Morning, Hoshino High.
You could feel it before you saw it.
The whispers. The camera flashes. The way every hallway sound stretched just a second too long when Tomo Kisaragi walked by.
"Hey—hey, that's him!"
"The Eraser!"
"No way, that scrawny dude?!"
"I heard he erased a whole baseball team in one punch!"
"That's not even how erasing works!"
Tomo shut his locker, trying to pretend it was all background noise. It wasn't working.
Someone had taped a drawing of him on the door—a heroic caricature with lightning bolts and the words "CLUB PRESIDENT: TOMO 'THE ERASER' KISARAGI" scribbled in glitter pen.
He sighed.
"Jin."
From behind a crowd of first-years, Jin Kubo popped up holding a phone.
"You saw it, right? You went viral overnight! Look—300k views! They edited your punch to orchestral music!"
Tomo pinched the bridge of his nose. "Delete it."
"Too late, Prez. The internet doesn't delete."
Jin slung an arm around him, practically glowing. "This is destiny, man. The Combat Club is alive!"
"By mistake," Tomo muttered.
"Bro, most of history's greatest inventions were mistakes—fire, penicillin, pizza—"
"You think I'm pizza?"
"Hot and universally loved? Kinda."
Before Tomo could respond, a crisp voice cut through the hall.
"Kisaragi. Meeting. Now."
Rika Fujimoto, clipboard in hand, stood in the doorway like she was about to deliver a lecture to an entire army. Her shadow practically screamed responsibility.
Tomo didn't move. "Can it wait?"
"No."
Jin winced. "Yeah, no. That's her 'you're doomed' face."
Club Room — 10:45 A.M.
The Combat Club had been assigned an unused supply room. The walls still smelled like disinfectant and regret.
Rika stood at the front with a whiteboard. On it, in painfully neat handwriting:
COMBAT CLUB — DAY ONE STRATEGY
Establish Structure
Find Members
Survive Karate Club Challenge
Beneath that, someone had doodled a badly drawn cat wearing boxing gloves.
Jin raised his hand. "I like the cat."
Rika ignored him. "Kisaragi, you're president. You need to act like one."
"I didn't even apply for this."
"You signed the form."
"By accident."
"Accidents have consequences."
Before he could argue, a new voice chimed in from the back.
"Speaking of consequences… who's paying club dues?"
Everyone turned.
Keisuke "Kei" Tanabe leaned in the doorway, pushing his glasses up with an exaggerated flourish. His hair was slicked back badly enough to look intentional, and his uniform shirt was half untucked in an "I meant to do that" sort of way.
"Who are you?" Rika asked flatly.
"Your salvation," he said. "Name's Kei Tanabe. Second-year, aspiring combat tactician, part-time romantic philosopher."
"You mean a pervert," Jin muttered.
Kei grinned. "Strategic pervert, thank you."
Rika sighed so hard it could've powered a turbine. "Why are you here?"
"Heard there was a new club in need of brains. You've got fists and chaos, but no strategy. I bring data, analytics, and emotional balance."
Aya Minori, who'd been quietly taking attendance at the side, raised an eyebrow.
"Emotional balance?"
"Mostly for the ladies."
Rika's clipboard hit him square in the forehead.
"Welcome to the club," she said coldly.
Lunch — The Courtyard.
The Combat Club sat under a tree, eating sandwiches like it was a press conference.
"Okay, so the Karate Club wants a match tomorrow," Rika said, flipping through papers. "Three rounds, winner gets gym rights for the semester."
"Why do they care so much about the gym?" Jin asked.
"It's the only room with working AC."
"Ah. Worth dying for."
Aya glanced at Tomo, who hadn't touched his lunch. "You're not nervous?"
He shook his head. "No."
"Because you're confident?"
"Because I don't care."
She smiled faintly. "You sound like you care."
He looked away. "I just don't like pointless fights."
Rika scribbled on her clipboard. "Then win fast. Point made."
Kei suddenly stood up, slamming his hands on the table. "I propose a pre-fight bonding session!"
Jin grinned. "Like karaoke?"
"Better," Kei said. "A training field trip. To build morale, unity, and abs!"
Rika blinked. "That's not how field trips work."
"Too late, I already forged the permission slip."
The Next Day — Hoshino High Sports Retreat.
Turns out Kei wasn't lying. Somehow, he'd filed official paperwork, and by morning, the Combat Club was on a rickety bus bound for a remote training camp.
"Why are we doing this?" Tomo asked, staring out the window.
Jin leaned across the aisle. "Team synergy, bro! It's what all the pros do before a big fight."
Rika muttered, "More like a recipe for disaster."
Aya smiled softly. "At least it's peaceful."
"Not for long!" Kei yelled from the front seat, holding up a whistle. "Welcome to Camp Combat Club! Schedule includes push-ups, mountain runs, and guided meditation by yours truly!"
Rika groaned. "If you blow that whistle once, I swear—"
FWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Jin laughed until the whistle hit him in the face.
Training Grounds — Noon.
The field trip was every kind of disaster.
Jin tripped over his own jump rope.
Kei tried to record everyone's "training footage" but forgot to remove the lens cap.
Rika threw him into a pond.
Aya was too busy laughing to stop them.
Meanwhile, Tomo had wandered off, helping set up tents on the hill. He worked quietly, like he'd done this before.
Aya found him hammering stakes into the dirt with smooth, efficient strikes. "You're surprisingly good at this," she said.
He shrugged. "My mom used to take me camping."
She smiled. "So there was a normal part of your childhood."
He looked at her for a moment—really looked—and said softly, "For a while."
The air between them lingered just long enough for a breeze to pass. Aya tucked her hair behind her ear and changed the subject. "Anyway, Rika's threatening to drown Kei, so maybe we should help."
"Maybe," Tomo said, standing. "Or let nature take its course."
Evening — Campfire.
Smoke curled upward into the stars. The group sat in a lazy circle around the flames—Jin roasting marshmallows, Rika cleaning her gi, Kei filming "behind-the-scenes content."
Aya leaned back, arms around her knees, watching the firelight flicker over Tomo's face. He was staring into the flames like they were whispering something only he could hear.
"You always look like you're thinking about something else," she said quietly.
He glanced at her. "Because I am."
"What?"
"Why people keep fighting even when it hurts."
She smiled faintly. "You sound like you hate violence."
"I do."
"But you're really good at it."
He didn't answer. The fire popped once, sharp and sudden.
Aya tilted her head. "You're not fighting to win, are you?"
He looked at her then—softly, almost apologetic. "No. I fight so I don't have to fight again."
For a second, she thought she saw something heavy behind his eyes. Then Jin screamed.
"FIRE! KEI'S ON FIRE!"
Kei was running in circles, his sleeve smoking from a botched marshmallow experiment. Rika tackled him into the dirt, smothering the flames while yelling, "I SWEAR YOU GUY'S ARE SUCH IDIOTS!"
Aya burst out laughing. Tomo almost smiled.
Next Morning — Back to School.
Rumors had tripled overnight. The Combat Club's training trip was trending on the school feed under #EraserCamp.
Students whispered as Tomo passed. Some looked impressed. Others looked afraid.
Kei strutted into class wearing sunglasses. "Mission success. The legend grows."
Rika dropped her bag on his desk. "We're a circus, not a legend."
"Circuses are profitable."
Aya sat near the window, scrolling through her phone. "They're saying the Karate Club captain trained under Daigo Minori."
Tomo looked up. "Her brother?"
Aya nodded. "He's not like the others, Tomo. He fights seriously."
Tomo didn't reply. He just clenched his right hand once, slow and quiet.
Rika noticed. "You're thinking about backing out."
He shook his head. "Just thinking about how stupid this all is."
Kei leaned in. "Then make it meaningful."
Tomo blinked. "Since when do you make sense?"
Kei smirked. "Accidents have consequences."
That Afternoon — The Gymnasium.
The sun dipped low through the gym's cracked windows, painting the floor gold.
At the far end stood the Karate Club captain—Daigo Minori—wrapping his hands in white tape, eyes sharp and focused.
Students filled the bleachers, phones out, voices buzzing. The word "Eraser" echoed like a challenge.
Rika handed Tomo his water bottle. "Last chance to withdraw."
He took it, silent.
Aya watched from the sidelines, her expression unreadable.
Kei whispered, "Showtime, Prez."
Tomo stepped forward into the ring. His shadow stretched long across the floor.
The Karate Captain bowed.
Tomo didn't move.
The referee raised a hand.
"Combat Club versus Karate Club—first round."
The whistle hovered between lips.
Tomo exhaled slowly.
Aya's fingers tightened around her phone.
And just as the whistle blew—
CUT TO BLACK.
[END OF CHAPTER 2 — "FIRST DAY AS A LEGEND"]