Mentally.
The fireworks festival from yesterday still lingered inside his head.
Hanoka’s smile.
Her warmth.
Their kiss.
And strangely enough…
for the first time in months…
his chest didn’t feel unbearably heavy anymore.
Akira exhaled quietly and sat up on the edge of the bed.
“…I’m skipping school today.”
His voice sounded calm.
Almost lazy.
After everything that had happened these past months, one peaceful day away from school didn’t sound bad.
He ran a hand through his messy hair before standing up slowly.
The dorm was unusually quiet.
Hanoka was probably already awake and studying again like always.
Akira walked out of his room and toward hers.
Then— knock knock.
No response.
He opened the door slowly.
The evening-like morning sunlight spilled gently through the curtains, painting the room orange.
Books, notes, and school papers were spread across the desk messily.
Hanoka was there.
Asleep.
Her head rested against her folded arms on the desk.
Akira blinked once.
“…She actually studied herself to sleep.”
He walked inside quietly, careful not to wake her.
For a moment, he just stared.
Her breathing was soft.
Peaceful.
A small smile unconsciously appeared on his face.
Then his eyes shifted.
Something was sticking out beneath one of the notebooks near her hand.
A photograph.
Akira reached toward it slowly and pulled it free.
And froze.
His eyes widened slightly.
It was old.
Slightly faded.
Two children stood together in the picture beneath summer sunlight.
A little girl smiling brightly at the camera.
And beside her—
“…Me?”
The words barely escaped his lips.
He stared harder at the picture.
The little boy in the photo had messy dark hair.
A familiar blank expression.
And beside him, the little girl held onto his sleeve happily.
His breathing slowed.
Then—
Flash.
A memory.
A small girl running beside him.
“Akira-kun!
Wait!!”
Flash.
A laugh.
Warm summer wind.
Flash.
A little girl handing him a juice box.
“You always look lonely.”
Akira’s eyes widened further.
His heartbeat started rising.
No way.
Another flash hit him.
A smile.
That smile.
The exact same smile.
He slowly turned toward Hanoka sleeping peacefully at the desk.
The pieces began connecting violently inside his head.
The way she talked to him.
The way she chased him from the beginning.
The way she understood him too easily.
The way she never feared him.
His lips parted slightly.
“…Hanoka.”
Another memory surfaced.
Rain.
A younger voice.
“Even if we grow up… I’ll still find you again.”
Akira’s hand trembled slightly while holding the photo.
His chest tightened.
He looked back down at the picture again.
Then at Hanoka.
Then back at the picture.
And finally— he understood.
“The girl I loved…”
Silence.
The sunlight moved softly across the room.
Akira slowly walked closer to her sleeping figure.
Carefully.
Quietly.
Like he was afraid this realization would disappear if he moved too fast.
He knelt beside the desk.
His eyes never leaving her face.
Then softly— almost unbelievably—
Akira whispered:
“…You can’t hide it any longer.”
Hanoka’s eyelashes twitched slightly.
Then slowly— her eyes opened.
For a second, she looked confused.
Sleepy.
Then she noticed how close Akira was.
And the photograph in his hand.
Her expression froze instantly.
Silence.
A dangerous kind of silence.
Akira slowly raised the photo.
His voice was quiet.
Too quiet.
But that made it worse.
Akira: “What is this?”
Hanoka immediately sat upright in panic.
Her eyes widened.
“…Akira, I—”
Akira: “Answer me.”
The sharpness in his voice made her flinch slightly.
That alone hurt him.
Because he rarely ever spoke to her like that.
Hanoka looked down at the photo in his hand.
Then quietly closed her eyes for a moment.
Like she already knew this day would come eventually.
Hanoka: “…You remembered.”
Akira stood up slowly.
His expression looked calm.
But his eyes weren’t.
There was confusion there.
Pain.
Frustration.
Everything mixed together.
Akira: “Why didn’t you tell me?”
No response.
Hanoka lowered her gaze slightly.
Akira stepped closer.
Akira: “Why?”
His voice cracked slightly near the end.
That hurt Hanoka more than shouting would have.
She clenched her hands tightly.
Then finally— she spoke.
Hanoka: “Because I was scared.”
Akira froze slightly.
Hanoka looked up at him now.
Tears were already forming slowly in her eyes.
Hanoka: “The first day you met me again… you were cold.”
Silence.
Hanoka: “Cold enough to make me think you hated me.”
Akira’s expression shifted slightly.
Hanoka continued.
Her voice trembling more now.
Hanoka: “I thought… if I told you the truth immediately… if I told you I was your childhood friend…”
A pause.
Hanoka: “…the girl you used to compete with…”
She laughed weakly through her tears.
Hanoka: “You’d push me away.”
Akira’s grip on the photo tightened slightly.
His chest hurt.
Because deep down— he knew she wasn’t wrong.
Back then, he would have pushed her away.
Hanoka stood up slowly from the chair.
Facing him directly now.
Hanoka: “You barely even tolerated me at first.”
Akira: “That doesn’t mean you should’ve hidden something this important!”
His voice rose slightly for the first time.
Hanoka flinched again.
Hanoka: “What was I supposed to do?!”
Now her voice rose too.
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
Hanoka: “You changed, Akira!”
The room fell silent again.
Heavy.
Painful.
Hanoka’s breathing shook slightly.
Hanoka: “Back then… you smiled more.”
Akira’s eyes widened slightly.
Hanoka continued anyway.
Hanoka: “You talked more.
You laughed when we competed.
You got angry over stupid little games.”
Her voice softened painfully.
Hanoka: “But when I met you again…”
A pause.
Hanoka: “…you looked lonely.”
Akira looked away.
Hanoka wiped her tears roughly.
Hanoka: “I didn’t want to lose you again.”
Silence.
Neither of them moved.
The sunlight in the room slowly dimmed as evening approached.
And somehow— that made everything feel colder.
Hours passed.
Neither of them properly spoke again after that.
The dorm became painfully quiet.
The dorm that once felt warm after the festival now felt painfully cold.
Akira remained downstairs in the living room, sitting silently on the couch with one arm resting over his eyes.
The photograph still sat on the table nearby.
Every time he looked at it, another memory surfaced.
A small girl laughing beside him.
“Akira-kun!
Hurry up!”
Summer sunlight.
Childish competitions.
Tiny arguments.
And that same smile.
Hanoka’s smile.
Akira exhaled shakily.
His chest hurt.
Not because she lied.
But because he finally understood why she hid it.
“…I was terrible to her.”
His voice barely came out above a whisper.
Upstairs—
Hanoka quietly packed a small bag.
Tears kept falling no matter how many times she wiped them away.
She hated this feeling.
The feeling that everything between them had broken.
Her chest tightened painfully remembering Akira’s expression earlier.
That look in his eyes.
Confused.
Hurt.
Disappointed.
Hanoka bit her lip slightly.
“…He probably hates me now.”
The thought alone shattered her.
She looked around the room one last time before quietly leaving.
The dorm door closed softly behind her.
Akira never heard it.
Rain had started falling outside by the time Hanoka reached the street.
She stopped beneath a streetlight and shakily pulled out her phone.
A few moments later— her friend answered.
And that night—
Hanoka stayed at her friend’s house.
Meanwhile…
back at the dorm—
Akira finally stood up hours later.
The silence felt strange.
Too strange.
He glanced upstairs.
“…Hanoka?”
No response.
He walked toward her room slowly.
Then opened the door.
Empty.
Akira froze.
His eyes immediately noticed missing things.
Bag gone.
Phone charger gone.
Her shoes gone.
Silence filled the room.
A horrible feeling settled in his chest.
He slowly looked down.
Then noticed a small folded note on the desk.
His hand trembled slightly while picking it up.
“Sorry.”
That was all it said.
Akira stared at the paper for a long time.
Then slowly sat down on her bed.
“…Idiot.”
But his voice carried no anger.
Only sadness.
He lowered his head into his hands.
Part of him wanted to call her immediately.
To apologize.
To explain.
But another voice inside him stopped him.
“She probably doesn’t want to hear your voice right now.”
Akira closed his eyes tightly.
Because after the way he spoke earlier— maybe she really did hate him now.
Meanwhile— inside another house across the city—
Hanoka sat quietly near the window of her friend’s room while rain rolled down the glass outside.
Her phone rested beside her.
The screen stayed dark.
No messages.
No calls.
Her chest hurt more with every passing minute.
“…He really hates me.”
The thought kept repeating inside her head endlessly.
Hanoka lowered her face into her arms quietly.
And for the first time in months— both of them fell asleep separately.
The next morning arrived quietly.
For the first time in months, Akira woke up to complete silence.
No footsteps upstairs.
No sound of Hanoka moving around her room.
No voice calling his name.
Nothing.
He stared at the ceiling for several seconds before finally sitting up.
The empty feeling returned immediately.
Akira rubbed his eyes and reached for his phone.
Still nothing.
No messages.
No calls.
No notifications.
His thumb hovered over Hanoka’s contact.
One press.
That was all it would take.
Yet he couldn’t do it.
“What would I even say?”
Sorry?
Would that be enough?
He slowly lowered the phone.
Meanwhile, Hanoka sat at the dining table inside her friend’s apartment.
Her friend had already left for school.
The room felt strangely unfamiliar.
A cup of tea rested in front of her.
Cold.
Untouched.
Hanoka looked down at her phone again.
Still nothing.
A small laugh escaped her lips.
Not a happy one.
A sad one.
“Of course…”
Why would he call?
After all, she had hidden the truth from him.
The truth she had promised herself she would reveal one day.
The truth she was too afraid to reveal.
Hanoka closed her eyes.
A memory surfaced.
A younger Akira.
A younger Hanoka.
Running through a park.
Laughing.
Competing over everything.
“Last one to the tree loses!”
“Hey!
That’s cheating, Akira-kun!”
Back then, everything had been simple.
Back then, neither of them knew what heartbreak felt like.
Hanoka opened her eyes.
Tears threatened to form again.
“…I miss those days.”
Across the city, Akira whispered the exact same words.
“…I miss those days.”
Neither of them knew.
Neither of them could hear the other.
But for the first time since the argument— both of them were thinking about the same thing.
Not the fight.
Not the lies.
Not the misunderstanding.
The memories.
Hours passed slowly.
Hanoka sat quietly at the coffee table, barely noticing the cup of tea resting in front of her.
The tea had long gone cold.
Her phone remained in her hands.
No messages.
No calls.
Nothing.
The silence felt heavier with every passing minute.
Then—
The front door opened.
Rin Minato stepped inside carrying her school bag.
She kicked off her shoes, placed her bag near the couch, and immediately noticed Hanoka’s expression.
Rin frowned.
Something was clearly wrong.
She walked over and sat beside her.
Rin: “Hanoka…
what’s wrong?”
No response.
Rin: “Last night you showed up out of nowhere.
Did something happen?”
Hanoka lowered her eyes.
Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
Hanoka: “Rin…
promise me you won’t tell anyone.”
Rin raised an eyebrow.
Rin: “Okay.
I promise.”
She leaned forward dramatically.
Rin: “Now come on.
Spill the tea.”
Hanoka hesitated.
Then finally spoke.
Hanoka: “…I have a boyfriend.”
Silence.
For exactly one second.
Then—
Rin: “YOU HAVE A WHAT?!”
Hanoka jumped slightly.
Rin: “And you didn’t tell me?!
Your best friend?!”
She grabbed Hanoka’s shoulders.
Rin: “Who is he?
Where does he live?
Is he handsome?
What happened?
Why are you crying?!”
Hanoka sighed.
Hanoka: “Please let me finish.”
Rin immediately sat back down.
Rin: “…Continue.”
Hanoka: “He’s my childhood friend.”
Rin blinked.
Then grinned.
Rin: “Oho.”
Rin: “This sounds like a romcom already.”
Hanoka rolled her eyes.
Hanoka: “Whatever you think.”
She lowered her gaze.
Hanoka: “I hid something from him.”
Rin: “What?”
Hanoka: “The fact that we knew each other as children.”
Rin stared at her.
Rin: “…Why?”
Hanoka looked down at her hands.
Hanoka: “When I met him again…
he was cold.”
The memory hurt.
Hanoka: “I thought he didn’t remember me.”
A pause.
Hanoka: “And I thought…
if I told him the truth…
he would hate me.”
Rin immediately shook her head.
Rin: “That’s ridiculous.”
Hanoka looked up.
Rin: “Look at yourself.”
Rin pointed directly at her.
Rin: “You’re completely different now.”
Rin: “You’re prettier.”
Rin: “More mature.”
Rin: “You’ve changed so much that even I barely resemble the girl I was years ago.”
She crossed her arms.
Rin: “Of course he didn’t recognize you.”
Hanoka remained silent.
Then Rin suddenly narrowed her eyes.
Rin: “Wait.”
Rin: “You still haven’t told me who he is.”
Hanoka froze.
Rin: “Name.”
A long pause followed.
Then:
Hanoka: “…Akira Tamayama.”
Rin blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then her eyes widened.
Rin: “…Wait.”
Silence.
Rin: “…Akira Tamayama?”
Hanoka: “…Yes.”
Another pause.
Then—
Rin: “THE ISAMU SAWADA?!”
Hanoka: “…Yes.”
Rin: “HANOKA WHAT?!”
Hanoka buried her face in her hands.
Rin stood up dramatically.
Rin: “You’re telling me your boyfriend is a famous actor AND your childhood friend?!”
Hanoka: “Can you stop screaming?”
Rin: “NO.”
A small laugh escaped Hanoka despite everything.
But it quickly faded.
Her expression darkened again.
Hanoka: “Yesterday morning I woke up and saw him holding an old photograph.”
The smile disappeared from Rin’s face.
Hanoka: “He remembered everything.”
A pause.
Hanoka: “And he got angry.”
Her fingers tightened slightly.
Hanoka: “He didn’t hurt me.”
Hanoka: “But…
I was scared.”
Tears slowly formed in her eyes.
Hanoka: “So I packed my things and left.”
Her voice cracked.
Hanoka: “I think he hates me now.”
The tears finally fell.
Hanoka: “What have I done…?”
Rin’s expression softened immediately.
She moved closer and gently wrapped an arm around Hanoka’s shoulders.
Rin: “Hey.”
Hanoka looked up.
Rin: “Anyone would be upset.”
Rin: “You hid something important.”
A pause.
Rin: “But that doesn’t mean he hates you.”
Hanoka remained silent.
Rin: “And the fact that he didn’t hurt you?
That’s a good thing.”
Her voice became serious.
Rin: “Because if he had…”
She cracked her knuckles.
Rin: “We’d be having a very different conversation.”
That earned the smallest smile from Hanoka.
Slowly, Hanoka stretched out across the couch and rested her head on Rin’s lap.
Neither of them spoke after that.
Silence filled the room.
Comfortable.
Warm.
Outside, rain continued tapping softly against the window.
Meanwhile—
Across the city—
Akira sat alone on the windowsill.
The childhood photograph rested in one hand.
His phone rested in the other.
The city lights stretched endlessly beyond the glass.
He stared at the photograph.
Then lowered his head.
Akira: “…What have I done?”
His voice was barely audible.
A horrible realization struck him.
He didn’t know where Hanoka was.
He didn’t know if she was safe.
He didn’t know if she was crying.
He didn’t know anything.
Akira stood up instantly.
The photograph nearly slipped from his hand.
Without another thought, he rushed downstairs.
The front door slammed open.
Cold evening air greeted him immediately.
Outside—
His black S13 sat parked beneath the streetlights.
Silent.
Motionless.
Almost as if it were watching.
The orange glow reflected softly across the hood.
But Akira didn’t even glance at it.
He started running.
Street after street.
Corner after corner.
Searching.
Looking.
Calling out her name.
Akira: “Hanoka!”
No answer.
Akira: “Hanoka!”
Only silence.
His breathing became heavier.
Still he continued running.
Then—
He spotted a small convenience store.
An elderly shopkeeper stood outside.
Akira rushed over immediately.
Akira: “Sir!”
The old man looked up.
Shopkeeper: “Hm?”
Akira: “Did you see a girl carrying a suitcase yesterday?”
The shopkeeper shrugged.
Shopkeeper: “Boy, do I look like I know every person that walks by?”
Akira froze.
Then his eyes narrowed slightly.
Akira: “Sir.”
The old man blinked.
Akira: “Your shift starts at eleven in the morning.”
The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow.
Akira: “And ends at midnight.”
A pause.
Akira: “Right now it’s almost eight.”
Another pause.
Akira: “You’ve been standing here all day.”
The shopkeeper slowly crossed his arms.
Akira stepped forward.
For the first time all day.
Akira: “Please.”
Akira: “Tell me.”
Akira: “I beg you.”
His fists tightened.
Akira: “She’s my girlfriend.”
The old man’s expression changed.
For the first time— he looked serious.
Then he sighed.
Shopkeeper: “…Alright.”
Shopkeeper: “You got me there.”
The shopkeeper sighed.
Then scratched the back of his head.
Shopkeeper: “Now that you mention it…”
Akira immediately stepped closer.
Akira: “You remember something?”
Shopkeeper: “I think I saw a girl yesterday.”
Akira’s heart skipped a beat.
Shopkeeper: “White suitcase.”
A pause.
Shopkeeper: “Hair looked a little messy.
Kind of tangled.”
Akira’s eyes widened instantly.
Akira: “YES!”
The old man flinched slightly.
Akira: “That’s her!”
His breathing became faster.
Akira: “I remember that suitcase!
She brought it when she first moved into my house!”
The words spilled out before he could stop them.
Akira: “And her hair—black with a slight purple tint—that’s definitely her!”
For the first time since Hanoka left— hope appeared in his eyes.
Akira: “Sir!”
He grabbed the counter.
Akira: “Which way did she go?!”
The shopkeeper pointed down the street.
Toward the eastern side of the city.
Shopkeeper: “That direction.”
Akira immediately turned.
But the old man wasn’t finished.
Shopkeeper: “Wait.”
Akira stopped.
Shopkeeper: “She wasn’t alone.”
Akira froze.
The atmosphere suddenly changed.
Slowly— he turned back.
Akira: “…What?”
The shopkeeper shrugged.
Shopkeeper: “A girl picked her up.”
A pause.
Shopkeeper: “Around the same age.”
Akira stared.
Then finally exhaled.
Not a boyfriend.
Not danger.
Just a friend.
Relief washed over him so hard his knees almost gave out.
Shopkeeper: “They looked close.”
Shopkeeper: “The other girl kept trying to cheer her up.”
Akira lowered his head.
Hanoka had been crying.
Just imagining it made his chest hurt.
The shopkeeper noticed the guilt written all over his face.
Shopkeeper: “You had a fight?”
Silence.
Akira looked away.
Akira: “…Yeah.”
Shopkeeper: “Pretty bad?”
Akira clenched the photograph inside his pocket.
Akira: “…The worst one we’ve ever had.”
The old man remained silent for a moment.
Then laughed softly.
Shopkeeper: “Then stop standing here.”
Akira blinked.
Shopkeeper: “If she’s important enough for you to run around the city looking like a lost puppy…”
The old man pointed down the road again.
Shopkeeper: “Go apologize.”
Akira stared at the road.
Streetlights stretched endlessly into the distance.
Somewhere out there—
Hanoka was waiting.
Maybe crying.
Maybe angry.
Maybe refusing to see him.
But one thing was certain.
Running away from the problem wasn’t going to fix it.
For the first time all day—
Akira knew exactly what he had to do.
He bowed deeply.
Akira: “Thank you.”
Then he turned and ran.
Faster than before.
Determination replacing panic.
Behind him— his black S13 remained parked beneath the streetlights.
Silent.
Watching.
Almost as if it knew— the most important race of Akira’s life had just begun.
Akira didn’t waste another second.
The moment he left the shopkeeper behind, he broke into a sprint.
Streetlights blurred past him.
Cold evening air burned against his lungs.
His mind repeated only one thought.
Find Hanoka.
Find Hanoka.
Find Hanoka.
A few minutes later—
The front door of the dorm burst open.
Akira rushed inside.
His shoes nearly slipped against the floor.
He grabbed his phone from the kitchen counter and immediately started making calls.
One after another.
Names from his agency.
Assistants.
Managers.
People he trusted.
People who had helped him throughout his acting career.
Within thirty minutes, several staff members had arrived at the house.
The living room felt unusually crowded.
Everyone could tell something serious had happened.
Akira stood in front of them.
For once— the famous actor Isamu Sawada wasn’t standing there.
Just Akira.
A worried boyfriend.
His hands trembled slightly.
Akira: “Guys…”
The room went silent.
Akira: “I’ll pay any amount you want.”
Several staff members exchanged glances.
Akira: “I don’t care how much it costs.”
His voice cracked slightly.
Akira: “Just help me find my girlfriend.”
The atmosphere immediately changed.
This wasn’t business.
This wasn’t filming.
This was personal.
A man standing near the center of the group stepped forward.
One of the most trusted members of Akira’s staff.
Otto: “Mr.
Akira.”
Akira looked up.
Otto: “Give us the details.”
He pulled out a notebook.
Otto: “We’ll get started immediately.”
Akira nodded.
Then began listing everything he knew.
Akira: “Female.”
Otto: “Thanks for clarifying that you are straight”
Akira: “Do you ever stop talking”
Otto: “My bad”
Then Akira continued speaking
Akira: “Black hair.”
A pause.
Akira: “Slight purple tint under certain lighting.”
Pens immediately started moving.
Akira: “White suitcase.”
More notes.
Akira: “According to a witness, she was picked up by another girl.”
Otto nodded.
Akira: “The vehicle was a blue sedan.”
He thought for a moment.
Remembering the old man’s description.
Akira: “Something similar to a 1990 Toyota Camry.”
More writing.
The room became completely focused.
Akira clenched his fists.
Akira: “That’s all I have.”
Silence followed.
Then Otto closed the notebook.
Otto: “Understood.”
He looked toward the others.
Otto: “Let’s get moving.”
Several staff members immediately stood up.
Phones were already being pulled out.
Calls were being made.
Connections were being activated.
For the first time all evening—
Akira felt a tiny bit of hope.
Then he grabbed his jacket.
Otto noticed.
Otto: “Mr.
Akira?”
Akira headed toward the door.
Otto: “Where are you going?”
Akira: “To look for her.”
Otto blinked.
Otto: “Why?”
Before he could continue—
Akira: “Otto.”
Otto froze.
Akira: “Shut it.”
The room became silent.
A few staff members looked away to hide their smiles.
Otto raised both hands.
Otto: “Okay.”
A pause.
Otto: “My bad.”
Akira opened the door.
Cold night air entered the house.
His expression hardened.
Akira: “I wasted enough time already.”
Then he stepped outside.
The door closed behind him.
And for the first time since Hanoka disappeared—
Akira felt like he was finally moving toward her instead of away from her.
Minutes turned into hours.
The city lights stretched endlessly beyond Akira’s windshield.
Calls continued coming from his staff.
Most led nowhere.
Some turned out to be false leads.
Yet Akira refused to stop.
Then—
His phone rang.
The screen displayed Otto’s name.
Akira answered immediately.
Akira: “Otto?”
Otto: “Mr.
Akira.”
His voice sounded unusually serious.
Akira’s grip tightened around the steering wheel.
Akira: “Did you find her?”
A brief silence followed.
Then—
Otto: “Possibly.”
Akira’s heart skipped a beat.
Akira: “Where?”
Papers shuffled on the other side of the call.
Otto: “A girl matching the description was seen entering an apartment complex in the eastern district.”
Akira immediately sat upright.
Otto: “White suitcase.”
A pause.
Otto: “Black hair with a slight purple tint.”
Another pause.
Otto: “Accompanied by another girl.”
Akira didn’t wait for another word.
The engine roared to life.
His S13 surged forward.
Streetlights blurred past.
The city became a sea of lights and shadows.
For the first time since Hanoka disappeared— hope outweighed fear.
Several hours later—
The apartment complex came into view.
Akira slowly stepped out of the car.
The night air felt cold.
Silent.
The building towered above him.
Hundreds of windows.
Hundreds of lights.
Somewhere inside—
Hanoka was there.
Maybe sleeping.
Maybe crying.
Maybe thinking he hated her.
Akira slowly looked up at the apartment building.
The photograph remained clenutched inside his jacket pocket.
The same photograph that had changed everything.
His breathing became unsteady.
Not because he had been running.
Not because he was tired.
Because after all this time— he had finally found her.
The wind gently rustled through the trees.
The lights of the city shimmered in the distance.
Akira took a single step forward.
Then another.
Then stopped.
For a moment— fear gripped him.
What if she refused to see him?
What if she really hated him?
What if he was already too late?
Akira lowered his head.
Then clenched his fists.
No.
Running away had already caused enough damage.
Slowly— he walked toward the entrance.
Already at 10 chapters!
Time really flies when you’re caught up in the story.