The next morning, the third-floor recovery room in Seijirou's new building was quiet, smelling faintly of antiseptic and dust.
Shou woke up groggily, a dull, throbbing ache settling across his back and chest where he'd been kicked.
Immediately, the pain and the memory of yesterday's fight came crashing down.
He eyes, dull and in a daze, stared at the ceiling. The bandages wrapped around his torso were tight, a physical reminder of his failure.
Ayano.
That single name brought with it a wave of bitter self-loathing. Ayano had completely beaten him, Renji, and Sakai.
The three of them, supposedly Seijirou's most reliable fighters, couldn't even manage to take down a single opponent.
The moment he woke up and saw the faint signs of fresh medical attention, he immediately knew, with a painful certainty, that Seijirou must have come back and rescued them.
