PREVIOUSLY ON CLASS 24
The council shook when Arakawa Tensei, the chairman's hidden son, revealed his power. Guards buckled under his presence, and whispers of "two beasts" spread like fire.
But the true shock came the next morning. Chairman Arakawa entered Class 24 himself. His gaze froze the room before his words fell heavy:
"Today, we bring before you two students. One… a classmate returning, though still on probation. The other… new among you. Enter, Arakawa Tensei."
Gasps erupted as the silver-haired boy stepped forward. Yet when the chairman turned to leave, Daichi bowed and reminded him.
Arakawa paused, then spoke again—slower, heavier.
"Your returning classmate… the flame child. He is still under care. The dungeon has been his home for quite some time."
Fear split the room. Tensei unveiled. Nesshou unchained. And with a final cutting line, the chairman left them trembling:
"Genta and Tensei in the same class… this ought to be fun."
The Next Day
The classroom buzzed before the lesson began. Two figures sat side by side at the heart of it all — silver-haired Tensei, calm as still water, and Nesshou, the flame child, silent but burning.
The girls whispered first, unable to hide their excitement.
Hanari (to Kurai, whispering):
"Just look at him… Tensei Arakawa. He doesn't even need to speak."
Kurai (soft smile):
"He feels untouchable. No wonder everyone's staring."
Emi (giggling):
"That hair… that face. I swear he's like a prince."
Misaki (smirking):
"Then I call dibs on the prince."
Hanae (dreamy):
"His eyes… so calm. It's like the world bends around him."
Rika (rolling her eyes, cheeks faint pink):
"Tch. Calm down. He's just a guy… a ridiculously good-looking guy."
Mei (whispering):
"Silver hair… in this class, it almost feels unreal."
Nozomi (pushing up glasses):
"Don't be blinded. Looks aside, his pressure yesterday wasn't normal."
Sayaka (grinning):
"And here I am, ready to risk it all anyway."
Airi (softly):
"He smiled when he walked in. I thought my heart would stop."
Ayame (to Kaori, half-joking):
"Bet half this class is already head over heels."
Kaori (chuckling):
"And the other half's too scared to breathe sitting near… him." [glances at Nesshou]
Then came the boys — their whispers heavier, sharper.
Hayato (nervous):
"Every time Nesshou moves, I feel like something inside him is watching too."
Itsuki (grumbling):
"I didn't come here to share a room with a monster."
Takumi (measured):
"He hasn't slipped yet… but the air changes when he's near."
Riku (to Souta and Reon):
"Don't go near him. Whatever he is, he's not safe."
Souta (whispering back):
"If he loses control… we're dead before we blink."
Reon (grim):
"We'd burn. All of us."
Ryuuya (low voice):
"I felt safer with him in chains."
Renjiro (tense):
"And now they want us to study with him? Insane."
Takeru (stoic):
"If he snaps, I'll strike first."
Akihiko (quiet, serious):
"You'd be ash before your blade left its sheath."
Naoya (trembling):
"I… I can't even look him in the eye."
Makoto (firm, jaw set):
"He's here. We endure. We adapt. Or we burn."
And then — the ones who did not flinch.
Reiji (arms folded, cool):
"Afraid of shadows and whispers. Pathetic. If he's dangerous, we deal with it when it comes."
Ibuki (low whisper, almost a scoff):
"They know nothing. Beasts? Chains? They only see the surface." [eyes locked on Nesshou] "I'm not afraid."
The room split down the middle — fear on one side, fascination on the other.
And in the center, Tensei and Nesshou sat unmoving, side by side. Two storms in silence
The whispers swelled like a storm. Praise for Tensei. Fear of Nesshou. The split in the room cut deep, and Nesshou felt every word like fire against his chest. His fists clenched under the desk, jaw locked tight. The heat in his veins screamed to rise, to burn it all away.
He pushed against the chair, about to stand—
But before he could move, another voice cut through the noise. Calm, sharp, impossible to ignore.
Tensei. Already on his feet.
He brushed his silver hair back with a casual flick, eyes scanning the room with the kind of confidence that silenced even the boldest whispers. His tone dripped with mockery as he spoke.
"Well… you all sure know how to make a hell of a noise."
The class froze.
Then, with a tilt of his head, Tensei turned to Nesshou. His gaze steady. His smile sharp.
"And you—" he gestured lazily toward him— "what kind of guy are you? They praise me like I'm untouchable, but fear you like a monster. Why's that?"
Before Nesshou could answer, Tensei's boot lashed forward—
CRASH!
Nesshou's desk toppled sideways, books scattering across the floor. Gasps rippled through the class, some standing half out of their seats, eyes wide.
Tensei leaned forward, smirk unshaken, his words striking like a blade:
"Let's fight. Right here, right now. And we'll see which of us is really stronger."
The room held its breath.
Ibuki's grin split the tense air like a blade. He pushed to his feet slow—deliberate, all swagger—and stepped forward with his hands loose at his sides.
Ibuki (loud enough for half the room):
"You think you're the big shot, huh? If you want a fight, don't pick on the broken kid. Pick on me. I'll take you."
The words landed like a dare. A few heads turned; a few girls gasped. For a heartbeat, the whole room hummed on Ibuki's challenge.
Tensei's eyes flicked up from Nesshou to Ibuki. The smile that had been nothing but cool pleasure changed—sharp, thin. The air around him shivered. Silver light pooled at the edges of his form, faint at first, then brightening, like moonlight thickening into steel.
The light crawled along his sleeves, around the collar of his robe. Ibuki's confident grin faltered. His shoulders stiffened. He tried to toss back a retort—but his voice died in his throat as the pressure struck him full. Ibuki froze mid-step, breath shallow, eyes wide. The bravado had been sucked right out of him.
Tensei (calm, cutting):
"I didn't ask for your opinion."
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. The words fell like a verdict.
Before Tensei could finish, movement snapped through the silence. Nesshou shoved.
It was sudden—raw force poured into one push. Tensei's balance broke. He stumbled backward, the silver glow skittering across the floor like mercury, and crashed into an empty desk with a heavy curse that silenced the room.
Books and pens rattled. A dozen pairs of eyes locked on Nesshou, on the furious set of his jaw, the way his chest heaved from the effort.
Nesshou (low, dangerous):
"You want a fight? Fine. Bring it on."
The classroom's tension was ready to erupt, but before the clash could break loose, the bell rang and students poured into the corridors in restless waves. Among them, two girls broke off in a rush—Emi Kawahara and Misaki Aozora—their voices tumbling over each other in excitement.
Emi (panting as she ran):
"Did you see that? Tensei and Nesshou— they're going to fight!"
Misaki (half-laughing, half-nervous):
"Not here though… they're heading to the training grounds. This is going to be insane."
Their words bounced down the hall, sharp enough to catch the ears of more than gossip-hungry students.
A shadow stepped into their path.
Daichi.
His armor caught the torchlight as he raised one hand, stopping them in their tracks. His voice was flat, edged with steel.
Daichi:
"What did you just say?"
The girls froze, glancing at each other before Emi blurted out—
"T-Tensei and Nesshou. They're— they're about to fight. In the training grounds!"
Daichi's eyes narrowed, the weight of his stare enough to silence the rest of Misaki's words before she could finish. His boots struck the stone with sudden force—
THUD. THUD. THUD.
—already moving. Already gone.
The girls stood breathless in the corridor, watching his cape vanish into the turn.
Misaki (whispering, wide-eyed):
"He didn't even wait…"
Emi (hugging herself, nervous excitement rising):
"Of course not. If those two clash for real—he might be the only one who can stop it."
The training ground stretched wide, the stone floor echoing every footstep. Students ringed the edges, their whispers choked down to silence as the two boys faced off at the center.
Tensei stood straight, silver hair catching the light, his smirk carrying the weight of arrogance. He spoke loud enough for all to hear.
Tensei:
"I'll warn you once. If you stand against me, you'll learn fast—I don't play on the same level as the rest of this class. So think carefully… before you embarrass yourself."
The words lingered in the air like a dare.
But Nesshou said nothing. No answer. No shift in expression. Just steady eyes locked on him.
Tensei scoffed, lifting his chin, letting his voice cut sharper.
Tensei:
"Silent, huh? Fine. Then let's settle this. Bring it on."
He spread his stance, waiting for Nesshou to move.
And then—he was gone.
Not vanished. Not magic. Speed.
The air cracked as if the world itself had flinched. One blink he was across the arena—next blink he was at Tensei's side, close enough for the silver glow around Tensei to flicker under the sudden pressure.
Gasps erupted from the ring of students.
"He—he disappeared!"
"No, he's just that fast!"
Tensei's smirk faltered for the first time. His silver gaze flicked sideways, catching Nesshou standing right there, so close their shoulders nearly brushed.
Nesshou still hadn't spoken a word.
From the edge of the crowd, Ibuki's eyes widened, the first real crack in his usual iron composure. For once, he wasn't smirking.
Nesshou's sudden movement had left nothing but a gust of wind and the tremor of stone underfoot. It was the kind of speed that rewrote what the eyes believed.
Ibuki's jaw tightened as a memory cut through him—Kenzo's blinding swiftness in their last spar. Back then, even he had struggled to follow it. But this… this was something else.
Ibuki (whispering, low, almost to himself):
"…He's faster. Faster than even Kenzo."
The words slipped out before he could stop them, and a shiver ran through the students close enough to hear.
For the first time, Ibuki wasn't sure whether his earlier whisper—"they know nothing"—still held true.
The crowd hadn't even finished gasping when Nesshou's body blurred. One instant across the arena, the next a flash of movement at Tensei's side—leg coiled, ready to strike.
Nesshou's kick whipped forward, sharp and fast enough to split the air. The ground cracked under the force of his launch, dust lifting around his heel.
But then—Tensei's eyes met his.
Cold. Silver. Unflinching.
For the briefest heartbeat, Nesshou's body locked. Not bound by chains, not held by flame—just a crushing weight pouring from Tensei's gaze, freezing his motion mid-swing.
Gasps erupted from the crowd.
And in that frozen moment—
Tensei moved first.
His leg shot upward with precision, faster than most could follow. His kick slammed into Nesshou's side with a dull crack, the force sending him skidding back across the stone floor. Sparks scattered under his boots as he dug in, stopping just before the edge of the arena.
Dust rose between them.
Tensei straightened, silver hair falling neatly back into place, his smirk never leaving.
Tensei (mocking):
"You're not really fast… are you?"
He replayed the moment in his mind—the blur, the crack of stone, the burst forward. It hadn't been natural speed. It was force. Propulsion. Flames igniting underfoot like a hidden engine.
His eyes narrowed, the smirk sharpening into something almost hungry.
Tensei:
"…You used your fire to push yourself. A booster."
He let the words hang, then tilted his head with a chuckle that dripped arrogance.
Tensei (grinning wider):
"So. You're a flame type. Good." He raised his hand slightly, silver aura sparking along his arm. "This is going to be fun."
Around them, the students didn't gasp. They didn't need to. They already knew. They only leaned in closer, breaths tight, waiting for the clash that was about to rip the ground apart.
The air between them cracked with tension, fire heat against silver aura.
Tensei moved first. A blur of white and steel strength, he lunged with a sweeping strike that would have floored any normal opponent.
But Nesshou was already gone. His heel slammed into the stone, a flash of flame bursting beneath his foot—BOOM!—and he rocketed sideways, reappearing at Tensei's flank. His fist ignited as he swung.
CRASH!
The impact tore a shallow crater in the ground where Tensei had stood—except Tensei wasn't there.
He'd slipped past, faster than expected, his training in the dungeon written in every precise movement. His silver gaze cut sideways—locking onto Nesshou's eyes.
For a split second, Nesshou froze mid-turn. Muscles locked, body stiff under that paralyzing stare.
Tensei (low, calm):
"Too slow."
His knee drove upward, colliding with Nesshou's ribs. The blow echoed across the arena like a hammer strike, forcing him back.
But before Tensei could chain another strike, Nesshou's flames erupted—FWOOOSH!—blasting backward like rockets, breaking the paralysis as the force hurled him clear. He skidded, spun, and landed on his feet, smoke curling from the ground where he touched down.
The crowd gasped, barely able to track the exchange.
"I… I couldn't even see their hands move!"
"They're not fighting like students… they're fighting like monsters!"
Nesshou wiped a smear of dust from his mouth, eyes narrowing. He didn't answer Tensei's taunts, but the flames licking his fists said enough.
Tensei cracked his neck, silver light shimmering faintly in his gaze, his muscles coiled like steel springs.
Then they both moved at once.
The arena shook as fire and silver blurred into motion. Every strike was too fast for most to follow—Nesshou exploding forward with fire-boosted kicks, Tensei meeting him with raw strength, each impact sending shockwaves across the stone.
BOOM! A crater opened where their fists collided.
CRASH! A wall cracked as Nesshou was hurled against it, only to rebound with fire snapping at his heels.
SLAM! Tensei ducked low, sweeping Nesshou's legs, only to eat a blast of fire that forced him to shield his eyes.
Neither boy relented. Silver speed against searing flames, strength against propulsion—two storms colliding, shaking the ground beneath them.
And the crowd? They could only cling to the railings, eyes wide, as the training ground itself threatened to give way under the weight of a battle that was far from over.
The training ground was chaos.
Nesshou surged forward first, fire bursting beneath his feet, launching him like a shot. His fist cut through the air toward Tensei's face.
Tensei's silver eyes snapped up, and for an instant, Nesshou froze mid-strike.
A counterpunch slammed into his chest, sending him sliding back across the stone floor.
But Nesshou recovered fast—palms striking the ground, fire igniting to push him forward again. He blurred back into range, driving a knee toward Tensei's side.
The impact shook the ground, but Tensei absorbed it, grinning as if the hit only fueled him.
"You'll have to do better," he said, voice steady, taunting.
Then he vanished.
One moment in front, the next behind—shoulder colliding into Nesshou's back, hurling him forward. Nesshou twisted mid-air, flames snapping at his heels, and flipped back upright. He dove with a blazing kick, striking the stone floor so hard the arena cracked in a spiderweb beneath him.
The crowd gasped as dust billowed upward.
But Tensei was already there. His elbow slammed into Nesshou's back, driving him down again.
The onlookers could only watch, wide-eyed.
"They're too fast," someone whispered. "I can't even follow them anymore."
Nesshou pushed to his feet, chest heaving, eyes burning hotter. His flames roared alive again, propelling him forward in another explosive burst. Fists met fists, kicks collided, every strike echoing like thunder. Sparks of fire and streaks of silver clashed again and again, shockwaves rocking the ground.
Stone shattered. Walls cracked. Every impact carved new scars into the training ground.
Neither yielded. Nesshou burned brighter, his movements fueled by flame-propelled bursts. Tensei countered with raw strength and speed, honed through countless hours of relentless training. They locked, broke, struck again, faster and faster, until the fight was little more than blurs of heat and light.
And then—
Another presence appeared. Heavy. Commanding.
Daichi.
He had been watching, and even he was stunned. His eyes tracked the blinding pace, the ferocity of their exchange.
"Their speed… their power…" he muttered under his breath. "This is far beyond student level."
And then he moved.
One heartbeat, he was on the sidelines. The next—gone.
The fight shattered to silence as both Nesshou and Tensei were suddenly wrenched from mid-strike. Daichi's hands gripped the backs of their necks with iron force, and in one swift motion he slammed them into the ground, pinning them both as if they were nothing more than reckless boys caught brawling.
The ground buckled under the impact. Dust exploded upward.
The students froze, the arena falling into stunned silence.
Daichi's voice was low, firm, and unyielding:
"Enough. Whatever you think you're proving, it ends here. Stand down—before I make you."
The dust still hung thick in the air when Daichi shifted his grip. With deliberate control, he released Tensei's neck but kept Nesshou pinned firmly to the cracked stone.
Tensei straightened slowly, brushing dust from his robe. His silver eyes flicked to Daichi's hand pressing Nesshou down. For the briefest second, something stirred across his face—not arrogance, not mockery, but something quieter. A flicker of recognition… or irritation.
But it vanished just as quickly.
He turned, sliding his hands into his pockets as if nothing weighed on him at all. His voice was smooth, casual, yet sharp enough to echo.
Tensei (smirking faintly):
"See you later… flames."
He walked off, steps unhurried, the crowd parting around him like water.
The other students followed, whispers buzzing, but none dared stay behind. One by one, they trickled out of the training ground, leaving Daichi and Nesshou in the silence of shattered stone.
The fight was over.
The last footsteps faded. The training ground was silent except for Nesshou's ragged breath and the low crackle of his fading flames.
Daichi kept his grip firm, hand pressing Nesshou's neck against the fractured stone. His voice was low, but it carried the weight of iron.
Daichi:
"What do you think you're doing? Your life is already tied to mine. If you throw yours away recklessly, you drag mine down with you. Is this how you want to repay that?"
Nesshou's jaw clenched, but he didn't speak. The fire in his chest felt colder under Daichi's words.
Daichi leaned closer, his tone cutting sharper
Daichi:
"Do you remember… in the dungeon? When you said all you wanted was someone to believe in you? I was that someone. I stood before the chairman, put my own name on the line, and fought to give you a chance."
He released Nesshou with a shove, stepping back.
Daichi (stern, voice like stone):
"And this is how you treat that chance? By throwing fists at the first rival that looks your way?"
For a moment, only the sound of dust settling filled the space. Then Daichi turned, cape shifting behind him as he walked toward the exit.
At the doorway, he stopped, his voice echoing across the shattered ground.
Daichi:
"Meet me at the dorm. Before midnight. Don't be late."
And then he was gone, leaving Nesshou kneeling alone in the broken silence of the arena.
The arena lay in ruins. Cracks split across the floor, dust drifting lazily through the shafts of fading light. Nesshou remained on one knee, breathing heavy, Daichi's words still burning deeper than any wound.
Silence stretched—until a voice cut through it.
Calm. Cool. Laced with a grin.
Ibuki:
"You've gotten stronger, Flames."
Nesshou's head jerked up. From the far edge of the training ground, Ibuki stepped out of the shadows, hands buried in his pockets, his smile sharp against the dim light. His eyes glowed with something between admiration and challenge.
He stopped a few paces away, tilting his head ever so slightly.
Ibuki (quiet, steady):
"Stronger than me… I suppose."
The words hung in the broken air like a blade suspended mid-swing.
[TO BE CONTINUED]
NESSGEEORIGINAL