The early morning before dawn in the dormitories was biting. What was once brimming with the warmth of training, reading, and the occasional burst of laughter was now strained. Rui had become a shadow of the teammate they were familiar with. While others remained to eat or train in teams, Rui would off to the edge of the training hall or the roof at night.
Nobody complained at the beginning. Rui was Rui—intelligent, competent, arrogant. But the chasm grew larger with each passing day, as if an invisible line were being drawn across the class.
It started small, over breakfast.
Chen slapped down his chopsticks. "What's wrong with him, huh? He thinks he's better than the rest of us now?"
Across the room, Rui sat by himself at the window, his tray gone. His sharp eyes did not look in Chen's direction, but the strained tensing of his shoulders told he had heard every word.
Xia leaned back in her chair, arms folded, her voice husky but cutting. "Maybe he is better, Chen. That is what worries you, isn't it?
Chen snapped his head toward her, face flushed. "Don't defend him, Xia. We've all been training, all been sweating. He just walks off, ignores us, like we're beneath him."
The room simmered, murmurs stirring among the students.
Lian, quietly chewing away until now, set his bowl down and spoke loudly, firm but gentle. "Enough. Fighting won't make things better." He looked at Rui. "If there is a problem, we can talk it out, not cut each other with words."
Finally, Rui stood, the chair scraping noisily on the floor. His presence was keen, like a drawn knife, and the dorm fell silent.
"You care to talk about it, Lian?" Rui's voice was cold, on the edge of sarcasm. He strode slowly to the center of the room, eyes scanning the others like a predator taking measure of prey. "Good. The point is: none of you are worth considering. You keep your friendships, your small team effort, while I take my own path. That's why I'm always one step ahead of you."
His gaze collided with Lian's, smoldering. "And you, Lian… always attempting to be peacemaker. It makes you weak. You'll never understand what it takes to reach the top."
The words cut deeper than any punch. Anger flushed to Lian's chest, fury coiling with the desire to retort back. But he unballed his fists, his tone calm though his throat burned.
"Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm not strong. But being strong without trust only isolates you, Rui. One day you'll understand."
There was silence for a moment. Then Rui smiled—a vile, hollow thing—and left, closing the door behind him.
The dorm inhaled awkward silence. Chen growled to himself, Xia's face grim, and the others shiftedrestlessly. Lian lay back again, but the weight in his chest never dissipated.
Later, during the night, Rui stood alone under the moon's silver light, the courtyard silent except for leaves that shuffled in the wind. He leaned back against the chill stone wall, looking at the stars but seeing much more ancient.
The flashback came unbidden.
A boy much younger, bruised and battered, kneeling in the dirt. Harsh voices echoing through his ears.
"You're useless, Rui. Without strength, you're nothing."
His fists clenched, the sting of failure biting harder than any wound. The only warmth he remembered was his sister's gentle hand brushing dirt from his cheek, her words a whisper of comfort.
"You don't have to do it alone, Rui."
But she was gone now. Erased by a world that was more callous than he had ever experienced, with nothing left to him but the lesson carved into his heart: rely on no one.
The recollection faded away, but the emptiness it left behind was heavier than ever. Rui laid a hand upon his chest, calming his breath.
"I don't need them," he said to the darkness. "I can't need them."
The following morning, Instructor Mei gathered the class to the training field. Her eyes were just as sharp as always, but today, there was a difference—a sparkle of excitement.
She glared at the sixteen faces before her, her lips pursed into a thin smile. "Your time of peace is over. From today on, you train for the academy's toughest test—the Tianxia Tournament."
Gasps and murmurs erupted at the same time.
Xia's eyebrows leapt up. "Tournament? You mean… against other classes?"
Mei nodded. "Not just that. You'll be facing the seniors as well. This is not a spar, it's a test of skill, strategy, and willpower. All your hidden flaws will come to light."
Chen slapped his hands together with glee, fists clenched with excitement. "At last! A chance to prove we're worth something!"
Others, however, seemed uncomfortable, exchanging uncomfortable glances.
Rui, in the rear, crossed his arms, face unreadable.
Instructor Mei's voice cut through the whispers. "Two weeks. Two weeks to prepare yourselves as weapons. Then into the arena. Whether you shall rise… or fall… will be decided then."
The weight of her words settled in their bones.
Lian's heart thumped, half fear, half determination. His eye darted to Xia, who met his for an instant before looking away, smiling, as if already picturing the challenge.
The class broke into grumbling again, rivalries bubbling under the surface. Chen slapped a hand across Lian's shoulder. "This is it! You and me, we'll show them all.".
Lian nodded, but his mind returned to Rui, standing off to the side, the shadow in his eyes colder than ever.
The road that lay before them would test not just their strength, but all that bound—or broke—them.
And with the tournament looming, Class 1-C's fragile bonds would be tested to the limit.