The morning sun stretched across the neighborhood, casting long shadows on the narrow streets. Kai adjusted the strap of his backpack and started walking. Fifteen minutes. That was all it took from his aunt's restaurant to the gates of Tenshudo High School. Convenient, simple — that was why he had chosen it.
But now, standing in front of the tall gates, he realized this wasn't an ordinary high school.
The school crest was carved into a stone pillar by the entrance: a pair of crossed fists surrounded by laurel leaves. Beyond the gates, students were already moving across the courtyard, but not like normal students. Some jogged laps, some practiced stances with wooden swords, and others locked arms in grappling drills. The air carried the sharp rhythm of punches striking pads, the shouts of effort, the smell of sweat mixed with early morning dew.
Kai hesitated.
"This is… different," he muttered under his breath.
He wasn't a fighter. Sure, he had listened to Aunt Mei's endless martial arts stories growing up, and he had absorbed her lessons about discipline, but he had never seriously trained. He preferred tinkering with gears and wires, solving puzzles, fixing broken radios. Machines made sense to him. People didn't.
Still, here he was. A first-year in a school where martial arts weren't just extracurriculars — they were the identity of the place.
"Oi, you're blocking the way."
Kai snapped out of his thoughts. A tall boy brushed past him, his uniform slightly loosened, a black belt tied around his waist like it was part of the dress code. His eyes swept over Kai once, sharp and dismissive, before moving on.
Kai exhaled slowly. So that's how it is here. Hierarchy begins with strength.
The homeroom bell rang, pulling him deeper inside. The hallways were plastered with posters — upcoming tournaments, dojo recruitment notices, challenge boards with names written and crossed out. Trophies filled glass cabinets, each engraved with the name "Tenshudo High" in bold letters.
When Kai entered his classroom, conversations stopped for a moment. Dozens of eyes turned toward him — some curious, some already disinterested. He introduced himself in the plainest way possible.
"I'm Kai. Just moved here. Nice to meet you."
The silence stretched uncomfortably until a girl with a ponytail and a bright smile broke it.
"I'm Rina. Welcome! You don't look like you're part of any dojo yet. Don't worry, you'll figure it out."
Her words were warm, but her grip on the desk edge revealed calloused knuckles. She wasn't just friendly — she was strong too.
As the morning rolled on, Kai learned just how different this school was. Each subject was taught alongside martial arts training. History lessons traced the roots of combat styles. Physical education wasn't dodgeball — it was sparring. Even mathematics was explained through strategy analogies.
By lunch, Kai sat alone under a tree, quietly eating the sandwich Aunt Mei had packed for him. He was already exhausted, not from the classes, but from the stares. Students seemed to measure him not by grades or personality, but by something else — by how he would fight, if he could fight at all.
A shadow loomed over him.
"You're the new kid, right?"
Kai looked up. A second-year student stood before him, broad-shouldered, his uniform jacket hanging lazily off one shoulder. A group of boys hovered behind him, grinning.
"Name's Daichi," the boy said. His voice was calm, but his presence heavy. "Here at Tenshudo, there's only one way to earn respect. We fight after school. Don't run."
The group laughed as they walked away, leaving Kai frozen with his half-eaten sandwich.
First day, and I'm already challenged.
For a moment, he thought about ignoring it, about staying low until the attention faded. But then Aunt Mei's voice echoed in his head: Discipline is survival.
Kai clenched his fists. He wasn't sure how, but he knew one thing—
He wouldn't run.
Kai barely tasted the rest of his sandwich. His mind replayed Daichi's words over and over.
After school. Don't run.
It wasn't a request, it was a rule.
Around him, groups of students sparred casually, laughing when someone tripped or when a throw landed too hard. To them, fighting was as natural as breathing. For Kai, the thought of being dragged into a real fight on his very first day left his stomach twisting.
He stood and wandered the courtyard, pretending to explore, but really just trying to gather his nerves. That's when he noticed her — Rina, the girl from class. She was practicing Judo throws with a partner, her movements sharp yet smooth, like water flowing around rocks. After tossing her partner onto the mat, she glanced up and caught Kai watching.
"You've got the look of someone already in trouble," she said, wiping sweat from her forehead with a towel.
Kai hesitated. "…Maybe."
Rina tilted her head. "Let me guess. Daichi?"
Kai's eyes widened. "…How did you—"
She chuckled. "He challenges every newcomer. It's his way of reminding people who's on top. Don't take it personally."
"Easy for you to say," Kai muttered.
Rina studied him for a moment, then shrugged. "You've got two choices. Show up and fight, or don't show up and lose face. Either way, you'll get attention."
Kai sighed. "Great options."
"Relax," she said, her smile returning. "You might surprise him. Fighting isn't only about strength — it's about using what you have."
Her words lingered in Kai's mind longer than he expected. Using what I have…
Classes ended faster than Kai wanted them to. By the time the final bell rang, he already felt the weight of stares following him. Word traveled quickly in Tenshudo — Daichi had issued a challenge, and everyone knew it.
Kai made his way toward the back courtyard, a wide open space where unofficial duels took place. A circle of students had already gathered, buzzing with excitement. He caught whispers as he pushed through the crowd.
"New kid's done for."
"Daichi's gonna crush him."
"Wonder if he'll cry."
In the center stood Daichi, arms crossed, his presence commanding silence. His friends leaned against the wall, grinning like hyenas waiting for scraps.
Kai stepped into the circle. His hands felt clammy, but his mind ticked like a machine. He observed Daichi's stance — weight slightly forward, arms relaxed but ready. His movements screamed Karate. Direct. Efficient. Powerful.
"Didn't think you'd show," Daichi said, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
Kai's voice was steady, even if his heart wasn't. "You said don't run."
The crowd cheered at his answer. Daichi's smirk widened.
"Good. Let's see what you've got, newcomer."
The circle tightened. A teacher wasn't coming. No one would stop this.
Kai drew a slow breath. He wasn't a trained fighter, but his aunt's lessons weren't lost on him. Discipline is survival. Think. Observe. Adapt.
The first clash was about to begin.