The next morning, the school felt quieter than usual.
The sun had just risen, and the cafeteria was starting to fill up. But something felt off—Robinson was nowhere to be seen.
Zashiro sat by the window, quietly unwrapping a small bento box with homemade onigiri. His eyes occasionally glanced toward the school gate.
Daryl showed up carrying two bottles of drinks.
He placed one in front of Zashiro and sat down with a sigh.
Zashiro looked over and asked flatly,
"Robinson's not coming in?"
Daryl nodded slowly, eyes on the table.
"Yeah… his mom's surgery is today."
Zashiro gave a small nod, calm as always.
"You going with him?"
Daryl gave a faint smile.
"Yeah. I promised I'd be there."
They sat in silence for a few seconds, the distant noise of other students filling the air.
Zashiro took a bite of his onigiri, then said without looking up,
"He's gonna need you today."
Daryl looked at Zashiro, a little surprised by the genuine tone.
"…I know."
Zashiro stood up, cleaning up his bento and looking up at the sky.
"When you see him… tell him to stop blaming himself so much."
Daryl nodded.
"I will."
Zashiro walked off quietly, while Daryl sat there a moment longer—his mind already shifting toward the hospital, where everything was about to unfold that afternoon.
That afternoon, the sky was overcast as Daryl arrived at the hospital.
He wore a gray hoodie and carried a plastic bag with isotonic drinks and snacks. His steps were quick as he headed to the second-floor waiting room.
There, Robinson sat alone.
His black cap shaded part of his face, eyes blank as he stared out the window. His hands were clenched on his lap, his knee bouncing slightly with unease.
Daryl approached quietly and sat beside him.
"I brought you a drink," he said softly, handing over a bottle.
Robinson glanced over, then took it without a word.
"She's already in surgery?" Daryl asked.
Robinson nodded once.
"Just went in… about twenty minutes ago."
Silence hung between them.
The distant sound of IV machines and doctors' footsteps echoed faintly down the hallway.
Daryl let out a long breath.
"You're strong, man. And so is your mom. She's gonna get through this."
Robinson looked down, then spoke quietly,
"I still can't believe… my dad just showed up, said he'd pay for everything."
He stared at the wall.
"If he could help from the start, why'd I have to go through stealing a car?"
Daryl nodded slightly, thoughtful.
"Sometimes parents think differently. But at least now… you're not alone in this."
Robinson took a deep breath.
"All I want is for my mom to get better. As for my dad… I still don't understand."
Daryl gave his shoulder a reassuring pat.
"No need to figure it all out yet. Just focus on this moment. I got your back."
They sat quietly again.
The hospital's stillness made time crawl—but with Daryl there, things felt a little less heavy.
Elsewhere, Paul was driving a sleek black car down a quiet highway.
Marcus sat in the passenger seat, relaxed, casually scrolling through his phone with a lazy grin.
"Told you, man…" Marcus chuckled. "We need a vacation. Hawaii, beaches, coconut drinks… no garages, no kids."
Paul nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"I wouldn't mind. But Robinson… he's just starting to understand everything."
Marcus glanced over, still grinning. "Your kid's tough. He needs space too. And us? We need ocean vitamins."
They shared a short laugh. The mood felt light.
But then…
Paul's eyes caught something in the rearview mirror.
A black, unmarked car was tailing them—too close.
Paul's smile vanished.
"Check behind us."
Marcus turned to look through the rear window.
His expression shifted instantly. "You recognize that?"
Paul shook his head.
"No. But the way they're following? That's not normal."
The black car kept pace, holding a tight distance. No signals. No license plate. Windows dark.
Marcus reached into the dashboard, opening a hidden compartment.
"If they're looking for trouble, we can return the favor."
Paul pressed the gas, speeding up.
But the black car sped up too—never falling behind.
Marcus muttered,
"I hate this kind of stuff… it feels familiar."
Paul kept his eyes forward, jaw clenched.
"If they're from Zero Divide… this isn't random."
The car surged forward on the open highway.
Streetlights flashed past the windshield as the roar of the engine echoed under the night sky.
Marcus clicked his seatbelt into place and smirked.
"Oh… I like this."
Paul glanced at the rearview mirror. The black car behind them was still there—tight and aggressive. He gave a faint grin and muttered,
"Are you ready?"
Marcus chuckled.
"Always."
Paul slammed the gas. The car responded with a deep growl, the rear tires gripping hard as they launched forward.
The black car behind wasn't giving up.
Its high beams flashed twice—a signal.
Then it accelerated, closing the gap even more.
A challenge.
Paul looked to his right. "Time to shake 'em off."
Marcus rolled down his window slightly, letting the cold wind slap his face. "Let's dance."
Paul swerved into the right lane, then sharply cut left, weaving through two slower vehicles.
The black car mirrored his moves. Like a shadow.
Marcus tapped a hidden button near the center console.
A small control panel slid open, revealing their vehicle mods.
"Boost? Trap? Smoke?" Marcus asked quickly.
Paul replied without looking,
"Boost. If they're still on us, trap."
Marcus hit the switch. Flames burst from the twin exhausts—turbo engaged.
Their car shot forward like a bullet.
But the pursuer kept up, relentless.
"Damn," Marcus muttered. "Whoever that is… they know how to drive."
Paul clenched his jaw.
"Then let's get serious."
The black car behind them began to shift lanes, trying to overtake.
Paul glanced at the left mirror.
"He's going for the outside…"
Marcus leaned forward, eyes sharp.
"Wait… that's… not just one car."
From beneath the overpass shadows, another car emerged—
a dark sedan, no plates, headlights glaring like a predator.
"Damn," Paul muttered. "There's two."
The first car stayed behind, while the second one surged up on the right, forming a pincer formation.
Marcus gave a short laugh. "Okay… this ain't some random street punks. They came prepared."
Paul frowned. "They know who I am. This isn't a casual chase."
The second car managed to cut ahead briefly, forcing Paul to slam the brakes.
Tires screeched. Rubber burned against asphalt.
Marcus gripped the dashboard tightly. "Time for the trap."
Paul nodded. "Do it."
Marcus pressed a small button marked "Deploy."
The rear of Paul's car opened slightly—releasing a spray of small, sharp metal spikes onto the road.
The first car behind them had no time to react. Its front tires burst instantly—sending the vehicle skidding violently into a guardrail.
BOOM!
Smoke poured from the wreck.
But the second car kept coming, now pulling up on their side again.
Paul clenched his jaw. "One down… one to go."
Marcus glanced at his watch. "We need to get out of this. Robinson's gonna need us after the surgery tonight."
Paul nodded. "Let's end this."
He floored the gas, veering off toward the off-ramp, cutting sharp with perfect control. The chasing car followed—but not fast enough.
Paul and Marcus disappeared into the shadows of the city. The second car trailed behind, struggling to keep up. In the distance, faint sirens began to rise.
That afternoon, sunlight filtered softly through the hospital room curtains. The monitor beeped steadily in the background.
Robinson sat quietly at his mother's bedside, watching her sleep. An IV line was attached to her hand, a thin oxygen tube resting gently under her nose. Her face looked pale… but peaceful. The surgery was over.
Daryl stood near the window, saying nothing, but visibly relieved.
Zashiro leaned against the wall, hands in his hoodie pocket, watching from a distance. "She's tough," he muttered. "You can tell… just by how she sleeps."
Robinson didn't respond. He gently held his mother's hand.
A long pause, then he whispered, almost to himself:
"Thanks for holding on, Mom… It's not over yet, but… you made it this far."
Daryl walked over and gave Robinson's shoulder a soft pat.
"Doctor said the surgery went smooth. Now it's all about recovery."
Robinson nodded, still focused on his mom's face.
"I didn't think this day would actually come."
Zashiro turned to him, eyes serious.
"We'll watch over her. But starting tomorrow… you'll have to get back out there, Rob."
Robinson slowly looked up. His eyes didn't waver.
"I'm ready."
The three of them stood around the hospital bed. Quiet, but full of resolve. Outside, the world kept spinning… and danger still lingered. But for this one moment—
—Robinson could finally breathe. His mother was safe.
Daryl looked at Robinson, who sat quietly by his mother's hospital bed. Robinson's face looked more mature than usual—silent, calm, but heavy.
"Bro… don't be so serious," Daryl said, trying to lighten the mood.
"Ever since your mom got sick, you haven't been like the usual Robinson. Normally you talk way too much."
Robinson let out a sigh, but a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"I haven't changed, Dar. Just got a lot on my mind."
Daryl grinned.
"Yeah, I get it. But I kinda miss the version of you who argues over nothing and keeps trashing my car."
They laughed quietly. Even just for a moment, it felt like a relief.
Not long after, footsteps echoed in the hospital hallway.
The door opened. Paul appeared in his leather jacket, walking calmly but with a heavy presence. Behind him, Marcus stepped in with his usual mischievous grin.
Robinson stood up. His expression immediately turned serious.
"Took you long enough. Where were you?"
Paul looked at him for a moment, then said in a low voice,
"Had some business... and a little car chase on the way."
Marcus added with a grin,
"We almost got rammed. But honestly? I kind of enjoyed it—spiced up the afternoon."
Daryl's jaw dropped.
"A car chase? Man… this isn't a movie!"
Paul ignored the comment and turned his eyes to Robinson's mother, still asleep in the hospital bed. His expression softened.
"The important thing is… she's safe now. And you're here."
Robinson looked down for a moment, then back at Paul.
"But I feel like… this is just the beginning, right?"
Paul gave a slow nod.
"That's right. And you have to be ready, Rob."