The following morning, Kai entered the school courtyard alongside Jun and Mei. The air already vibrated with noise and energy as students gathered before the day's classes. Some were stretching in the open space, their movements sharp and precise, while others compared the aches in their legs or proudly boasted about how long they had endured yesterday's stance training. To an outsider, it might have looked like any other high school morning filled with chatter, but to Kai the atmosphere was entirely different. It wasn't idle gossip or lazy laughter that dominated the courtyard—it was the language of competitors, a restless energy that made the place feel more like an arena disguised as a school. Every movement, every whisper carried the weight of people measuring themselves against each other.
Jun groaned loudly as he trudged beside Kai, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders slumped as though gravity itself had doubled overnight. "My thighs are still screaming from yesterday. I swear, if Instructor Takeda makes us squat again, I'll just collapse in front of him and beg for mercy. Maybe they'll take pity on me and send me to the nurse's office."
Mei chuckled softly at his dramatic tone, though her voice was quiet as usual. "You're exaggerating. It wasn't that bad."
"Not that bad?" Jun turned his head toward her with a look of pure betrayal. "I thought my legs were going to detach themselves and crawl away! You two are monsters, lasting that long without collapsing."
Kai allowed himself a small smirk but didn't add anything. His attention was elsewhere. He hadn't forgotten the sharp look from the second-year yesterday, the one whose presence had been heavier than any stance or drill. It was a gaze that didn't belong to a curious upperclassman; it was the gaze of someone who had already judged him as a potential opponent. And as though summoned by that very thought, the figure he remembered stood waiting at the far end of the courtyard, leaning casually against the wall near the entrance to the dojo.
Riku.
His posture was relaxed, arms folded across his chest, but his eyes were fixed directly on Kai the moment he entered the courtyard. The smirk that formed on his lips wasn't friendly, nor was it openly hostile—it was the kind of expression that belonged to a predator who had already spotted his prey and was merely deciding when to strike. When Riku finally pushed off the wall and began walking toward them, the crowd's noise shifted subtly. The chatter lowered, and glances began darting toward the approaching group. Riku didn't walk alone; several of his followers moved in step behind him, creating a loose circle that cut through the courtyard traffic until they surrounded Kai, Jun, and Mei.
The sudden shift in atmosphere silenced Jun mid-complaint. He leaned closer to Kai and muttered, "Oh no. Here comes trouble."
Riku stopped directly in front of Kai, his shadow falling across him. He was taller, broader in the shoulders, and his uniform looked unnaturally neat compared to the sweat-stained first-years. His presence alone seemed to draw the attention of everyone nearby, and the circle of students watching from a distance grew thicker by the second.
"You're the new first-year, right? Kai." Riku's voice was smooth, almost conversational, but there was an edge beneath it that made it clear this wasn't a friendly greeting.
Kai met his eyes calmly, forcing his body not to stiffen under the weight of that gaze. "That's right."
A low chuckle slipped out of Riku. He tilted his head slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing as if he were studying every detail of Kai's stance and expression. "You stood out yesterday. Instructor Takeda doesn't usually nod at first-years. I guess you've got something more than the average weakling who stumbles in here."
Kai didn't respond immediately. His instincts told him this wasn't a conversation that needed encouragement. Instead, he remained still, letting the silence weigh as much as Riku's words.
Riku smirked again, leaning just close enough for his voice to drop. "But don't mistake that little nod for anything important. This school already has its hierarchy. Top dogs don't like their territory disturbed. And you…" His voice hardened, the smirk twisting sharper. "You're just fresh meat."
Jun, unable to hold himself back, stepped forward. "Hey! Back off. He's just getting started—"
Before he could finish, one of Riku's followers extended an arm and shoved Jun to the side with almost casual force. Jun stumbled, nearly tripping, his face flushing red with both embarrassment and frustration. He clenched his fists but didn't push further; the difference in strength between them was obvious. Mei's eyes widened, and she hugged her bag tightly to her chest, her expression full of nervous tension.
Kai exhaled quietly, his mind racing. So this is what it is—predators circling the newcomer, testing him before he even takes his first step. If I back down now, I'll be marked for the rest of the year. No matter how skilled I am, I'll never shake that image.
"I'm not here to take anyone's place," Kai said finally, his voice even and calm. "I came here to learn."
The words drew a murmur from the watching students. Some seemed impressed by his composure; others snickered, as though he were naive. Riku's smirk widened once more.
"Good answer," Riku said. "But this school doesn't run on words. Here, you survive by proving yourself." He raised a hand and snapped his fingers. One of his friends stepped forward, cracking his knuckles as he dropped into a stance.
Jun's voice cracked as he whispered, "Wait—you're going to make him fight right here?"
But Riku only lifted his chin slightly, his gaze never leaving Kai. "Relax. I won't fight you. Not yet. But let's see if you're worth Takeda's attention. Show me your stance."
Kai frowned faintly. "Stance?"
"Horse stance. Right here, right now. Outlast my guy, and I'll let you walk away. Collapse first, and you'll know your place."
The crowd stirred with excitement. Whispers rippled across the courtyard. It was a simple challenge, but in this school, reputation was currency, and refusing a public test was the same as throwing it away.
Kai glanced sideways at Jun, who shook his head fiercely, and at Mei, whose worried eyes seemed to plead with him not to do it. Yet Kai stepped forward anyway. He shrugged his bag off his shoulder and lowered himself into the stance, movements deliberate and measured. Knees bent, back straight, weight distributed evenly across both legs. His mind recited what his aunt had drilled into him since childhood: the stance is a foundation, not a punishment. A building only stands because its base does not falter.
Riku gestured, and his follower mirrored Kai's position beside him. The test began.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The courtyard filled with the sound of strained breathing and murmurs from the crowd. Sweat began rolling down foreheads, soaking into uniforms. The second-year challenger's legs trembled violently, his teeth grinding as he fought to keep from collapsing. Kai's own legs screamed in agony, but he centered himself on each breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth, steady and unbroken. He pictured it like the mechanics of an engine: too much strain without regulation, and it would overheat and collapse. Balance and rhythm—that was the only way to keep the machine running.
One by one, students began muttering that the second-year was wavering. His knees buckled slightly, his stance breaking. Kai adjusted minutely, pressing his weight down into the floor, refusing to falter. His thighs burned, his calves ached, but his eyes remained forward.
At last, with a strangled groan, the second-year dropped to one knee, his stance shattering completely. Gasps and laughter echoed through the crowd, disbelief spreading like wildfire. A first-year had just outlasted a second-year under Riku's command.
Kai did not rise immediately. He held the stance for a few seconds longer before straightening slowly, controlling every movement so as not to show the strain in his legs. His muscles screamed, but his expression was calm.
The crowd buzzed louder than before, voices overlapping with excitement and shock. Riku's smirk had vanished. His eyes narrowed, the predator's gaze sharpening into something colder and more dangerous. For the first time, he looked at Kai not as prey, but as something that might threaten his position.
Finally, Riku raised a hand, silencing the courtyard with a simple gesture. He stepped closer until the space between them was almost suffocating. His voice dropped to a low growl, only for Kai to hear.
"Not bad, first-year. You've got some steel in you. But remember this—steel bends before it breaks."
With that, he turned and walked away, his group following closely behind. The tension that had gripped the courtyard unraveled instantly. Students broke into frantic chatter, their voices full of disbelief and curiosity.
Jun rushed forward, grabbing Kai's arm. "Are you insane? You just stood up to Riku! The guy's a monster! Do you know what you've done?"
Mei let out a shaky sigh, her eyes filled with both fear and admiration. "That was reckless… but also incredible."
Kai finally allowed himself to breathe deeply, rolling his shoulders as if to shake off the pressure that still lingered. His legs throbbed painfully, but his mind was sharper than ever. The hierarchy of Martial High had just revealed itself, and he had walked straight into the predator's gaze.
If this is the kind of opponent I'll face here, then skill alone won't be enough. I'll need more than logic, more than training. I'll need an iron will to stand against them.