Part I: The Tournament Brackets Revealed
The morning sun spilled across the wide courtyard of Iron Will High, throwing long shadows across the crowd of students gathered for the midterm tournament announcements. Excitement rippled like static through the air; the buzz of speculation, rivalries, and whispered strategies was impossible to ignore.
Kai adjusted his glasses, his eyes darting over the boards as the brackets were finally unveiled. Names slid into place under the categories for First, Second, and Third Years. The anticipation of weeks of training now had shape—clear pathways to either glory or humiliation.
Haru nearly bounced in place. "Look, look! Our names are actually there! Kai, we're really in this! Representing the First Years, baby!" His triumphant fist pump narrowly missed Aiko's head.
She swatted his arm with a glare. "Calm down. If you embarrass us in the first round, I'll make sure you regret it."
Instructor Tanaka's voice cut through the chaos like a blade of steel scraping stone. "Form lines! Representatives of each year, step forward." His tone carried both command and a quiet humor, as though he enjoyed watching the students stumble over themselves. "We'll be measuring your spirit and skill. For some of you, this will be your first chance to prove whether you belong here at all."
Whispers surged again. Students elbowed each other, pointing at Riku's name listed as Second-Year Representative, at Daichi, at the mysterious new third-year candidates whose reputations preceded them. The tension felt electric, each murmur a spark.
Tanaka's sharp gaze swept over the younger students, then stopped on Kai. "And you—the so-called 'lazy genius.'"
A ripple of laughter moved through the first-year group. Kai blinked, feigning confusion. "I didn't call myself that."
"Exactly," Tanaka said, lips twitching. "That's what makes it worse."
Haru whispered, "Oh no, he's already on your case," before nearly jumping out of his skin as Tanaka's gaze shifted to him.
"Did you just faint last week during my speech?" Tanaka asked.
Haru's face turned crimson. "That was… an artistic choice!"
The courtyard erupted with laughter. Even Aiko struggled to hide a smirk. Tanaka folded his arms, clearly satisfied at setting the tone. The First-Years had a storm to weather.
Part II: First-Year Training Under Tanaka
Training began in earnest later that day. Instructor Tanaka herded the First-Year hopefuls into the old gym, its wooden floors polished from decades of sweat and combat. The smell of sandalwood from incense clung faintly to the air, mixing strangely with the sound of sneakers squeaking.
"Strength is not enough," Tanaka began, pacing slowly. "Speed is not enough. Technique is not enough. The tournament will strip you down and expose the truth: do you think, or do you merely react? The difference is the difference between winning and crawling home."
A nervous laugh broke the silence, quickly silenced by Tanaka's glare.
"Let's test the waters," he said, clapping his hands. "Pair up. Haru, you're with Aiko. Kai, you're with… him."
A bulky first-year named Rento cracked his knuckles, smirking as he stepped forward. "Finally, I get to show everyone that calculations don't win fights."
Kai sighed. "Oh, good. I've always wanted to be an experiment."
The spar began explosively. Rento charged, each strike a blur of muscle and momentum. Kai dodged by fractions, already noting the rhythm in Rento's offense. Haru shouted from the sidelines, "Careful! He's serious!"
Kai tilted slightly at the last second, letting Rento's punch swing just wide. The larger boy overbalanced, stumbling forward. Kai didn't hit him—he simply let physics do the work. With a loud crash, Rento fell flat on the mat.
Silence. Then laughter. Then groans of disbelief.
"He did it again!" someone shouted. "He barely moved!"
Tanaka's expression was unreadable. "Hmm. Not fists, not strength. He's fighting with his head."
Rento scowled, pushing himself up, but Tanaka held up a hand. "Enough. Lesson learned. Pride without awareness is just a tripwire waiting to catch its owner."
Aiko crossed her arms, watching Kai. "You got lucky."
Kai adjusted his glasses. "If luck has a pattern, is it still luck?"
"Don't start," Haru groaned.
Part III: The First-Year Representative Matches
Two days later, the selection matches were in full swing. The gymnasium had been transformed into a miniature arena, bleachers filled with cheering students. The energy was palpable; the chance to shine, to earn respect, was everything to these young martial artists.
Haru was up first. His opponent was a wiry boy with lightning-fast kicks. The fight looked one-sided at first—until Haru started improvising. He ducked, twisted, even accidentally sneezed at one point, throwing his opponent off rhythm. The crowd erupted with laughter as Haru tripped backward but somehow landed on his opponent's leg, taking him down.
Aiko facepalmed. "This is embarrassing."
Kai, however, murmured, "Unpredictability has its uses."
Next came Aiko's fight. It was swift, efficient, almost surgical. Her strikes were clean and merciless. The crowd fell into an awed hush as she dispatched her opponent in under a minute. When she bowed politely at the end, Haru whispered, "Note to self: never make her angry again."
Finally, it was Kai's turn. His opponent came in brimming with confidence, a smirk plastered across his face. "You think you can just wait me out, like with Rento? Not this time."
The crowd leaned forward in anticipation. The duel began. Kai sidestepped, adjusted, deflected—not aggressive, but precise. His opponent grew reckless, trying harder to land a decisive blow. Then it happened: the boy overextended, leaving himself open. Kai stepped aside and lightly pushed, guiding momentum. Another loud crash. Another stunned silence.
Groans filled the air. "He did it AGAIN?!"
Kai scratched his head. "I swear, I'm not doing it on purpose."
Tanaka's arms were folded. His sharp eyes gleamed, though he gave nothing away. "Lazy genius indeed."
Part IV: The Team is Formed
By the end of the day, the representatives were officially declared. The First-Year team: Kai, Haru, and Aiko. The announcement was met with cheers, laughter, and a few grumbles from disappointed students. The three stood awkwardly in the spotlight, their dynamics immediately obvious.
Haru grinned ear to ear, pumping both fists in the air. "We did it! Team First-Years! We're gonna crush it at the district tournament!"
Aiko sighed, muttering, "With your luck, you'll trip into victory again."
"Hey, a win is a win!" Haru shot back.
Kai stood silently, gaze fixed forward, already analyzing the path ahead. His words were quiet, almost lost in the noise: "This is only the beginning."
Instructor Tanaka stepped forward, his voice slicing through the cheers. "Congratulations. You're representing the First-Years now. That means the eyes of the school—and soon, the district—are on you. Take it seriously."
His grin turned sharp. "Because if you don't, I'll personally spar you until you can't walk."
Haru's scream echoed through the gym, sending another wave of laughter across the crowd. Aiko shook her head, but even she couldn't hide a small smile.