The morning sun spilled into the dojo, streaking the polished wood with pale gold. My body still bore the bruises from yesterday's ordeal; each movement was a reminder of pain earned and endured. Yet I rose when Master Bang called, determination outweighing every ache.
Bang stood before us with his arms crossed behind his back, his expression calm but heavy with intent.
"Yesterday, Kaizen proved he could endure. But endurance is not mastery. Today, we move beyond survival. Today, you will learn to breathe as the stream breathes."
The disciples straightened, curiosity flickering across their faces. Garou leaned against the wall as usual, half-listening, though his eyes betrayed sharp interest.
Bang's voice carried the weight of decades of battle.
"Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist is not simply blocking and striking. It is the principle of redirection without thought. Flow without form. The enemy's force must become your own. Their aggression, their intent returned to them amplified. This is not learned in muscle. It is learned in silence."
He motioned to me. "Step forward."
My heart thudded. I obeyed, standing at the center.
"Now, Kaizen," Bang said. "Receive."
Without warning, his palm shot forward. I raised my arms instinctively, blocking hard.
The world spun.
His strike hadn't just stopped me; it had absorbed me. My own stance folded in on itself, my body thrown to the floor as though I had tackled myself.
The disciples gasped.
"Too rigid," Bang said flatly. "You thought to resist. The stream does not resist. Again."
We repeated the motion a hundred times. Every attempt ended with me slammed, spun, or crumpled. My body rang with impacts, my pride cracked with each failure. Sweat blurred my vision, breath coming in ragged bursts.
Bang never raised his voice. His corrections were calm, almost detached.
"Your arms are stone, not water.""Your center is closed.""Your intent clings. Release it."
Hours bled away. By the time the sun had crossed the sky, I could barely lift my arms.
Garou chuckled once from the sidelines. "At this rate, old man, you'll break him before he learns."
Bang shot him a glance sharp enough to silence even Garou. "Better broken and reforged than left hollow."
I dragged myself upright again. My legs trembled, but I bowed. "Again, Master."
For the first time, Bang's eyes softened. "Good. That is the beginning."
That night, my body was fire and stone. Every breath hurt. But as I lay in the courtyard staring at the stars, I replayed Bang's movements in my mind the way his body had flowed, the effortless redirection. There was no tension, no resistance, only inevitability.
A shadow crossed my vision. Garou dropped down beside me, sitting cross-legged.
"You're crazy," he said. "Most of the others would've quit by now."
I smirked weakly. "Maybe I'm too stubborn."
He studied me, his sharp eyes reflecting the starlight. "Tell me something, Kaizen. Why do you even want this? You're not strong. You're not gifted. What's the point of breaking yourself like this?"
I hesitated. "Because I want to understand. I want to know what the body can become if it refuses to stop."
Garou snorted. "That's not strength. That's desperation."
"Maybe," I admitted. "But desperation keeps me standing."
Garou leaned back, arms behind his head. "Heroes call themselves justice, but they're just desperate too. Desperate for fame, recognition. They don't fight because it's right they fight because they want to be seen."
His tone was sharper now, bitter. "Someday I'll prove it. I'll break them all. Show the world what strength really is."
I turned my head, studying him. His conviction was raw, dangerous, but it burned with the same intensity as my own stubbornness. Where I sought understanding, Garou sought destruction.
Two streams flowing in opposite directions.
The next morning, Bang summoned me alone. His presence was heavier than usual, his words deliberate.
"You wish to learn? Then you must test what you have grasped. The dojo is not enough. A fist must touch real danger to grow."
My chest tightened. "What do you mean, Master?"
"There is trouble in the outskirts," Bang said. "Reports of a beast harassing villages. Minor heroes have been dispatched, but none have returned. You will go. You will face it."
I froze. "Alone?"
Bang's gaze cut through me. "The stream flows only when it is struck. Until you face the weight of death, you will never grasp its essence."
My stomach knotted. But I bowed. "I understand."
Garou caught me before I left. He smirked, though his eyes were sharp.
"So the old man's sending you out to die? Figures. Don't get your hopes up you're not me."
I adjusted the bandages on my fists. "I don't need to be you."
His grin widened, more predatory now. "Good. Because when you come back if you come back I want to see if you've actually learned something. Don't disappoint me."
The road stretched empty beyond the city. Dust rose with each step I took, my heart pounding with every mile. My body was battered, my mind clouded, but there was no turning back.
Somewhere ahead, a beast waited. Something that had ended heroes. Something that would either crush me or forge me.
The stream flowed ever forward. And I stepped into its current.