*Chapter 31: Good Night*

Snow covered the land as far as the eye could see.

A small wooden house stood alone in the frozen wilderness, its roof buried beneath a thick layer of white. Far beyond it, a dense forest stretched across the horizon, its branches weighed down by snow. The wind moved quietly through the trees, carrying fine flakes through the air.

A little girl walked through the snow, carrying an armful of firewood against her chest. Her small footprints trailed behind her, slowly disappearing beneath the falling snow.

She stopped.

At the edge of the distant forest, something stood between the trees.

A large white figure.

The girl stared at it. It didn’t move. Neither did she. For a moment, the entire forest seemed to fall silent. Then the figure slowly disappeared behind the trees. The girl remained there for a few seconds before turning back toward the little house.

The snow continued to fall.

A century later…

Blade’s fist cut through the air.

Shiro tilted his head slightly, letting the punch pass within inches of his face. Blade immediately followed with another strike, then another. A kick came next, followed by an elbow and another straight punch.

Shiro deflected every attack. He barely moved.

Blade’s breathing grew heavier as he increased the speed of his attacks, but Shiro remained calm, his expression unreadable. He hadn’t thrown a single attack of his own.

Black…

Blade’s fist was redirected.

If it’s black… fight back.

He swung again. Shiro stepped aside.

Brown…

Blade changed his angle and drove a kick toward him. Shiro blocked it with one hand.

If it’s brown… lay down.

Blade gritted his teeth and pushed forward again.

Faster… harder…

Still nothing.

The old saying surfaced somewhere in the back of his mind, something he’d heard long ago.

But if it’s white…

Blade lunged forward and threw another punch. Shiro caught his wrist, just like that. Blade froze, while Shiro’s eyes remained calm behind his glasses.

…then good night.

Shiro looked at Blade for a moment before calmly glancing at his wristwatch.

“Looks like time isn’t on our side today,” he said. “I guess playtime is over.”

Blade’s eyes narrowed behind his mask. He tried to pull his fist free. But nothing. He twisted his wrist. Still nothing.

“Tch…”

Blade suddenly shifted his weight and swung his free hand toward Shiro.

Shiro released his wrist.

Blade’s fist immediately changed direction, aiming straight for Shiro’s jaw.

Shiro leaned back just enough to let it pass.

Blade followed with a kick.

Shiro blocked.

Blade spun and attacked again.

This time, Shiro moved forward.

Their fists collided.

THUD!

Blade’s eyes widened.

Shiro’s punch came next.

Blade barely blocked it.

Another.

He parried.

Another.

He ducked.

For the first time, Shiro began attacking.

There was no wasted movement. Every strike was clean. Precise. Almost effortless. Blade answered with everything he had.

A punch.

A block.

A knee.

A counter.

A kick.

A dodge.

Their movements blurred across the corridor as fists and feet crashed against one another. Blade attacked from every angle he could find, but Shiro seemed to already know where each strike was going.

Blade threw a hook.

Shiro slipped under it.

Blade immediately followed with an elbow.

Shiro caught his arm.

Blade twisted free and drove his knee upward.

Shiro stepped aside.

Blade spun and kicked again.

Shiro blocked with his forearm.

THUD!

The impact echoed through the corridor.

Blade landed and immediately attacked again. But something had changed. He could feel it. He was starting to fall behind. He’s getting faster… Blade’s breathing grew heavier.

No.

He gritted his teeth.

I’m getting slower.

He forced himself forward and threw a combination, deliberately leaving an opening in his movements.

A feint.

A trap.

Shiro saw through it immediately.

He deflected Blade’s final strike, knocking his arm completely off course.

Blade’s body opened up.

Shiro stepped forward.

His leg rose higher… Until it was almost perfectly vertical. Then—

BAM!

Shiro brought his heel straight down like a hammer. Blade barely managed to move his head aside. The heel grazed him and slammed into the floor beside his face.

CRACK!

The concrete beneath them fractured from the impact.

Blade rolled away and sprang back to his feet, landing several feet away. He was breathing heavily. Sweat ran down the side of his face.

Shiro calmly lowered his leg. Not even breathing hard.

Blade stared at him.

Shiro adjusted his glasses.

“Such nice reflexes you have,” he said calmly. “I wonder where you learned those…”

He glanced at Blade’s stance.

”…Your movements are chaotic and rushed… yet they’re not bad at all.”

Blade’s breathing became heavier.

What the hell even is he…?

He hadn’t even made Shiro break a sweat.

Blade wiped the sweat from his chin.

”…I guess I have no choice, then.”

He straightened himself. Then he reached for the zipper of his leather jacket.

Zzzzip.

He slowly pulled it down. Shiro watched him silently. Blade opened his jacket.

For a moment, Shiro’s eyes rested on the inside of it. Rows of razor blades were stacked neatly across both sides of the jacket.

Row after row.

Dozens of them.

Blade looked at Shiro.

A smirk formed beneath his mask.

“Where I learned from, huh…?”

His fingers slid across the hidden blades.

”…That’s a story for another time.”

Then—

SHING!

Blade ripped the first row free.

The razor blades flew toward Shiro.

Fast.

Too fast for an ordinary person to even follow.

Shiro moved.

CLINK!

One blade was deflected.

Another came.

CLINK!

Then another.

CLINK! CLINK! CLINK!

Blade didn’t stop.

He ripped blade after blade from his jacket and hurled them forward with brutal speed and frightening precision.

The corridor filled with the sharp metallic sound of steel cutting through the air.

Shiro moved between them. A slight turn of his head. A shift of his shoulder. A flick of his wrist.

Every razor blade missed. Some struck the walls. Some hit the floor. Others were knocked aside by Shiro’s hands before they could reach him.

Blade kept throwing. Again and again. His hands moved almost too quickly to see. But Shiro never stopped. Never panicked. Never even took a step backward.

Then Blade reached for another blade. But his fingers found nothing. He looked down. The rows were empty. Every razor blade was gone. The last one clattered against the floor.

Silence.

Blade stood there, his jacket hanging open. Shiro stood several meters away, completely untouched.

He calmly adjusted his glasses.

Blade stared at him.

”…You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”