The dojo gates creaked as I pushed them open. The wooden boards beneath my feet groaned faintly, each step echoing in the quiet courtyard. My body was wrapped in makeshift bandages, my gi tattered and stained with dried blood. Every breath sent a knife of pain into my ribs, but still, I walked forward.
Inside, the students were already gathered, lined in neat rows for the morning session. Conversations froze as I stepped into view.
Their stares pierced me shocked, disbelieving, some even fearful. A few whispered among themselves, but the words carried clearly.
"He came back?""I thought he went to fight the beast in the forest…""No one survives that."
At the front stood Garou, arms crossed, eyes narrowing as he studied me. His smirk was sharp, wolfish.
"Well, look who crawled back," he said. "Didn't think you'd last a night out there."
I ignored him. My gaze found Bang, seated at the front of the hall. The old master's expression was unreadable, but his eyes sharp, calm, ancient rested on me with weight.
I bowed low. "I have returned, Master."
For a long moment, silence filled the dojo. Then Bang rose to his feet.
"You reek of blood," he said, his voice neither harsh nor gentle. "Tell me. Did you face it?"
"Yes," I answered, my throat raw. "A monster. Stronger than I imagined. I… survived."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "Survived."
I nodded.
"Then show me," Bang said, his tone carrying the authority of stone. "Show me what you have gained."
The students murmured. Garou's grin widened.
"Perfect," Garou said, stepping forward. "Let me be the one to test him, Master. If he truly learned something out there, I want to see it with my own fists."
Bang studied me, then Garou. Slowly, he nodded.
"Very well. A spar."
The dojo floor cleared. Students shuffled back, forming a wide circle. The air buzzed with tension.
Garou stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders. "You hear that? Don't hold back. If you do, you'll regret it."
I steadied my breathing, sinking into stance. My arms trembled from fatigue, but my core held firm. The memory of the forest, the flow of movement, lingered in my body.
Bang raised his hand. "Begin."
Garou moved first.
His dash was like a predator's pounce fast, precise, filled with killing intent. His fist cut toward my face, sharp and merciless.
I stepped aside, palm brushing his wrist, redirecting the strike. For an instant, the flow was there. His own momentum carried him past me.
Gasps rippled through the students.
Garou twisted, recovering instantly. His eyes gleamed. "So you did learn something."
He attacked again, faster this time. Blows rained in from every angle hooks, jabs, kicks, sweeps. His style was wild yet controlled, fierce and unpredictable.
I guided, slipped, deflected. My body remembered the beast's claws, the endless storm of strikes in the forest. Compared to that, Garou's attacks had rhythm, intent. They could be read barely.
But Garou was no monster. He was worse. He was human, with intelligence sharpened into fangs.
Mid-spin, he shifted direction, catching me off guard. His kick slammed into my ribs. Pain exploded through my side, blood bursting in my mouth.
I staggered but did not fall.
Garou sneered. "You're slower than I thought."
I breathed, steady. Flow. I reminded myself. Do not resist.
When his fist came again, I slipped beneath it, my palm guiding his arm aside. My counterstrike shot forward, knuckles grazing his jaw.
A cheer rose from the students cut short by Garou's laugh.
"Good. Very good."
The spar escalated.
Each exchange grew sharper, heavier. My deflections grew smoother, my movements less forced. For moments at a time, I felt the current carrying me, my body flowing with Garou's ferocity.
But every time I found the rhythm, Garou broke it. His adaptability was frightening, his instincts razor-sharp. He attacked not like a student, but like a predator dissecting prey.
Soon, I was bleeding again nose broken, lip split, bruises blooming across my torso.
Still, I endured. Still, I flowed.
Then, in one sudden burst, Garou swept low, his leg crashing into mine. My balance shattered.
He pounced, fist poised to crush my skull into the floor.
At the last instant, my body moved without thought. I twisted, guiding his wrist past me, my other palm pressing against his chest. His own momentum carried him forward, sending him sprawling to the mat.
The dojo erupted in shouts.
Garou rolled to his feet, his smirk gone, replaced by something sharper. Excitement. Hunger.
Bang's voice cut through the noise. "Enough."
Garou froze, his glare lingering on me. Then he straightened, bowing stiffly to the master.
I dropped to one knee, my body screaming for rest.
Bang approached, his gaze heavy. He looked down at me, then at Garou, then at the stunned students.
"This," Bang said, his tone calm but commanding, "is why we face death. Not to glorify survival. But to awaken the body to its truth."
His eyes lingered on me. "You have touched the flow, Kaizen. Barely. A thread in a vast river. Do not mistake survival for mastery. You stand at the beginning."
I bowed my head. "Yes, Master."
Garou scoffed, wiping blood from his lip. "Don't think this means you're stronger than me. That was luck. Next time, I'll break you."
His words burned with promise, not mockery. He turned, storming from the ring.
The students erupted into whispers again, awe mixed with disbelief.
But I barely heard them. My chest still heaved with pain, my vision blurred. Yet deep inside, beneath the exhaustion and wounds, something flickered.
Not pride. Not arrogance.
Resolve.
I had survived the beast. I had survived Garou. And I knew now, more than ever this path was endless.
And I would walk it.
Later that night, I sat alone in the dojo's courtyard, the cool air stinging my wounds. The stars hung above, silent witnesses to my struggle.
My fists rested on my knees, swollen and bloodied.
Garou's face flashed in my mind. His strikes. His hunger. His adaptability.
I realized then Garou wasn't my rival. He was the road ahead, the shadow I had to follow if I wanted to grasp the depth of martial arts in this world.
If I faltered, I'd be left behind.
So I closed my eyes, breathing steady, feeling the phantom rhythm of battle replaying through my veins.
Not luck. Not chance.
Flow.
And with each breath, I vowed: I would not break.
Not here. Not ever.