Saturday afternoon, the abandoned school building.
Natsukawa Sosuke stood in the center of the room, slowly rotating his wrists and ankles.
This was already the tenth day.
In those ten days he had endured fourteen sparring sessions straight out of hell. This morning he had nearly had his arm torn off by one of Ayanokoji's joint locks.
Only one round left.
Natsukawa lifted his gaze to the boy across from him, hands still in his pockets, face as calm as ever.
''Can you keep going?'' Ayanokoji Kiyotaka asked, noting Natsukawa's ragged breathing. For once his tone carried a hint of concern. ''We just finished this morning; your muscles can't have recovered. If it's too much we can continue tomorrow.''
Now that their mutual-aid deal was in place, Ayanokoji showed considerable patience and friendliness toward his sole confidant and friend.
''No need. I'd rather not carry this pain into tomorrow.''
Natsukawa's split lip curled into a grin, tugging at the bruise and drawing a soft hiss.
''This is the last one, Ayanokoji.''
His eyes blazed with a do-or-die resolve.
''This afternoon I'm not holding back.''
''Even if I have to lie in my room like a corpse tomorrow, I'm going to make you look at least a little rattled.''
(Stubborn fool… but that stubbornness isn't unpleasant.)
Ayanokoji gave a faint shake of his head, then slowly drew his hands from his pockets, slipped off his uniform jacket and tossed it onto a broken desk.
''All right.''
He rolled his neck and settled into an easy stance.
''Since you're so eager, I'll get a little serious myself—consider it respect for your perseverance.''
For the first time in ten days Ayanokoji removed his jacket before a match.
The air seemed to freeze.
No referee, no whistle.
Between flickering shadows Natsukawa moved.
Bang!
The floor groaned. Natsukawa shot forward like a shell, covering the distance in an instant.
No probe, no feint.
A straight punch aimed straight at the face.
(He's faster.)
Ayanokoji's pupils narrowed.
(Compared to day one his explosive power and hand speed have jumped a level. Even in the White Room this growth rate would be anomalous.)
Ayanokoji didn't meet it head-on; he tilted his head slightly and the punch whistled past his ear.
But Natsukawa didn't pause.
Using the torque of his waist he whipped a low kick at Ayanokoji's shin.
Smack.
Ayanokoji raised his knee to block; the two shinbones cracked together.
Pain flared, yet Natsukawa didn't even frown. He twisted oddly off the rebound and, hand now a blade, slashed at Ayanokoji's carotid.
Fast, precise, ruthless.
All offense, no defense.
Ayanokoji stepped back and parried.
Thud—thud—thud!
The sound of fists and feet echoed through the empty building, raising dust.
Natsukawa fought like a tireless machine, pouring out every technique he had learned from the system or absorbed through beatings—left hooks, elbows, knees—everything fused into one relentless assault.
(Is he reading me? No—this is pure instinct.)
Calmly deflecting the blows, Ayanokoji assessed.
(Every time I knocked him down he corrected his movement before the next round. This animal adaptability is astonishing.)
(Give him a few more years… he could become a real problem.)
Ayanokoji looked at the red-eyed, sweat-soaked boy and felt not annoyance but admiration.
(Then let's push a bit further and see where your limit lies.)
The instant Ayanokoji shifted to press the attack, Natsukawa changed tactics.
He surged in, ignoring the gaping opening in his guard, hands hooking for Ayanokoji's collar.
(Going for a throw? But your center's too high.)
Ayanokoji read it at once, dropped his weight and prepared to flip him with a shoulder throw. His hands were already on Natsukawa's arm—one twist and it would be over—yet…
At that moment Natsukawa's lips curved into a wild grin.
''Got you.''
(What?!)
Alarm bells rang in Ayanokoji's head.
Instead of yielding to the throw Natsukawa killed his own momentum with a motion that wrenched his shoulder with a sickening pop.
His left arm locked Ayanokoji's right in place.
(He set me up! He offered that opening just to trap me!)
A lose-lose gambit.
Using his own body as bait.
With Ayanokoji pinned, Natsukawa's right fist clenched.
Every ounce of strength, every shred of frustration, every throb of pain funneled into one punch.
''Hit—DAMN IT!''
Natsukawa roared.
The punch shot out so fast it tore the air.
(No time to dodge.)
Ayanokoji's eyes flicked. One arm trapped at this range even he couldn't evade completely.
He twisted his head aside and raised his left forearm to block.
Thud!
A blunt smack of flesh.
Natsukawa's fist, glanced off Ayanokoji's arm, still clipped his cheek and slammed into his shoulder.
The impact forced Ayanokoji back two steps before he steadied.
Natsukawa, drained, staggered and toppled.
Thump.
He lay on his back, chest heaving, gasping for air.
Everything hurt; the shoulder he had forced was on fire.
But… ''Haha… hahaha…''
Staring at the ceiling Natsukawa laughed, hoarse yet elated.
Because across his retina the golden line he had waited for finally flickered.
[High-intensity combat detected—Hand-to-Hand Proficiency increased.]
[Progress: 15/15]
[Basic Hand-to-Hand Mastery permanently locked.]
Whether it was placebo or not, the awkwardness in his movements vanished.
If they fought again now he was sure—even if he still lost, it wouldn't be a one-sided beating.
A hand appeared above him.
''You okay?''
Natsukawa ignored it; the last of his strength gone with the quest completion, he flopped spread-eagle on the floor.
''Can't move… lemme lie here a bit.''
Ayanokoji withdrew the hand, rubbed his reddening cheek and shoulder, and spoke with quiet, unmistakable approval.
''That punch—well done.''
''If I'd reacted any slower I'd probably be injured.''
(He actually did it. In ten short days he evolved from a raw beginner to someone who can touch me… Natsukawa, you really are interesting.)
''Hah… to be praised by the "masterpiece"… honored.''
Eyes closed, feeling the cool floor, Natsukawa smiled in satisfaction.
Their so-called sparring transaction was complete.
Listening to Ayanokoji's footsteps fade, Natsukawa finally let the tension of ten days unwind.
''It's… finally over.''
Read more chapters at patreon.com/Zeaser