The grandeur of the Judgment Hall stood untouched by time—massive, solemn pilrs stretching endlessly upward, as if holding the heavens in pce. The obsidian floor shimmered like a bck mirror, catching the flicker of light and the cold stares of the Elders seated above.

  The air hung heavy.

  Not just with pressure.

  But with panic.

  Koharu sat at the side, alone in the Captain’s corner, watching the Elders unravel.

  “You mean to tell me this was them pying around?!”

  “Half the Gomōnban was wrecked!”

  “This isn’t the same Kegare we’ve faced before. This Shingan… he has no dignity!”

  Their voices rose, overpping. Dignity had turned to fear. Order to doubt.

  Koharu clenched her fists.

  This wouldn’t be a problem if they had just accepted my request…But of course, they never listen.

  She barely noticed the footsteps approaching—until a familiar voice cut through the noise like a bde through silence.

  “Whew. Even after all these years, you still can’t suppress your aura when you’re angry. How violent.”

  Koharu turned her head slowly

  Standing in front of her, was a man with messy blond hair, half-lidded eyes, and a smug half-smile that never quite went away. He wore his shinsei gai loose, his coat draped zily over his shoulders. There was a sharpness behind his id-back look—an edge that hadn’t dulled with time.

  Her eyes widened.

  Haruka Kobayashi.

  Captain of the Kyūmonban.

  The man tied to her greatest mistake.

  Koharu’s aura fred out, uncontrolled. Her emotions surged, memories flooding in—his demotion, her silence, the bme she swallowed alone.

  “Woah now,” Haruka chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Did seeing me really make it worse? I don’t know what I could’ve done in the st thirty years but… sorry?”

  She took a breath. Deep. Controlled. Her aura dimmed.

  “No… my apologies. That was rude of me. You caught me at a bad time, Captain.”

  He smirked, “I thought old people were supposed to go senile.” he said, nodding up toward the Elders.“But it seems to me they’ve just gone insane.”

  Koharu exhaled, then looked up with him. Her voice dropped low.

  “They don’t know how to handle the Kegare… I thought I could make them listen. I really believed I could sway them, but…”

  She scoffed softly.

  “Stubbornness is carved into their bones.”

  She paused.

  “You told me I could be better and look at me now—I’m a shame to the Chūkan… and to the Jumōnban.”

  She lowered her head.

  Haruka didn’t speak immediately.

  Then—he chuckled.

  “A shame, huh?”

  His ugh grew louder, almost amused by the weight of her words.

  “You really haven’t changed.”

  He stepped beside her, folding his arms behind his head like he was rexing in a hot spring. Then he gnced up at the Elders.

  “So let me get this straight. The Kegare attack the Gomōnban… and just before that, the Fifth Division conveniently sends all their members out on a ‘training mission’? And the Kegare leave no casualties behind?”“That sound like their usual style to you?”

  Koharu whistled innocently, eyes to the ceiling.

  Haruka ughed again, louder this time.“They might be too stubborn to see what’s happening…” “But I see it, Koharu. All of it.”

  She sighed.

  He looked at her from the corner of his eye.

  “You got denied. You made a squad anyway.” “And if it wasn’t for that squad, who knows what would’ve happened at the Fifth.” “The gate could’ve fallen entirely.”

  He leaned back. “Last thing I see is a shame of a captain.” “I see someone who did what was right—because it was right.”

  Koharu let the words settle. Then nodded.“This squad… these new warriors… they have potential.”

  Haruka smiled. “Yeah, I figured. Three of my own squad haven’t reported in for months. I assumed you had something to do with it.”

  Her expression dropped. “I was going to ask for permission but… after what happened back then—” She stopped. Bit her lip.

  Haruka cut her off gently. “My decision to use a forbidden technique was mine. Not yours.” “A kid like you shouldn’t carry that weight. It’s not yours to bear.”

  He paused.

  “You said you weren’t strong enough… but that Reibaku on your back?” “It’s not fully resonating.” He pointed upward. “Because that’s not your real Reibaku.”

  Koharu’s eyes widened.

  “It’s up there, isn’t it? Sealed away… above the Chūkan.” “A Reibaku so powerful, the air needs to contain it.”

  Haruka smirked. “That doesn’t sound like weakness to me.” He reached out and ruffled her hair like she was still a trainee.

  Koharu scoffed, half-smiling. “Treating the Captain of the Jumōnban this way… That should be grounds for expulsion.”

  Haruka grinned. “I already dodged that once. Let’s not test fate.” And for the first time in the Judgment Hall—

  Koharu ughed. A real, honest ugh.

  Then she looked back up at the Elders.

  “You know… this squad of mine would benefit a lot from learning some Tenkai techniques.”

  Haruka stretched his arms. “Yeah, yeah. You don’t need to ask. I owe Kaito especially.” “Kid’s known I’ve been hiding it from him. I was pnning to teach them anyway.”

  Koharu nodded, grateful.

  The camera pans back up to the Elders.

  Their bickering had shifted. Something had changed.

  “If they strike again… will we be able to stop it?”

  “Perhaps the Jumōnban Captain was right.”

  “We must make a decision.”

  The hall grew silent. And finally—A verdict.

  “From this day forth, in all matters concerning the Kegare… our warriors have full reign.” “Forms. Reibakus. Techniques.” “From Captains to rookies. The Kegare are preparing for war…..”

  “So we must prepare as well.”

  CUT TO BLACK.