It was five o'clock in the morning, the sun had yet to fully rise. In the courtyard of the apartment over which fog hung.
A boy wearing a reddish-brown jersey was vigorously exercising with a tree branch in his hand.
He moved at a speed that could be called the limit of human's brain. The boy freely danced in the courtyard.
That boy, Kusanagi Takeru scattered sweat while chasing the shadow of an imaginary enemy.
The enemy were five people. The Hero whom he fought before, the King Arthur's movements were reproduced in his head."
Enemy's movement speed, speed of his attacks, pressure of his slashes, he avoided and repelled enemy's attacks.
He was made of flesh and blood. He couldn't allow his opponent to land a single blow on him.
Again and again, he endlessly returned the blows to the enemy.
Of course, he released the technique allowing him to control the brain limits, the Soumatou.
He had dropped the effect to minimum, but the exhaustion and load on the body was tremendous. It was a discipline he had repeated many times before but neglected ever since the beginning of high school. He resumed the training after confirming its necessity.
Repeating it ever since young age until middle school, he tried hard enough to cough blood.
But, it wasn't enough. It was nowhere near enough.
Swinging down the sword with his entire body's force, he made a crack on Hero's head. Intending to forge himself, Takeru's body was gradually motivated by anger.
His anger was bleeding from the edge of his sword, Hero's limbs disappeared because of his disturbed spirit, they were no longer there. However, another shadow appeared in front of him.
It was flickering, it held a small sword, it grinned, it laughed.
『"You're too shallow——!"』
It appeared abruptly, took everything from Mari. Took his comrade, Kyouya, and killed Yoshimizu, he was in front of him.
Something burst inside Takeru.
He swung down with his sharpened sword, cutting him from above.
Straight, into the child of despair, into Haunted's brain——
Suddenly called, Takeru returned to normal.
Light returned to his pitch-black surroundings, a landscape covered with morning mist entered his vision.
And, standing beneath his blade, was Lapis who held a towel in her hand.
"...you started quite harshly haven't you?"
Lapis tilted her head like usual and asked blandly.
Takeru withdrew the wooden sword in a hurry and bowed.
"S-sorry, my bad. I didn't notice you. I didn't hit you... did I? Are you alright?"
"There's no problem. There's not a single wound in the spot flesh and blood Host has hit."
"No, that's not it. I'm really sorry."
He placed his hands on his head and bowed down again.