Novel | Bring the Beat

Chapter 1: The Silent After School

"That's all for today's class."

At the sound of the chime, the teacher's voice echoed, and the classroom began to buzz.
Spring sunlight streamed in through the windows, and the scent of the new season still lingered in the air.

"Ah, it's over!"
"Hey, are you guys going to stop by Jorna on the way home today?"

Amidst the noisy voices rising from all around, Toma Kenmochi quietly closed his textbook alone. He did not join the circle, did not make eye contact, and stood up from his seat in silence.

He slipped out of the school building and walked along the shadows lining the athletic field.

"Pass it back, pass it back, nice!"

He turned up the volume on his earphones by one notch to drown out the shouts of the soccer team coming from behind him.

"Next is Machida, Machida~"

Pushed by the waves of commuters and students, he exited the train and headed toward the building where his cram school was located.

"Finally, one year left until the entrance exams. Those who start running this spring will be the ones laughing in the winter!"

The instructor's passionate voice rang through the classroom. Outside the window, the night was already beginning to settle in.

When cram school ended, he hopped on the bicycle he had parked in front of the station that morning and slipped through the darkened shopping street.

Even when he arrived home, he didn't reply to his mother's "Welcome home," but instead kicked off his shoes, ran up the stairs, and headed straight to the desk in his room.

"Dinner is ready!"

His mother's voice echoed again, but Toma remained silent, opened his textbook, and ran his pen across his notebook.

——

The next day at lunch break.

Laughter and the sound of chairs being pulled back echoed throughout the classroom, creating a lively atmosphere.
Amidst the commotion, Toma sat alone at his desk, silently working on his problem set.
It wasn't that anyone had strictly told him to "study." It was just that Toma was calmly keeping to the rules he had set for himself every single day.

Hey Kenmochi, that again? Seriously, this is insane, you've got to see this.

The student in the seat behind me holds out his smartphone.

On the screen were two rappers facing each other. Matching the intense beat, they were hurling a torrent of rap at each other from such close range that their noses were almost touching.

An exchange of sharp words, explosive cheers. A development that left no room to breathe. Toma couldn't take his eyes off it.

Do I... have anything I want to say like that?

The people in the video were free.
They were shaking the world with just their words.

Toma asked, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

What is this...?

The student who recommended it smiled with a look of surprise, but also something like amusement.

What!? You don't know about MC battles?

Toma didn't answer, returning his gaze to the screen. Before the words themselves, something deep in his chest was stirring.

--

Even after the after-school bell rang, something felt different than it had yesterday.
In his head, that rap from before kept playing over and over.

Before he knew it, on his way home from cram school, the force he put into the bicycle pedals was a little stronger.

Returning home, Toma went to open his textbooks in his room as usual, but suddenly stopped.

He picked up his smartphone and searched for "MC battle." Toma became absorbed in the videos that appeared one after another. He forgot the time, glued to the screen.

Your dinner is going to get cold!

His mother's voice echoed from the kitchen.

--

The days that followed were changing, little by little, but surely.

Whether walking or riding his bike, what flowed from the earphones in his ears was the rap from the battle he had seen in the classroom that day.

As he looked up names that caught his interest and followed related videos, the time he spent naturally exposed to rap increased.
The words released over the beat were incredibly direct, as if the person's very life was reaching him.

The more he listened, the lighter his heart strangely felt.
Every time he encountered those words, he felt like he had become just a little bit stronger himself.

Anyway, I watched MC battle videos one after another. I was obsessed, as if I couldn't afford to waste a single second.
I replayed the battles I liked over and over, and before I knew it, I had memorized the lyrics by heart.

And then one day, my hand suddenly stopped.
With my finger resting on the smartphone's search bar, the feeling that had been faintly budding deep in my heart finally took clear shape.

—I want to try it, too.

Before I knew it, I was typing.

"Machida Station Cypher"

Several videos and X posts appeared.
An improvised rap session said to be held in front of Machida Station.

"…It really exists."

Chapter 2: The First Words

A few days later, on my way home from cram school.
Toma chose a different route than usual.
The humid breeze, typical of May, clung to his skin—.

He walked a bit past the station front, which was crowded with people, in the opposite direction of the bicycle parking lot, and headed toward the back alley that led behind the smoking area.

There, a small circle emerged in the shadow of a streetlamp.
Young people dressed in street fashion were standing in a circle.
In the center, someone was laying down a beatbox, and words were being layered over it.

"Hey, is this your first time? Don't just stand there, join in."

A boy around his age called out to him. He was taken aback, but he had no intention of running away.
Still in his school uniform, which made him stand out from the crowd, Toma hesitantly took a step into the circle.

"Alright, then you give it a try too. It's your turn."

The circle rotated, the beat continued—and then, it was Toma's turn.
The sound of his heartbeat pounded in his ears.
But his mouth had already started moving on its own.

"Like, you guys are all just a bunch of small fry, there's no one here who can match me. This is the beginning of a legend—"

At that moment, a stir ran through the circle.
What he had been watching was MC battles.
But this wasn't a battle; it was a cypher.

The surrounding rappers looked at each other with bitter smiles and confusion.

"Wait a second, why all of a sudden…"

Before they could finish, Toma continued.

"You can't stop me, and I'm not listening to anyone. You're all so lame, I'll show you my skills—!"

At that moment, on the other side of the circle, a particularly large man grimaced and let out a low growl.

"...Who the hell are you?"

Along with the angry voice, a plastic bottle at his feet was kicked away.

"I've been listening to you run your mouth for a while now, and you're getting way too cocky. Are you looking for a fight, punk?!"

"Stop it, this is bad...!"

The other rappers tried to intervene, but the air was already thick with tension.

Toma froze at the sudden shouting, unable to move from the spot.
The blood drained from his body, which had been burning just moments before.
It was a powder keg—a fight was about to break out.

Everyone held their breath, and the air froze.
Then, as if to cut through that tension—

"Hey, wait a second."

A quiet yet strangely resonant voice echoed.
Everyone's gaze turned toward the owner of that voice.

"AMARU...!"

A young man was standing outside the circle.

He wore black-based street fashion, with a subtle yet striking chain around his neck.
He had a calm demeanor—yet he radiated a quiet pressure.
The moment his name was called, the atmosphere changed completely.

"Cut it out. If you start trouble here and get the cops called, we won't be able to use this spot anymore."

He, Amaru, picked up the kicked plastic bottle and stepped smoothly between Toma and the large man.

"What's your name?"

"...It's Big G."

"I know that. And you?"

Toma answered, still feeling bewildered.

...Toma Kenmochi

Amaru flashed a faint smile and said, casting his gaze around the area.

You heard him, right? He's just an amateur who just started. It would be a waste if this place became unusable because of a guy like him, wouldn't it?

He tapped Big G on the shoulder lightly and continued.

Come to my live show sometime. Let's have a drink. I'll talk to him about it, so could you let it slide for today?

Big G, realizing that AMARU recognized him, almost let his cheeks relax, but he immediately tightened his expression and nodded, pretending to be reluctant.

...Alright. If you say so.

Thank you. You're a lifesaver.

Amaru turned his gaze to Toma and said briefly.

Hey, Kenmochi. Let's go.

Toma followed behind him, unable to even speak.

--

Hey, aren't you hungry?

Amaru suddenly turned around while walking. Toma nodded slightly. Seeing that, Amaru headed toward Sukiya near Machida Station.

They ordered beef bowls and salads at the ticket machine and sat at a window seat. There were few customers in the store, and only out-of-place, upbeat J-POP was playing brightly.

About earlier... I'm sorry.

Amaru smiled as if he had relaxed his shoulders at Toma, who had finally managed to squeeze out the words.

Well, it can't be helped. Everyone is like that at first.

Anyway, how old are you?

I'm a high school senior...

Huh, the same age? My bad, I thought you were younger.

Toma had thought he was older due to his composed demeanor, but Amaru was also 18, the same as Toma.

From the tray that had been brought over, Amaru picks up a cherry tomato from the salad with his chopsticks.

"You know, you were turning bright red a while ago too... you're seriously like a tomato."

At that abrupt remark, Toma couldn't help but burst out laughing. Even as he laughed, he felt the tension in his shoulders ease just a little.

"...Looking at you reminds me of my old self. It's kind of cringey, so I couldn't help but laugh."

Amaru says suddenly, as if muttering to himself.

"I was the same at first, acting tough and charging in without knowing anything. I couldn't read the room and messed up... and got chewed out for it later."

Biting into the cherry tomato, Amaru gives a self-deprecating laugh.

"But well, feeling embarrassed and realizing you've messed up—that kind of stuff stays with you."

Toma softens his expression slightly and nods quietly.
A faint trace of relief seeps into his face.

"What they were doing there wasn't a battle. It's called a cypher."

Amaru continues, straightening his posture slightly.

"You stand in a circle and pass the sound and feelings around. It's not a place where you're supposed to just diss anyone and everyone."

"...I didn't know that."

"Right? Rap isn't just about battles. It's music. You use words to express yourself. We're just enjoying that."

Toma nods silently.
The rhythm and words from that moment come back to him.

"Did you have fun?"

"...Yeah. It was interesting."

"Then, keep rapping. If you want to get stronger at battles, you should learn more about songs, live performances, and rap itself."

Amaru's words were straightforward.
He wasn't lecturing or forcing anything on him; he was just facing him head-on.

After finishing their meal, the two leave the restaurant and start walking toward the station.
The night breeze brushes against their cheeks. Finally, they notice the chill.
The tension and excitement from earlier are slowly, quietly melting away.

“...Thanks for today.”

As Toma muttered this, Amaru said, his hands still shoved in his pockets.

“Don't need thanks. But if you're gonna rap, you need an MC name.”

“An MC name...?”

As Toma repeated it, Amaru smiled slightly and continued.

“You look like a tomato, so how about T-Mart? Your name is Toma, so it fits perfectly, right?”

“T-Mart...”

Toma whispered the name softly and let out a small laugh.

“Actually, that might be good.”

As they approached the station, Amaru suddenly stopped walking.

“Well, see ya. T-Mart.”

He said that and gave a light wave.

“Go back there again. I'll tell them about you.”

Adding that, Amaru walked away without looking back.

Toma watched his back as he walked away and whispered to himself.

“...T-Mart, huh.”

As if to firmly etch the sound of those words into his heart—.

Chapter 3: Into the Circle

The next day, the moment he passed the station rotary and stepped into the alley beside the smoking area, Toma's breathing became a little shallow. It was that same place where he had rushed in yesterday, not knowing anything, and ended up standing there frozen.

...Alright, let's go.

I muttered to myself as if to convince myself, and slowly took a step forward.

The heat of the day still lingered on the asphalt, and the night air carried a faint scent of damp early summer. My shirt was slowly becoming damp with sweat against my back.

Using a streetlamp as a spotlight, a few young people were gathered around a Bluetooth speaker, letting their bodies move to the beat while trading words.

In that circle were a lanky, tall man in a knit cap, a large man with an unusually loud voice, and a petite high school girl with a bob cut and sharp eyes.

I recognized the large man.
It was Big G, that intense rapper I had angered yesterday.
Just then, the high school girl noticed Toma and raised her hand slightly.

Are you, by any chance, T-Mart?

Hearing my name, I stopped in my tracks.

Oh, yes... that's me.

I knew it. I heard about you from AMARU. He said if you came by, I should teach you a few things. I didn't expect you to show up today, though.

Her voice was friendly. But at the word "teach," Toma's spine straightened just a little.

I don't know what your deal is, but don't get cocky just because AMARU likes you, you hear?

When I turned around, Big G was standing there with his arms crossed, glaring at me.

Big G. The guy in the knit cap over there is Marlboro, and I'm Rizzy. Anyway, let's take it easy. I'll be your teacher for today.

As Rizzy introduced them, Big G snorted and spat out in a venomous tone,

Rap isn't something you learn from others in the first place. I don't acknowledge you.

With that, he returned to the circle and resumed rapping over the beat from the speaker.

Don't let it bother you. You'll get used to this vibe eventually.

Rizzy tapped my shoulder lightly and beckoned me toward the circle.
Marlboro gave Toma, who was still hesitant, a gentle push on the back.

It's fine to just watch at first. That's how I started, too.

The beat began to flow.
One by one, they started improvising raps without a microphone.
If someone rapped about "after school," the next would rap about the "arcade," and the next about their "part-time job."
Layering rhymes and connecting themes, the words kept flowing.

A cipher is a place where we rap against each other in improvisation.

Marlboro opened his mouth quietly beside him.

Actually, there's no set order or length. You listen to what's going on around you, and when you feel like you can go, you rap along with the flow.

Toma thought for a moment before speaking.

...How am I supposed to rhyme?

Marlboro nodded, saying, "I get that," and then continued, choosing his words carefully.

At first, rhyming is hard, and you can't think of anything. But it's not like you're thinking of everything from scratch on the spot. It's more like you're instantly pulling words that fit the flow from a 'library' in your head.

That's why it's important to rap a lot and build up your own stock.

A cipher is a place to show off your style—your rhymes, your flow. It's like competing while playing, so it's a bit different from the tense atmosphere of a battle.

Yeah. You don't need to diss anyone to know who's the sickest.

There was a quiet strength in Rizzy's voice.

Inside the circle, Big G was taking his turn.
His deep voice marked the beat heavily.
Every time a rhyme landed with a thud, cheers erupted.

Rizzy looked at Toma and gave a slight nod with his chin.

...Want to give it a try?

Toma nodded silently.

He was definitely nervous. But there was a pounding in his chest that outweighed that.
Before he knew it, he was desperately trying to keep up with everyone else, spitting out words in a trance.

Time flew by in an instant.

—

As a result,
that night, the words didn't come out the way he wanted.

He couldn't rhyme well and stumbled many times.
But no one laughed. He felt like they truly acknowledged that he had stood in the circle.

After finishing his rap, Toma sat down on the steps of the stairs, holding a canned nectar he'd bought from a vending machine, and watched the cipher that was still going on from a distance.

My heart felt a little light and airy.
I can't quite put it into words. But, for some reason, it was a not-so-bad feeling.

Just then, Marlboro and Rizzy, who had been in the circle with me until a moment ago, came over to my side before I knew it.

“That’s a good drink you’ve got there. That sweetness after using your brain is the best, isn’t it?”

Marlboro said with a laugh.

“...Yes.”

Toma answered with an expression that still held a hint of tension.

Rizzy, who had sat down next to him, asked gently.

“How was the cypher?”

Toma thought for a moment before speaking quietly.

“It was difficult. Much more so... than I had imagined.”

At that answer, Rizzy smiled serenely.

“But I’m glad to hear you seemed to enjoy it.”

At those words, Toma’s cheeks relaxed just a little.

“Is Amaru... not here today?”

When Toma asked, Marlboro answered while twirling a small Batica between his fingertips.

“Yeah. Doesn’t look like it. She seems to have a lot going on lately, you know.”

“But still—it seems like she’s taken a liking to you. This is a first, after all.”

Rizzy chuckled and said teasingly.

“Maybe that ‘sudden barrage of disses’ from yesterday actually hit the spot for her?”

Toma couldn’t help but laugh, looking a bit embarrassed.

“...I’m really sorry.”

A somewhat warm atmosphere flowed through the place.

“I don’t know the details either, but it seems even that AMARU used to cause quite a lot of trouble back in the day.”

At Rizzy’s words, Marlboro also gave a small nod.

The damp night breeze touched his sweaty skin pleasantly.
The sweetness of the canned nectar slid smoothly down his throat.

He felt as if his place in the world had expanded just a little bit.

——

Ever since then, on his way home from school or cram school, Toma found his feet naturally heading toward the area in front of Machida Station.

As the sun began to set, people would gather from out of nowhere at the cypher spot in front of the station. Among them was Amaru.

“You came today, too.”

The greeting before exchanging raps was always short. But for Toma, that single phrase was a solid confirmation.

The two met night after night and joined the cypher circle. For Toma, that time became the conclusion of his day and a moment where he could free himself just a little.

One day.

“Come with me for a bit next time.”

The place Amaru took him after saying that was a hip-hop select shop near the station called “RAW DEAL.”
Caps and sneakers lined the walls, and in the back, young people were choosing clothes to the beat playing in the shop.

“You should start changing your look little by little, too. In rap, how you present yourself is important, you know.”

Just then, a gravelly voice echoed from the back of the shop.

“Oh, Amaru, how’s it going?”

Turning around, a man in his 40s was standing next to a turntable. Toma instinctively straightened his posture at the sight of the man, who carried both a calm demeanor and the air of the streets.

“—Oh, hey, MAR. Good work.”

Amaru replied in a slightly casual tone.

“This guy is the shop owner, MAR. He used to run several events at clubs in Shibuya, and now he supports the local scene.”

When he looked around the shop after being told that, he saw posters and flyers for club events held in Machida plastered all over the walls around the register, and CDs and mixtapes from local artists were prominently displayed on the CD rack.

“And who’s this?”

MAR looked at Toma and gave a slight nod with his chin.

This guy, he's T-Mart, he just started, but he's actually pretty interesting. He doesn't really know how to pick out clothes yet, though, so MAR, could you teach him a few things?

MAR gave a short laugh, narrowed his eyes slightly, and said to Amaru.

I see. So you've started to become one of "those people" too, huh?

Then, he turned to face Toma.

There's a lot to deal with, I'm sure, but make sure you enjoy it. "Having Fun." That's what hip-hop is for, after all.

His voice was tinged with the warmth of someone who had watched over many young people.

Come back anytime. I'm usually at the shop.

After saying that, MAR placed his hand on the turntable and lightly stroked the record.

From that day on, Toma's style of dress began to change little by little.

He started tucking T-shirts and caps into his school bag, and changing into them before heading to the cypher became a natural habit before he even realized it.

Chapter 4: The Weight of Reality

A few days later—.

On the way home from the cypher, Toma stopped in front of a convenience store with a canned coffee in his hand.

Beside him, as always, was Amaru.

He always wore his streetwear perfectly. His T-shirt was without a single wrinkle, and the white Nike Air Force 1s on his feet looked brand new every time Toma saw them. He wore a thick chain casually around his neck, which alone made him stand out even within the cypher circle.

Glancing at him, Toma suddenly wondered.

Amaru... you're a construction worker, right?

When he asked, Amaru answered nonchalantly while tilting his canned coffee.

Yeah, that's right. I'm at the site during the day. I've gotta earn money to eat, after all.

...You're the one earning the money, Amaru?

At Toma's question, Amaru shrugged his shoulders slightly.

My dad's not around. My mom's not doing well, either. I've got a little sister, too, so if I don't work, the house won't keep running.

His tone was indifferent, yet every word he spoke carried a certain weight.

Amaru took another sip of his canned coffee, then stretched lightly, as if looking up at the night sky.

"Well, a lot of the people who come there have it tough, too. It's not like I'm the only one who's special."

He said this with a slight upturn of his lips. But there was no hint of bravado in that smile. It was a quiet brightness, not comparing himself to anyone else, but simply accepting things as they were.

Toma had vaguely sensed that Amaru was dealing with some kind of family situation. But hearing it put so concretely—the stark contrast to his own life—came as a mild shock.

He went to school on a commuter pass paid for by his parents and bought steamed buns at the convenience store on his way home from cram school. All of these things were so "normal" that he had never even been conscious of the fact that his parents were "paying" for his living expenses.

And yet, Amaru, right in front of him, was the same age, working for his family, and standing in the cypher at night.

Suddenly, a rough feeling stirred in his chest.

It was a sensation akin to guilt. Did he even have the "right" to rap, having grown up in an environment without any particular hardships?

That thought was stuck somewhere in his heart like a small thorn.

——

Since then, Toma began visiting the cypher more often than ever before.

Even when he got stuck for words or couldn't rhyme well, he didn't run away and kept standing in the circle. At first, there were times when his voice was drowned out by someone else's words, and he couldn't even make a sound. But even so, he didn't give up, and he would return even the smallest of words. Toma repeated that small step over and over.

As he spent time like that, he gradually got used to the exchange of words with his peers. Before he knew it, Toma was able to make his own voice truly resonate within the circle.

"Freestyle swimming on the beat, shouting tonight from these streets"

"Spring, summer, autumn, winter, no doubt about it, gathering every night, Machida Cypher"

The exhilaration when words suddenly flashed into his mind. The pleasure of the moment when his rhymes and flow locked into the beat. His own style of rap was truly riding the sound and reaching people.

Words becoming free, swimming on the beat,
he was even beginning to learn that feeling, little by little.

"You've been getting pretty good lately, T-Mart."

Marlboro said that, lightly bumping his fist against his.

Toma felt embarrassed, but he bumped his fist back. Being recognized by those around him was simply, honestly, a happy feeling.

——

With such changes in Toma, the atmosphere in the house began to change little by little.

"You've been coming home late lately."

Mother muttered as she prepared dinner in the kitchen. However, her voice did not reach Toma's room.

"Hey, you should say something to him too. Now is not the time to be wandering around."

In response to his mother's words, his father, who had been looking at his smartphone on the sofa, replied in a somewhat carefree voice.

"If you only study, you'll become a fool. It's better to go out and play a little."

"You know how important this period is, don't you?"

Mother said with a hint of exasperation, then suddenly looked toward Toma's room. She remembered the sound of rap that had faintly drifted through the gap in the door before. She didn't understand the meaning, but she could tell that every word was filled with emotion.

Lately, she felt that Toma's expression was a little softer than before. Even if he didn't talk much more, he would sometimes hum to himself, and he had started responding more during dinner.

Mother knew. Toma had a personality where, when he got obsessed with something, he would push himself too hard without realizing it and end up suffering. There must have been stress from his entrance exams as well.

That was precisely why this small change was a relief.

Changing is by no means a bad thing. But where was it heading? That was the only thing that scared her a little.

——

Meanwhile, Amaru was also in the midst of change.

Her mother had been mentally unstable lately, unable to keep up with housework, and would just stare blankly at the TV screen while wrapped in a blanket in the living room.

The aged wallpaper. The floorboards that creaked slightly every time she walked. In that small room, the faint sounds of daily life quietly soaked into the gaps in the air.

Outside the window, the sky was covered in thick clouds, and raindrops were silently being absorbed into the ground without a sound.

"Did you take your medicine?"

When Amaru called out, there was a pause before a simple "Yeah" came back. That lightness weighed heavily on her heart.

Her fourth-grade younger sister, Miyu, was reading manga alone as usual.

"The teacher said the drawing I made in art class today was really good."

At such a modest report, Amaru savors a sense of endearment and a tiny bit of pity.

I see, you're doing great.

As he says this, he dries his younger sister's hair with a towel after her bath and uses a hair dryer. Amidst the low humming sound, his rough hands carefully scoop up her hair.

He sweats on the job site, hands his sister bento boxes or sandwiches bought at a convenience store when he gets home, and casually checks in on his mother. During the day, Amaru wears mud-stained work clothes and worn-out safety shoes. His entire appearance was that of someone carrying the weight of 'life'.

But when night falls, he appears in front of Machida Station as if nothing happened, letting his words resonate at the center of the circle. There, in a wrinkle-free T-shirt, pristine white Air Force 1s, and wearing a chain, stood 'AMARU'.

Even so, in his rap, he never spoke of his family or the weight of his daily life.

Instead, he would spit out words that were endlessly confident and proud, as if he were standing at the center of the world.

I'm the protagonist, the center of this place, the routine of turning words into gold.
A talent even the goddess of victory envies, the top of the podium is my home.

That way of being looked dazzling to Toma.

—

One night, on the way home.
Toma suddenly opened his mouth.

Amaru... you're amazing, aren't you?

What do you mean?

I mean... you work properly, you're good at rapping... you're balancing it all, so to speak.

It's nothing special. I'm just doing what I can.

Saying just that, Amaru walked ahead with his hands in his pockets as usual.

His retreating figure was completely natural. But to Toma, that back felt very far away.

Amaru's rap has no scent of reality. To Toma, that felt real in a paradoxical way.

The stance of not using his own hardships as an excuse and just continuing to look forward. That was strong and profound.

Toma held an admiration for that back. And he wanted to be someone who could stand beside him, even if just a little.

—

One day, after finishing a cypher as usual, as Amaru and Toma were walking in front of the station, a teasing voice flew at them from behind.

“Whoa, isn't that AMARU? Can I get your autograph?”

Turning around, a few men with smirking faces slowly approached. They were clearly a rough-looking bunch.

Seeing their faces, Amaru's expression stiffened for just a moment.

“What do you want...”

“Come on, don't make a face like that.”

The men seemed to be his local seniors.
There were about four of them, closing the distance as if to surround him.

“You haven't shown your face around here lately.
It'd be a problem if you forgot about us.
After all, the fact that you've started making a name for yourself is thanks to us.”

With that patronizing tone, one of them held out his hand.

“For now, give us this month's share.”

Without a word, Amaru pulled a few bills from his wallet and handed them over.
Toma saw this and tried to speak up, but Amaru silently shook his head.

“Why don't you try collecting a little from your juniors, too? Like during events and stuff.”

“If there's a high-paying gig, we'll introduce you anytime, right? You could make money fast, couldn't you?”

The words were hurled at him one after another with thin, mocking smiles. But Amaru spoke quietly and indifferently.

“...Are you done yet?”

He said that, turned his back, and started walking away. The men continued to spit words at his back.

“Make sure you count us in for the next event!
We won't get a crowd if you don't show up! Whenever you do something big, you better make sure you go through us!”

Even so, Amaru never looked back.

As they walked down the road alone together, Toma hesitated before speaking up.

“...Are you okay?”

Amaru kept looking ahead and answered quietly.

“This is the kind of place we live in.”

His words were indifferent, but what lay beneath them was heavy.

“If you don't win, you'll always be on the side that gets taken from.
It's been that way since my mom's time, and Miyu might end up in the same situation if things stay like this.
...But—rap has dreams.”

His voice was low and quiet. But it was definitely burning with heat.

“This thing has the power to turn it all around.
I'm definitely going to succeed and get out of this life.”

Toma couldn't find a response to those words.
However, something welled up from deep within his chest.

As expected, Amaru is cool.
That thought, at least, was certain.

Chapter 5: The Etiquette of Battle

Not long after that, the town of Machida was completely enveloped in the heat of summer.
The intense sunlight beat down on the asphalt, and the faint sound of cicadas could be heard from afar. Amidst a heat that made it feel as if the season had advanced all at once, Toma glanced at his smartphone timeline and suddenly stopped in his tracks.

《The 25th High School Rap Championship Announced!》

His eyes were drawn to it.

The vibrant announcement image also included the text, 'Last Year's Runner-up: AMARU'.

“...Huh, this is...”

The words slipped out unintentionally.

When he brought it up in front of Machida Station after school,
Amaru smiled, looking a little embarrassed.

“That’s from last year. I lost by a hair, but this year is my last chance.”

“Last...?”

“I’m a third-year high schooler now. I won’t be able to enter again after this.”

In his profile, there was a definite resolve, different from his usual carefree expression.

“This time, I’m definitely going to win.”

There was no hesitation in his voice. Toma’s heart stirred. Admiration, respect, and envy.

On the way home that day.

Stopping his feet on the way home, Toma looked up the tournament guidelines on his smartphone. Entry methods, requirements, deadlines. Something that had been smoldering deep in his heart began to slowly take shape.

——

A few days later, after the usual cypher.

While breaking up a Super Cup ice cream he’d bought at the Lawson in front of the station with a spoon, Toma spoke softly.

“...I think I’m going to try entering... the High School Rap Championship too.”

Amaru looked a little surprised. But he immediately raised the corners of his mouth and said,

“Sounds good. That’ll be interesting.”

Are you sure it's okay for me to enter...?

Confidence is something that comes later. What matters is... the feeling that you want to try, right?

Those words quietly lit a fire in Toma's chest.

...I'll enter.

Muttering that, Toma took out his smartphone.

Glancing at his hands, Amaru said as if it had just occurred to him.

If you're going to be in a battle, you should practice using a mic. Want to hit a studio this coming Sunday?

--

The building was located just off the main street, past the east exit of Odakyu Machida Station.

The words "Studio & Hall Sound ACT" written on the yellow sign on the wall were slightly faded, and the gray tiled exterior didn't look like a music studio at first glance.

Before he could prepare himself mentally, the automatic door slid open. Along with the cool air, he saw a reception counter and a few sofas.
A band member clutching a guitar case, a college student with headphones around their neck. Everyone was staring at their phones in silence. Toma instinctively gave a small nod and lowered his eyes.

Hey! Over here!

A bright voice echoed. When he looked up, Rizzy was waving from a sofa in the back. Marlboro and Big G were next to him.

...Sorry, I'm late.

As Toma approached timidly, Marlboro said with a smile,

It's your first time in a rehearsal studio, right? It's a bit nerve-wracking at first, isn't it?

Hmph,Big G snorted.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't come here for you. I just heard I'd be able to rap with AMARU.

Just then, a voice called out from behind.

Oh, you're all here.

It was Amaru. He walked to the reception desk with a steady stride and exchanged words with the staff as if he were used to it.

Alright, let's go.

When he opened the studio door, it was a room of about ten tatami mats surrounded by soundproof walls. There was a mic stand and cables on the floor, and speakers on the walls.
Marlboro connected his smartphone to the mixer, and as the beat started to play, the air suddenly tightened.

First, let's start with how to use the mic.

Amaru picks up the microphone and speaks while using gestures.

“In an environment like this studio where sound bounces back from the speakers, how you project your voice becomes important. Keep the mic as close to your mouth as possible. And don't grip the head of the mic too tightly.”

Toma nods as he takes the microphone.

“No matter how good your rap is, it’s meaningless if it doesn’t come through clearly over the mic. You’ll get a feel for things like vocal volume and how to build tension here.”

Marlboro quickly raises his hand.

“Shall we give it a light try for now?”

Rizzy and Toma naturally end up taking the first round. They decide who goes first and second with rock-paper-scissors, and the music starts. It’s an orthodox hip-hop beat.

Rizzy, going first, opens her mouth as usual and throws a rap at Toma, using his name as the opening hook.

“‘T-Mart’? Nice name,
But the sales that matter are still in the red.
What’s your selling point? The shelves are empty.
But that’s fine, I’ll give you guidance from scratch.”

A light, sharp flow. Amaru grins.

“So good…” Toma mutters unintentionally, but Big G barks at him.

“Shut up and hit back! It’s your turn.”

Toma hesitates for a beat before gripping the mic. He feels his heartbeat echoing louder than the beat.

“Sure, there’s nothing on the shelves,
Because I only want to sell what’s freshly made.
We aren’t just some convenience store,
Every word here is haute couture.”

His voice cracked a little, but he managed to fire back.

“Not bad,” Marlboro nods, and Amaru adds,

“Toma really is an answer-type rapper. He’s the kind who listens properly to the other person’s words and can respond reflexively.”

“That’s true. He has quick reflexes and is good at turning things around. He’s also choosing the right words to pick up on.”

Rizzy also offers her assessment.
Big G doesn’t soften his stern expression as he speaks.

“But his rhymes are way too weak. Give me the mic.”

The beat changes. A faster, bouncier drum pattern.

“Is that really true? Haute couture,
I don’t believe it, evidence is insufficient.
If I’m going to a convenience store, I’ll go to FamilyMart,
This rhyme I’m dropping is unbelievable.”

The heavy, powerful lines make the studio air tremble.

“You don’t have to be able to do everything all at once,” Rizzy says.

“There aren’t many people who can handle rhymes, flow, and answers perfectly right away. I think it’s best to find your own strengths first and polish those up.”

"I think it's the flow, after all," Marlboro continued.

"If a rap isn't locked into the beat, it won't reach anyone, no matter how good the content is. Rap is music, after all."

"Anyway, let's just try doing it a bunch. We'll take turns facing T-Mart... today is a 100-man kumite."

Amaru said that with a smile that made it impossible to tell if he was joking or serious.
The studio lights started to look somewhat like a live venue.

Toma's feet naturally began to tap out a rhythm. The hand gripping the microphone no longer had the tremor it had at the beginning.

--

By the time they left the studio, it was already completely dark outside.

Perhaps because they had rapped so much, even the sound of the Odakyu Line train passing over the tracks sounded somewhat like a beat. As the streetlights stretched across the pavement, Toma slumped his shoulders, exhausted.

"You're wiped out."

Amaru said that and laughed. But his voice was somehow gentle.
Suddenly returning to a serious expression, he looked at Toma and said:

"In the audition, they're looking at your content and character more than just winning the battle."

When Toma looked up, Amaru continued with a serious gaze."Don't ever hold back, no matter who the opponent is. Hit them with your best bars."

"Don't ever hold back, no matter who the opponent is. Hit them with your best bars."

Only the voice lingering in his ears and his relentless heartbeat were truly there.

--

From then on, Toma became even more obsessed with rap, as if possessed by something.

In his room late at night, the notebook spread out on his desk was filled with rhymes that had been rewritten over and over. Fighting off sleepiness, his hand holding the pen would not stop.

Even at school or cram school, before he knew it, he would be pulling out his smartphone from between his textbooks. He searched for word senses that could rhyme with words from his English lessons or even math formulas.

Billboards in the city, social media trends, advertisements hanging in trains. He reacted sensitively to even the most trivial phrases, and any words he thought of were immediately typed into his smartphone's memo app.

On the way home from cram school, while pedaling his bicycle, he would play beats through his earphones and, imagining the people passing by as his opponents, perform freestyle in his mouth.
Without anyone telling him to, he simply faced his words with all his might. He dove deep, deep into that world.

Chapter 6: The Temperature of the Stage

And then, the day of the audition arrived.

The venue was a club in Shibuya.
It was 10:00 AM on a Saturday, when the club was closed. Mop marks still remained on the floor, and the wet surface vaguely reflected the dim lighting. The residual heat of last night's event drifted faintly in the air.

The air in the waiting room was so tense that even the sound of breathing was audible. The participants were warming up by forming several cyphers, but Toma did not join the circles; he pulled his cap down low and quietly closed his eyes alone.The air in the waiting room was so tense that even the sound of breathing was audible. The participants were warming up by forming several cyphers, but Toma did not join the circles; he pulled his cap down low and quietly closed his eyes alone.

"Entry number 133, please step forward."

At the sound of his name, Toma let out a small breath and stood up. He noticed, even himself, that his feet were trembling slightly as he took slow steps forward.

At the judges' table sat three famous rappers he had seen on TV and YouTube. Next to them were staff members who looked like program directors. Countless gazes and a tense atmosphere—his throat felt parched.

“Alright, please give us a brief self-introduction.”

As prompted, Toma calmly stated his name, age, and hometown. Beside him was another participant. The audition was in a battle format.

The DJ placed a hand on the turntable, and a low, rumbling beat began to play.
The vibrations resonating from the floor shook him to his core.

In that moment—his consciousness shifted.

The switch flipped. Words came flooding out.
The opponent's appearance, their subtle gestures, the lines directed at him. He picked up on everything and instantly transformed it into words.

He was lost in the moment.

Before he knew it, out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the judges staring intently at him. They looked intrigued, even wearing a smile.

——

After the battle ended, Toma stood in the dim hallway of the club, watching the outcome of the judging alongside the other participants.

In the tense atmosphere.
His fingernails dug into his palms inside his pockets.

Then, a program staff member appeared and called out in a loud voice.

“I will now call the numbers of those we would like to hear rap once more. Number 112, 133, 140, 141, 150. Everyone else, that is all. Thank you very much.”

He gasped.

Number 133. That was him.

Checking the number in his hand repeatedly, he stepped forward in front of the judges once again.
This time, it was the “second round of judging.”
It seemed there would be a short interview in addition to the battle.

Once on stage, the interview began with the participant next to him.

His track record in previous tournaments, his SoundCloud tracks, his past mistakes and regrets.
“I want to repay my parents through rap for all the trouble I’ve caused them.”
There was a genuine conviction in his voice as he spoke.

Toma’s heart stirred quietly.

——Did he have anything of his own to tell?

“Alright, next. Number 133.”

Prompted, I slowly grab the microphone.

“Your school is a prep school, right? Are you planning on taking entrance exams?”

“...Yes, that is the plan.”

“Are you pretty smart?”

“...I don't think I'm bad.”

“So you're part of the Machida Cypher, which means you're with AMARU?”

“...Yes. He even gave me my name.”

“I see. If you make it to the main tournament, a master-versus-student showdown would be quite the topic, wouldn't it?”

One of the judges smiles, sounding a bit teasing.

“In that case, wouldn't it be interesting to just rap in your school uniform? It would stand out from the others.”

Toma is momentarily bewildered, but he answers without breaking his stiff expression.

“...No, I'd rather not do that.”

Though he was hesitant, a firm resolve seeped through his words.

“I see. Though, having a persona is important too.”

“Lastly, is there anything you'd like to say? Like your reason for rapping, or if your family background is different from others—”

At that question, Toma loses his words.

—A reason. —A background worth talking about.

There is nothing. No, maybe there is something. But it is far too ordinary to put into words.

“...No, really, I come from a normal home.”

For a moment, the air stands still.
But then, one of the judges smiles faintly.

"It's fine. That 'ordinary' quality is the hardest thing to achieve."

"So, let's have you rap one more time."

The beat starts to play.
A heavier, more solid rhythm than before.

Toma takes a deep breath and looks ahead, as if to shake off his anxiety.

He just rapped with all his might.
As if pouring everything he had built up into those few dozen seconds.

"No matter who the opponent is, never hold back. Hit them with your best verse."

Amaru's words come back to him.
All that was echoing was his own voice and the beat.

——

And the next day.
A notification arrived on Toma's smartphone.

《25th High School Rap Championship: Main Tournament Qualification Confirmed》

Toma's face slowly breaks into a smile as he stares at the screen.
Something slowly welled up from deep within his chest.
It was an emotion that felt unbelievable, yet undeniably joyful, warming the core of his body.

——

At night, in front of Machida Station.

"I made it. To the main tournament."

When he reported this, Amaru's eyes widened in joy, as if it were his own success.

"You did it, Toma!"

"Are you serious!? That's amazing!"

Marlboro exclaims involuntarily.
Beside him, Rizzy also smiles, her eyes narrowing.

"I can't believe you actually passed... It makes me kind of proud that two people from our cypher made it."

Fist-bumping, patting each other on the back, and laughing out loud, the four of them stood together.
Amidst the bustle of the city, the seeds of a true bond were quietly coming to life.

——

Let's celebrate T-Mart!

It was after the usual cypher that Rizzy said this in a bouncy voice.

AMARU is having a live show this Saturday. Why don't we all go?

That sounds good. T-Mart, you've never seen an AMARU live show, right?

Marlboro continued.

...Yeah. I haven't.

Then let's go! It's seriously amazing!

Pushed by Rizzy's smile, Toma decided to step into a club for the first time.

--

The Yokohama club "Venus" was already wrapped in heat from the entrance, even though it was daytime.

When they got into the elevator of the building where the venue was, the inside of the doors was covered in posters. In the center of countless photos of rappers and DJs, AMARU's face was displayed prominently.

Toma couldn't help but stop in his tracks at that presence.

...Wow.

The small voice he let out was drowned out by the sound of the closing door.

The moment he stepped into the club, the heavy bass resonated from under his feet, and he was overwhelmed by the dazzling lights and the crowd. It was his first time in a club in business mode, and he didn't know where to look.

Are you nervous?

Marlboro asked with a smile. Toma shook his head, looking awkward.

It's okay. You'll get used to it as soon as you get inside.

Pushed from behind, he went through the flashy hallway.

The dimly lit floor was packed with an audience of the same generation, jumping to the music. As an event hosted by high school students, the venue was wrapped in the kind of heat unique to young players and spectators.

Toma tried to suppress the fluttering in his chest while desperately following the backs of Marlboro and Rizzy.

Let's get something to drink!

Pushed by Rizzy's voice, I order a cola at the bar counter. Just then—

It's time! It's AMARU's turn!

Marlboro shouted excitedly.

The stage lights grew brighter, and a heavy, bass-driven beat began to resonate. At that moment, the floor erupted in noise, and the audience surged toward the stage one after another.

AMARU leaped onto the stage, bathed in the spotlight.

Cash Rain! Cash Rain! It's pouring down! Gold Drip! Gold Drip! It's all mine!

Smartphone lights flashed, the crowd swayed, and the beat thundered. The audience raised their voices in unison, jumping, as if they had become one with AMARU.

Toma was simply overwhelmed. He held his breath, lost for words. This was like a completely different person from the Amaru he knew.

AMARU raced across the stage with his whole body, sweat flying, gripping the microphone as if burning his life away. Let's go! Make some more noise!

The floor exploded at his goading. Rizzy ran out toward the stage, and Marlboro watched the scene happily.

...Amazing. Toma was simply glued to the sight.

Amaru on stage had cast aside his composure, sending sweat flying as he hammered out his words with his entire being. Amaru, too, was fighting. He was desperately trying to win his own worth and expression with his voice.

I will definitely succeed and get out of this life. Those words resurfaced in Toma's mind. The Amaru of right now was the very embodiment of that resolve.

Even after the stage performance ended, the heat in the club did not cool down. The floor was overflowing with people, so crowded that one could barely move as they pleased. As the DJ mixed beats one after another, the guests sang, danced, and raised their voices to the music, enjoying themselves in their own ways.

Toma watched the lively floor from a slightly distant spot, staring intently. Deep inside his chest, his heart was pounding as if it might burst. He felt excited and happy. When a song he knew played, he desperately held back the urge to sing along out loud. Even so, his body naturally began to keep the rhythm.

Looks like you're enjoying yourself after all. Rizzy said in a loud voice, bringing his face close to Toma's ear. While slightly bewildered by the proximity, Toma was quietly savoring the lingering echoes of Amaru's live performance from earlier.

That was when—.

Hey, what are you going to do about this! A voice filled with anger reached his ears clearly, even amidst the roar of the floor. Reflexively turning toward it, he saw Marlboro being cornered by some men.

I'm sorry, I was bumped into from the side too... Marlboro was apologizing desperately, but the pair of men weren't listening at all, closing in on him as if to pin him against the wall. Apparently, in the crowded floor, the contents of Marlboro's glass had spilled onto one of the pair's sneakers.

No matter how you looked at it, the other party seemed like bad news.
A sudden heat flared deep within Toma's chest.

Whether it was the pounding music and the heat of the crowd getting to him, or just his single-minded desire to protect Marlboro, he didn't know. Regardless, before he knew it, he was fired up, and his body had stepped forward on its own before he could even think.

“Hey, wait! Don't start a fight!”

Rizzy's voice rang out, but he couldn't stop anymore.
The moment he lunged forward—.

“Alright, stop.”

A large hand grabbed Toma's shoulder, restraining him with great force.
Before he could step forward, the man smoothly blocked his view.

It was Big G.

“Yo, what's up? Did something happen?”

He didn't even glance at the men, speaking only to Marlboro.
—It was as if he were saying, I'm on this guy's side.

Perhaps intimidated by the large man who had suddenly appeared, the pair huddled together to whisper something, then left the scene with dissatisfied expressions, leaving behind a muttered, unintelligible parting shot.

Feeling the tense atmosphere suddenly ease, Big G gave Marlboro's shoulder a light tap.

“Man, what would you do if I wasn't here? Seriously.”

He then turned to face Toma and said in a low voice,

“Don't go doing things you're not cut out for.”

The way he said it sounded dismissive, but there was a faint, different warmth deep within his voice.

—

The three of them left the club, which still held the lingering heat of the night.
Even though there were some dangerous moments, it was fun overall, and he was wrapped in the exhilaration of seeing a world he hadn't known before expand before him.

“You, it's fine to get fired up, but cut it out. You had such a scary look on your face when you were about to charge in.”

Rizzy said, sounding a bit exasperated as they walked through the bustling streets in front of Yokohama Station at night.

“You were trying to protect me, weren't you?”

Marlboro smiled.

Toma, unsure how to react, gave a bashful, bitter smile and changed the subject.

“...Seriously, the live show was amazing.”

“It really is great, isn't it? Freestyle is awesome, but rapping on a track is a whole different thing.”

Marlboro said deeply, and Toma nodded quietly.

“AMARU was so cool...”

Rizzy was still basking in the afterglow, her excitement clearly not yet cooled.

We can't afford to lose either. We have to work hard on our tracks, too.

Marlboro said this while looking straight ahead, and Toma looked at his profile and smiled softly.

But man, AMARU is popular with the ladies, isn't he?

At Marlboro's joking remark, Rizzy immediately looks annoyed.

There's no way AMARU would fall for just any girl!

The three of them couldn't help but laugh at the way she said that.
Their soft laughter faded into the hustle and bustle of the night.

Chapter 7: The Line You Must Not Cross

The day of the High School Rap Championship finals.

The venue is Kawasaki Club Citta.
Filled with youthful energy and tension, staff members were busy moving around the floor in preparation for the Abema broadcast.

In the waiting room, the favorite to win, Amaru, is giving a pre-show interview. Toma watched him quietly from a little distance away.

He let his gaze drop to his palms, suppressing his trembling fingertips with a deep breath. The cap, denim, and vintage-style T-shirt he had chosen for today—he had dressed to try and fit in as much as possible, but he felt a quiet tension swirling inside him, fearing that someone might see through such efforts.

Toma took out his smartphone. A LINE message had arrived from Amaru, who was currently answering the interview right next to him.

——No matter who the opponent is, just be yourself. Be T-Mart.

Those words gently lit a fire deep within his heart.

The battle began, and the participants sparked fire one after another. Amaru was capturing the audience's attention with his overwhelming perfection.

I'm the favorite, the top-ranked odds
What suits me is the trophy, and a pair of pure white Forces

Every time a line landed, the floor erupted and grew heated.
Cheers and beats intersected, and the air trembled. In the midst of that vortex of heat, it was finally time for Toma's turn.

Finally, the first round.
The moment his name was called, Toma gasped.

From the darkness of the wings, he stared at the giant LED panel set in the center of the stage. Along with a dazzling light, his introductory video was being projected.
His breathing became shallower and shallower. His heartbeat quickened, and he could clearly feel his palms sweating.

The video was edited with a snappy, variety-show-like tempo.

The Advancing Rhyme Professor, T-Mart

That was the nickname he was given, and the video humorously introduced how an elite high school student attending a prep school was challenging the world of rap.

An interview with AMARU, who discovered and trained his talent, was also shown.
Once this guy gets fired up, there's no stopping him.
On the screen, Amaru said that with a laugh.

Meanwhile, his opponent was Jett, a rapper from Niigata.

With sharp eyes, blonde hair, and wearing a tracksuit, he had the look of a true outsider, the exact opposite type of person from Toma. He barely attended school and used raw, aggressive rap as his weapon. In the video, he was also shown surrounded by a large group of friends, proudly talking about his own style.

Rizzy and Marlboro watched that footage side-by-side in the audience.

I wonder if he'll be okay... The opponent looks kind of scary.

Rizzy narrowed her eyes anxiously.

Well... despite how he looks, he's actually quite competitive.

Marlboro said with a wry smile, his arms crossed. His eyes were filled with worry, yet there was a hint of belief in them.

Now, T-Mart, Jett. Please come to the stage!

As their names were called, they stepped onto the stage. The lights were far brighter than he had imagined, pouring down onto his face, and Toma tried his best to focus on himself.

He won the rock-paper-scissors and chose to go second. The words Rizzy had told him during practice crossed his mind. You're good at answering, so if you win the rock-paper-scissors, definitely go second!

The DJ started scratching, and the beat began to flow. Going first, Jett—

Are you scared? Take the second spot. More importantly, crowd! How are you feeling? I'm always ready for a fight. Today, I'm definitely taking the crown!

He raised his fist and shouted. The venue buzzed with excitement.

And then, Toma.

You can't tell without asking? Do you have eyes and ears? Are you okay? The crowd is easily at its peak—I'm raising it even higher with this microphone!

Jett's face flushed with excitement at the unexpectedly bold answer.

Round two.

Shut up, you jerk, don't mess with me! In my neighborhood, someone like you would be gone in one hit! Enjoy your cocky attitude while it lasts—what do you know about HipHop anyway!

Jett shouted, pouring out his anger. Even while taking the full force of that intensity, Toma didn't flinch. He gripped the mic and bit back. You're just loud and you're not even rhyming. That doesn't scare me, it's just a threat! Here I go, the first step of a legend. I'll show you my own HipHop! At those words, the audience let out a huge cheer.

Although his technique was still clumsy, Toma was surely beginning to capture the hearts of the audience with his reckless rap and straightforward attitude.

Eventually, the judges' decision was handed down.

Winner—T-Mart!

A narrow victory. The moment his name was called, a huge round of applause and cheers were sent from the venue.

See, I told you so, didn't I?

Marlboro tapped Rizzy on the shoulder, looking somewhat smug. Rizzy gave a small, wry smile, but continued to applaud as if relieved.

—

Miraculously winning such a close match, Toma was slowly, but surely, capturing the heart of the venue.

There were moments when he stumbled over his words. There were times when his rhythm faltered. But his stubbornness and his ability to respond in the moment were second to none.
Desperately clinging to his more experienced peers, he fought his way up, step by step, as if struggling for air.

The murmurs turned into cheers, and his raw inexperience actually touched the hearts of the audience.
Before long, everyone began to shout his name.
The momentum never stopped, and after winning each match in a nail-biting contest, Toma had finally reached the final stage that no one had ever imagined.

Both his body and mind were nearing their limits.
Toma, trying to catch his breath in the wings of the stage, waited quietly for the final battle that was about to begin.

At that moment, an announcement echoed through the venue.

"Final match, T-Mart vs. AMARU"

At that instant, tension swept through the venue. Cheers and murmurs mingled, and all eyes turned to the stage at once.

"No way."
"Finally, a master-apprentice showdown."

Such voices were mixed into the buzz.
The head judge, a rapper, slowly lifted his microphone and opened his mouth with a low, resonant voice.

"AMARU has been flawless in every match so far, aiming for the championship this time. On the other hand, T-Mart has shown clear growth with every match throughout the tournament, with explosive power. I'm looking forward to this clash between the two of them."

That voice quieted the atmosphere, but it certainly tightened the tension.

"This... I wonder what's going to happen."

Marlboro let out a voice filled with anxiety.
Next to him, Rizzy stared straight ahead, her brows slightly furrowed.

"I think it'll be AMARU, as expected... but T-Mart is also, somehow, getting better and better."

There was a sense of confusion in her voice, and it sounded as if she were trying to convince herself.

The heat of the lights stung his skin. Amidst the swirling smoke, Toma and Amaru stood on stage facing each other.
The back he had always admired was now right in front of him.

Amaru stared straight ahead quietly. His expression did not change. But deep in his eyes, there was a strength as if he had made a decision.
Stripping away unnecessary emotions and facing only himself, a pressure naturally exuded from his figure. Even though he was just standing there, he had an overwhelming presence.

Facing such an Amaru, joy and anxiety clashed in Toma's chest. Still, the exhilaration of having made it this far and the confidence that had gradually become certain were slowly taking root in his body.

"I don't want to lose."

The moment he thought that, he even felt a slight confusion at the intensity of the emotion that welled up from within him.

But perhaps that is what it means to "clash for real." Toma gripped his microphone tightly.

——

The MC stood in the center of the stage, gripping the microphone.

"We'll decide who goes first and second with rock-paper-scissors!"

The audience held their breath, watching the two of them. The air was as sharp as a taut string.

Amaru and Toma faced each other quietly. Their hands overlapped, and they played rock-paper-scissors. Amaru won.

"I'll go first."

His voice rang out, calm yet filled with certainty. At that moment, the venue erupted. Expectation and excitement intersected, and the heat rose all at once.

The DJ places a hand on the turntable. Four scratch sounds.
The battle has begun.

Amaru steps into the center of the stage.

As if the silence from moments ago was a lie, he grips the microphone with an intensity that ignites the room.

“Last year’s revenge, this is my last chance
I won’t yield to anyone, I’m the one who becomes the champ!
There’s naturally no chance for anyone but me to win!
Bring it here quickly, the golden mic!”

Every word and syllable carries weight, sharp and unwavering. A level of perfection that doesn't betray the audience's expectations. The floor heats up, and hands go up one after another.

In that atmosphere, Toma, going second, takes a step forward.

“If it’s a last chance, then I’m the same
Being AMARU’s apprentice ends today too
I’m surpassing my idol right now
I can’t stop here just yet!”

Even with a trembling voice, he throws his words out with pure spirit.

—Round two. Amaru again.

“The path I’ve walked is the royal road
It’s not plated, this mic is gold
The heavy chain is proof in itself
This voice creates more value than anyone else”

The venue erupts.
It was truly the style of a king.

The battle seemed decided.
Even so, Toma held his ground.
At the very last moment, he squeezed out his voice.

He had exhausted all the lines he had prepared.
His mind was blank, and no further words came to him.
Still, he couldn't just give up.

Before he knew it, Toma’s words had stepped into the “place Amaru shouldn't have touched.” He didn't want to lose. Just that, with all his heart.

“You act all cool, but you’re actually working a part-time job
Working desperately on-site every single day
That necklace you’re showing off so proudly
You didn’t buy that with rap money, did you!”

For a moment, the air stopped. And in the next instant, a huge roar engulfed the venue.

The words were intense. They had the destructive power to shatter the image Amaru had built up as “AMARU” until now with just a single blow.

The audience went wild, and the floor was swallowed by a vortex of frenzy.

Until the moment of the judges' decision,
Toma didn't really understand what was happening himself.

And then.

“The winner—T-Mart!”

The moment the MC's call echoed, the floor was enveloped in loud cheers and applause.

Though stunned, Toma finally understood that his name had been called as the winner, and he slowly clenched his fist.

In the dazzling spotlight,
his hand was raised high.

Deafening cheers. Dazzling lights and applause that wouldn't stop. A scene he had never experienced before was spreading out before his eyes.

The fact that he was at the center of this felt somewhat unreal. His body was hot, his heart felt like it was floating, and everything happening on stage felt like an event in a dream.

Just like that, the MC holding the microphone continued the event without a hitch.

A trophy was handed over, and photos were taken with the packed audience in the background. Every time the shutter clicked, another cheer went up.

Eventually, the camera flashes stopped, and at that moment, things settled down.

Toma took a deep breath and finally regained a bit of his composure.

Then, he looked toward the floor. Amidst the wave of spectators, he saw Rizzy and Marlboro, who had come to cheer him on.

Marlboro was slowly clapping, though he had a somewhat troubled expression on his face. Beside him, Rizzy remained still, looking down. He couldn't see his face well, but it looked as if he were suppressing some strong emotion.

——

After the awards ceremony, in the dressing room.

Amaru sat alone on the sofa in the dressing room. He remained silent, looking down. He covered his eyes with his palms, breathing in and out deeply over and over.

Frustration, humiliation, and shame.
A whirlpool of emotions was swirling, and he was desperately holding back a scream that felt like it was about to overflow from a cup.

Even from a distance, one could see his shoulders trembling slightly. He was in such a precarious state that everything might collapse at the slightest trigger.

That was when Toma, having finished his winner's interview, quietly appeared.

Facing the dejected Amaru, Toma hesitated but spoke to him quietly.

"I... won. But it's all thanks to you, Amaru. I—"

At those words, Amaru's body stiffened slightly.

"...Shut up."

Words squeezed out as if spitting them away.
I couldn't help but lose control of myself at the sound of that tone, which was laced with pity.

"Why... why is it you...?"

Frustration overflowed from deep within my chest, as if a dam had broken.

"You have parents, you have money... why is it you who wins instead of me!"

My voice gradually grew heated, and I couldn't stop myself anymore.

"This is all I have! Don't mess with me...! Get out! I don't even want to see your face!!"

It was a scream unimaginable from the Amaru I had known until now.
Stunned by the sheer intensity of the words, Toma stood frozen in place.

I thought I had to say something back.
But my chest ached, and the words just wouldn't come out.

In the end, I just looked down and muttered softly.

"...I'm sorry."

Leaving only that behind, Toma left the dressing room in silence.

On the other side of the door, Amaru remained with his face covered, stifling his voice.

Chapter 8: Silence and Reunion

After that, Toma began to distance himself from rap.

Even though I was supposed to have won, I felt like I had lost something, and I couldn't smile from the heart. That night with Amaru wouldn't leave my head.

Walking by the school grounds after class, I was suddenly called out to by a junior from the same high school.

"I saw the High School Rap Championship! You were seriously cool!"

When he said that, I choked on my words for a moment, and answered while looking away.

"...Sorry, I've already quit rapping."

I left the spot as if running away.

I return home, go to cram school, and open my textbooks.
As if nothing had happened, I return to my days as a "student preparing for exams."

At school, preparations for the school festival were underway. The sound of tape being applied to decorations, the voices of students excited by practicing for their exhibits. Amidst that fervor, Toma sat in the corner of the classroom, quietly flipping through handouts by himself.

Was the version of me that stood on that stage just an illusion? The days I spent running through in a frenzy feel impossibly distant in the current silence.

That moment during the battle. I got too heated and turned things Amaru didn't want touched into a rap. Even though he trusted me so much and confided everything in me, I betrayed him.

I couldn't stand myself for that.

Ever since I let go of rap, it felt as if a part of me had been ripped away.

Until now, I had been fine on my own. I should have been able to handle my days preparing for exams just fine. But after knowing rap, the silence on the way home from cram school rang painfully in my ears.

Even so. I couldn't bring myself to pick up the mic again.

I might hurt someone again, and I felt like I would end up hating myself even more.

——

Meanwhile, the cypher in front of Machida Station continued.

A weekend night. A slightly chilly wind slipped through the gaps between the buildings. A few rappers formed a circle, passing words back and forth to the beat.

A little outside that circle, Rizzy stood quietly, holding a can of corn soup. Her gaze was directed at those exchanging raps, but her heart was somewhere else.

Since that day, AMARU hasn't shown his face.

The battle between T-Mart and AMARU had become a hot topic among the friends in Machida.

“That was seriously insane.”
“That’s a legend, man!”

Every time those voices reached her ears, Rizzy’s heart felt unsettled.

Every time she recalled that day, the image of AMARU standing frozen on stage would burn into her mind. And at the same time, anger toward T-Mart would slowly well up inside her.

Exhaling quietly, she took out her smartphone. The screen displayed a photo taken a long time ago. In front of Machida Station at night. The person in the photo was AMARU, a boy one year older than her.

——

She started rapping in the winter of her third year of junior high.

My mother was a nurse who worked many night shifts and was rarely home. I had no father. Naturally, I spent more and more time alone outside the house. Before I knew it, I had become completely accustomed to the atmosphere of the city at night, and my clothes had gradually become flashier. Blending into the hustle and bustle of the city had also become second nature.

I gained a lot of experience early on, to the point where kids my own age seemed childish. However, the more I learned about new things, the colder my heart became.

Even if I wanted help, there was no way such a silent voice could reach anyone, and no one would reach out a hand to me.

Then one day, I happened to see a cypher in front of Machida Station.

In the center of the circle was AMARU, holding a microphone and laughing. He didn't pander to anyone, didn't care what anyone thought, and was simply clashing his words over the beat. He looked like he was having fun.

AMARU suddenly noticed her standing there watching, and with a soft smile, he called out to her.

Why don't you give it a try?

I instinctively wanted to walk away. But his voice was strangely warm, and I felt like he would accept me as I was, without me having to force a smile.

That was Rizzy's first rap.

Since then, I have changed little by little. I learned that feelings I couldn't put into words could reach someone if I put them into my voice.

AMARU was the person who gave me the chance to change myself.

That is why I sincerely wished for him to be able to smile again.

After finishing the canned corn soup, Rizzy slowly walked toward the circle.

——

The same night, in front of a convenience store a little ways away.

Marlboro stood leaning against a wall, quietly spinning a lighter in his hand. His gaze drifted aimlessly, as if melting into the night city. At his feet, the toes of his worn-out sneakers kicked the asphalt slightly. That gesture revealed something of an 18-year-old boy.

Marlboro first encountered rap in the spring of his third year of junior high school.

At home, his parents' fighting never ceased. Shouting, the sound of things breaking, crying. Even though he had a place to return to, there was nowhere for his heart to rest.

In the midst of those days, he would just wander the streets, sometimes shoplifting bread from convenience stores when he was hungry, or hanging out with bad crowds and getting picked up by the police.

If I hadn't encountered that cypher in front of Machida Station back then,

I might have gone down a path from which I could never return.

At first, I was just watching. With nowhere to go, I stood still, and only the words and sounds flying around in the circle quietly entered my heart.

But the AMARU who was there then was much more innocent, straightforward, and looked like he was having more fun holding the mic than anyone else.

"You should try it too. It's surprisingly fun."

I still remember clearly the moment he said that to me. I felt like the coldness that had been stuck deep in my chest had melted just a little bit.

Since then, Marlboro has kept on rapping.

It was the only place where I could be myself.

To live without getting involved with anyone, without standing out, and without getting hurt. I thought that was the right answer.

But rap was different. Even if you were clumsy or bad at it, if you put it into words, it would reach someone. That was his only salvation.

Flicking his lighter with his finger, Marlboro lets out a soft laugh.

"Well, what will be, will be, right?"

Beyond his gaze as he looked up, the lights in front of Machida Station and the yet-unseen future stretching far beyond them were faintly twinkling.

And in that future, the figures of T-Mart and AMARU were certainly reflected as well.

Each of them was spending the same unchanging night in their own respective places.

——

One day after school.
The sound of rain quietly filled my ears, as if to announce the deepening of the season.

Under the roof of the bus terminal in front of Machida Station.
Toma, on his way home from cram school, waited for the next bus while staring intently at his wet school loafers.

He couldn't use his bicycle, and the rain was too strong to walk in.
With a sigh, he took his smartphone out of his pocket and stared blankly at the screen.
Both his heart and body felt heavy somehow.

"...Huh? T-Mart?"

Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice.
When I looked up, Marlboro was looking at me with his umbrella hooked over his shoulder.
Beside him was Rizzy.

"It's been a while. I haven't seen you at all lately."

Marlboro had his usual soft smile, but Rizzy's expression was sharp.
The moment our eyes met, Toma's heart gave a jolt.

"You——"

Without a moment's hesitation, Rizzy raised his voice as if to close the distance.

"Hey, what was that supposed to mean! What were you thinking!? AMARU hasn't been to the cypher once since then!"

Toma instinctively lowered his gaze at the intensity of her tone.

"Come on now, that was a battle..."

Marlboro gently pulled her arm.

But Rizzy wouldn't back down.
Instead, she piled on more words as if she had been set on fire.

"Just because it's a battle doesn't mean there aren't things you should and shouldn't say! What do you even know about AMARU!"

Her eyes were serious.
Rather than just angry, she was trying to protect someone.
The pain of seeing something precious to her get hurt was being laid bare and hurled at him.

Toma couldn't answer.
He just kept his head down, his breathing becoming shallow.

"...You already have enough. Don't take anything more away from AMARU!"

That final remark pierced him like a knife.

"Rizzy, that's enough."

Marlboro said in a calm, admonishing tone, then turned his gaze toward Toma.

"Sorry about that... Don't let it get to you too much. Let's talk again sometime."

Even that gentle voice felt distant to Toma.

Just then, the announcement that the bus was arriving echoed through the air.
Toma started walking in silence, tapped his IC card, and boarded.
He never once looked up.

"Hey! Are you listening to me!? You!!"

Rizzy's angry voice was thrown at him from behind.
But Toma didn't turn around.

The bus doors closed quietly, and the figures of Rizzy and Marlboro blurred into the rain on the other side of the window.
Along with the sound of the engine, only a cold rain continued to fall inside Toma's heart.

——

Toma's mother had noticed these changes in him.

That his smiles had decreased a little lately.
That he seemed somewhat absent-minded even during meals.
She didn't force him to talk, but she was worried nonetheless.

So tonight, I prepared Toma's favorite dish.
As she placed the freshly fried tonkatsu on the table, my mother quietly observed him.

After finishing dinner preparations and picking up her chopsticks, she opened her mouth as if she had made up her mind.

"Hey... have you really quit rapping?"

Toma answered without stopping his hands.

"Yeah. It just wasn't for me."

My mother started to say something else, but she quietly swallowed the words.

There was certainly a sense of relief, too.
But his listless profile was something I just couldn't help but worry about.
I just watched him quietly with a concerned gaze.

"Oh, tonkatsu! Is there something to celebrate?"

My father's carefree remark upon returning home echoed lightly through the quiet dining table.

Chapter 9: The Real Voice

Around that time, Amaru, just as Rizzy had said, had also stopped showing up at the cypher at Machida Station.

Since the day of the battle, it felt as if the armor he had been wearing had been stripped away, and he no longer knew what kind of face he should make when rapping.

He still regretted that night.

In truth, he hadn't intended to say things like that.
He just couldn't suppress the frustration and the sense of shame.
It wasn't that he wanted to blame Toma. He just couldn't forgive his own weakness.

One day, while on a break at the work site, the foreman spoke to him.

"I heard your mother is having a hard time."

"Yes... she seems to have been feeling a bit unwell lately."

"I see... Hey, why don't you settle down and work here full-time? If you become a regular employee, I think there's more I can do for you."

"...Thank you. Please, let me think about it."

Leaving his words vague, Amaru stepped out of the office.
Rapping, work. Both were half-hearted.
Yet, it wasn't a simple enough feeling to just commit to one or the other.

If he let his guard down even a little, he felt like he would be crushed by the weight of what he was carrying. When he looked up, a cloudless blue sky, the complete opposite of his own state, stretched out endlessly.

That night,
When Amaru returned home, he wiped his younger sister Miyu's hair with a towel as he always did after her bath, and dried it with a hair dryer.

The low sound of the wind. Beyond that, Toma's voice from that day echoed in his mind.

—Even while acting cool, working part-time every day—

Amaru let out a small breath as he stared at his own hands.

“...I’m sorry for being such a weak brother. For your sake and Mom’s, I need to become stronger.”

Suddenly, those words slipped out of his mouth.

Miyu turned around with a blank look on her face. Then, she said without hesitation,

“Why do you have to be strong? You’re kind, Big Brother. I’m fine with you just the way you are.”

At those words, Amaru caught his breath.

He turned off the hair dryer. In the quiet air that followed, Amaru gave a small laugh.

“...You’re right. I wonder why I feel like I have to be strong.”

Miyu picked up her manga as usual and crawled into her futon. Amaru just watched her small back in silence.

In the quiet night air, he gently closed his eyes. What came to mind were the lyrics he had been spitting out all this time.

——“I’m the main character”

——“This chain is gold”

——“This voice is worth more than anyone else’s”

Words he had always shouted to sound strong, confident, and never show weakness. And then, those words he had sent to Toma surfaced from deep within his chest.

——No matter who the opponent is, just be yourself. Be T-Mart.He felt as if those words were meant for him right now. He gently lifted his head.In the quiet of the night, for the first time, Amaru looked straight at himself.——

A few days later, an announcement appeared on his social media timeline.

《Sengoku MC BATTLE 2 on 2 in KT Zepp Yokohama to be held》

A tag-team match gathering famous MCs invited from all over the country. It was one of the largest-scale tournaments, held only a few times a year.

And this time, the right to participate would be granted to the winner and runner-up of the High School Rap Championship.

In other words, T-Mart and AMARU.

Upon learning that fact, Amaru picked up his smartphone and, for the first time in a while, called Toma.The phone rang a few times.

...Hello?

What I heard was Toma's voice, unchanged.

Do you know about the Sengoku tournament? Why don't we enter together?

A short silence.

...Sorry. I'm done with rap. It wasn't for me. I don't want to cause any more trouble for my parents...

Hearing those words, his mother, who was in the kitchen, suddenly gasped.

Closing his eyes quietly, Amaru says.

...Even so, I'm waiting. I want to bet on this chance. It's meaningless if it's not with you.

After hanging up, Amaru finished the entry for both of them without hesitation. -- In front of Machida Station in the evening.

Under a sky that was beginning to grow dim, small illuminations lit up the street trees, and people passing by walked with their faces buried in their scarves.

Toma, in his school uniform, walked through the crowd of people returning from cram school, as if avoiding the waves. He kept his noise-canceling headphones on without playing any music. His gaze remained fixed on the ground.

...Oh, T-Mart.

When he looked up at the voice that had suddenly called out to him, he saw Big G a little way ahead.

You haven't been coming around lately at all. What's up?

...Oh, no. I've just been a bit busy with entrance exams.

As Toma started to say this while taking off his headphones, Big G cut him off.

But you're entering Sengoku, right? I saw the flyer.

...I, well...

You've become famous in the blink of an eye, haven't you? I can't keep up with this.

He laughed jokingly and tapped Toma lightly on the shoulder.

“I’m the one who trained you first, you know? Make sure you say that when you get asked in an interview.”

He paused for a beat, lowering his tone just a little.

“...Well, good luck. You’re the representative of Machida Cypher, after all. You’ll be fine.”

Toma just watched Big G’s back as he turned and walked away. Yet, somewhere in his heart, he felt something that had been frozen beginning to melt, little by little.

——

His feet, heading toward the station, suddenly stopped. Toma found himself wandering toward “RAW DEAL,” the hip-hop select shop in front of the station that Amaru had taken him to before.

It wasn’t that he wanted to buy anything.
He just found his feet naturally drawn there, as if pulled by a magnet.

A low, pleasant beat was playing inside the store. Colorful caps, sneakers, and posters lined the walls, and Toma stared at the posters absentmindedly.

“——T-Mart, right? It’s been a while. You did great at the High School Rap Championship.”

Turning toward the voice, he saw MAR, the shop owner, smiling gently from behind the counter. It was a calm, soft voice that seemed to see right through everything.

“...I’m sorry. It feels like I’m betraying Amaru...”

As he said this, looking down, MAR gave a light laugh and replied.

“Well, maybe so.
But——he’s got his own share of the blame for that, doesn’t he?”

He said this, meeting his gaze gently across the counter.

“Haven’t you been rapping lately?”

“...No.”

The questioning voice was neither accusing nor encouraging; it was just quiet. In that softness, Toma couldn’t help but open up, as if spilling what was deep in his chest.

“...Everyone else has something they’re carrying, words they need to speak. But I’m just ordinary, I have nothing...”

MAR smiled faintly.

“You’re free to envy other people’s ‘circumstances’ if you want—but the people being envied don’t have it easy, you know.”

...I suppose you're right.

Nobody wants to be in an environment like that by choice. But... I understand how you feel, thinking that way.

MAR walked quietly to the turntable and flipped the record. As he dropped the needle, a light crackle was followed by a soft, gentle sound that filled the room.

Words aren't something you find that easily. That's exactly why... when you do find them, they really resonate.

Toma quietly chewed on those words.

Anyway, having fun. Enjoy yourself. That's where it starts.

MAR said that casually and smiled.

I left the shop and put my earphones in. I played the new song by the rapper whose poster I had seen in MAR's shop earlier on my smartphone. As I walked through the city at night, I felt like I had managed to exhale just a little bit of the heaviness that had been building up deep inside my chest.

My steps felt just a little bit lighter than they had before.

—The day of the competition, Saturday evening.

Toma was wearing his school blazer over his hoodie, getting ready to head to cram school as usual. In his backpack were his workbooks, his smartphone, and his pencil case. The same weight, the same daily routine.

As he was putting on his shoes at the entrance, his mother's voice suddenly reached him from behind.

...Are you really sure about this?

His hand stopped.

Studying is important, of course. But... I just don't want you to have any regrets.

His mother said nothing more and quietly continued clearing the table. The sound of her voice, slightly different from usual, soaked deep into his chest as if it were gently pushing him forward.

Toma opened the front door in silence. A cold wind brushed against his cheeks. Yet, contrary to that chill, he felt a warmth spreading deep inside his body.

Before he knew it, his pace had naturally quickened. And then, he started running.

His destination was not the cram school.

KT Zepp Yokohama.

Chapter 10: Bring The Beat

Registration for the contestants had already begun at the venue.

Amaru finished registration alone and calmly completed the mic check during rehearsals.
He had been prepared in the back of his mind for his partner not to show up.
He had decided that even if no one came, he would do it alone.

As a result of the draw, their opponents were decided to be the formidable duo SPICE KID & Hui, who had won numerous national-level tournaments.

Both were MCs who had crawled up from the underground scene and already established their names. Their mere presence had enough intensity to change the atmosphere of the venue.

It would be a lie to say he wasn't anxious.
He knew all too well that the odds were completely against them.
He knew that painfully well.

As the tournament progressed, the voltage in the venue continued to rise.

Cheers, beats, and sharply delivered punchlines.
The excitement of the audience surged even into the waiting room.
Every time he was exposed to that heat, a crushing pressure gradually weighed down on Amaru's chest.

Next, T-Mart & AMARU.

When his name was called, Amaru took a quiet breath and stood up, as if to suppress the slight hesitation remaining deep in his heart.
He couldn't blame anyone; everything was up to him.
Telling himself this, he slowly walked toward the stage. Just then.

Sorry, I'm late!

The door to the waiting room swung open, and Toma rushed in.
He stood there, breathing heavily, wearing a school blazer over his hoodie.

That outfit...

Amaru let out a soft laugh and shook his head.

That's more like you.

Toma, catching his breath, looked straight at Amaru and said.

About that time, I'm sorry...

What do you mean by 'that time'?

Amaru replied, feigning ignorance, and allowed a slight smile to touch his lips.

Even without saying anything, it had come across clearly.

The heart, taut with tension and loneliness, suddenly begins to loosen.
With just one word, in just one moment, a quiet and certain atmosphere is born between the two.

They exchange glances and nod at each other in silence.
Then, the two begin to walk side by side.

Their footsteps slowly, one by one, began to overlap.

——

In the crowded venue, Rizzy moved her head, searching for an angle where she could see the stage well, while nearly being pushed by the surrounding audience.
Beside her, the tall Marlboro stared straight ahead with an indifferent expression.

"T-Mart... do you think he'll really come?"

Marlboro suddenly muttered.
Rizzy replied immediately, her expression still stern.

"If he makes AMARU fight alone—I really won't forgive him this time."

"But, you know, since you pressed him so hard, Rizzy... he might find it hard to show up, right?"

Rizzy glared at Marlboro, who spoke in a teasing tone. But her gaze quickly returned to the stage.

"…But, will he be okay, suddenly facing the favorites to win?"

Marlboro's voice sounded a little uneasy.
Rizzy replied instantly, cutting him off.

"Of course he'll be okay! It's AMARU!"

She clenched her fist tightly.
Even though her voice was defiant, it had a ring to it that sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

At that moment, the tournament MC's voice rang out.

"The next match is—T-Mart & AMARU vs. SPICE KID & Fui!"

The floor erupted all at once.
The lights flashed brilliantly, and first, AMARU appeared from the side of the stage.

Then, Toma, wearing his school uniform and a hoodie, also appeared after a brief pause, as if following him.

"Oh, he's here! Thank goodness, T-Mart is there!"

Beside Marlboro, who had spoken out in surprise, Rizzy also widened her eyes.

"…What is that look? So lame… seriously, give it a rest."

Her voice as she muttered this wasn't as sharp as her tone suggested.
A hint of relief appeared on her face.

And then.

"Go!! AMARU! T-Mart!!"

Marlboro shouted at the top of his lungs, in a way he never usually would.

"Crush them!!"

Rizzy raised her voice just as loudly, thrusting her fist into the air.

Their voices had certainly reached the stage.

——

Amidst the surging heat of the venue, Toma and Amaru stood under the lights, quietly gripping their microphones.
Their heartbeats synced with the rhythm, and waves of cheers washed over them. Feeling that pressure on their skin, the two exchanged a brief glance.

Standing side-by-side on stage like this was a first since the finals of that high school rap championship.

Back then, they had been facing each other.
Now, they stood shoulder-to-shoulder, facing the same direction.

They were no longer the people they had been back then.
It wasn't that they had practiced specifically or that their rapping had improved dramatically.
Even so, something had definitely changed.

In that brief moment their eyes met.
Even without words, they both felt it.

The MC stood in the center and raised his voice.

"Alright, first up—beat check!"

The DJ placed his hands on the turntable.
A heavy, undulating beat rang out, and with a shout of "Nice DJ!", the floor shook violently.

"Going first—SPICE KID & Fui! Going second—T-Mart & AMARU!"

Just hearing their names called made the floor erupt.
Cheers and expectations, the heat they had built up swirled together, and the entire venue was wrapped in an exhilaration on the verge of exploding.

"8 bars, 2 rounds!"

A roar of voices surged up.
The floor trembled, and their heartbeats responded to the heat.

"DJ! Bring the beat!"

The sound erupted like fire.

First up: SPICE KID & Fui

SPICE KID darts out with light, nimble steps.
A sharp, high-pitched voice tears through the air.

"Showing up at the last minute, who do you think you are?
That lame uniform and that hoodie,
Dressed like a loser, go back to school,
What are you even doing here now?"

The floor buzzes with excitement.
Without missing a beat, Fui presses the attack with a low, heavy voice.

"Representatives of Kora? Don't make me laugh.
You don't belong here.
Instead of rapping, go work a part-time job somewhere,
—you'd make a lot more money that way!"

Laughter and cheers. The atmosphere was beginning to tilt completely in favor of SPICE KID and his partner.

But, as if to cut through that momentum, Amaru stepped forward.

"What's wrong with making money at a part-time job?
My mother is just recovering from illness,
Standing on the roadside covered in mud every day,
That's how I live, turning pebbles into diamonds!"

A murmur runs through the crowd. The audience's reaction is slowly shifting toward them.

Toma immediately follows up.

"That's right, I was scared and shaking,
I didn't want to get hurt, and I didn't want to hurt anyone else,
But I'm going to lay it all out, my raw reality,
The strongest tag team is born right here!"

"Ohhh!" the floor roars.
Marlboro pumps his fist in the air.

With those straightforward words, the mood of the audience begins to change.
Their voices were reaching them directly.

Round 2: SPICE KID & Fui

They go first again.
Ignoring Toma and his partner's first round entirely, SPICE KID lashes out with words, his intensity like a scolding.

"If you run away even once, it's over.
If you lose to yourself, that's as far as you go.
Your 'reality' is nothing but child's play,
We're putting our lives on the line here!"

Next, Fui lets his menacing bass resonate.
Heavy, forceful, as if to pin his opponent down.

"Looking for sympathy? Keep your pathetic excuses.
This is a battle, not some emotional porn!
What I demand is resolve and skill,
I'll hang the ones who don't measure up, one by one!"

The sharpness was real.
The atmosphere was about to be pushed back again.

But Amaru steps forward.
He lifts his head, looks them straight in the eye, and declares firmly, as if he has made up his mind.

"Bring it on. I don't want your pity.
Turning sorrow into a weapon is what HIPHOP is about.
Rather than being someone's second-rate copy, I'd rather be unfinished.
We choose to grab the top spot!"

The words Amaru spat out shook Toma's chest.

"Go!" Rizzy's voice rang out, and
Toma gripped the mic tightly and stepped forward without hesitation.

"I have friends who believe in me,
So I'll definitely keep going, keep pushing on.
A battle I could never win alone,
A dull caterpillar, from today I'm a butterfly!"

Cheers erupted.
The heat of their layered words was definitely reaching the hearts of the audience.

"Time's up!"

The MC's voice echoed through the mic, and the cheers turned into an even more explosive heat that enveloped the floor.

Breathing heavily, Toma looked to his side.
Amaru nodded quietly, just a little.
In his eyes, there was a sense of accomplishment that went beyond words.

——

Marlboro in the audience kept his fists clenched, tears welling up in his eyes, unable to take his gaze off the stage.

"...Amazing, you two are truly amazing..."

His trembling voice told the story of how deeply his heart had been shaken.

"They did it! They did it, right!? They definitely did it!"

Rizzy said excitedly, tapping Marlboro on the shoulder repeatedly.

The MC gripped the mic again.

"Now, it's time for the decision! Please raise your hands and voices for the one you think won!"

The floor fell silent.

For a moment, all sound faded away, a silence so deep it felt like even breathing had stopped.

"First up—SPICE KID & Fui!"

Scattered applause and cheers rose up.

"Second up—T-Mart & AMARU!"

The next moment.
Cheers erupted, and the entire venue was enveloped in a heat that seemed to make it tremble.

Toma just stared at the scene.

Heat welled up from deep within his chest, and a sensation that made even his fingertips tremble began to spread.
This was neither a coincidence nor a miracle. It was a victory they had seized for themselves.

At that moment.

Beside him, Amaru quietly held out a fist.

When Toma noticed, he smiled and responded to that fist without hesitation.

The two fists collided firmly.

In that instant, as if raining down upon them, an even louder roar of cheers erupted from the audience.

"We did it!! We really did it!!"

Rizzy shouted, unable to contain her excitement.

"I'm so glad... I'm truly so glad."

Marlboro let the words slip out quietly, as if savoring the joy.

Amidst the massive vortex of excitement that had been whipped up,
Toma and Amaru stood there, undeniably, in the dazzling lights.