Oga Tatsumi stood in the bathroom of his house, water steaming as the pipes rattled. He tugged his shirt over his head, his muscles twitching with residual irritation. The events of the past few days played on loop in his skull—Beel feverish, clinging to Kogen, Toujo acting like some damn stand-in father, and that stupid scene burned into his memory of Toujo's big hand resting around Kogen's waist like he owned her. Every time that image came back, Oga's jaw clenched and his teeth ground together loud enough to echo against the tiles.
He turned on the shower, scalding water rushing out, mist hitting his face.
"Take a shower before you go to Tojo," Lamia's words echoed in his head. That little brat had said it flatly, with her usual poisonous glare, like she already knew he'd get his ass kicked if he showed up sweaty and distracted.
Oga snorted. "Tch. Like I'm gonna lose."
Still, he obeyed. The shower hissed, running hot down his back. He scrubbed hard, like the water could erase the agitation twisting in his chest. What did Lamia know anyway? She wasn't the one who had to watch someone else try to step into his spot, acting like Beel wasn't his kid. Acting like Kogen—damn it, why was he even involved in this mess? He hadn't asked him to get tangled up with Toujo, hadn't asked him to hold Beel like that, hadn't asked him to...
He stopped. Scowled. His fists curled, soap sliding down his arms.
"What the hell am I even thinking?" he muttered. "It doesn't matter. I'm gonna go over there and end this."
That was the plan. Beat the crap out of Toujo, take Beel back, and remind everyone—including himself—that he was Beel's one and only parent figure, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
Just as he was rinsing his hair, something flickered in the fogged glass of the bathroom window. A shadow. A silhouette standing outside.
Oga froze. Soap clung to his face, his eyes narrowing. His first thought was Lamia, peeping like a little creep to see if he'd actually listened to her advice.
"Oi," he barked, shoving the window open a crack, hot steam pouring out. "If that's you, I'll drown you in here, got it?!"
The figure jumped, startled. Not Lamia's child-sized glare at all. Instead, Shiroyama's dumb, panicked face appeared on the other side of the window.
"W-Wait! Don't drown me, Oga-san!" Shiroyama stammered, holding up his hands like Oga had a knife instead of shampoo. "We—uh—we need you. Right now. Urgent business!"
"...Shiroyama?" Oga blinked, annoyed. "What the hell are you doing outside my bathroom window?"
"It's—it's complicated! Kanzaki-san and Himekawa-san told me to fetch you. They said it's about Toujo!"
At that, Oga stopped mid-rinse. His scowl deepened. "Tch. Those idiots again?"
"Yes, but they're serious this time!" Shiroyama said, his glasses fogging up in the steam. "They—they want to team up with you! To take down Toujo!"
Oga let the words hang in the hot air. Kanzaki and Himekawa... teaming up with him? The very thought was absurd. Those two were obsessed with their stupid schemes, usually ones that blew up in their own faces. But if Toujo was involved, maybe there was something useful in it.
"...Fine," Oga muttered, shutting the water off. "Wait outside. And if you peek in here again, I'll shove your head through the wall."
Shiroyama squeaked and scrambled away.
By the time Oga stepped outside, towel draped around his neck, Shiroyama was pacing nervously on the street. He nearly tripped over himself when Oga shoved open the door.
"Where are they?" Oga asked.
"At the usual place! Kanzaki-san said he had... uh... an elaborate strategy prepared. Himekawa even brought charts."
Oga sighed. This was going to be a headache.
At a dingy warehouse nearby, Kanzaki and Himekawa waited, looking absurdly smug despite their bruises. Kanzaki was cracking his knuckles like he owned the city block, while Himekawa was adjusting his ridiculous pompadour and smirking as if victory was already theirs.
"Took you long enough, Oga!" Kanzaki barked, hands on his hips. "We've been waiting!"
"I was in the shower," Oga said flatly.
"...In the shower?" Kanzaki repeated, glancing at Himekawa. "This guy's priorities are all wrong. We're about to go to war and he's washing his hair?"
"At least he looks refreshed," Himekawa said smoothly, waving a folder full of papers. "Anyway. Down to business."
He spread the folder open on a crate, revealing charts, maps of Ishiyama, and a crude drawing of Toujo with devil horns scribbled on.
"We've decided," Himekawa said, puffing his chest. "In order to stop Toujo, we must ally with you. For once, we set aside differences. Our combined strength will crush him."
"Yeah!" Kanzaki added, slamming his fist into his palm. "We'll show that muscle-brained freak who's boss!"
Oga stared at them. "...You two got beat by me like twenty times. What makes you think you're worth teaming up with?"
Kanzaki bristled. "Tch! Don't underestimate us! We've gotten stronger too!"
Himekawa smirked. "Besides, think of us as... distractions. Toujo won't see it coming if we attack together."
Oga's lip twitched. They were idiots. But idiots with a grudge against Toujo could be useful, at least as shields.
"...Fine," he said finally, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "But don't get in my way. If you do, I'll beat you down myself."
Kanzaki grinned. "Hah! That's the spirit!"
Shiroyama cheered half-heartedly in the background.
The four of them set out toward Ishiyama High, the streets buzzing with rumor. Word had spread fast: Toujo had taken Beel. Toujo had claimed Kogen as his own. Toujo was going to crush anyone who stood in his way. By the time Oga and his mismatched crew hit the main street, a swarm of delinquents had gathered.
"Oi, there he is!" one thug shouted. "That's Oga Tatsumi!"
"Take him down before he reaches Toujo!" another barked.
The crowd closed in, fists and pipes raised. Easily fifty of them. Maybe more.
Shiroyama whimpered. Kanzaki and Himekawa squared up, trying to look braver than they felt. Oga, on the other hand, cracked his neck, his eyes glinting with something almost eager.
"Finally," he muttered. "Been needing to hit something all day."
The first thug lunged. Oga's fist met his jaw before he even finished swinging, sending him crashing into three others. Another charged with a metal pipe—Oga ripped it out of his hands and bent it in half, then used it like a bat to send two more flying.
"Y-You bastard!" someone shrieked.
The street erupted into chaos. Kanzaki threw a wild punch, knocking one guy into a dumpster. Himekawa gave a sharp kick, his pompadour bouncing as he yelled about "refined fighting styles."
But most of the carnage came from Oga. He tore through the crowd like a storm, each punch, kick, and throw leaving bodies groaning on the pavement. His face was set, his fury bubbling closer to the surface with every blow. This wasn't just about delinquents anymore—it was about Toujo's smug face, Toujo's hand on Kogen's waist, Toujo daring to act like Beel wasn't his.
The last thug tried to crawl away. Oga stomped beside his head, cracking the concrete. The guy fainted instantly.
When the dust settled, fifty delinquents lay scattered, groaning, some piled on top of each other like garbage bags.
Shiroyama peeked out from behind a lamppost. "...He... he did it again. He wiped out all of them."
"Tch. Show-off," Kanzaki muttered, though his voice wavered with awe.
"Efficient, at least," Himekawa sighed, fixing his hair.
Oga didn't bother to respond. He just shoved his hands back in his pockets and walked forward, eyes set on Ishiyama High in the distance.
When they arrived at the school gates, the entire student body seemed to be waiting. Dozens upon dozens of delinquents filled the courtyard, glaring, shouting, blocking the path.
"Don't step further, Oga!" someone barked. "You're not taking Toujo down!"
Oga scowled. He was ready to start cracking skulls again—until a voice rang out across the courtyard.
"Out of the way."
The crowd shifted. From behind, Kunieda Aoi strode forward, bokken in hand, her Red Tail girls flanking her like an army. Their uniforms fluttered, their eyes sharp.
"This is our fight," Kunieda declared, glaring at the boys in front. "If you've got a problem, take it up with us."
The Red Tails surged, overwhelming the Ishiyama boys in an instant. Fists, kicks, wooden swords—every move was sharp and disciplined. Oga paused, blinking in mild surprise as the girls tore through the crowd like a whirlwind.
Kunieda planted herself in front of him, her expression calm but her cheeks tinged the faintest red. "Go. We'll handle this. You just focus on Toujo."
Oga grunted. "...Hmph. Fine."
With the Red Tails clearing the way, Oga and his unlikely allies marched through the gates. Kanzaki muttered about how unfair it was that Kunieda got all the glory, while Himekawa looked thrilled at the distruction. Shiroyama just trailed nervously behind.
The rooftop of Ishiyama High glowed faintly in the night. Oga stepped out onto it, only to be met with an unexpected sight: fireworks shooting into the sky. Bright colors exploded overhead—red, blue, gold—lighting up the schoolyard.
The delinquents below, even those who had been fighting moments earlier, froze in awe. Their mouths hung open, faces bathed in the glow.
On the far side of the rooftop stood Toujo, his massive frame illuminated by the bursts of color. In his arms was Beel, feverish but wide-eyed at the lights. Beside him, Kogen stood uncertain, her face softened by the crackle of the fireworks.
"Figured the brat needed cheering up," Toujo said casually, looking over at Oga. "And look. It worked. He's smiling."
Beel let out a weak laugh, tiny hands reaching at the sparks in the sky.
Oga's chest tightened. Damn Toujo. Damn him for thinking he could just step into his role like this.
"You ready to hand them over?" Oga said flatly, his voice carrying over the rooftop.
Toujo shrugged. "Depends. Whoever Beel wants to stay with—that's up to him, right?"
The fireworks popped louder. The air buzzed with tension. Oga's fists curled. The stage was set.
And in that moment, Oga knew—this wasn't just about Beel. It wasn't just about Toujo. This was about proving, once and for all, who he really was.
The rooftop trembled with anticipation, fireworks painting the battlefield for the fight to come.