Author's Note:Hayato laughs six times this chapter. Five are genuine. One is forced. Find the fake laugh—it tells you everything about what he's actually doing here.
POV: Kaito Endo
Word Count: ~1,900
Hayato's flaming sword looked even more ridiculous up close.
Not because it wasn't impressive—the blade literally burned, white-hot flames wrapping around steel in patterns that shouldn't be possible without melting the metal. Impressive as hell.
Ridiculous because Hayato held it like he was posing for an album cover, all dramatic angles and unnecessary flourishes, grinning like this was the best moment of his entire week.
"FINALLY!" he shouted, loud enough that Kaito winced. "Someone with SPIRIT! Someone willing to CHALLENGE for territory like TRUE warriors!" He pointed the flaming blade at Takeshi. "But I must warn you—my flames show NO MERCY to those who—"
"Can we just fight?" Kaito interrupted, already tired of the theatrics. "It's seven PM. Some of us have homework."
Hayato's grin somehow got wider. "HOMEWORK! He speaks of HOMEWORK when GLORY awaits! I like you, Substance Manipulator! Very well—let us dispense with speeches and speak with STEEL AND FIRE!"
Kaito glanced at Takeshi. "Is he always like this?"
"Apparently," Takeshi said. He looked at Hayato's team—Daichi standing with his hands in his pockets, not in any kind of combat stance. Shiori watching them with sharp eyes, analyzing but not aggressive. "Four on three. Your fourth member isn't here."
"Ah, yes, our fourth." Hayato waved the sword dismissively, flames trailing. "She's running late. UNRELIABLE! But no matter—three is sufficient for this challenge!" He looked at his teammates. "Daichi! Shiori! Prepare for—"
"Actually," Shiori interrupted, her voice calm compared to Hayato's volume, "I think this should be one-on-one matches. Not a brawl. Testing individual skill, not just overwhelming force."
Hayato blinked. "But where's the DRAMA in—"
"One-on-one," Shiori repeated, firmer this time. "Three matches. Best two out of three wins the shrine for tonight. Fair and structured."
Something passed between them—a look Kaito couldn't quite read. Then Hayato's grin returned, slightly different. Still enthusiastic but more... calculated?
"VERY WELL! One-on-one it is! A true test of individual PROWESS!" He turned to Creativity Club. "Who among you dares face my FLAMES OF DETERMINATION first?"
Kaito stepped forward before he could second-guess it. "I'll go."
Ayumi grabbed his arm. "You sure? Last night you said—"
"Last night I got my barrier shattered like paper. Tonight I'm not making barriers." Kaito pulled his arm free gently. "Tonight I'm fighting different."
He'd spent all day thinking about Red Lightning. About how his solid constructs had been useless against someone who could just punch through them. The stranger was right—relying on barriers was predictable. Defensive. Weak.
Time to be offensive.
The courtyard cleared, both teams moving to the edges. Hayato strode to the center, sword blazing, looking like some kind of deranged samurai from an anime.
Kaito stood opposite him, hands already manifesting the greenish-blue mist.
"RULES!" Hayato announced. "First blood, surrender, or unconsciousness! No killing blows! We are RIVALS, not MURDERERS!" He raised his sword in some kind of salute. "May the strongest—"
Kaito attacked.
Gas form, spreading fast, filling the space between them in a cloud of greenish-blue mist that obscured vision. Not waiting for speeches. Not giving Hayato time to monologue.
Practical. Brutal. Effective.
Through the mist, Kaito heard Hayato's delighted laugh. "EXCELLENT! No honor, only VICTORY! I respect this!"
Flames exploded outward, burning through the mist like it was nothing. Of course. Fire beat gas. Basic chemistry.
Kaito had expected that.
What he did next, Hayato probably didn't expect.
The mist condensed into liquid behind Hayato, where the flames hadn't reached. Dozens of small globules, mercury-like, positioned in a wide arc. Then they all launched simultaneously, not at Hayato but at his sword hand.
Hayato spun, slashing through three, four, five of the liquid projectiles. But there were too many angles, too many trajectories. One hit his wrist—not hard enough to injure, but enough to make his grip falter for half a second.
Half a second was enough.
Kaito solidified the liquid on contact, creating a hardened shell around Hayato's sword hand. Not a barrier. A binding. The substance locked Hayato's fingers to the sword grip, then extended up his forearm.
Hayato's flames intensified, burning through the substance—but it bought Kaito three seconds to reposition, create distance, prepare the next—
The binding shattered. Hayato burst through, flames coating his entire arm now, grinning like a maniac.
"CLEVER! Using my own counter against me! Make me waste energy burning through bindings!" He charged forward, sword leaving a trail of fire. "But speed beats cleverness!"
He was fast. Faster than Kaito had anticipated. The sword came in low, aiming for Kaito's leg—first blood, not a killing blow, but it would hurt.
Kaito created a liquid pool beneath his own feet, used it to slide backward, the substance giving him momentum without needing to move his legs. Dodged the strike by centimeters.
Hayato's laugh was genuine. "WONDERFUL! You're LEARNING! But—"
He feinted left, then came right, and Kaito realized too late he'd been baited. The sword was already moving, flames bright enough to hurt his eyes—
Takeshi's shimmer appeared between them.
The flaming blade reversed, flying back toward Hayato's own face. The swordsman ducked, barely, eyes wide with surprise.
"That's enough," Takeshi said, voice calm. "Match over. Kaito showed competence. Hayato nearly landed first blood. Call it a draw."
Kaito wanted to argue—he'd been holding his own, developing new tactics, he could have—
But his hands were shaking again. The rapid form-changes, the liquid-to-solid transitions, the constant manifestation—it had drained him more than he wanted to admit.
"DRAW!" Hayato sheathed his sword, flames extinguishing instantly. "I accept this! Your substance manipulator has SKILL and CREATIVITY!" He clapped Kaito on the shoulder hard enough to hurt. "Next time, I'll move faster! You'll need better tactics!"
"Next time I'll aim for your face," Kaito muttered, but couldn't help the small smile.
Hayato's grin was infectious.
"Match two!" Shiori called out. She looked at Ayumi. "Transformation specialist. Want to test yourself against our barrier user?"
Ayumi's golden glow flared. "Yeah. I do."
Watching Ayumi fight was weird.
She transformed into Tanaka Rei—the MMA fighter from school—and her entire posture changed. More confident. More aggressive. The morning practice had helped; she moved less like Ayumi-wearing-Rei's-face and more like she actually knew how to use the borrowed body.
Shiori created barriers—invisible walls of solidified air that appeared and disappeared with hand gestures. Defensive specialist versus transformation fighter.
The match lasted four minutes.
Ayumi learned fast. First minute, she threw herself at the barriers, trying to break through with brute force. Failed. The barriers were too strong.
Second minute, she changed tactics. Transformed into someone smaller, more flexible. Slipped around the barriers instead of through them.
Third minute, Shiori adapted, creating barriers in three-sixty coverage.
Fourth minute, Ayumi transformed into Shiori herself.
The barrier user hesitated—just for a second, thrown off by seeing her own face—and Ayumi tackled her. They hit the ground, Ayumi's hand pressed against Shiori's throat.
Not enough pressure to hurt. Just enough to prove the point.
"First blood equivalent," Ayumi said, breathing hard. "I win."
Shiori laughed, genuinely amused. "Psychological warfare. Using my own appearance against me. Smart." She tapped Ayumi's arm. "I yield."
They stood, and Kaito noticed they were both smiling. Not friendly exactly, but respectful. Recognition between people who'd tested themselves and found the other worthy.
"One draw, one win for Creativity Club," Takeshi said. "Final match determines the shrine."
Daichi stepped forward. The Bruce Lee wannabe had been silent this whole time, watching with analytical eyes. Now he looked at Akira.
"Phase-shifter versus kinetic amplifier," he said quietly. No dramatic speeches. Just assessment. "This'll be interesting."
Akira went translucent. "Yeah. It will."
The fight between Akira and Daichi was wrong.
Not wrong like unfair. Wrong like watching two people speak completely different languages and somehow communicate anyway.
Daichi moved in bursts—every punch, every kick amplified by his ability until simple movements created air pressure that hit like sledgehammers. When his fist connected with the ground where Akira had been standing, the concrete cracked.
But Akira was never there.
He phased through every attack, becoming intangible at exactly the right microsecond, then solidifying to counter. Except his counters were just as ineffective—every time he landed a hit, Daichi's kinetic amplification meant the impact bounced back, hurting Akira as much as his opponent.
Stalemate. Two abilities perfectly countering each other.
Three minutes of watching them trade blows that didn't land and counters that hurt both parties equally.
Then Daichi stumbled.
Not from an attack. From exhaustion. His kinetic amplification was draining him, the recoil from his own enhanced movements accumulating damage.
Akira noticed immediately. Went solid, swept Daichi's legs, put him down.
"Yield," Akira said, breathing hard. "You're hurting yourself more than I'm hurting you. This is over."
Daichi lay on the ground for a moment, then laughed—bright and surprised. "Yeah. You're right. I yield."
Shiori helped him up while Hayato bellowed, "TWO TO ONE! Creativity Club claims VICTORY! The shrine is YOURS for tonight!"
But he didn't sound upset. He sounded... pleased?
Kaito caught the look Hayato exchanged with Shiori. Satisfied. Like they'd gotten exactly what they wanted.
"Wait," Takeshi said slowly. "This wasn't about the shrine at all, was it?"
Hayato's grin shifted. Still enthusiastic, but more genuine now. Less performance.
"The shrine?" He laughed. "We train in three different locations. Don't need this one specifically." He gestured to all of them—Creativity Club and his own team. "This was about ASSESSMENT! Seeing if the rumors were true! If you were actually SKILLED or just talked about!"
"You challenged us to test us," Ayumi said. "Not to win territory."
"Correct!" Hayato sheathed his sword. "And you PASSED! Four competent fighters with developing teamwork! You're not Red Lightning's level yet, but you're not EASY PREY either!" His expression became more serious. "Which means when trials start, we should consider ALLIANCE rather than opposition."
Silence in the courtyard.
"You want to ally with us?" Takeshi asked carefully.
"Not formal alliance. Too early for that. But..." Hayato gestured between the two teams. "Information sharing. No hunting each other before trials. Mutual defense if someone like Red Lightning tries to eliminate us early." He grinned. "And occasional GLORIOUS COMBAT to keep skills sharp!"
Shiori stepped forward, more diplomatic. "What Hayato means is—there are six teams, maybe more. Some are hunting. Some are hiding. We'd rather know our neighbors are competent allies than potential threats. Tonight proved you're the former."
Kaito looked at Takeshi. Saw the leader processing, calculating.
"We'll consider it," Takeshi said finally. "But we need to discuss it as a team first. This is too big to decide on the spot."
"UNDERSTANDABLE!" Hayato clapped him on the shoulder. "Take your time! We'll be training at the eastern warehouse tomorrow if you want to talk more! For now—enjoy your HARD-EARNED shrine!"
Sword Team left the way they'd arrived—Hayato's dramatic exit involving jumping over the shrine's torii gate while his teammates used the normal path, shaking their heads with fond exasperation.
Once they were gone, Creativity Club stood in the shrine courtyard, processing what had just happened.
"That was weird," Ayumi said.
"That was smart," Akira corrected. "They tested us without revealing their full capabilities. Got information while giving away minimal intel themselves. And they positioned themselves as potential allies, making us less likely to view them as threats."
"So we got played," Kaito said.
"We got recruited," Takeshi said. "There's a difference." He looked at each of them. "But Akira's right. Hayato might seem like a loud idiot, but that whole performance was calculated. He's smarter than he acts."
"So what do we do?" Ayumi asked.
"We train," Takeshi said. "Use this shrine tonight like we planned. And tomorrow, we discuss whether alliance with Sword Team helps or hurts our chances." He smiled slightly. "But tonight? Tonight we won our first territorial dispute. That counts for something."
They spent the next two hours training in the essence-rich shrine grounds, and Kaito noticed the difference immediately. His substance formed faster, held longer, responded more precisely.
Maybe claiming territory had actual benefits beyond just reputation.
By the time they left, Kaito felt both exhausted and energized. They'd fought. They'd won. They'd been tested and found competent.
Progress.
Walking home, his phone buzzed with a group chat message.
Hayato:EXCELLENT BATTLES TONIGHT! Looking forward to future GLORIOUS COMBAT! Also—Red Lightning asked about you. Told him you were FORMIDABLE OPPONENTS! He seemed... interested. Watch your backs, friends! 🔥⚔️
Kaito stared at the message.
Red Lightning was asking about them. Actively interested now, not just passively aware.
They'd wanted to be noticed. To be seen as dangerous.
Careful what you wish for.
Thirty days left.
And everyone was watching.
[To be continued in Chapter 11...]
Author's closing note:Hayato sent that emoji-filled text himself. It wasn't Shiori being diplomatic or Daichi being cautious. What does that tell you about who Hayato actually is when he's not performing? Also—he said Red Lightning "seemed interested." Past tense. Meaning they've already talked. When?
Alliance with Sword Team: Good idea or trap? Drop your take 👇
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