The dojo smelled of polished wood and sweat. Dawn light filtered through paper windows, streaking the floor with soft gold. Kaizen stood barefoot in the center, his arms wrapped in bandages, his body sore from yesterday's spar. Every muscle screamed at him to rest, but his eyes were sharp, unyielding.
Bang paced slowly before him, his hands behind his back. His white hair glowed faintly in the sunlight, his presence filling the room without a word spoken.
"Kaizen," Bang finally said, his tone firm yet measured. "Do you know why you struggled against Renji?"
Kaizen inhaled deeply. "I wasn't fast enough. My counters were late. My body couldn't keep up."
Bang shook his head. "No. You lacked flow." He stepped closer, his eyes like steel. "Your fists moved like stones, heavy and predictable. Water does not resist, nor does it force. It moves where it must. Until you understand this, every opponent will crush you."
Kaizen lowered his head. The words stung, but truth always did.
"Then show me," Kaizen said quietly. "Teach me to move like water."
Bang raised a brow, studying him. For a long moment, silence stretched. Then, without warning, Bang's fist snapped forward, aimed at Kaizen's chest.
Kaizen barely had time to flinch before the old master's strike halted an inch from impact. The wind pressure alone made him stagger back.
"That hesitation," Bang said coldly. "That's what will kill you. You must move without thought. Instinct guided by form."
Kaizen's breath hitched. His heart thundered.
"Again," Bang commanded.
This time, the strike came from the side. Kaizen tried to deflect, but Bang's palm slipped past, tapping his ribs. The sting was small, but the humiliation was sharp.
"Again."
A third strike. A fourth. Bang attacked without pause, his movements fluid and unpredictable, like a stream carving through stone. Kaizen blocked some, missed most, and by the time Bang stepped back, sweat was dripping down Kaizen's face, his chest heaving.
Bang's gaze hardened. "You are strong, Kaizen. Stronger than most when it comes to endurance. But raw strength is wasted if it is not directed. To forge your flow, we must strip away what is clumsy."
Kaizen wiped sweat from his brow. His fists trembled, not from fear, but from hunger. "Then strip me down, Master. Break everything until there's nothing left but what I need."
For the first time, Bang's lips twitched upward in the faintest smile.
"Good."
The training shifted. Bang began drilling him in repetition beyond exhaustion. Steps across the floor until his legs buckled. Redirecting wooden staves swung by senior students until his arms felt like lead. Breathing patterns to sustain motion even when his lungs screamed.
"Don't fight the strike head-on," Bang barked as a staff whistled toward Kaizen's shoulder. "Guide it. Redirect its path. Control, don't collide."
Kaizen twisted, his arm tracing the arc, and for the first time, the weapon slid past him harmlessly. His heart leapt.
"That's it," Bang said sharply. "Remember that feeling. Water yields, but in yielding, it conquers."
Hours bled into days. The students watched him differently now not just as the outsider, but as someone who refused to break. Even Renji, his ribs still faintly sore from Kaizen's elbow, nodded in grudging respect.
Yet among the silent watchers, Garou's eyes gleamed the brightest.
One evening, while the dojo was emptying, Garou lingered in the shadows. He leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, watching Kaizen continue training alone.
Kaizen's shirt was drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead, his body weaving through invisible enemies. Each motion grew smoother, less forced. His fists no longer swung like stones, but glided, redirected, and snapped with controlled precision.
Garou smirked. So he's learning. Faster than the others, too. Not bad, newbie. Not bad at all.
Still, a flicker of irritation tugged at him. But no matter how much you train, you'll never catch up to me.
Later that night, Kaizen collapsed onto the wooden floor, staring up at the rafters. His body ached so badly that even breathing was painful, but a strange satisfaction swelled in his chest.
He whispered to himself, half delirious, half determined: "Flow… keep flowing. Don't stop. Don't ever stop."
The door creaked open.
It was Bang.
Kaizen scrambled to sit upright, but Bang gestured for him to stay down. The old master stood in silence for a while, watching him.
"You remind me of someone," Bang said finally, his voice quieter than usual. "Stubborn. Hungry. Willing to bleed just to grasp strength." His eyes darkened slightly. "…But that road can twist a man if he's not careful."
Kaizen frowned. "You mean Garou."
Bang's silence was confirmation enough.
Kaizen clenched his fists. "I'm not like him. I don't want to fight for destruction. I want strength to protect… to stand against what's coming."
Bang studied him, then gave a small nod. "Then remember those words. When your resolve is tested and it will be tested they must anchor you."
The following week was brutal. Bang devised special drills meant solely for Kaizen. The others muttered about favoritism, but they also knew it wasn't kindness it was punishment.
While the others practiced in pairs, Kaizen stood in the center, enduring attacks from three directions at once. Staffs, fists, kicks all crashing toward him. His task wasn't to win, only to survive.
At first, he was battered mercilessly. Bruises bloomed across his arms and torso, his body collapsing more than once. But each time, he forced himself up again. Each time, his movements sharpened, his body bending, redirecting, flowing.
By the tenth day, when Renji swung hard at him, Kaizen's body moved instinctively his arm swept the blow aside, his body pivoting smoothly, and his counterstrike landed with precision.
The dojo hushed.
Even Garou, sitting at the edge with his usual smirk, tilted his head. Huh. He's getting it faster than I thought.
Bang gave no praise, only a curt command. "Again."
That night, Kaizen's reflection stared back at him in the dojo mirror. His body was bruised and battered, but his stance was different. Firmer. Smoother. For the first time, he felt like he was beginning to understand the essence of the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist not just copying motions, but letting them live inside him.
A small smile tugged at his lips. "Not enough yet… but closer. Closer every day."
Behind him, the sliding door opened slightly.
Garou's voice floated in, low and mocking. "Careful, newbie. You're starting to look like a real martial artist. Don't let it get to your head."
Kaizen turned, his eyes meeting Garou's in the reflection. "If you're worried, we can test it now."
Garou chuckled, stepping inside with that wolfish grin. "Not yet. When we fight, it'll be for real. No holding back. And when that day comes…" His grin widened. "…don't expect mercy."
Kaizen's fists tightened at his sides. His heart pounded, but his voice was steady. "Good. I don't want mercy. I want the truth of my strength."
For a moment, silence hung thick between them.
Then Garou laughed softly, walking away into the night. "You might actually be fun after all."
Alone again, Kaizen exhaled slowly, staring at the stars outside the window.
The path ahead was steep, and his body was already breaking. But his spirit burned brighter than ever.
No matter what it takes… I'll keep flowing forward.