The center circle had become a wasteland after a savage, beast-like melee swept through it.
The movements of the three of us grew significantly more cautious than before. Not a single one of these guys was a pushover.
The same calculation flickered through everyone's minds: if you overcommitted to attacking one side, you'd get sandwiched by the other guy waiting for an opening.
'In that case.'
My gaze met Satoru Gojo's for a fraction of a second in mid-air.
Not a single word was exchanged, but our eyes flashed with a spark of perfect mutual agreement.
First, get rid of the most troublesome guy. It was an unspoken alliance to clear out the "easiest" target, Suguru Geto, before settling the remaining family grievances between us.
As the two of us slowly turned our heads to glare at him, Geto's eyebrows twitched.
"Oh, boy..."
The moment Geto hurriedly crossed his arms to raise a guard—
Thwack!
"Urgh!"
Gojo's long, heavy front kick buried itself into Geto's abdomen first. In the exact moment Geto's solid facial guard dipped slightly from the impact.
I kicked off the floor, lunging forward with a Superman punch that carried my entire weight, slamming it straight into his jaw.
CRACK!!
"K-gh...!"
A perfect syncopated combination from front and back.
Geto's body was hoisted into the air and unceremoniously hurled right outside the white line of the basketball court's center circle.
"Sigh..."
Letting out a short, indignant sigh, Geto dusted himself off and trudged over to sit next to Shoko on the stage.
"And in last place~"
"...Shut it."
Geto replied grumpily to Shoko's irritating teasing, resting his chin on his hand.
With the intruder gone, only two remained within the circle: me and Satoru Gojo.
"Well then, shall we keep playing?"
Gojo grinned, stretching out his long limbs into a fighting stance.
Gojo's reach was beyond imagination. Every time I tried to close the gap to strike his face, he used the superior length of his lead hand to block my vision while peppering my face with sharp jabs. When I tried to force my way in closer, he kept a suffocating distance by pushing my stomach back with front kicks.
"Wow, damn. He reaches out and hits me, reaches out and hits me again. This is totally unfair."
I bit my lip in annoyance. The out-boxing harassment coming from that insane reach was definitely tricky.
However.
'This isn't a deathmatch where we kill each other; it's a game where the winner pushes the other out of the circle.'
The answer was simple. I dropped my posture extremely low, covering my face tightly with both arms, and charged like a mindless bull straight into Gojo's chest.
"Are you stupid?"
Gojo snorted, attempting to fire a counter-punch at my face while simultaneously stepping backward.
But Gojo's blue Six Eyes suddenly wavered violently as he went to throw the punch.
'Wait. If I take one more step back here, or if I get pushed by the momentum of his charge... I'll cross the line.'
The fatal flaw of the "ring out" rule. The pride of Satoru Gojo—who hated losing more than dying—slammed on the brakes.
Ultimately, Gojo stopped backpedaling, planted his feet firmly, and absorbed my reckless charge with his entire body head-on.
THOOM!
The sound of a heavy collision. Thanks to Gojo holding his ground, we ended up locked together at the very center of the court.
Extreme close-quarters combat. At this distance, Gojo's long, superior reach became utterly useless.
"Gotcha, you little brat."
Without hesitation, I violently grabbed Gojo by the collar and swung with my free hand. Gojo didn't back down either; to avoid being pushed away by my blows, he gripped my collar tightly and engaged in a savage brawl.
Thud! Smacker! Wham!
"...Hoh. So it's a 'Loser-Loose', is it?"
Watching the dogfight from the stage, Geto muttered with interest. Shoko tilted her head.
"Huh? What's that?"
"It's a dueling rule that was popular among 16th-century European aristocrats.
It wasn't exactly grabbing each other's clothes like that, but rather two people holding opposite ends of a handkerchief while brawling with their free hand."
Geto narrowed his eyes as he continued the explanation.
"It's an incredibly simple and cruel rule. Whoever can't stand the pain and lets go of the handkerchief loses. Look at those two. The moment they let go of each other's collars, they'll be pushed back for a ring-out loss, so they can't let go no matter what. It's literally 'Loser-Loose'—the one who looses his grip is the loser."
Regardless of his commentary, Gojo and I continued our bloody collar-clutching struggle inside the center circle.
Punch! Bop! Thump!
Right as we were rolling around like beasts, refusing to let go while trading blows—
Rattle— BANG!!
The heavy steel doors of the gymnasium burst open as if they were being destroyed, and a familiar yet terrifying silhouette appeared.
"...You brats."
It was our homeroom teacher, Masamichi Yaga.
A thick vein was prominently bulging on his forehead.
"I told you to do self-study in the classroom, and you're already having a bloody fistfight in the gym on your very first day?!"
POW!! WHACK!!
Two merciless disciplinary knuckles filled with Yaga's fury landed squarely on the crowns of my and Gojo's heads in succession.
"GYAAAH!"
"OWW!"
Feeling as if our skulls were about to split, Gojo and I rolled on the floor while still clutching each other's collars. But Yaga's rage didn't end there.
He marched over to the stage and remorselessly rained down knuckles on the heads of Geto and Shoko, who had been spectating.
Thwack! Thwack!
"Ow!"
"Argh! I was just watching!"
"What were you doing?! Spectating instead of stopping them?!"
Under Yaga's thunderous roar, the four of us had to sit on our knees in a line on the gym floor, rubbing the lumps growing on our heads.
"Phew..."
After bombarding us with a long lecture, Yaga pressed his hand to his forehead and let out a deep sigh.
"...Shoko. Please treat those idiots' injuries."
"Yes, sir."
Shoko grumbled as she stood up and walked over.
Gojo's face was a mess; my punches had split his lip and turned his cheekbones a swollen red.
Just as Shoko was about to place her hands on Gojo and me to channel Reverse Cursed Technique, I waved her off first.
"Oh, I'm fine."
Shrooo—
Clear Positive Energy surged from my fingertips and swept across my face. The split lip and bruises immediately began to fade.
"...Huh?"
"...What?"
Seeing that, Geto, Shoko, and even Yaga looked at me with stunned eyes.
Shoko had the strongest reaction.
"You... were a Reverse Cursed Technique user?!"
"Huh? Yeah. I mean, I can't heal others like you can. I'm only at a level where I can heal myself."
Following my nonchalant answer, a strange silence hung over the gym.
Everyone seemed speechless at the fact that there were two monsters capable of using Reverse Cursed Technique in a single first-year class.
Satoru Gojo, whose bruises were being erased by Shoko's warm healing energy,
Scanned me with interest from behind his sunglasses, a faint smirk curling on his lips as he thought to himself.
'... This guy is actually pretty interesting.'
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