The punch landed before Renji even realized Hayato had moved.
He didn't think Hayato would punch him in that moment.
A blunt shock cracked along his jaw and his knees slammed into the snow.
He forced his body to move on memory alone—rolling, flipping back, opening space between them.
Renji's vision sharpened—the world slowed and his eyes turned into dark crimson.
Stage Five.
Renji thought;
"He wasn't holding back.
That punch…
My boy almost broke my jaw.
If I hadn't raised my flame at that exact heartbeat…"
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes narrowing.
"Hayato… you hit harder than a boar."
Renji used to drill Hayato's right side because it was the boy's blind spot.
And his last attack had been planned with that flaw in mind.
But now?
That cursed eye... it actually sees.
Renji recalled the shock he felt when he saw Fifth Flame in the cursed eye when he'd thrown the daggers.
He didn't show it to Hayato.
But this—this was something else entirely.
The dead eye had awakened.
Renji clicked his tongue.
'Leaving my second katana behind… might've been the worst idea today.'"
Still kneeling, Renji let out a slow breath.
"Hayato… are you okay?
You're new to this stage.
If it starts burning from the inside, don't try to endure it. Say something."
"Renji…"
Hayato's voice was low.
Unshaken.
"I feel good."
Renji warned him.
"Breathe. Or the flame eats you.
Don't push yourself.
There is no meaning if you win anyway."
"There is," Hayato said quietly.
"Redemption."
Renji raised himself up from the ground, wiping the blood from his mouth.
"I understand… Then come, boy. Let's finish this."
His back-flip hadn't been random—Renji had angled it so he'd land right beside the fallen blades.
A single kick launched both swords upward.
He caught them with ease,
then tossed Hayato's katana toward him—eyes never leaving Hayato's face.
Hayato caught the blade as naturally as taking a breath—eyes never leaving Renji's face.
Both of them were standing at Fifth Flame—Stage Five, their eyes perfectly matched.
But Flame didn't make fighters identical—
it only amplified what was already there.
Equal power. Unequal nature.
At the same stage,
Hayato was stronger and tougher than Renji.
Renji was faster and sharper than Hayato.
The moment Hayato lunged, the world lurched forward.
Renji caught the first strike—then the second, then the third—
but each time he deflected a blow, Hayato was already coming in from a new angle.
The force behind every swing was sharper, heavier, far more deliberate than before.
Steel flashed in a relentless cascade.
A cut from the left—Renji met it with a counterstrike.
Hayato parried without slowing.
A probing feint to the right—footwork shifting, stance changing,
testing Renji's guard with merciless precision.
The tempo only climbed.
Renji grit his teeth, a low curse rumbling in his chest.
"This pace… it's wrong.
If he keeps this up, the flame will tear him apart before I ever touch him.
But the boy did not slow.
Not even for a heartbeat."
Renji felt a strange warmth bloom in his chest—a fierce, reluctant pride.
Hayato was pushing him harder than anyone had in a decade.
Then something changed.
The next strike came with no tell—not a twitch, not a shift of breath,
Renji blocked on instinct, steel screeching against steel.
Hayato didn't react.
Another blow.
Another—each one colder than the last.
Each one identical, stripped of hesitation.
His eyes didn't blink.
His jaw didn't tense.
His breathing didn't stutter.
This was wrong.
Deeply, dangerously wrong.
"Hayato!" he barked between clashes.
"Hayato, look at me!"
No answer.
Every parry echoed the same rhythm,
as if the boy's instincts had devoured his consciousness
Renji's heartbeat kicked harder.
"Boy—can you hear me?"
Hayato advanced again, movement fluid yet soulless.
His stance no longer belonged to a swordsman.
Renji barely caught the next strike.
"Hayato! BREATHE!" he roared, voice cracking.
"If you don't take control, the flame will eat you alive!"
But the boy's face was empty.
Renji's breath hitched as he caught the next glimpse of Hayato's face.
"What… what the hell is that?" he whispered.
Renji's voice dropped into a whisper he didn't intend to speak aloud:
"His eyes—
why are they turning… pitch black?"