I'd been standing in this hallway for what felt like hours, the small box in my hands growing warmer with each passing second. The wrapping paper was a deep crimson—his favorite color—with little orange accents that reminded me of his explosions.

Through the door, I could hear them laughing. The Bakusquad, in the middle of their usual post-training debrief.

My hand was raised to knock when Denki's voice cut through the chatter.

Something cold settled in my stomach.

Bet.

Challenge.

Prove I could break through.

The paper crinkled in my grip. My fingers were trembling, and I couldn't make them stop.

A distraction.

My vision blurred. No—it was shimmering. Purple light, faint at first, beginning to curl around my fingertips like smoke.

The box slipped from my hands.

It hit the floor with a sound that echoed down the empty hallway.

The door swung open.