Kaito sat on his bed, elbows resting on his knees, eyes locked onto the screen. From the outside, he looked completely calm, but something inside him stirred. It wasn't nervousness—more like curiosity mixed with anticipation. Arisa's match was on.
Her opponent was tall, with thick brown hair tied into a short ponytail. His arms were like hammers, and his style was uncompromising—each dart thrown with aggression, as if he intended to pierce the board, not just hit it. He played with raw force, no elegance, but with undeniable effect. His presence was intimidating, like someone who wanted to crush anyone who stood in his way.
Arisa, on the other hand, looked composed. Her movements were graceful, like a dance. Each throw appeared effortless, natural. She stood tall, with her head slightly tilted and calm focus glowing in her eyes.
The beginning of the match was close. Though the score slightly favored Arisa, anyone who truly understood darts—like Kaito—could see it was a tactical exchange. Arisa was testing the tempo, letting him breathe. And he took full advantage of that.
With every throw, her opponent clenched his teeth. His darts cut through the air with such force it felt like he wanted to tear through the board. Some of them even rang off the wires—strong, but imprecise. His aggression showed in his stance: legs wide, shoulders tense, face twisted in fierce concentration. Each dart was a strike for dominance.
But Arisa wasn't intimidated. Every time he scored high, she just nodded slightly. And when she stepped forward, it was as if she was conducting an invisible orchestra—her fingers moved gently, her eyes knew exactly where the dart needed to land.
The turning point came halfway through the match.
After one of his thunderous throws, Arisa inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and reopened them with a new sparkle. Her motion changed—faster, sharper, cleaner. Each dart hit where it hurt. Triple 20. Bull. Triple 19. No hesitation, no pause. She shifted the rhythm and gave him no room.
The opponent began to falter. One of his throws missed the segment entirely. He was losing control. Arisa noticed—and that's when she struck the final blow. She finished it with a graceful Bull's Eye, barely blinking.
The hall fell silent—and then came the thunderous applause.
"Ladies and gentlemen, that was something else! Arisa didn't just shift the match's tempo—she owned it!" one commentator shouted.
"That final throw—it was a statement. Like she said: 'I've read you like a book. Now just watch.'" the second added.
The camera zoomed in on the victor. Arisa leaned toward the microphone, lips slightly parted, a glowing smile on her face—the kind Kaito knew well. Her eyes locked directly onto the lens.
"I'm looking forward to our next match, Kaito," she said softly. "Hope you'll be ready this time..." And finally—with a playful smirk and two raised fingers—she added, "With love..." heart and kiss.
The screen faded to black.
Kaito didn't say a word. He simply leaned his head back against the wall and smirked.