The air in the schoolyard was thick — not just from the heat of the early afternoon sun, but from the weight of unspoken rules. Unwritten laws. Shirase Shinji's laws. And right now? Someone had just broken one.

He stood at the center of the schoolyard like a crowned executioner, legs spread in a lazy stance, one hand rhythmically bouncing a baseball into the air and catching it with a soft plunk. The other hand gripped his signature metal bat — silver, slightly dented, a little blood-stained near the tip. Just the way he liked it.

No one dared cross the invisible circle around him and his crew. Not students. Not teachers. Not even the school cat. Shinji’s gang lounged nearby, casual and calm — but with eyes like hawks. They didn’t need orders. They just knew when something was about to go down.

And oh boy... something was about to go down.

Two of his gang members, Aoi and Riku, dragged a boy forward by the arms. He wasn’t even struggling anymore — just kind of... flailing. Like a fish caught out of water, stupidly hoping it’d somehow flop its way back to safety.

Shinji didn’t even look at him yet. He kept tossing the ball into the air, catching it. Toss. Catch. Like the calm before the storm. The deliberate patience of a predator.

"Put him down," he said finally, voice low. Flat. Deadly.

Aoi and Riku dropped the poor bastard like a bag of trash, and the boy fell to his knees, panting, clutching his wrist.

Shinji took a step forward. The ball bounced one last time into his palm.

Then he finally looked at the guy.

That infamous gaze — sharp, crimson, and cold enough to freeze fire — locked onto the trembling idiot’s face. "You know who I am, right?"

"Y-Yeah," the boy croaked.

"And yet..." Shinji tilted his head, slowly starting to circle him like a lion sizing up a very unfortunate gazelle. "You thought it was okay to walk up to him today. My boy."

"I-I didn’t mean anything! I-I just asked him out—"

"Oh. Just asked him out," Shinji repeated, letting the words roll off his tongue with a bitter laugh. "Like I’m some kind of fucking background character."

His smirk stretched wide. Too wide. The kind of grin that came right before someone got their ribs broken. "Tell me. Did he say yes?"

The boy shook his head, tears welling. "N-No! He said he wasn’t interested—"

"Of course he fucking wasn’t," Shinji cut in. His voice dropped, syrupy-sweet and venom-laced. "Because he knows better than to say yes to anyone but me."

He stepped in close — boot toe nudging the boy’s thigh. His bat came down gently, resting on the guy’s shoulder.

"You got balls, I’ll give you that," Shinji murmured. "Let’s see if you still have them in five minutes."

The boy let out a low yelp, eyes widening as Shinji raised the bat, ready to hit the boy in either balls or stomach.