Yumi leaned against the table, fingers tapping lightly against the wood.

  Her mind drifted—not just through her own battles, but through him.

  The st few months.

  The fights.

  The scars.

  The struggles.

  And Watari.

  Always, Watari.

  She thought of him when they first fought together, when they infiltrated the Musabori, when she watched his first fight against Yasuke.

  She thought of his stupid grin, his reckless loyalty, the way he was always willing to throw himself into the fire if it meant protecting someone else.

  Watari again.

  No matter what moment she thought of—he was always there.

  And that’s when it hit her.

  Not slowly.

  Not softly.

  It hit like a crash. Like an explosion. Like a fire finally igniting after smoldering for far too long.

  “I love him.”

  Her fingers stilled against the table, her heart hammering in her chest.

  She stared down at her hands, as if she could physically grasp the thought.

  “Shit.”

  She exhaled sharply, biting the inside of her cheek.

  Now was not the time for this.

  But it was too te.

  The thought was there.

  And it wasn’t leaving.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten mad at him like that… I just hope he’s okay.”

  And then—

  A voice cut through the silence, snapping all of them back to reality.

  “We’ll be headed to New York in one week’s time.”

  Commander Samberg’s words were calm, absolute.

  None of them spoke.

  They didn’t need to.

  One week.

  One week until they arrived at the battlefield.

  One week until the world changed forever.

  CUT TO BLACK.