Blake closed the clinic door after dropping Lucas off for treatment and getting himself checked a little too.
He muttered under his breath, thinking about how risky the fight had been. If he hadn't had onions to throw off his opponent, things might have ended badly. Still, he worried it wasn't over Jakeson was likely lurking somewhere, waiting for revenge. Blake knew Jakeson wouldn't let the humiliation slide and was eager to deliver a beating.
Shaking the thought off, Blake checked his phone and realized he was already late.
"Someone needs to fix this damn clock"he grumbled, moving faster toward his locker. He yanked it open, grabbed his biochemistry book and a few others, then slammed it shut. His hurried walk broke into a run; he was way behind schedule.
Just as he rounded the corner, he nearly collided with someone. The stranger shot a sharp kick toward his head, but Blake ducked just in time, the foot barely missing him. A pamphlet slipped from his books and fell to the floor, unnoticed.
"Sorry!" Blake shouted without looking back, sprinting down the stairs.
The figure, puzzled by the sudden encounter, glanced down and picked up the pamphlet.
Hours later, after a long biochemistry lecture, the teacher glanced at his watch.
"We'll call it a day. Since the alarm bell still isn't fixed, we'll continue tomorrow," he announced before leaving the room.
The class instantly filled with chatter.
Blake let out a tired sigh of relief as he packed up his books. "Next stop—the library," he muttered, sliding the next set of materials into his bag.
He headed for the door, stepping into the hallway. Just a few steps away, at his locker, stood Jackson.
Jackson leaned against his locker, arms crossed, when his eyes met Blake's. A slow smirk spread across his face.
"Hey, Blake," he said, straightening up and stepping forward. "Pretty funny, the way you used those onions."
Blake tensed, edging backward to keep distance. He didn't like where this was heading. "What makes you think I don't have more?" he shot back.
Jackson laughed, but the sound quickly turned into a harsh frown. "I don't think so."
Blake didn't wait another second. He bolted down the hallway, and Jakeson (Jack for short ) charged after him.
Blake rounded a corner, rushing down the stairs. Behind him, Jack's voice echoed, fierce and mocking.
"Running won't save you! I can keep this up!"
Blake's chest tightened. He wasn't built for running,he didn't play sports, and this was the longest sprint of his life. His legs burned, but he scanned frantically for an escape. Jack was closing the gap, his glare locked on Blake.
Desperate, Blake darted toward a side door and shoved it open. Just as he tried to slip inside, a powerful kick slammed into his back, sending him stumbling headfirst into the training room.
Blake coughed hard, struggling to catch his breath as Jackson stepped into the training room.
"You thought you were smart with those onions, huh, Blake?" Jackson said, walking closer with a cold grin.
Blake tried to steady himself, but Jackson grabbed him, spun him around, and clutched his collar.
"You made my face swell up, you little shit," Jackson growled, fist tightening. "I'll just return the favor."
He drew back his arm and swung but before the punch could land, something suddenly flew and smacked into the side of his head with a dull thud.
Jackson, furious, looked down to see what had hit him, It was a boxing glove.
He glared upward. "Who's the ba—"
The words cut off as his eyes froze.The training room was empty only four persons.
At the boxing ring stood two figures. One was tall, with black hair and cold, stern brown eyes.
"Bring it back," the tall one said flatly, holding out his hand for the other glove.
The chill in his tone made Jackson back off immediately. Blake, still panting, crouched to pick up the glove. His hands shook as he passed it to Jackson, who quickly handed it over, too afraid to defy the figure. Blake stood up.
"First years?" the tall figure asked, slipping the glove on.
Jackson gave a quick nod.
"Were you about to fight him?" the second figure spoke,a light-brown skinned boy with red hair and calm oxblood-colored eyes. He gestured at Blake.
Jackson nodded again.
"Cool," the redhead said with an easy smile, leaning against the ropes of the boxing ring.
The tall one removed the other glove but stayed silent.
The redhead went on, voice smooth but teasing: "Fighting in here without gear is prohibited. You must use the gear and the ring."
Then his smile widened. "And the ring just happens to be free."
He looked directly at Blake, eyes glinting. "Heeey… where are you going?" he called as Blake instinctively stepped back.
"Come on." He motioned for Blake to enter the ring.
Blake's first thought was to run.He didn't want any part of this, but something about the two figures made his legs freeze. There was an ominous weight in the air that didn't feel right.
"I can't fight," Blake finally said, his voice low but firm. "I'm just here against my will." His eyes shifted to Jack, who only glared back at him.
"Ohhh," the red-haired boy said with sudden excitement. "Against your will? You mean… you were bullied?" He turned his gaze on Jack. "So, you bullied him?"
Jack's expression twitched. "It's not like that! This asshole set off my allergies—he snuck onions into my pocket!"
"That's because you were beating the crap out of Lucas!" Blake snapped, cutting in.
The redhead burst into laughter, his calm oxblood eyes glinting with amusement. "Say, we're all first years… this is funny. Right, Theo?"
Theo[the tall, stern one]was already stepping out of the ring, a towel draped over his neck as he dropped his gloves in silence.
"The only way to settle this," the redhead continued, grin widening, "is with a fight. A friendly spar wouldn't be so bad."
"Sure," Jack answered eagerly, cracking his knuckles.
"That's the spirit," the redhead said, his tone dripping with encouragement.
Blake's stomach tightened. The word fight echoed in his head like a verdict. He glanced around the gym at the sweat-stained mats, the ring ropes that looked far too close,He didn't want this. He wasn't a fighter. The very thought of stepping into that ring made his chest hollow out, but the redhead's grin and Jack's hungry eyes left him with no way out.
Jack flexed his shoulders, already imagining the win. "Come on, Blake. Don't tell me you're gonna chicken out now."
Blake swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. Every instinct told him to turn, to run, but his legs felt anchored to the floor. If he refused, they'd mock him. If he agreed, he'd get torn apart.
The red-haired upperclassman tilted his head, voice calm but sharp. "You've got guts, standing here. Don't waste it. A few rounds in the ring will settle everything."
Theo, silent as stone, leaned against the wall with folded arms, his eyes narrowing slightly. He didn't speak, but Blake felt the weight of his stare.
The air buzzed with expectation. Somewhere in the background, gloves slapped together, and someone adjusted the ropes. The ring wasn't just waiting,it was calling.
Blake's palms were already damp. I don't belong here. I don't even stand a chance…
But the circle was closing in.
Blake soon found himself standing inside the ring,deep down, he knew it was the only way to end this.Jack would have gotten to him sooner or later, no matter where he ran. At least here, it would be controlled.
"What's your style?" the red-haired boy asked, leaning casually on the ropes.
"Hmm?" Blake blinked.
"Your fighting style,"the redhead repeated, his eyes curious. "What do you use?"
"I told you already,I don't fight," Blake muttered.
"Hmm ," the redhead hummed, studying him for a moment. Then he tossed Blake a set of sparring gear.
"The other guy uses boxing," he explained. "But he's still a beginner. You're in luck."
Blake caught the gear clumsily, unsure what to do with it.
"Oh, and my name's Diego, by the way,"
the redhead added with an easy grin.
"Blake," he answered at last, fumbling as he tried to strap on the sparring gear. His hands felt clumsy, his thoughts running in cqircles. Backing down wasn't an option not with Jack already geared up across the ring, eyes locked on him.
Diego, meanwhile, kept chattering, explaining the rules of the spar as if it were some kind of game. Blake barely heard a word.
The gym door suddenly swung open. Three figures stepped inside.
"Ahhh, just in time!" Diego called out with a grin, waving them over. "These first years are about to have a friendly match."
"Nice,"said the girl at the front.
Her hair was dark auburn, shoulder-length, with soft waves that framed her face. Her eyes were striking sharp yet seductive, with a pull that made it hard to look away. She wore a fitted black singlet that revealed her full cleavage, though a white sports jacket hung loosely over it. A bag rested casually on her shoulder, giving her a confident, almost effortless air.
"Are they sign-ups?" she asked, her gaze sliding between Blake and Jack.
"Nope. This one's to settle a conflict," Diego answered brightly.
"You see, Jake here is a bully," Diego announced, pointing straight at Jack.
"Hey!" Jack snapped.
"And Blake beat him once—by using his allergies against him," Diego went on cheerfully, ignoring Jack's protest. "So now Jake's trying to get revenge, and that's how we all ended up here."
"That's an easy way to settle a conflict," the girl in the black singlet said casually as she placed her bag down beside a locker.
"Exactly!" Diego grinned, then turned to Blake and Jack. "See? I was right." His tone rose with excitement. "And guess what? You two are lucky,you have a guest of honor today."
He pointed toward a girl with pale, peach-blond hair and cold blue eyes. Diego's words hung in the air: the Queen.
She was slipping her things neatly inside a locker, not even sparing a glance at the noise around her, as if none of it mattered.
"Let them hurry up," the shorter girl with cropped black hair said impatiently. Her tone was sharp. "The Queen has something else to do."
"Alright," Diego clasped his hands, glancing between the two opponents. "Are you ready?"
"Sureeee," Jake smirked, rocking side to side as he lifted his fists into a sloppy beginner's boxing stance.
Blake hesitated, then slowly raised his arms. Both hands came up to shield his face, elbows close, his body stiff with nerves.
Keep your chin down, guard your face… The thought flashed through his head as if an old article he'd skimmed online was suddenly his lifeline. It wasn't much, but right now, it was all he had.
Jack launched forward as if he had been waiting his whole life for this moment. He came in with a clumsy but aggressive beginner's combo;left jab, right cross, another jab,swinging with the excitement of someone who wanted nothing more than to land a hit.
Blake stumbled back, barely dodging each wild punch, until the back of his shoulders smacked against the ropes of the ring.
"Nowhere to run,"Jack sneered, his lips curling into a grin. He twisted his body, throwing a right hook followed by a left jab.
Blake flinched, bracing his arms tight to block. The impact rattled through his forearms, a sharp sting crawling up his bones. His teeth clenched against the twitch of pain.
"Tch. This is pathetic,"the short-haired girl scoffed, arms crossed, her sharp eyes narrowing on the two boys. "It's like watching two little girls slap each other. Meaningless. Honestly, we should end this now."
"Well, Blake already said he can't fight," Diego muttered, his voice a mix of pity and excitement as he watched.
"His name is Blake?"
The sudden calm, low voice pulled everyone's attention. The Queen finally spoke, her icy blue eyes fixed on the boy in the ring.
"Hm?" Diego turned, blinking. "Yeah… that's his name. Why? You seem… interested?" His grin widened as he studied her expression.
"I saw him earlier,"Veronica replied without shifting her gaze. Her tone was soft, detached, but carried weight that silenced the room. "He dropped something when we met."
Diego froze mid-grin. Even Theo, usually unreadable, tilted his head slightly at that. The short-haired girl paused, her lips parting in surprise. One by one, their eyes turned back to Blake who had his own battles.