Mark woke up sore.
He swung his legs off the bed slowly, testing the weight on his knees before standing. Yesterday's fight was still sitting in his muscles. He made it to the bathroom without stopping, and that alone felt like a win.
The hot water hit his skin hard. He stood under it for a minute, eyes closed, letting the steam work through his joints. When he looked up at the mirror, the bruises were gone. Not faded — gone. Like they'd never been there.
His shoulders still ached if he moved wrong, and walking wasn't smooth yet. But he could walk.
Whether he could keep up with Austin's training plan was a different problem.
Doubts came and went, but they didn't stick. He was getting stronger. Slowly, messily, but he wasn't stopping.
He shut the water off, dried off fast, and pulled on boxers. No point wasting time. He dropped straight into his routine on the cold floor.
5 push-ups. 5 sit-ups. 5 squats. 30-second plank.
Each one felt like garbage. His arms shook on the last push-up. His legs burned on the third squat. But it was easier than yesterday. Barely. His body was adapting, bit by bit, even if it didn't feel like it.
When he finished, he was breathing hard, sweat cooling on his skin. He grabbed the 250ml bottle on his desk and drank half of it in one go. Cold water helped clear his head.
He pulled on a plain blue zip-up hoodie, black jeans, and his old sneakers. Nothing fancy. He didn't need it.
Halfway down the stairs, he heard Mary giggling.
She was with that girl from the alley. The one he'd tried to save and failed. The memory hit him quick — the way she'd looked at him when it went wrong. It still made his jaw tighten.
"Hey, Mary."
He kept his hands folded, face neutral, stopping on the second-to-last step.
"Oh, hello big brother. You look wonderful today."
Mary's tone was too polite. He knew that voice. He shook his head and smirked despite himself.
"What do you want?"
Mary's friend Alicia stared at him for a second, then looked away.
"Well, brother, as you know, Mom won't be back until tonight."
"So?" Mark leaned against the railing, arms crossing.
"So I was thinking of having a little get-together with my girlfriends."
"What if I refuse?"
Mary smiled, innocent as hell. Too innocent.
"Then I'll have to tell Mom how her son got beat like a punching bag yesterday."
Mark winced at that. He hated being reminded. He let out a short breath and shook his head.
"Fine. But if you get caught, it's on you."
He didn't wait for an answer. He pushed off the railing and walked out before she could push it further.
"Thanks, big bro!"
The door clicked shut behind him.
Inside, Alicia watched the door close, quiet for once. Mary noticed and grinned.
"Careful, Ali. If I didn't know better, I'd think you had a crush on my brooding brother."
"He's kinda cute."
Mary froze for half a second, then burst out laughing. Alicia hit her arm, face going red.
"Hey! Stop laughing."
---
Outside the house, Mark walked the streets with his hood pulled low. The taser sat heavy against his ribs, hidden under the hoodie for emergencies. East Brook had taught him that emergencies came fast and without warning.
He moved calm, but not relaxed. Eyes scanning storefronts, alley mouths, the way people lingered too long on corners. Old habit. He didn't stop until he was a block away from home, then flagged a taxi with a short wave.
"Where to, kid?"
The driver didn't look back. Eyes stayed on the road, voice flat.
"North Brook."
Mark answered short, slid into the back seat, and let the door shut. The car pulled away from the intersection of North and East Brook, tires bumping over cracked asphalt.
Outside the window, the city changed slowly. Buildings were still old, paint peeling, windows patched with tape in places. Nothing like Uptown. But the streets were cleaner. Less trash in the gutters. Fewer kids watching from shadows with that hungry look. The air didn't smell like smoke and rust here.
_How odd._
Mark frowned, leaning forward a little. East Brook felt like it was holding its breath. North Brook felt like it had let it out a long time ago.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
*Austin:* meet me at the bus stop.
*Mark:* Ok I'm almost there.
He tucked the phone away, thumb brushing the screen one last time. The taxi rolled to a stop at the curb.
Austin was already there. Cream turtleneck, black dress pants, sandals like he'd just decided socks were optional today. He smiled when he saw Mark, adjusting his glasses out of habit.
"It seems you've finally made it."
"Yeah, hope I didn't keep you waiting long."
Mark scratched the back of his head, smiling back. His ribs twinged, but he kept it off his face.
"Not at all, Mark. Come, let me show you around."
Austin turned and started walking, hands in his pockets, pace easy. Mark fell into step beside him.
As they moved, Austin pointed out street names, gave quick rundowns of what each block was known for. "That bakery's been here since I was ten. The park over there—good for studying after school. Watch for Mr. Chen's dog, he bites." He sounded like a laid-back tour guide, not a fighter ranked #4 in 1A.
Kids passed them. Some in school uniforms, some in worn hoodies, faces rough from East Brook spillover. All of them nodded, or waved, or called out "Hey, Austin!" with a grin.
"You're pretty popular around here, huh?"
Mark kept his voice even, but there was surprise under it.
"Yeah, that's mostly because of my job."
Austin chuckled, easy and unembarrassed.
"What is your job, anyway?"
Mark asked as they crossed the street, keeping pace.
"You're about to find out."
Austin stopped in front of a modest red house with a small front gate. The paint was chipped, but the yard was clean. Flowers grew along the edge of the walkway.
"Welcome to my home."
He pushed the gate open and held it for Mark.
"Do come in," Austin said, stepping inside first.
---
Inside, the house was simple but warm. White wallpaper, the color of beach sand, made the space feel bright even with the curtains half-drawn. The living room held a low table, two worn couches, and a flat-screen TV that looked like it had seen a lot of late nights.
"Nice place."
Mark let out a low whistle, smiling for real this time.
"Wait till you see my room."
Austin was already heading for the stairs, voice light.
They climbed. Mark's legs reminded him they'd done work earlier, but he kept pace. On the walls, framed photos caught his eye — younger Austin, laughing, arm slung around a man who had to be his dad. Both of them looked lighter there. Easier.
Upstairs, Austin opened a door and barely got a word out before a blur of blonde hit him.
"You sure took your time, Austin. I was beginning to think you abandoned me."
The girl had him in a hug before he could brace, squeezing tight.
"You should really stop doing that, Eva."
Austin wheezed, cheeks going red as he tried to pry her off.
"Sorry, I just can't resist."
She let go, eyes flicking to Mark, sizing him up in one glance.
"So whose your friend?"
"Ah, this is my new classmate and friend, Mark."
Austin adjusted his glasses, back to normal.
"Mark, this girl here is Eva. She's a second year at our school. I tutor her on Sundays."
"Friend, huh?"
Eva grinned and grabbed Mark's hand, shaking it hard.
"Well, any friend of my little cutie Austin is a friend of mine as well."
Her grip was wrong. Too steady, too strong for a second-year who looked like she spent Sundays with flashcards. Mark noticed, but didn't say anything. He just nodded as she let go.
"So you're a tutor, huh? Can't say I didn't see it coming."
Mark sat on the nearest chair, letting his shoulders drop for the first time since he left home.
"So what are you planning for my training, Austin?"
Austin stood straighter, smiling like he'd been waiting for that question.
"I'm glad you asked, my friend. All this time I've been thinking about what's best for you. An absolute beginner doesn't need complex techniques yet. We need to train your eyes."
"What do you mean by that?"
Mark frowned, genuinely curious.
"Eva, please show him."
"Show me wh—"
Mark didn't finish. A fist blurred toward his face. Instinct took over and his eyes slammed shut. The air rushed past his cheek. Then a light pat hit his forehead.
"That's what I meant."
Austin's voice was calm, but there was weight behind it.
"You have very good observation skills, almost on par with me, even. But that won't matter if you close your eyes the moment you're faced with an opponent. So for the next week…"
"I see."
Mark exhaled, the lesson settling in. He hated how obvious it was now that it was said out loud.
"How was that, my cutie? Wasn't I great?"
Eva looped an arm around Austin again, grinning.
"Please stop doing that, Eva."
Austin's blush was back, full force.
Mark tuned them out for a second, staring at his own hands.
_He's right. If I can't keep my eyes open in a fight, I'll never land a hit, let alone win one. I'm gonna work hard. I'm gonna fix this._
The room kept buzzing with their dynamic, loud and easy. For the first time today, Mark felt like he knew exactly what to do next.
---
*Meanwhile, across town*
The sky over the general hospital was low and gray, clouds pressing down like they were listening.
Adrian stood at the entrance, holding a bouquet of flowers. Baggy, tattered striped shirt. Camouflage cargo pants. Timberlands caked with dust. Two gold rings on each hand, and the heavy "A" chain resting against his chest. He looked out of place and completely at home at the same time.
In front of him, four guys blocked the door. Leading them was Aaron — Blue High, ranked #3 in 1A.
"So you're the famed Golden Boy, huh?"
Aaron's grin was sharp. His crew shifted behind him, closing the circle.
"Well, you certainly look flashy. Why don't we change that?"
Adrian's expression changed. The usual lazy smirk was gone. His eyes went cold.
"Today isn't a good day."
His voice was flat. Final.
"So it's either you get out of my way, or you die."
Under the cloudy sky, faces met.
Whether Adrian walked out alone would be seen soon enough.
---