Azartsum and Haruko's fight ended ambiguously in the eyes of the elders. l was at a loss as to how the worst student in the entire village of Yasonia was able to defeat an excellent student
The elders whispered amongst themselves, discussing the outcome of the match. Some seemed impressed by Azartsum's unexpected victory, while others were simply perplexed by his display of skill. The onlookers were also buzzing with curiosity, wondering how the seemingly weakest student had managed to beat Haruko.
ⱬa-ⱬa went to the center of the arena and announced the opponents of the next battle.
The only thing I hope for is not me. Although I'm an excellent student, I'm inferior in the fight to Haruko, Shamil, and I'm clearly going to lose to Azartsum, who I'll have to face in the finals.
After a short pause, the judge says.
"Tuhaⱪ and Hat"
The two boys stepped into the makeshift arena, their young faces set in determination. Tuhaⱪ, with his short brown hair and defiant expression, faced Hat, a boy with unruly green hair and a serious demeanor.
The tension between the two young boys was palpable even from a distance. Tuhaⱪ stood with his arms crossed, glaring at Hat with obvious disdain. It was clear that he didn't respect the green-haired boy, viewing him as a mere tool for his overbearing parents' ambitions. Hat, on the other hand, was visibly nervous but resolute. Despite his timid demeanor, there was a steely determination in his eyes - he knew that failure was not an option. The crowd watched with bated breath, expecting sparks to fly.
I watched as Tuhaⱪ and Hat faced off in the arena, their expressions and body language telling a story without words. It was clear that there was a deep animosity between them, and as I observed them from a distance, my mind raced with questions. What had happened between them to create such hatred? Was it simply a rivalry fueled by their vastly different upbringings, or was there something deeper at play? Their body language spoke volumes - Tuhaⱪ's crossed arms and defiant glare exuded contempt and superiority, while Hat's nervous but resolute stance showed his fear of failure.
Tuhaⱪ lunged forward the moment the judge uttered:
"Begin."
He didn't just attack — he exploded into motion, as if all the rage pent up inside him had fired off in a single burst. Hat felt the blow before he even stepped into the arena — as if the pain itself had arrived ahead of the strike.
Tuhaⱪ was on him in an instant. His right leg arced through the air, aiming straight for Hat's stomach with brutal precision. A split-second delay, and the impact would have landed full force.
But Hat reacted.
His torso stayed nearly still, but his left arm snapped out — sharp and precise — and struck the back of Tuhaⱪ's knee, like a wooden lever. The kick's path faltered: Tuhaⱪ's leg swept past without connecting, slicing the air with its speed.
Hat stepped back, steady on his feet. Tuhaⱪ, thrown off by the unexpected counter, landed hard, both feet hitting the floor — and immediately launched forward again. Lower, faster, and even more ferocious, carrying that same fury that refused to be denied.
Tuhaⱪ appeared behind Hat in a flash, moving so quickly that his footsteps barely made a sound — like a gust of wind slicing across the arena. But Hat, trained to react without hesitation, caught the movement from the corner of his eye — a shadow slipping behind him.
Without thinking, he clenched his fist and swung back — a blind punch aimed straight at Tuhaⱪ's head.
But Tuhaⱪ was already dropping low, crouching beneath the strike. In the same fluid motion, he swept his leg out and struck Hat's supporting foot, knocking him off balance. The maneuver, sharp and sudden, was like a predator cutting down its prey mid-charge.
Hat crashed onto his back, shoulders slamming into the wooden floor of the arena.
By the time the echo of the fall faded, Tuhaⱪ was already back on his feet — eyes sharp, stance coiled, ready to strike again before Hat could recover.
The tension between the two young boys was palpable even from a distance. Tuhaⱪ stood with his arms crossed, glaring at Hat with obvious disdain. It was clear that he didn't respect the green-haired boy, viewing him as a mere tool for his overbearing parents' ambitions. Hat, on the other hand, was visibly nervous but resolute. Despite his timid demeanor, there was a steely determination in his eyes - he knew that failure was not an option. The crowd watched with bated breath, expecting sparks to fly.
I watched as Tuhaⱪ and Hat faced off in the arena, their expressions and body language telling a story without words. It was clear that there was a deep animosity between them, and as I observed them from a distance, my mind raced with questions. What had happened between them to create such hatred? Was it simply a rivalry fueled by their vastly different upbringings, or was there something deeper at play? Their body language spoke volumes - Tuhaⱪ's crossed arms and defiant glare exuded contempt and superiority, while Hat's nervous but resolute stance showed his fear of failure.
I recalled the moment when Tuhaⱪ's father had been diligently planting trees in the village, setting a great example for his son. Tuhaⱪ's father was a kind elementary school teacher, always willing to lend a helping hand. The memory flooded back to me of the day Tuhaⱪ and I had walked out of the store, carrying a bottle of water, and witnessed an inexplicable act. A man had ripped out a newly planted young tree, and without hesitation, he struck Tuhaⱪ's father on the head.
I watched the scene unfold, speechless. Tuhaⱪ had thrown the unopened bottle of water at the offending man's head, knocking him out cold. But what surprised me most was that despite the gravity of the situation, Tuhaⱪ's father seemed more worried about his son's behaviour than the unconscious man lying on the ground. He gently chided Tuhaⱪ, saying that he shouldn't resort to violence, but Tuhaⱪ was seething with anger.
I pondered what I would have done if I had been in Tuhaⱪ's shoes. Would I have reacted with the same uncontrollable anger, or would I have found a more diplomatic solution? Tuhaⱪ's father took the unconscious man to the hospital, leaving me to ponder my own reactions in his place.
I kept my eyes trained on the ongoing battle, lost in thought. Could I have stood up for my father if someone had threatened him? I watched Tuhaⱪ and Hat fight, their movements aggressive and calculated. It took all my concentration not to flinch as they exchanged blows.
As Tuhaⱪ fought, he declared his intentions. "I am here for victory," he proclaimed. "I will become the head of the village and change all the rules to my liking!" His words carried a hint of ambition and defiance.
While Tuhaⱪ and Hat exchanged blows on the battlefield, they continued their verbal banter. Hat countered Tuhaⱪ's declaration with a bold proclamation of his own. "I will become number one in the world," he declared, "and I will start with you, Tuhaⱪ." The elders in attendance chuckled, clearly pleased by the boys' ambitious demeanor.
My gaze shifted from the ongoing battle to the stands, where Hat's father was seated. Though he had cracked a smile at his son's ambitious words, there was no joy visible on his face. Instead, he watched the fight with an air of detached indifference.
I noticed that the teacher has been missing since Azartsum left.