After changing into his training uniform, Tyler stepped back onto the training floor.
The hall buzzed with energy.
Some students were practicing kicks against pads while others repeated footwork drills under the watchful eyes of the assistant instructors. The rhythmic sounds of feet sliding across the floor mixed with occasional shouts and corrections, creating an atmosphere Tyler had grown accustomed to over the past several years.
Instructor Kenta stood near the center of the hall with his arms folded.
"Pair up."
Students immediately began finding their assigned partners.
Elijah stretched both shoulders before looking toward Tyler with a grin.
"Looks like I'm stuck with you again."
Tyler smirked.
"You make it sound like a punishment."
"It is."
The two walked toward one corner of the training area where several pairs had already begun practicing.
Instructor Kenta glanced in their direction.
"Today's focus is transitions."
He demonstrated a sequence with one of the senior students.
"Don't rely only on strength. Use your opponent's movement."
After the demonstration, he clapped once.
"Begin."
Tyler and Elijah immediately assumed their stances.
For a few seconds neither moved.
Elijah narrowed his eyes.
"You've been smiling since you came."
"Have I?"
"That means you're planning something."
Tyler shrugged.
"Maybe."
"You always say maybe before doing something annoying."
"I learned from you."
Elijah looked offended.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Tyler laughed.
"Liar."
They slowly circled each other.
Neither rushed.
Around them, other students were already exchanging techniques.
Elijah suddenly leaned closer and whispered,
"You know..."
Tyler raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"I think Instructor Kenta enjoys watching people suffer."
Tyler almost laughed.
"You're only realizing that now?"
Elijah nodded seriously.
"Every class."
"He smiles."
"Then says, 'One more round.'"
Tyler nodded.
"That's true."
"And somehow..."
Elijah continued.
"...there are always five more rounds."
Tyler couldn't argue.
The statement was painfully accurate.
Both boys quietly glanced toward Instructor Kenta.
The instructor was busy correcting another student's posture.
Elijah immediately whispered again.
"I bet he doesn't even feel pain anymore."
Tyler joined in.
"I heard he sleeps in a horse stance."
Elijah's eyes widened.
"No way."
"I also heard he drinks bitter medicine for fun."
Elijah covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing.
"You made that up."
"Maybe."
Before Elijah could reply...
A sharp voice echoed across the hall.
"If you're done gossiping..."
Both boys instantly straightened.
Instructor Kenta hadn't even looked in their direction.
"...perhaps you can start practicing."
Tyler blinked.
Elijah slowly whispered,
"Can he hear everything?"
Tyler whispered back,
"I think he's supernatural."
"Enough talking."
"Yes, Instructor!"
Both answered together.
The moment Kenta turned away again, Elijah quietly muttered,
"Definitely supernatural."
Tyler laughed.
"Ready?"
Elijah rolled his shoulders.
A confident grin appeared.
"Oh."
"You finally asked."
He raised both hands.
"Get ready."
"It's going to hurt."
Tyler smiled calmly.
"We'll see."
Without another word, Elijah lunged forward.
His right arm shot toward Tyler's shoulder.
Tyler reacted instantly.
His elbow rose, redirecting the strike before it could connect.
The impact echoed softly through the hall.
Elijah immediately stepped to the side.
Instead of attacking again, he slipped behind Tyler's back.
His right arm wrapped around Tyler's neck, attempting a rear grapple.
Got you.
Or at least...
That was Elijah's plan.
Tyler suddenly bent forward.
Using Elijah's own momentum against him.
Caught completely off guard, Elijah lost his balance.
His body rolled over Tyler's back before landing awkwardly on the floor.
For one very confusing second...
He found himself sitting directly in front of Tyler.
Facing away from him.
"...Wait."
Before Elijah could react, Tyler's arm smoothly slid beneath his chin.
His forearm locked around Elijah's neck.
The submission was complete.
Elijah immediately raised his hand.
"Tap."
Another tap.
"Fine."
"You win."
Tyler released the hold immediately and stepped backward.
Then offered his hand.
Elijah grabbed it and pulled himself to his feet.
He rubbed the back of his neck dramatically.
"Seriously..."
"How are you this strong?"
Tyler shrugged.
"I don't laze around."
Elijah snorted.
"Yeah."
"Yeah."
"Mr. Try-hard over here."
Tyler let out a short laugh.
"Seriously though."
He crossed his arms.
"So why did you even join martial arts?"
Elijah blinked.
"What kind of question is that?"
"I'm serious."
Tyler tilted his head, genuinely curious.
"You complain every class."
Elijah puffed out his chest proudly.
"Can't I enjoy a little suffering while I train?"
He suddenly began throwing exaggerated punches into the air.
"Dishoom!"
"Dishoom!"
"Dishoom!"
Several nearby students looked at him strangely.
Tyler slowly placed a hand over his face.
"...You're still a high school student."
"So?"
"You're not the main character of some action movie."
Elijah stopped punching.
Tyler continued.
"And we're practicing mixed martial arts."
"Not boxing."
"So stop randomly punching the air."
Elijah lowered his fists.
"...Yeah."
"Whatever."
Then he pointed accusingly toward Tyler.
"And why are you lecturing me?"
"You've been learning fighting styles for what..."
He started counting on his fingers.
"Four?"
"Five years?"
"Taekwondo."
"Karate."
"And now mixed martial arts."
He folded his arms.
"What exactly are you planning?"
Tyler pretended to think very seriously.
"Hmm..."
"I've actually been considering joining fencing classes too."
Elijah stared.
His mouth slowly opened.
"...What?"
Tyler nodded confidently.
"I think swords look cool."
Elijah looked around the hall.
Then back at Tyler.
"Is there some war coming?"
"No."
"Then why the hell are you learning so many things?"
He pointed dramatically at Tyler.
"And why do you keep dragging me with you?"
Tyler leaned closer.
Then spoke in a mysterious whisper.
"You can impress girls."
Elijah froze.
For one glorious second...
He actually imagined it.
Standing heroically.
Holding a sword.
Girls cheering.
Someone asking for his number.
A cool breeze blowing dramatically through his hair.
Then reality returned.
He blinked.
"...Anyway."
He coughed awkwardly.
"One more round."
Tyler smiled knowingly.
The two stepped back into their stances once again, and around them the evening training continued as usual, with nobody noticing Tyler's smile slowly fading.
Behind the jokes, behind the laughter, and behind the ordinary conversation, his thoughts quietly drifted toward the future once more.
Elijah thought he was learning martial arts for fun, and everyone else believed the same, but only Tyler knew the real reason. Political power didn't exist only inside meeting rooms; when governments became unstable, when corruption reached its peak, and when people fought over influence, the first ones targeted were always those unable to protect themselves.
He had seen it once already. Power attracted loyal followers and dangerous enemies.
Tyler raised his guard.
This wasn't preparation for a tournament, nor for medals, nor for glory, it was preparation for the day when those future political hooligans came looking for him, and when that day arrived, he intended to be ready.
The training continued for another half hour.
After Tyler and Elijah finished sparring, Instructor Kenta called everyone back toward the center of the hall. The students gathered around him, breathing heavily as they adjusted their uniforms and wiped sweat from their faces.
"Everyone, we're going to learn one new technique before we finish."
A few tired groans rose from the group.
Instructor Kenta ignored them.
He demonstrated a defensive transition that began by redirecting an incoming strike and ended with the opponent's balance under control. It wasn't flashy. There was no dramatic movement or powerful strike. The technique depended almost entirely on timing, footwork, and knowing exactly where to put your weight.
"Watch carefully," he said. "Speed means nothing if your position is wrong."
He demonstrated it again, this time more slowly.
"Now copy it."
Everyone spread out across the training floor.
Tyler practiced the sequence carefully, paying attention to each movement. Elijah, meanwhile, nearly lost his balance on his first attempt.
"Again," Instructor Kenta ordered.
They repeated it.
Again.
And again.
The first few attempts were messy. Some students moved too quickly. Others shifted their weight too early. A couple nearly collided with their partners.
Gradually, the movements began to smooth out.
Tyler adjusted his stance.
Elijah corrected his foot placement.
Instructor Kenta moved between the groups, stopping whenever someone made a mistake.
"Lower your center."
"Don't cross your feet."
"Use the movement."
"Again."
The room filled with the steady rhythm of footsteps, uniforms brushing against one another, and Instructor Kenta's occasional corrections.
Eventually, the technique began to feel natural enough that the students no longer had to think about every individual step.
Instructor Kenta looked around the room and finally nodded.
"That's it for today, kids. Good work."
A collective sigh of relief swept through the hall.
Students immediately began stretching, collecting their belongings, and heading toward the changing rooms. Some left almost as soon as they had finished packing, while others lingered to talk.
Tyler changed back into his regular clothes, slung his gym bag over one shoulder, and met Elijah near the entrance.
"Ready?"
Elijah nodded.
"Finally."
They stepped outside.
The evening air was cooler than the training hall, carrying the smell of food from nearby restaurants and the faint exhaust of passing cars. Streetlights had begun flickering on along the road as the last traces of sunlight disappeared behind the buildings.
Shops remained open. Families made their way home from work. The sidewalks were gradually filling with the usual evening crowd.
Tyler and Elijah followed their usual route.
For several minutes, neither said much.
Then Elijah suddenly spoke.
"You know what?"
Tyler glanced at him.
"What?"
"I still think Instructor Kenta likes me more."
Tyler laughed.
"He literally called you late."
"Only two minutes."
"Late is late."
"You sound like him."
"Maybe I've been corrupted."
Elijah groaned.
"Don't become another Instructor Kenta."
Tyler smiled.
"I'll try."
They continued down the street.
After a few more steps, Elijah looked at him.
"So."
"Hm?"
"Are you actually going to join fencing?"
Tyler looked amused.
"Maybe."
"You were serious?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Elijah stared at him for a moment before shaking his head.
"One day you're going to wake up and tell me you've started learning archery."
Tyler considered it.
"That's not a bad idea."
Elijah stopped walking.
"I was joking."
Tyler laughed and continued ahead.
"Relax."
"You don't have to follow me."
"That's exactly what you say before dragging me somewhere."
"You'll survive."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
Their conversation continued as they made their way through the neighborhood.
They passed the same shops they always passed. The same narrow roads. The same houses.
Then they reached the playground.
Tyler's eyes drifted toward it out of habit.
He stopped.
Elijah took another few steps before realizing Tyler was no longer beside him.
"What?"
Tyler didn't answer.
He was staring toward the far edge of the playground.
A boy was sitting alone there.
He looked around their age.
His clothes were wrinkled and covered in dirt. One sleeve was torn near the elbow. Bruises marked his face and arms.
He sat with his head lowered, his forearms resting loosely against his knees.
There were no parents nearby.
No friends.
Nobody at all.
Tyler frowned.
Something was wrong.
He started toward the boy.
Elijah followed.
When they were close enough, Tyler spoke.
"Hey."
The boy didn't respond.
Tyler looked at him more carefully.
"What happened to you?"
Nothing.
The boy continued staring at the ground.
Elijah frowned and stepped closer.
"Hey."
Still nothing.
"We're talking to you."
The boy finally lifted his head.
Tyler expected fear.
Maybe anger.
Instead, there was almost nothing in his expression.
His eyes were dull with exhaustion. His face was strangely still, as though reacting to them required more effort than he could spare.
Tyler studied him.
The injuries were obvious, but they weren't what bothered him most.
It was the boy's silence.
Most kids in his situation would have reacted somehow. They would have cried, shouted, complained, or demanded help.
This boy didn't seem interested in any of those things.
He looked like he wanted the entire world to leave him alone.
Tyler crouched slightly.
"Did someone hurt you?"
The boy's expression tightened.
Elijah's patience ran out.
"Will you answer him?"
The boy suddenly snapped his head up.
"Just get the hell out of here!"
His voice echoed across the mostly empty playground.
Elijah frowned.
"Hey, we're just trying to help."
The boy looked away.
His voice dropped.
"Just..."
He swallowed.
"...just leave me alone."
Elijah looked at Tyler.
Tyler said nothing.
Something about this bothered him.
Not just the bruises.
Not just the strange reaction.
Something else.
He searched his memory.
Primary school.
He pictured the routes he used to take home. The faces of classmates. The classrooms. The small routines that had once filled his days.
Nothing.
He pushed further.
Middle school.
Hallways. Classrooms. After-school walks. Familiar faces.
Still nothing.
He mentally traced the neighborhood, remembering the roads and buildings he had passed countless times.
The playground should have been part of those memories.
It was.
But there was no memory of this.
No injured boy.
No strange encounter.
Nothing.
His thoughts went further back.
His previous life.
Tyler hesitated.
He didn't like digging into those memories. They were already distant and fragmented enough without forcing them to the surface.
Still, he searched.
A playground.
An injured child.
A moment like this.
Anything.
Nothing came.
No memory.
No image.
Not even the faintest sense of recognition.
And yet something about the boy felt familiar.
Not familiar in the way a classmate should feel familiar.
It was something deeper.
Something Tyler couldn't place.
Elijah shifted impatiently beside him.
"Fine."
He turned toward the boy.
"But you should go home. Look at you."
He gestured toward the boy's dirt-covered clothes.
"You're a complete mess."
Tyler lightly touched Elijah's arm.
"Leave it."
Elijah glanced at him.
"But..."
"Just leave it."
Tyler's voice remained calm.
Elijah sighed.
"Fine."
They turned and started walking away.
Tyler took several steps.
Then he looked back.
The boy was still sitting in exactly the same place.
Still alone.
Still silent.
For a moment, their eyes met.
Something twisted in Tyler's stomach.
He didn't know why.
He didn't know what he was supposed to recognize.
He only knew that walking away felt wrong.
Tyler turned back toward the road.
He caught up with Elijah.
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Finally, Elijah broke the silence.
"That was weird."
Tyler nodded.
"Yeah."
"What do you think happened?"
Tyler kept his eyes ahead.
"I don't know."
He walked a few more steps.
Then he said,
"And you know what's strange?"
Elijah frowned.
"What?"
Tyler glanced back toward the playground.
"That boy is in my class."
Elijah stopped.
"What?"
"Yeah."
Tyler looked toward the road again.
"His name is Oliver Hayes. He's a gloomy, awkward kid."
Elijah stared at him.
"You've never mentioned him."
"I don't really talk to him."
"I see."
Elijah adjusted the strap of his bag.
"Well, that's your class problem."
Tyler nodded.
"Yeah."
He kept walking.