Hayate staggered to his feet, his body trembling from exhaustion and the lingering shock of the near-death experience. His breaths came in ragged gasps, and his hands shook as he wiped soot and sweat from his face. Before he could take another step, Yūgao Uzuki rushed to his side, her face etched with concern.
"Hayate, are you okay?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly as she examined his soot-streaked face and the cuts on his arms. "Let me help you."
Hayate winced as she dabbed a cloth against a shallow cut on his cheek. "I'm fine," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. "Just... didn't expect him to go that far."
Yūgao's hands moved quickly, wrapping a bandage around a deeper gash on his forearm. "You pushed yourself too hard," she said, her tone a mix of worry and frustration. "You could've been seriously hurt."
Hayate glanced at Hui's retreating figure, his jaw tightening. "I'll get stronger," he said quietly. "Next time, I won't lose."
Yūgao sighed, her fingers lingering on the bandage for a moment longer. "You're so stubborn," she murmured, but there was no anger in her voice—only relief that he was okay. She hesitated, then added softly, "You don't have to prove anything to anyone, Hayate. Not to Hui, not to the class... not even to yourself."
Hayate's gaze dropped to the ground, his fists clenching and unclenching. "It's not about proving anything," he said, his voice low. "It's about... not falling behind. I'm supposed to be the strongest in our class. If I can't even keep up with a five-year-old, what does that say about me?"
Yūgao reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're not falling behind," she said firmly. "Hui's... different. He doesn't think like the rest of us. He's not someone you can measure yourself against."
Hayate looked at her, his expression softening slightly. "Maybe," he admitted grudgingly. "But it still stings."
Before Yūgao could respond, a mocking voice cut through the air.
"Isn't this the so-called 'strongest' in our class?"
Both Yūgao and Hayate turned to see Hyuga Yufumi approaching, a smug grin plastered on his face. "How does it feel," Yufumi sneered, "losing to a five-year-old?"
Hayate's temper flared. The frustration of his loss still gnawed at him, and now Yufumi—this arrogant coward—was pushing the wrong buttons.
"You want to find out firsthand?" Hayate growled.
Before Yufumi could blink, Hayate's blade flashed free from its scabbard. The cold steel hovered dangerously close to Yufumi's throat.
"W-Wait—"
"Don't think your little mind games fool anyone," Hayate snarled. His foot lashed out like a whip, slamming into Yufumi's ribs.
"Ahh!" Yufumi hit the ground hard, clutching his side. His face twisted in pain as he gasped for air. "You... you actually hit me..."
Hayate sheathed his blade with a sharp click. "What of it?" he muttered before driving his fist into Yufumi's face.
"Ugh!"
Punches rained down—hard, fast, relentless. Yufumi's screams echoed across the schoolyard, his voice thin and broken.
By the time Hayate finally stopped, Yufumi lay sprawled in the dirt, face swollen and bruised. Hayate exhaled sharply, the tension in his chest finally loosening. "Yeah," he muttered, "feeling better now."
Yūgao watched the scene unfold, her expression a mix of concern and exasperation. "Hayate," she said, her voice firm, "you can't just beat up anyone who annoys you."
Hayate shot her a sideways glance, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Worked this time, didn't it?"
Yūgao rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "You're impossible."