The rain spit against the Academy windows, casting a soft, hazy glow over the training grounds. Inside the clubroom, the air thrummed with a jittery mix of excitement and nerves.
"Alright, listen up!" Ryu declared, slamming his palm onto the desk. "As of today, we are officially a registered club: The Super Duper Ultimate Black-Belt Fighting Club for Young Rookies in Training!"
Silence hung heavy.
"...We're really keeping that name?" Eve asked, folding her arms.
Asahi sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. "Apparently, Ryu refused to budge."
"It has pizazz!" Ryu insisted. "And besides, our first official event is coming up—a Beginner's Challenge Match!"
Eve's pointed ears twitched. "A challenge match?"
"Yep!" Ryu nodded, practically bouncing. "It's a competition between rookie clubs to establish rankings. If we do well, we get funding—and a shot at future tournaments!"
Asahi straightened in his seat. "Seriously? Who are we up against?"
Ryu grinned wide. "Team Savage Spark. A trio famous for crushing opponents with brute strength. They've never lost."
Asahi and Eve shared a defeated look. Of course it wouldn't be easy.
"And when is this happening?" Eve asked warily.
"Tomorrow morning!" Ryu announced proudly.
"WHAT!" Asahi and Eve's combined shout rattled the windows.
"Now, now, calm down," Ryu said, waving a hand casually. "We'll whip into shape tonight!"
"But how? The training grounds are basically a swamp," Asahi pointed out, gesturing to the flooded patch of grass outside.
"Then we'll train here!" Ryu declared, standing dramatically atop a chair. The wood squeaked beneath him.
Eve scowled. "There's no way I'm doing that."
Yet when she looked over, Asahi was already on the floor, counting out push-ups. "One! Two! Three hundred forty-six!"
"That's the spirit, Asahi!" Ryu clapped enthusiastically. Eve shot them both a glare.
"Fine," she muttered. "I'll give it a try."
"Alright then!" Ryu roared. "Team Savage Spark, here we come!"
—
Training montage commenced.
Ryu perched atop Asahi's back while he struggled through push-ups. "Come on! One more!"
Asahi's arms quivered. "I... can't..." he gasped.
Ryu thumped him on the shoulder. "That's just weakness leaving your body!" He spun toward Eve. "And you! No slacking!"
"I'm not slacking!" Eve snapped. "I'm practicing my summoning ritual!" She resumed tracing intricate sigils in the air.
Ryu's face lit up like a light bulb. "We're missing something!"
Without explanation, he bolted out the door.
Asahi collapsed onto the floor, wheezing. "By the time we fight, we'll be dead."
Eve giggled behind her hand. "You're not wrong."
Their laughter barely settled before the door slammed open, nearly unhinging from the frame.
"I got the boombox!" Ryu shouted, brandishing it above his head. "Who's ready for some tunes?"
"Oh brother," Asahi chuckled as Eve and Ryu erupted into fits of laughter.
"Let's get this party started!"
—
Asahi's eyes cracked open. "Ughhh... what happened?"
The room spun slightly as he tried to sit up—and found Ryu's face hovering inches from his.
"Ahhh!" Asahi shoved him away.
It looked like all three of them had passed out in the clubroom. Dust motes floated lazily through the air. Asahi turned his head to spot Eve curled in a hammock, clutching a teddy bear to her chest.
A vein bulged from his forehead. Well... at least she's getting her beauty sleep!
The ancient grandfather clock groaned out a chime. Twelve o'clock already?
Asahi slapped Ryu's shoulder.
Ryu grumbled without opening his eyes. "Whaddaya want, Jim?"
"Huh? Who's Jim?"
"My bad. Bartholomew?"
"It's me, Asahi! When does our match start?"
Ryu cracked one eye open. "Relax, it's not till twelve-thirty."
A bolt of panic shot through Asahi's chest. "It's twelve right now!"
At once, Ryu shot up, shaking Eve awake.
"We have to go! We're gonna be late!"
The three bolted down the hallway, still half-dazed.
"I didn't even finish getting ready!" Eve protested, trying to fix her disheveled hair as she ran.
"We didn't have time!" Ryu called back.
Asahi pointed ahead. "There! The arena!"
The building loomed before them, its spires piercing the overcast sky. They skidded to a halt at the entrance, gasping for breath.
"What time is it?" Asahi wheezed, hands on his knees.
Ryu fished out his phone and squinted at the screen. "Uh... it says it Eleven Twenty?"
Before he could slip it away, Eve stormed toward Asahi, seized him by the collar, and shook him with unexpected strength. "You're telling me I had an extra hour to get ready?"
Asahi laughed awkwardly, hands raised in surrender. "Hey, you know what they say—early bird gets the worm."
Ryu flashed a dazzling grin. "He's not wrong. Besides, now we've got time to scout out the competition."
Slowly, Eve's grip loosened, though the look in her eyes promised this conversation wasn't over yet. The three trudged into the arena's main hallway, the buzz of conversation and distant cheers growing louder with each step. Banners of various rookie clubs hung from the high ceilings—each more extravagant than the last.
I wonder what Ryu has planned for our banner? Asahi thought to himself.
A booming voice echoed over the intercom. "Welcome, everyone, to the 37th Annual Rookie Clash Challenge! Matches will begin shortly. Participants, please report to the staging area!"
Ryu practically bounced with anticipation. "This is it, guys! The big leagues!"
Eve rolled her eyes. "It's a rookie match."
"Exactly! The biggest of the small leagues!" Ryu said, completely unfazed. He spun around and pointed toward a hallway lined with booths and registration desks. "Let's check out the competition."
Asahi trailed behind, tugging down the tie of his slightly rumpled uniform. "Maybe we'll get lucky and they all got hemorrhoids?"
"What?" Eve glared.
"I dunno, I was just trying to be positive."
They weaved through the crowd, pausing to glance at teams flexing, chanting, and even doing synchronized warm-ups. Team after team radiated confidence—or at least a very aggressive version of it.
Ryu's eyes widened. "I have a good idea for our entrance, hear me out—"
"Oh boy." Eve crossed her arms. "What is it?"
"So, I was thinking we have to do something that has never been done before. You thinking what I'm thinking?"
Eve shook her head. "Not even a little bit."
"We got the boombox, so we should make a theme song!"
"I'm in!" Asahi exclaimed.
"What, no!" Eve rebutted.
"Awww, no fun." Ryu pouted.
"Don't worry, Ryu, me and you can do this together if Ms. Snoozefest doesn't want to." Asahi shot Ryu a grin, but it seemed he wasn't paying attention.
"There," Ryu whispered, jerking his chin toward a trio with lightning badges on their uniforms.
Ryu's face had gone dead serious. "That's them. Team Savage Spark."
The crowd seemed to part around them without anyone saying a word. The trio stood perfectly still, their uniforms sharp, pristine—military-grade intimidation. Lightning bolt insignias flared silver against crimson vests, and their boots looked like they shook the earth's core with each step.
The leader, the girl, stood in the middle again—short, wiry, and wrapped in barely restrained menace. Her jet-black hair was tied into a sleek braid, eyes narrowed with clinical focus. The two boys at her flanks looked like they'd been chiseled out of stone, arms folded across their massive chests.
Asahi gulped audibly. "Okay, yeah. Hemorrhoids aren't saving us from that."
Eve tilted her head, analyzing them with cool interest. "The leader… she's channeling something. Spirit energy, maybe. It's subtle but controlled. Dangerous."
Ryu huddled Asahi and Eve away from their opponents. "We don't need flashy muscles or super high spirit power when we have killer entrance music—"
"We don't have entrance music," Eve cut in.
"So what's the real plan? Or do you not have one?" Asahi's worry washed over his face.
"Don't fear, I have a plan. Eve, do you have a destructive spirit of some sort that can knock them out of the ring?"
Eve's eyes glanced toward the clouds. "Actually, I do, but the ritual takes too long to summon him—"
"Perfect," Ryu interrupted. "Then at the very start of the match, you can try to pull off that ritual, and that might just be the ticket to our victory."
"Wait a minute." Eve paused. "What even are the rules for this fight, er... whatever." Ryu pulled his phone out from his pocket and went on the official website where the rulebook is held. Eve snatched Ryu's phone and read the following:
1. All battles will be a 3v3 no matter how many members you have.
2. If you fight past the ref's whistle, you may be suspended or even expelled.
3. If all foes are unconscious or knocked out of the arena, then the match is over.
4. All clubs participating must be official and accepted by administration.
5. If you are not a combatant and you enter the battle arena, you will be fined.
6. If any manslaughter or murder occurs, you may be expelled or arrested.
"These rules seem simple, but back to our plan, what are you guys going to do?" Eve glared at Asahi and Ryu.
"Asahi here will be our punching bag." Ryu presented Asahi like a luxury car.
"WHAT!" Asahi stepped back. "Why me!?"
"Look, you're a dragon and have hard skin, so you can take more hits than me and her combined. We're counting on you to distract those two muscleheads." Ryu slapped Asahi's shoulder.
Asahi took a long sigh and leaned on the railing behind them. "Fine."
"And me, I'll take on that wizard girl one-on-one." Ryu pointed to himself.
A loud voice on the intercom interrupted. "If your club's name is called, I'd like you to head over to the check-in. Glory Blue, The Super-Duper Ultimate Black-Belt Fighting Club for Young Rookies in Training, Savage Spark, and Red Flare."
A sweat droplet rolled down Asahi's forehead as he stared down the muscular men. I have to take hits from not one but two people! They better be paying us good for this.
As the trio approached the check-in desk, Eve muttered under her breath, "After this we better rename the club."
The official at the booth—a squat man with a clipboard and a very judgmental mustache—looked them over and arched a brow. "You're The Super-Duper Ultimate Black-Belt Fighting Club for Young Rookies in Training?"
"Yes sir!" Ryu beamed.
The official blinked twice, jotted something on his clipboard, and waved them through. "Good luck... I guess."
—
The staging area behind the arena buzzed with restless energy. Teams lined the walls, some stretching, others meditating or humming bizarre chants. Asahi paced like a trapped animal, muttering calculations of how to walk out with the least number of injuries. Eve was off to the side, drawing a complex circle on the ground in chalk, lips moving in silent incantation. Ryu? He was thinking of which song they should use as their entrance music.
"Alright, crew!" he called, sliding into a crouch. "Quick huddle!"
Asahi hesitated. "Do huddles help with CTE?"
"No," Eve said dryly. "But maybe we can channel your fear into motivation."
"Thanks, Eve. Really feeling motivated." Asahi's sarcastic tone reeled in a glare from Eve.
They joined in, heads close, Ryu whispering like a coach before the big game. "Listen. We've got one shot. We go hard at the start. Eve, summon your spirit as fast as you can. Asahi, stall the big guys—trip them, yell at them, pretend you have rabies, I don't care. Just buy time. I'll keep that girl occupied."
Asahi rubbed the back of his neck. "Do we even know what she does?"
"She asserts much spirit power, well, according to what I'm sensing. Anyways, here guys, take this." Ryu handed Eve and Asahi broken sunglasses and a torn bandana.
"Do we have to?" Asahi asked.
Eve already strapped on her bandana. "I think you know the answer."
The booming voice returned. "Next match: Savage Spark versus The Super-Duper Ultimate Black-Belt Fighting Club for Young Rookies in Training!"
Ryu jumped up and pushed his boombox further up his arm. "That's us, guys. Let's go!"
Asahi clenched his fists, pushed up his lopsided glasses, and took a step forward toward the light. "Let's do this!"