Aaron spotted it instantly.
From the driver's seat of his pickup, he leaned forward, elbows on the wheel, watching Sato and Adrian stand back-to-back against his crew. The grin that spread across his face wasn't nervous. It was hungry.
"Change of plans, Golden Boy," he called out, voice carrying over the courtyard. "I've seen all I needed to see. Now I'mma leave."
The engine rumbled to life.
Sato didn't even blink. He started walking toward the truck, deliberate, each step cutting through the space between them. He moved past his own guys like they weren't there, eyes locked on Aaron.
"You aren't going anywhere."
His voice was low. Serious. No room for argument.
Aaron barked a laugh, leaning out the window. "Yeah, I kinda am. Guys, get them!"
Tires squealed. The truck lurched forward.
Sato broke into a jog, but the remaining guys surged between him and the exit, shouting, swinging blind. Sato slicked his black hair back with one hand, exhaled through his nose, and dashed into the group.
"Get the hell out of my way."
Calm. Annoyed. Dangerous.
The words hit harder than the first punch. One guy went down puking, his body folding in half from a single blow to the gut. He collapsed to his knees and didn't get back up.
Fear flashed across the others' faces. But fear didn't make them run. It made them desperate.
With Aaron gone, the coordination fell apart. No more drilled formations, no more signals. Now it was just a mob - sloppy, frantic, unpredictable.
Unpredictable didn't mean dangerous to Sato.
The first swing came high. He ducked under it, caught the guy's wrist mid-motion, twisted until bone snapped with a wet crack, and drove him face-first into the concrete. The second guy lunged. Sato grabbed his face, palm covering nose and mouth, squeezed until he choked, then kneed him twice in the stomach. The third came in swinging wide. Sato stepped in, let the fist graze his shoulder, and smashed his knuckles into the guy's jaw.
He didn't stop.
Every movement was efficient, brutal, final. He wasn't playing. He made sure none of them would dream of getting up again.
In the chaos, someone circled wide. A brick rose high behind Sato's head.
It never landed.
Adrian exploded off the guy's shoulders, launched himself upward, and drove his heel down into the attacker's skull. The brick clattered to the ground, the man crumpling beneath it.
Sato glanced back for half a second.
Adrian was already moving, cleaning up his own side. Flashy, fast, precise - even injured, even exhausted. He was thinning the numbers with kicks that cracked ribs and sweeps that sent guys sprawling.
Now they stood back-to-back.
One injured, breathing hard, lollipop long gone.
One untouched, calm, like this was a warm-up.
Both dangerous.
Sato's takedowns were brutal - slams, throws, breaks. He didn't leave anyone conscious. Adrian's strikes were flashy and brutal in their own way, using momentum and angles to drop multiple guys at once.
They covered each other's backs without needing to speak.
Left side. Right side.
Front. Rear.
Every time someone tried to flank, the other was already there.
Slowly, methodically, they thinned the numbers. The courtyard went from twenty to fifteen to ten. The fight wasn't over. But it wasn't theirs anymore either.
Aaron's truck was already turning out of the lot, disappearing down the street.
Sato didn't look back at it.
Adrian didn't either.
They had work to finish here.
---
The park had turned into a warzone of rubber and laughter.
Mark had lost count of how many times the dodgeball hit him. Every throw from Eva came faster, trickier, meaner than the last. It started out comedic - ball to the shin, ball to the back, ball bouncing off his forehead while he flailed like a man swatting a bee.
But his eyes stayed open now.
He wasn't catching or dodging yet, not consistently. But he could see the wind-up. He could track the arc. His body was starting to read the movement even if his legs weren't fast enough to keep up. Progress felt like getting hit slightly less stupidly.
"Alright, that's enough for today."
Austin's voice cut through the rhythm, calm as always. He adjusted his glasses, smiling faintly as he let the ball rest against his hip.
"How long have we been playing for?" Mark asked, bent over with his hands on his knees, breathing hard. Sweat dripped off his chin onto the dirt.
As Austin reached for his watch, Eva looped her arms around him from behind, hugging him over the shoulders.
"A little over two hours," she said, voice bubbly, chin resting on his head.
Austin sighed, but didn't pull away. He was too tired to argue. "Two hours and seven minutes, actually."
Mark straightened up, wiping sweat from his brow. "Two hours! Sorry guys, I've got to go."
He didn't wait for a reply. He jogged out of the park, waving them off over his shoulder, already scanning the street for a cab.
"See you at school, Mark!" Austin called after him.
The taxi pulled away seconds later, leaving Eva still hanging off Austin like a koala.
---
The ride back to East Brook felt longer than it should have.
By the time Mark stepped out onto his street, the air had changed. Bass thumped faintly in the distance, growing louder with every step. Laughter, shouting, the clink of bottles.
Music was coming from his house.
Mark's jaw tightened. The easy exhaustion from training vanished, replaced by something colder.
_Mary._
He broke into a run.
The scene that greeted him was something out of a movie he'd never wanted to see in real life. His house was packed. People spilled out onto the lawn, music blaring from speakers propped on the porch. Strangers in hoodies, crop tops, snapbacks. Someone was dancing on the railing.
He pushed through the crowd, cutting a path toward the living room. His eyes locked onto Mary in the center of it all, surrounded by guys and girls laughing too loud. The only face he recognized was Alicia, her friend from that morning.
He was about to call out when a guy stepped in front of him, grin cocky, chest puffed out.
"Do we have a problem, bro?"
Mark stopped. His voice dropped. "We will if you don't get out of my way."
The guy leaned in, eyes narrowing. "What, you wanna do something, tough guy?"
Mark's hand drifted toward his hoodie pocket, fingers brushing the shape of the taser. His breathing slowed. Focus narrowed.
Before he could move, a voice cut through the noise.
"Hey, stop it Josh. That's Mary's brother."
Alicia stepped between them, calm but firm. She turned to Mark, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I'm sorry about him. He's a blockhead."
Mark exhaled, tension bleeding out of his shoulders. He pulled his hand away from the hoodie.
"Thanks," he said. "Can you take me to my sister?"
Alicia nodded immediately, leading him through the crowd. As they moved, she stole glances at him, but Mark didn't notice. His eyes were fixed ahead.
He found Mary near the kitchen, laughing with two other girls. He didn't hesitate. He pulled her to the side by the arm, firm but not rough.
"HEY, WHAT ARE YOU—" she started, then stopped when she saw who it was.
"I should be asking you that," Mark said. His voice was calm, but the edge was there. "This was supposed to be you hanging out with your girlfriends. Not a full-blown party."
Mary's nervous smile flickered. "Well… one thing led to another and it became this."
"I'm shutting this down," Mark said flatly.
"Wait, don't do that!" She grabbed his arm, holding on tight.
"Why not?"
Mary took a breath, looking up at him for real this time.
"Ever since we got here, I've been on high alert. Always worried for my safety, always thinking I might get hurt walking the streets. It's the reason I threw this party. To get my mind off things." She hesitated. "And… by the looks of things, you should too."
Mark went quiet.
She was right. He'd felt the same way every day since Brookhaven. The constant tension, the way his eyes never stopped scanning. He hadn't let himself breathe in a week.
He let out a short breath, the anger draining out. "Fine," he said. "But you and your friends clean up the mess."
Mary's face lit up. She threw her arms around him, squeezing tight.
"Thanks, big bro."
He hugged her back, brief and awkward, then let her go. She was already turning back to her friends, laughing again.
Mark stood there for a second, watching the chaos. It was loud, messy, probably illegal. But for the first time since they moved here, Mary didn't look scared.
He stepped back into the crowd, letting the noise swallow him for a while.
---