Act 3/Episode 1

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Act 3
Episode 1: Portrait 1 / Settsu Banri
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—It didn’t matter what. I just wanted something to make me feel passionate.
Sports, school, fighting—I was better than everyone at everything without getting serious. Every day was boring, dried-up, and colorless.
I did all kinds of things to fulfill my unquenchable thirst.
I didn’t care if it was borderline criminal, or if I was risking my life.
My life is on easy mode.
It felt so strange watching people get serious and desperate.
Why are you trying so hard?
Everything is just so easy.
“Hey, did you hear? Apparently Hyodo Juza crushed the head of Yama High.”
“That guy again?”
I hung out with these guys despite not being particularly close to them, but their conversation caught my interest.
“Who’s that?”

“Some yankee from O High. He’s been standing out since middle school.”
“He’s always alone. What do you call those guys—lone wolves?”

“Hmm.”
O High is within walking distance from here, I thought, and stood up.
“Banri, you leaving?”

“I’m going on a casual hunt.”
“Seriously?”
“I have no clue what the hell Banri’s thinking.”

(Like hell I’d know either.)
In my mind, I responded to the voices behind me and headed off to O High alone.
“...Huh?”
“...Had enough?”
(Are you kidding me—I can’t stand. My knees are shaking and I can’t get up. What the hell is this?)
I’d called out to someone who seemed to be the right guy, tossed in a few punches in the middle of my greeting—and before I knew it, I was rolling on the ground.
I’d never experienced something like this since the day I was born.
I don’t know what the hell is going on.
“...See you.”
“Wait up, you fucker!”
Without even glancing at me, he calmly strolled away.
It was my first ever defeat.
Without exaggeration, it was the first time I’d ever lost to someone else in the entire seventeen years of my life.
For the next two weeks, in the time it took to heal my wounds, I spent every waking hour thinking about how to beat him.
“This time, I won’t lose.”
I said, standing in front of him once more.
But he averted his eyes without raising a finger.
“Hey, the fuck are you ignoring me for?”

“I’m not fighting you again.”
“Aah?”
“Everyone who’s challenged me up till now had ambition. They wanted to take the top. But you’re different.”
“What?”
“You’re not even worth fighting.”

“You running away?”
He didn’t react to my taunt.
I felt completely sidestepped, I couldn’t do anything but watch.
No matter how many times I provoked him after that, it was the same thing.
Day after day, my frustration built over this opponent who wouldn’t return my punches.
Like hell I’d let him quit while he was ahead.
I need to fight and defeat him somehow.
One day, as I was thinking that, I saw him walk into a run-down theater.
(He can’t be the kinda guy who watches plays.)
I snorted at the thought and peeked into the entrance, where I spotted a poster on the door that read, “Autumn Troupe Audition Site.”
“Audition....?”

“Ah! Are you here to audition for the Autumn Troupe? Please, come right this way!”
“Hah? No, I’m not—”

“We’re just starting.”
Before I knew what was going on, I was shoved into a theater by a curly-haired man who wouldn’t listen to anything I said.
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