The next morning, the school corridors hummed louder than usual. It wasn't just the usual chatter of students trading jokes or last-minute homework scribbles. The air itself seemed thick, charged with the kind of restless energy that clings to a rumor.
Kai realized the moment he stepped through the main gate. Heads turned. Whispers trailed after him like shadows.
"That's him."
"Is it true he stood up to Riku?"
"No way. The guy's new—barely lasted a week."
"Maybe he begged for mercy, and people are just exaggerating."
Kai kept his eyes forward, jaw tight. He had heard this rhythm before. Rumors always spun faster than truth, reshaped by every mouth they passed through. Yet no matter how distorted, the story had already done its damage: he wasn't just the quiet new kid anymore.
He was the one who dared to clash with Riku.
By the time he reached his classroom, the murmurs had swelled into a chorus. Some eyes looked at him with interest, others with mockery, and more than a few with pity. Kai slid into his seat, pretending not to notice, but his ears caught every note.
Haru plopped into the chair beside him, grinning like he had been waiting for this moment. "You're famous."
Kai groaned. "Great. Just what I wanted."
"Relax. Not everyone gets to tick off the king of Martial High in their first week." Haru leaned back, arms behind his head. "You've basically painted a target on your back. That's impressive."
Kai shot him a look. "You're enjoying this way too much."
"Of course I am. I like watching fireworks."
The teacher entered before Kai could reply, but the energy in the room barely dimmed. Eyes still flicked toward him, sideways glances sharp enough to slice. Even as lessons began, Kai felt the weight of silent judgment pressing against his shoulders.
Lunch came like a small reprieve. The courtyard buzzed with activity—students eating, sparring, lounging under the shade of trees. Kai and Haru found a quiet bench at the edge, away from the densest crowd.
But peace was short-lived.
Three figures approached. Their presence drew attention like sparks in dry grass. They weren't Riku himself, but Kai recognized them from the training hall—upperclassmen who had lingered near him, laughing at his expense. Riku's circle.
The tallest, with a shaved head and broad shoulders, cracked his knuckles as he loomed. "So you're the genius who thinks he can talk back to Riku."
Kai's chopsticks froze midair. He set his lunchbox aside deliberately before meeting the boy's stare. "I didn't say that."
The second, wiry with sharp eyes, smirked. "Word is you stood toe-to-toe with him. Don't play dumb."
"Rumors," Kai said evenly. "They have a life of their own."
The tall one leaned closer, shadow stretching across Kai's lunch. "Doesn't matter. If you're making waves, you prove whether you're worth the noise."
Haru tensed beside him, but Kai placed a hand on his friend's arm. His heart was racing, but he kept his voice calm. "If you want a fight, say it plainly."
The wiry boy chuckled. "Not yet. Think of this as… a reminder. You're in Riku's school. Step out of line again, and we won't be so polite."
They stepped back, leaving the warning hanging in the air like a blade. Students nearby whispered, excitement shimmering in their eyes. Conflict was entertainment. And now Kai was the main show.
Haru exhaled once they were gone. "They're not going to stop, you know. They're just testing the waters."
Kai nodded. His chest still burned from the encounter, but the fear that had once threatened to drown him now flickered with something sharper. Resolve.
"If they want to test me," he said quietly, "I'll give them an answer they won't forget."
The rest of the day dragged with unease. Every hallway seemed narrower, every glance heavier. Yet Kai didn't retreat. He walked with steady steps, even when Riku himself appeared at the far end of the corridor between classes.
Their eyes met for a brief moment.
Riku didn't speak. He didn't need to. His faint smirk was enough—a promise that their paths would cross again soon, and when they did, there would be no room for hesitation.
Kai's hand curled into a fist at his side.
Tomorrow, next week, or a month from now… I'll be ready.
The next morning, the air of Martial High carried a sharpness Kai hadn't felt before. The usual noise of chatter, laughter, and slamming lockers was there, but threaded through it was something heavier, something that made his skin prickle.
He hadn't even stepped fully past the main gates when the first whispers reached him.
"That's him, right? The new kid."
"Yeah, the one who mouthed off to Riku."
"No way. He doesn't look like much."
"I heard Riku nearly crushed his throat with a stare."
Kai tightened his grip on his bag strap. He didn't look left or right, but the awareness of eyes on him was impossible to shake. Every passing group seemed to shrink into low voices the moment he passed, like the echo of his encounter had spread into every corner of the school.
By the time he reached his classroom, his shoulders felt heavier than his bag. The room quieted as he entered, not fully silent but charged with a restless curiosity. Some students smirked. Some frowned. A few simply stared.
Kai walked to his seat at the back row and sat down, back straight, face neutral. He set his books out carefully, forcing his hands not to tremble.
Haru dropped into the chair beside him, his grin loud enough to draw its own attention. "Congratulations. You're officially the most talked-about person in school."
Kai groaned. "Exactly what I wanted."
"You don't get it. Everyone's waiting to see what happens next. You poked the dragon, Kai. People live for this kind of drama." Haru leaned closer, voice dropping. "Half of them expect you to get demolished. The other half just hope you put up a fight so it's fun to watch."
Kai stared at his desk. "Neither option sounds good."
"Maybe not. But you've got their attention now. That's power too, if you use it right."
Before Kai could respond, the teacher walked in. Lessons began, but focus slipped through Kai's fingers. Every time chalk scraped the board, his eyes flicked sideways, catching glimpses of whispers exchanged, eyes darting toward him.
So this is what it feels like to be under the spotlight.
It wasn't admiration. It was scrutiny, magnified by Riku's name. And Kai knew he hadn't earned it yet—he hadn't done anything but refuse to bow.
By the time the lunch bell rang, his head ached from the weight of it all. He and Haru carried their trays to the courtyard, finding a bench under the shade of a tree. Kai had barely picked up his chopsticks when movement caught his eye.
Three boys. Upperclassmen. He remembered them—faces from the training hall, the ones who had stood near Riku, laughing quietly when he confronted Kai.
They walked with the slow, deliberate confidence of predators who knew their prey couldn't run. The tallest, broad-shouldered with a shaved head, cracked his knuckles loudly as they stopped in front of the bench.
"So," he said, voice low and rough, "this is the genius who thinks he can talk back to Riku."
Kai set his chopsticks down carefully. His chest was tight, but he made his voice even. "I didn't think anything. I just spoke."
The second boy, wiry with sharp eyes and a smirk that cut, leaned in. "Word is you stood toe-to-toe with him. Stared him down like an equal. Is that true?"
Kai's silence stretched for a moment. "Rumors like to grow bigger the further they travel. I didn't stand as his equal. I just didn't back down."
The wiry boy's smirk deepened. "Same difference."
The tall one bent closer, his shadow spilling over Kai's lunchbox. His breath smelled faintly of mint gum. "If you're making waves, you need to prove you deserve them. Otherwise…" His fingers tapped the bench just beside Kai's hand, hard enough to make the wood creak. "People like you sink fast."
Kai's heart thundered, but he kept his hand steady. "If you want a fight, say it plainly."
A ripple of attention spread across the courtyard. Students paused mid-bite, ears tilting toward the confrontation. Even from the far side, laughter stilled as eyes fixed on the bench.
The wiry boy chuckled. "Not yet. Consider this… a reminder. You're walking in Riku's shadow now. Step wrong, and we won't be so polite."
They pulled back, their retreat as slow and deliberate as their approach. The warning lingered in the air long after they were gone.
Haru blew out a breath, shoulders sagging. "They're playing with you. Testing how much you'll flinch."
Kai picked up his chopsticks again. His appetite had soured, but he forced a bite anyway. "Then I won't flinch. If they want to test me, I'll give them an answer."
Haru studied him for a moment, then smiled faintly. "You really don't know how to back down, do you?"
The rest of the day dragged. The whispers didn't stop. If anything, they sharpened. Some twisted the story further—painting Kai as reckless, arrogant, doomed. A few voices suggested maybe, just maybe, he was someone who could topple Riku.
Both versions painted a target on his back.
And then, between classes, he saw him.
Riku.
The hallway parted like water, students instinctively moving aside as he walked through. His presence wasn't loud. He didn't shove, didn't bark orders. But every step carried weight. Every glance commanded space.
Kai froze for half a second before forcing himself to keep walking. Their eyes met as they passed.
Riku didn't speak. He didn't need to. The faint smirk on his lips was enough. It was a promise, a warning, and a challenge all in one.
Kai's fist clenched at his side. His chest burned with the memory of last night's training.
No matter how heavy his shadow, I won't break under it.