"A-are we going to die?" My voice trembles as I glance at my lifelong friend. His head is bowed, avoiding my gaze. Slowly, he nods. The world around us begins to fade into darkness.
I wake with a gasp, clutching my chest, heart racing. Was it just a dream? My eyes dart around the familiar confines of my room, trying to steady myself. After a long breath, I mutter, "I guess it was just a dream."
I turn my attention to the calendar hanging on the wall, and a small smile plays on my lips. "Today's the tournament," I remind myself, a spark of excitement igniting within me. "Alright, today's the day I win." My gaze lingers on the photograph of me and Hiroy from when we were kids. "I'll show you how much stronger I've gotten. We won't be tying anymore," I whisper with determination.
I move to shower, the water doing little to calm my racing thoughts. As I get dressed, I grab my bag and my bokken before dashing downstairs. The crowd of students outside is overwhelming, but I slow my pace and take in the familiar chaos of morning.
"Shiro!" A voice calls from behind. I turn to find Yae, her smile warm and bright. "Good morning, Yae," I greet her.
"Good morning, Shiro," she responds with a smile that lights up her face. Ever since her confession, she's been joining me most mornings.
Flashback:
Behind the gym, I run a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling inside. I know why she called me out here, but... "Why now?" I mutter, kicking a small rock across the pavement.
Someone rounds the corner, and my heart skips a beat. It's not who I expected—it's Yae, my senpai in sword training.
"Y-Yae, is that you? Were you the one who called me here?" My voice is a mix of confusion and surprise.
Yae's cheeks turn pink as she looks away briefly. "I… I have something I want to tell you, Shiro," she says, her voice trembling. "Please, go out with me," she adds, bowing deeply.
My heart aches as I meet her eyes. "Yae, I like you, I really do… but I'm not right for you," I say quietly, looking down.
Flashback ends.
Walking to class with Yae feels surreal. She's everything I could want—smart, athletic, and undeniably beautiful. She asked me out, and I still can't believe it. I wanted to accept, but she deserves someone better.
As I enter the classroom, the familiar feeling of bloodlust hits me immediately. Without thinking, I draw my bokken. Our swords clash with a satisfying thud, a spark of excitement lighting up my chest.
"I see you're excited for the tournament, huh... Hiroy?" I smirk, watching as he hops back, giving us some space.
"I see you've kept up your training," Hiroy replies, his own smirk reflecting mine. His eyes are alight with the same fire I feel. He's just as ready for this as I am.
"Our match will be the finale, huh? I won't accept anyone beating me before you," I say, my voice fierce.
"Shouldn't you be more worried about losing to me, Shiro?" a teasing voice calls from behind. I turn to find Yāsûrah, Hiroy's girlfriend, standing with her usual smirk.
"There's no one who's trained harder than I have," I reply, tapping the fresh scar above my eye. "I've been waiting for the moment when Hiroy and I can have a real match—not one that ends in a tie."
Yāsûrah laughs softly, and as I walk to my seat, I hear the familiar chatter of the class resuming. Most of it is about how Hiroy and I are still best friends, despite how different we are. It's a valid question, though.
We push each other to be better. We're friends, sure, but we're also rivals. We drive each other to our limits and beyond. For me, it's about protecting the family I have left—my sister.
When I was seven, our house was attacked by mobsters. My father had his hands in some shady business I didn't understand. He told me to take my little sister and hide, but the rest is a blur. I remember only the mutilated bodies of my family and the sound of my sister crying.
Eleven years have passed, and life has moved on. I take care of the house, work, and train, while my sister enjoys life as best she can. She hasn't forgotten what happened, but her smile makes everything worth it.
The bell rings, signaling the start of homeroom. Our teacher calls out, and I stand when he mentions Hiroy and me. It's time for the national tournament.
As we walk through the halls to the gym, the excitement of the other students fills the air. Each one with a weapon or fighting style of their own. "Today's the day," I think to myself, a small grin tugging at my lips. "I can't afford to let my guard down."
Inside the gym, fifty opponents stare at the bracket on the wall. My first match is simple—my opponent's speed can't match mine. A quick knockout is all it takes. The other matches are a blur of quick victories, but when I reach the quarterfinals, things get interesting. My opponent's a senior in kendo, and we clash swords for minutes—feints, strikes, and shifting stances. In the end, I win by switching to capoeira, exhausting him. It takes five minutes, but I make it.
The semifinal is easier than I expected. I stick to judo and capoeira, dancing around my opponent. Exhaustion sets in for him, and a quick kick finishes it.
"I need to save energy," I think as I step onto the stage for the final match. "Hiroy's next. That's where the real test lies."
The final match is ten minutes long, and from the start, we charge. Fists, feet, and wooden swords clash with intensity. For five minutes, we're evenly matched. The crowd roars, but neither of us gives an inch. We switch stances, grab our kendo sticks, and the sound of clashing wood echoes through the gym. But when the buzzer sounds, the result is the same as always—another tie.
Breathing heavily, I reach out and shake Hiroy's hand. "Well, I guess it's another tie," I say, scratching the back of my head.
We chuckle together, walking off the stage side by side. But as we leave the gym, something feels off.
The streets are darker now. We're heading to dinner when the presence behind us grows more menacing. We take a back alley, knowing the figures will catch up. At least twenty of them round the corner, guns drawn.
"You think you can get away with that stunt at the tournament?" one sneers. We don't flinch, both of us ready to fight.
"Well, looks like there's no way out of this," I mutter, preparing for the worst. But before we can make a move, the sound of gunfire rings out, and the world goes dark.