The arena was smaller than I expected.
Circular. Enclosed. Barriers humming faintly along the edges.
Too controlled.
Sora stood beside me, shoulders tense, eyes darting around. "So… what's the plan?"
"There isn't one," I said.
He laughed nervously, unsure if I was joking.
Across from us, our opponents stepped forward. Two fighters. Confident posture. Matching insignias on their jackets.
A real team.
One of them cracked his knuckles. "Looks like we got lucky."
The referee raised a hand. "Match begins in three."
Sora inhaled sharply. "I'll stay back and—"
"Do whatever keeps you alive," I said.
He nodded quickly.
"Two."
I adjusted my stance slightly. Nothing obvious. Just enough.
"One."
The barrier flashed.
They moved first.
Fast. Coordinated. One rushed Sora immediately while the other came straight for me.
Predictable.
I stepped aside as the punch passed where my head had been. No counter. No wasted motion.
The attacker frowned.
He swung again, faster this time. I caught his wrist, twisted just enough, and let momentum do the rest. He hit the ground hard, breath knocked out of him.
A second later, a shockwave rippled from the other side.
Sora had activated something. Light flared briefly. The rushing opponent stumbled, disoriented.
I walked forward.
The crowd was louder now. Not cheering. Just confused.
I tapped the second fighter's shoulder.
When he turned, I struck once—precise, controlled.
He collapsed.
Silence followed.
The referee hesitated, then raised a hand. "Match… over."
Sora stared at the ground, then at me. "You said you weren't strong."
"I said I wouldn't get in the way."
Medical staff rushed in. The barriers dimmed.
From the stands, reactions spread unevenly. Some impressed. Some suspicious.
Team Arata was watching.
Takumi's expression didn't change, but his eyes stayed on me longer than necessary.
Sora exhaled shakily. "We won."
"Yes," I said. "And now it gets annoying."
He didn't understand that yet.
But he would.