The alarm clock shrieked like a siren at 5:00 a.m.
Most students would groan, press snooze, roll over, and curse the cruelty of mornings. Not Issei Hyoudou. He was already awake, drenched in sweat, his palms pressed firmly against the floor as he powered through the hundredth push-up of the day. Every muscle in his body burned, his lungs screamed, and sweat streamed down his face like rivulets of determination.
"Pain is temporary. Complacency is forever," he muttered under his breath, counting each repetition aloud. Push-up eighty-five… eighty-six… eighty-seven…
By the time most teenagers were hitting their second snooze, Issei had already completed an intense calisthenics session, a three-kilometer morning run, and a twenty-minute cold plunge in his bathtub. And yet, he was smiling. Because he knew that while others slept, he was building something stronger: a body and mind that would not quit, that would not compromise.
Issei wasn't motivated by girls. He wasn't motivated by money, fame, or any of the trivial distractions most high school students chased. No, he had discovered a higher calling: pushing beyond his limits. Inspired by David Goggins, he had adopted a lifestyle that made even professional athletes look lazy. For him, comfort was death, and suffering was a gift.
He glanced out the window at Kuoh Town, the streets still bathed in pre-dawn silence. Other students probably slept, dreaming of weekends or video games, oblivious to the reality that every day wasted in comfort was a day his potential slipped away. Issei grinned. Let them sleep. He would conquer the morning—and the world—before most had even opened their eyes.
After finishing his run, he returned home for his ritual cold plunge. The icy water bit into his skin, stealing his breath, and yet he submerged himself fully, counting down each second with ferocious focus. "Four… three… two… stay hard… one… out." He emerged, shivering violently, heart racing, lungs burning. Already he could feel the mental toughness cementing itself in his mind.
By the time he dressed in his school uniform, meticulously arranged, his body was still buzzing with energy. He grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and began sprinting toward the bus stop. Not a casual jog—no, he sprinted at full speed, arms pumping, feet pounding the pavement, ignoring the curious glances from early-rising neighbors. Every step was a drill, a test, a measure of willpower.
At school, things didn't slow down. As he entered the gym, he spotted a pull-up bar in the corner. Without hesitation, he grabbed it and began an intense session, muscles quivering under the strain. Around him, other students began trickling in, stretching or chatting casually. One of them, a boy named Kaito, stopped in the doorway, staring.
"Uh… Issei, aren't you gonna… uh, wait for gym class?" Kaito asked nervously.
Issei shook his head, barely looking down from his pull-ups. "Waiting is for losers. Every moment wasted is a moment you don't earn. You think champions sit around? Champions embrace the pain."
Kaito's jaw dropped. Issei's arms trembled violently under his body weight, sweat dripping from every pore, yet he kept going. Finally, he let out a satisfied grunt and flipped himself off the bar, landing in a crouch like a predator.
"Stay hard," he muttered.
It was a mantra he whispered constantly, a creed that guided every action. Kaito blinked, uncertain if he had just witnessed a religious ritual or a psychotic episode.
By the time the first bell rang, Issei had completed a second set of push-ups, fifteen minutes of shadow boxing, and a series of mental drills designed to improve focus under stress. Other students shuffled toward classrooms, yawning and glancing at him nervously. He ignored them. They didn't understand the life he had chosen.
As he walked to class, backpack bouncing against his shoulders, he heard the unmistakable sound of commotion from the locker area. Curious, he approached—but not to gawk, as some students might. No. He approached with purpose. A boy had slipped, a girl's books spilled, and a mess of backpacks and notebooks lay strewn across the floor.
"Hold it right there!" Issei barked, dropping into a perfect one-arm plank to prevent himself from colliding with the chaos. His balance was flawless. He righted the fallen books, helped the girl gather them, and muttered: "Stay hard."
She stared at him blankly. "Uh… thanks?"
"No problem. Remember: pain is growth. Comfort is failure." He sprinted off toward his classroom, already calculating his next set of reps for lunch break.
Even in class, Issei's obsession with self-improvement didn't waver. While others doodled or tried to sneak naps, he meticulously measured his posture, corrected his breathing, and performed subtle isometric exercises in his seat. A sharpened focus burned in his eyes. He wasn't just attending school; he was running a life boot camp disguised as a high school experience.
The day progressed predictably—homework, lunch, study sessions. Yet everywhere he went, his Goggins-style intensity created small ripples of chaos. In the cafeteria, he accidentally knocked over a tray while doing a one-handed push-up against a table. At the library, he startled the librarian with a sudden plank while reciting motivational quotes. At the park on the way home, he sprinted past a group of girls playing catch, unintentionally stealing the ball mid-air, only to immediately perform burpees with it as part of his "reaction training."
By the time he returned home, dusk was settling over Kuoh Town. He collapsed on the floor for a brief stretching session, muscles screaming, lungs heaving. Sweat drenched his shirt. But he smiled, satisfied. Every day brought him closer to the edge—and every edge he faced, he dominated.
Then came the twist he didn't see coming.
It happened during his final set of pull-ups before dinner. A shadow fell over him—a figure rushing through the open doorway. He tried to flip down gracefully, but misjudged, landing awkwardly on his side with a grunt. Papers, weights, and his training equipment scattered around him.
"What the—!" he shouted, scrambling to regain balance.
The figure froze. It was fast, deliberate, and entirely non-human in its presence. A chill ran down Issei's spine. He had heard the stories—strange happenings in Kuoh Town, rumors about all sorts of spooky sh*t—but he never imagined it would come crashing into his life this way.
And yet, despite the fear prickling at his mind, Issei's training kicked in. He dropped into a perfect set of push-ups, counting aloud. "One… two… stay hard…" He forced himself to focus, ignoring the unknown figure, trusting only in the power of persistence, discipline, and mental toughness.
Somewhere deep in his soul, he knew that this was only the beginning. That the world he had prepared his body for—the real, chaotic, supernatural world—was waiting for him. And when it came, he would not flinch. He would endure. He would conquer.
Stay hard.