shattered life, REBORN

The Beast's Training

The air in the basement was thick with the scent of sweat and metal. The rhythmic thud thud thud of fists colliding with the heavy bag echoed off the concrete walls. Hiroki, his arms wrapped in tape, his body weighed down by the training gear Peter had forced on him, delivered relentless punches, each blow sending a shockwave through the reinforced bag.

His knuckles burned, muscles screamed, but he didn't stop. Not yet. Not until Peter said so.

"Alright, that's enough for now," Peter's voice cut through the basement like a command from a general.

Hiroki let out a sharp exhale, stepping back, rolling his shoulders. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he pulled off the weighted vest with a heavy clank against the floor. He looked up at Peter, who was already adjusting the bench press, loading it with more weight than any sane man would consider lifting.

"Short break," Peter continued, cracking his neck. "Then we pump some iron."

Hiroki wiped the sweat off his brow. His heartbeat was still pounding from the bag work, but he knew better than to argue. He followed Peter to the weights, watching as the man loaded plates like he was stacking coins. The sheer weight should've been impossible for any human.

Now Hiroki could see his whole body. It seemed like he had been through war for several years. His body bore countless scars—some thin, some thick—yet instead of looking weak, they made him even more fearsome. His intense, battle-hardened muscles, veins bulging, radiated an aura of raw power and mystery. But what stood out the most were his brown eyes—calm yet intense, as if hiding countless stories of hardship beneath them.

Hiroki sat on the bench first, pressing a manageable weight—at least, for his level. He felt every rep in his chest and arms, but nothing compared to what came next.

Peter, in contrast, barely acknowledged the gravity of what he was lifting. The plates rattled as he grabbed the pull-up bar, his body weighted down with six plates of 55 pounds (25kg) each attached to him by chains. Without so much as a grunt, he pulled himself up, his muscles flexing under the dim lighting. One. Two. Three. Smooth, controlled movements, as if he wasn't carrying enough weight to crush a man.

By the time he hit twenty reps, Hiroki was frozen in place, watching in disbelief. His own arms burned from mere bench presses, and here Peter was, lifting way more than a professional bodybuilder could even attempt.

The moment Peter dropped down, the chains rattling as he unstrapped the plates, Hiroki swallowed hard. "...You okay?"

Peter, barely out of breath, rolled his shoulders, flashing a casual grin.

"I just warmed up."

That was the moment Hiroki truly understood.

Peter wasn't human.

He was a monster.

Peter cracked his knuckles and gestured toward the heavy bag. "Now, I'm going to teach you something important. Fighting isn't just about raw strength; it's about precision, timing, and technique. Pay close attention."

He stepped in front of the bag, taking a stance that Hiroki had never seen before—heels grounded, knees slightly bent. Then, without warning, Peter stomped the floor, turning his hips in a split second before launching his fist forward. BOOM! The impact sounded like a shotgun blast, and the bag swung violently on its chains.

Hiroki flinched. That was different—way different.

"You feel that?" Peter asked, shaking his fist as if he barely felt a thing. "That's a real punch. The power comes from the ground, not just your arms. You stomp first, twist your hips, and let the force flow through you. That's how you make your punches hit like a goddamn truck."

Hiroki nodded slowly, absorbing every word.

Peter continued, raising both fists. "Now, about your hands... Think of them as two weapons. The lead hand? That's your autofire weapon, like an M4. You use it to probe, to throw quick jabs, to keep your opponent in check. Even if you miss, you're still controlling the fight. But the rear hand, the one you use as a guard near your face..." He smirked. "That's your sniper rifle. The one-shot kill. If you miss with this, you might be done for. But if you land it... game over."

Hiroki's heart pounded as Peter threw a rapid series of quick jabs—lightning-fast autofire—before suddenly shifting his stance and delivering a devastating right cross. The bag lurched back as if it had been struck by a wrecking ball.

"The key," Peter said, rolling his shoulder, "is the combination. A few rapid-fire shots to distract, then—when they least expect it—boom! The sniper shot."

Hiroki clenched his fists. He could see it. He could feel it. His training wasn't just about getting stronger. It was about becoming a predator in the ring—a warrior who knew exactly when to strike.

Peter patted the bag. "Now, your turn. Show me what you've learned."

Hiroki stepped up. His mind replayed everything Peter had said. He exhaled, raised his fists, and began.

A series of sharp jabs—his autofire. Thap! Thap! Thap! Each one was faster than before, keeping up the rhythm Peter had demonstrated. He felt the power in them, but it wasn't enough. He needed more.

Then, he stomped, twisted his hips, and unleashed his full force.

BOOM!

The punch slammed into the bag with a deafening impact, making the heavy chains creak as the bag swung violently. The sound echoed through the basement, lingering in the air. Hiroki stared at his own fist, his breath uneven.

He had never felt power like this before.

Peter watched with a satisfied smirk, his brown eyes gleaming in the dim light. "You're far more dangerous than a machine gun." He muttered under his breath, but Hiroki caught it.

A grin tugged at his lips.

This was just the beginning.

The Second Day – A New Reputation

The moment Hikaru Morisawa stepped into the school, he felt the weight of a hundred gazes locking onto him. Whispers spread like wildfire through the hallways, students parting as he walked past.

"That's him..."

"The guy who took down Kokojin."

"He's the reason we're free now."

Some students looked at him with admiration, others with curiosity, but no one dared to challenge him. The aura he carried—calm, yet sharp like a honed blade—was enough to keep them at a distance.

But as Hikaru continued walking, something caught his eye. A group of three punks had cornered a freshman near the lockers. The boy looked terrified, gripping his bag tightly as one of the punks shoved him against the wall.

Hikaru exhaled through his nose.

"Again, huh...?"

His body moved before his mind could process.

With slow, deliberate steps, he approached the group. The punks were too caught up in their little game to notice him—until the moment his hand clamped onto the ringleader's shoulder like an iron vice.

The punk flinched, spinning around. His sneer disappeared the instant his eyes met Hikaru's.

"You..." His voice cracked.

Hikaru's cold, unreadable stare bore into him, his grip tightening just enough to make the message clear. "Let him go."

The punk hesitated for a second, then immediately backed off, raising his hands in surrender. His lackeys followed suit, dragging their feet as they disappeared into the crowd. The freshman, still shaken, adjusted his bag and looked up at Hikaru.

"T-Thank you..."

But before he could walk away, Hikaru suddenly flicked his forehead with enough force to make the boy stumble back a little.

The freshman winced, rubbing his head. "W-What was that for?"

Hikaru crossed his arms, his tone calm but firm.

"Next time, don't wait for someone to save you." His eyes locked onto the boy's, serious yet not unkind. "You're weak. That's why they picked you. And as long as you stay weak, it'll happen again."

The boy's lips parted slightly, unsure how to respond.

Hikaru took a step closer, his presence overwhelming yet strangely empowering. "So what's it gonna be? Stay weak and let the world step on you, or build yourself up so no one dares to touch you?"

The freshman swallowed hard, but something changed in his eyes. The fear faded—replaced by something else. A spark.

Hikaru nodded. "Good. Now get stronger."

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving the boy standing there, fists clenched at his sides.

But as Hikaru walked through the halls, his mind drifted back to the conversation he had with Peter the night before.

Flashback – The Basement Training

The scent of sweat and metal still lingered in the air. Hikaru—still recovering from his last set of punches—sat on the bench, breathing hard. Peter, standing across from him, arms crossed, studied him with those sharp brown eyes.

"You've got strength now, Hikaru," Peter finally said, voice low and firm. "But strength means nothing if you don't know how to use it."

Hikaru looked up, wiping sweat from his forehead. "I already know how to fight."

Peter smirked. "Yeah, you do. But listen up—this is more than just fighting. It's about who you are when you walk these streets."

Hikaru frowned, waiting for Peter to continue.

Peter leaned against the wall, tilting his head slightly. "The world's full of punks—losers who get off on making others feel small. Some of them bully for fun. Others do it 'cause they feel empty inside. Either way, the weak always suffer." His gaze darkened. "That's why when you see a man getting harassed—whether it's a boy, a girl, or even a couple—you step in."

Hikaru nodded slowly. "And then?"

Peter's grin then faded slightly, replaced with something colder, heavier.

"for the boys..." Peter stepped forward, pointing a finger at Hikaru's chest. "You don't just save them. You make them remember that they were weak. You knock them on the head—not to hurt them, but just enough to wake them up."

Hikaru raised a brow. "And tell them what? 'Go cry and get stronger'?"

Peter chuckled. "Close, but not quite." He leaned in, voice dropping slightly, but filled with conviction.

"You tell them—'You better go train. Build yourself up. Become a man who doesn't need saving.'" His brown eyes gleamed with something fierce. "'Because the world doesn't care if you stay weak. It'll crush you anyway.'"

Hikaru felt those words sink into his bones.

Peter smirked. "And if they listen? If they get stronger? Then you just did more than save them. You changed them."

Hikaru clenched his fists. It made sense now.

This wasn't just about being strong.

It was about making others stronger, too.

Back to the Present – The Awakening

Hikaru walked through the halls, the weight of Peter's words still fresh in his mind.

Around him, students still whispered, still stared. But for the first time, he wasn't just "the guy who beat Kokojin."

He was something more.

And soon, the whole school would realize it.

The Kind Bully's Law

Hikaru's second day at school was already eventful, and it hadn't even hit noon. After dealing with the first incident, he continued walking through the halls, hands in his pockets, eyes sharp. He had no interest in being a hero—but if Peter's words meant anything, it was that the world didn't need heroes.

It needed stronger people.

And that's exactly what he planned to create.

As he turned a corner, another scene unfolded in front of him. A girl, backed against the lockers, her books scattered on the floor. Two punks towered over her, laughing as they kicked her things around.

Hikaru sighed. Again?

He didn't wait. His footsteps were heavy on purpose, making the two idiots freeze before he even spoke. Their laughter died instantly when they turned and saw him.

"You've got about three seconds to get lost," Hikaru said, his voice low, almost bored—but that only made it scarier.

The punks didn't need more convincing. They scrambled away like rats, leaving the girl staring wide-eyed at Hikaru.

She hesitated before whispering, "T-Thank you..."

Hikaru crouched down, picking up her books and handing them back to her. Unlike with the freshman boy earlier, he didn't flick her forehead. Girls were different.

Instead, he looked her straight in the eye, his voice firm yet calm.

"I'll be gentle, but honest."

The girl blinked, confused.

"Train yourself to at least protect yourself." He nodded toward her trembling hands. "And when you've got more time... train harder, so you might even save others."

Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Hikaru didn't push. He simply stood up, giving her a slight nod before walking off.

The Couple Incident

Hikaru had barely made it to the next hallway when he saw another problem.

This time, it wasn't a solo victim.

A couple—a boy and a girl—cornered by a group of three punks. The leader had his arm around the girl's shoulder, smirking at the helpless boyfriend.

Hikaru had zero patience left.

His fist smashed into the punk's stomach before the idiot even knew he was there. The guy collapsed instantly, gasping for air. His lackeys? They took one look at Hikaru and ran without hesitation.

The girl jumped back, shocked, while her boyfriend stood frozen in place.

Hikaru ignored both of them. He crouched down, grabbed the punk by his collar, and dragged him across the floor like trash before tossing him aside. Then, without a word, he turned back to the couple.

The girl looked relieved. The boyfriend... looked humiliated.

And Hikaru hated that look.

Without warning, he grabbed the guy by the shirt and slapped him.

Not hard. Just enough to wake him up.

The girl gasped. "H-Hey! What are you—"

Hikaru didn't even glance at her. His cold, piercing gaze was locked onto the boyfriend, his grip on his collar tightening.

His next words came out like ice.

"Get stronger... or your girl will be taken."

The guy's eyes widened with rage. "W-What?! You bastard, I won't let you—"

Hikaru released him with a small shove, his expression calm as ever. "Then be a man and train yourself." His voice softened just a little, but the intensity didn't fade. "But be faithful to her, okay?"

The guy clenched his fists, still shaking with emotion—but this time, it wasn't just anger. It was something deeper.

Determination.

Hikaru turned and walked away, the girl still looking between them in confusion.

Flashback again – The Basement Training (Peter's Philosophy)

The dim light in the basement flickered as Peter adjusted the heavy chains on his wrists. His brown eyes studied Hikaru carefully, as if making sure he was really listening.

"I don't need you to be a hero, Hikaru." His voice was firm, unshaken. "Heroes save people, but they don't change them."

Hikaru, still rubbing his sore knuckles from earlier training, frowned. "Then what do you want me to be?"

Peter smirked. "A bully."

Hikaru blinked. "...What?"

Peter leaned forward, crossing his arms. "Not the kind that beats the weak down. That's the coward's way. No—I want you to be the kind of bully that forces the weak to rise."

Hikaru stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

"When you see punks harassing someone, you step in. But don't just save people, Hikaru. Teach them."

"For girls, be gentle—but don't lie to them. Tell them the truth. Train, so they can at least protect themselves. And if they have more time, train harder—so they might even save others."

"And for couples..." Peter's smirk widened. "That's where it gets fun."

Hikaru raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

Peter chuckled. "After saving them, grab the boyfriend, slap him, and make sure he remembers why he felt weak. Then tell him, 'Get stronger, or your girl will be taken.'"

Hikaru stared. "...That sounds like you're trying to steal someone's girlfriend."

Peter waved him off. "Nah, you don't actually want her. You want him to want her more." His brown eyes gleamed. "You want to piss him off just enough that he refuses to let himself be weak anymore."

Hikaru exhaled, rubbing his temple. "This is the weirdest training philosophy I've ever heard."

Peter grinned. "Yeah? But I guarantee—it works."

Back to the Present again – A Growing Reputation

By the time Hikaru reached his classroom, the school was buzzing.

Rumors spread fast. Faster than he expected.

"He's not just beating up bullies—he's telling people to get stronger."

"Did you hear what he said to that one guy? 'Get stronger, or your girl will be taken'?!"

"Damn... kinda savage, but... is he wrong?"

Hikaru sat down, ignoring the chatter. He didn't care what people thought.

All that mattered was whether or not they listened.

And soon, he would see who had the will to change.

The Making of a Legend

Two weeks had passed.

Two weeks since Hikaru Morisawa walked into this school and turned it upside down.

The once-silent, weak-willed boys had changed. At first, they had simply watched Hikaru's fights from a distance—awed, fearful, and unsure if they could ever stand like him. But as days passed, they realized something:

He wasn't just fighting. He was pushing them to fight for themselves.

Now, the school gym was full every morning. Groups of boys, once skinny and hesitant, were training together, doing push-ups, sit-ups, sparring with one another, lifting what little weights they could find. Their eyes burned with newfound determination.

Hikaru didn't need to say much. They followed him without question.

He had become their guardian angel.

And for the bullies?

He had become their worst nightmare.

The Fear of the Bullies

Before Hikaru arrived, bullies roamed freely. They picked on the weak, took their money, and harassed girls with no fear of consequences.

Now?

They barely dared to step foot in the hallways.

Every time a bully tried to stir trouble, Hikaru was there before they could blink. A single glare from him was enough to make them rethink their choices. If they were stupid enough to continue—well, they learned the hard way.

Some ended up with bruises. Some ended up knocked out.

And all of them ended up too scared to try again.

Reina Takamura – The Ice Queen of Discipline

Of course, when one of their own got beaten up, the bullies' parents came rushing to the school, demanding answers.

They stormed into the principal's office, expecting apologies, expecting special treatment.

Instead, they met Reina Takamura.

The woman didn't even blink as she listened to their complaints.

"Your son was assaulted!"

"That transfer student is a menace!"

"He's turning this school into a battleground!"

Reina simply leaned back in her chair, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against her desk. Her cold brown eyes stared right through them.

Then she spoke.

"Your son won't stop causing trouble. By the school rules, he will be suspended for two months."

Silence.

The parents blinked, completely thrown off.

"W-What? That's not—"

"Rather than complain to me, why don't you fix him?" Her voice was calm, sharp as ice. "Because if he doesn't change, I'll make sure that two-month suspension becomes permanent."

The parents froze.

They weren't used to this. They expected excuses, negotiations—not this merciless response.

One father clenched his fists. "This is unfair! You're protecting that delinquent transfer student!"

Reina smiled. A slow, chilling smile that made the entire room feel colder.

"Unfair?" she echoed. "Unfair... would be letting your sons continue running wild and making this school a hellhole."

She stood up. The air in the office grew heavier.

"If your child comes back and causes trouble again, I won't just suspend him." Her voice dropped lower. "I'll make sure he never sets foot in this school again."

The parents exchanged nervous glances.

One mother, trying to keep her composure, scoffed. "You can't expect us to just accept this."

Reina tilted her head. "Then don't."

She leaned forward slightly, her gaze unwavering. "But whether you accept it or not... won't change a thing."

Silence filled the room.

The parents had no response.

With stiff movements, they stormed out, unable to do anything.

And Reina? She simply sighed and returned to her paperwork, unfazed.

The New Normal

As days passed, Hikaru's reputation grew stronger.

Fewer fights broke out. The weak became stronger. The gym stayed packed, and even students who had nothing to do with Hikaru before started training.

And those who used to be the predators?

They had been reduced to prey.

Because in this school, there was only one rule now.

Be stronger... or get left behind.

Hikaru vs. Kokojin – The First Rematch

The school hallways were packed with students as the commotion spread like wildfire. Whispers, gasps, and excitement filled the air as everyone turned their attention to one spot.

At the center of it all stood Kokojin.

His face was twisted in pure rage, his muscles tense, his fists clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white. The humiliation of his last defeat still burned in his mind. He couldn't—wouldn't—let it slide.

And across from him, standing calm and indifferent, was Hikaru Morisawa.

The students held their breath as Kokojin took a step forward, his deep voice booming through the hallway.

"Hey, you little shit! I came here for my revenge!"

The tension in the air skyrocketed.

But Hikaru?

He didn't even flinch.

Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his cold black eyes locking onto Kokojin with a look that screamed boredom.

Then, with a slow, mocking smirk, he responded.

"Dude, the last time wasn't enough to break your pride?" Hikaru sighed, shaking his head. "And now, you wanna embarrass yourself again?"

The hallway exploded with gasps.

"Damn, he really said that!"

"Bro is asking to get killed!"

"Kokojin's gonna lose it!"

And he did.

Kokojin's veins bulged, his teeth clenched so hard they might crack.

"YOU SON OF A B!TCH!!!!"

Without another word, he lunged.

The fight had begun.

The Clash

Kokojin charged forward like a rampaging beast, his massive frame cutting through the air as he swung his fist straight at Hikaru's face.

The crowd screamed in anticipation.

"Shit! That's gonna break his skull!"

But—

Hikaru wasn't there.

At the very last second, he shifted—just barely.

Kokojin's punch whiffed through empty air.

And before anyone could even process what happened—

BAM!

Hikaru's knee drove straight into Kokojin's stomach.

Deep. Brutal. Precise.

A shockwave of pain exploded in Kokojin's gut as his entire body froze.

His eyes widened.

His breath caught in his throat.

And then—

With a single exhale, he collapsed onto the ground.

The hallway fell silent.

No one moved.

No one spoke.

All they could do was stare as the towering Kokojin lay on the floor, his body twitching, his arms clutching his stomach as he struggled to even breathe.

And Hikaru?

He simply adjusted his hoodie and kept walking forward, stepping over Kokojin's fallen body like it was nothing.

He never even looked back.

The students?

They erupted.

"HOLY SHIT!!"

"HE ONE-SHOTTED HIM! AGAIN!"

"BRO, KOKOJIN DIDN'T EVEN LAND A SINGLE HIT!!"

In just one move, Hikaru had ended the fight.

And in doing so, he sent a message.

There was no more place for bullies in this school.

And anyone who thought otherwise?

Would end up just like Kokojin.

The Aftermath of Defeat

The school day had ended, but the rumors hadn't.

Every hallway, every corner, every classroom—all buzzing about the fight.

Hikaru Morisawa had destroyed Kokojin. Again.

And now, as Hikaru stepped out of the school gates, all eyes were still glued to him.

But this time, they weren't watching him because of the fight.

No.

They were watching because of the car waiting for him.

A Porsche.

Not just any Porsche—a sleek, glassy black beauty that looked like it came straight out of a high-end racing movie.

Hikaru's jaw dropped.

"GOD DAMN!!!!" His voice practically echoed through the entrance.

Students turned their heads. Some gasped. Others whispered among themselves.

But Hikaru?

He was too busy admiring the car.

"This one is so badass and cool! I love this color—glassy black—it suits so good!" His hands instinctively ran across the smooth hood, feeling the cold steel beneath his fingertips.

Standing next to the car, leaning against it with his arms crossed, was Peter.

His brown eyes glinted with amusement as he smirked at Hikaru's excitement.

"You know how to drive?" Peter asked casually.

Hikaru's excitement faltered for a second.

"Unfortunately, no..." he admitted.

Peter chuckled, shaking his head. "I'll teach you later, boy. But for now, get in. You need some rest before training. School's kinda boring sometimes, isn't it?"

Hikaru grinned. "Yeah, let's go."

As the car doors opened and Hikaru got in, the students who were still outside couldn't stop staring.

The Girls' Reactions

"Did you see that?!" One girl whispered to her friend, her eyes practically sparkling.

"Yeah... that car! Oh my god, it's crazy expensive!"

"Not just the car! His father is rich... and somehow really handsome."

Another girl nodded in agreement.

"And look at Hikaru. His dad must've trained him so well—he's strong, cool, and totally fearless... like father, like son."

Their conversation didn't go unnoticed.

Several other girls, standing nearby, exchanged glances.

Their expressions?

Interest. Curiosity. Maybe something more.

After all—Hikaru wasn't just mysterious and strong.

He had status. A presence. A lifestyle that stood out.

And that?

Was dangerous.

And irresistible.

Kokojin's Fury

But not everyone was impressed.

Standing at a distance, his fists clenched so hard his nails dug into his palms, was Kokojin.

His face was twisted in pure fury.

Twice.

He lost to that bastard TWICE.

And now?

He had to watch as Hikaru drove away in luxury, surrounded by admiration, while he was left in the dust.

Unforgivable.

His teeth gritted. His breath was ragged.

"You'll pay for that..."

The words left his mouth like venom.

And in that moment—he swore he wouldn't lose again.

Not next time.

Next time... he'd make Hikaru suffer.

Lunchtime Battle – The Fall of Kokojin

(recommending song: TAKE OVER by Jeremy Mckinnon & Max & Henry)

The schoolyard hummed with life—students laughing, chatting, enjoying their lunch under the clear sky.

Hikaru Morisawa sat on a bench near the center, eating the meal prepared by Mr. Rasel—a perfectly balanced dish full of protein and essential nutrients.

Each bite was calculated, fueling his body like a machine built for battle.

But just as he was about to take another bite—

Something shifted.

The atmosphere.

The energy.

Like an approaching storm.

The Charge

Hikaru's sharp senses picked up on the heavy footsteps.

Before he even looked up, he already knew—

Kokojin.

The brute had locked onto him, his anger boiling over from yesterday's humiliating defeat.

"YOU LITTLE SHIT—!!!"

Kokojin's roar shattered the lunchtime peace.

Like a raging beast, he dashed forward, muscles tensed, fists clenched, eyes burning with fury.

Students gasped—snacks were dropped, drinks spilled, conversations died.

This wasn't just a fight.

This was a spectacle.

The First Throw – Sumi Gaeshi

Hikaru calmly stood up.

Not in panic.

Not in fear.

Just calm, controlled precision.

Kokojin lunged—his massive arms spread wide, aiming to crush Hikaru in a devastating bear hug.

"I'LL END YOU!!!"

The gap between them closed in an instant.

Kokojin's arms wrapped around Hikaru's torso, his grip as tight as steel.

He lifted Hikaru, intent on slamming him back-first into the concrete wall.

Students gasped—some even turned away, expecting bones to break.

But then—

Hikaru moved.

With a sharp exhale, he dropped his weight, bending his knees at the perfect moment.

Kokojin's momentum—his own brute force—became his undoing.

Hikaru gripped Kokojin's collar and belt, twisting his body as he fell backward.

"Sumi Gaeshi."

His voice was calm—cold.

In a split second—

Kokojin was airborne.

The world seemed to slow as his massive frame flipped over Hikaru's body.

CRASH!!

The ground shook as Kokojin's back slammed into the concrete.

A thunderous impact.

Students were frozen.

Even the teachers, watching from the sidelines, couldn't believe their eyes.

Kokojin—**the school's most feared brute—**had just been thrown like a ragdoll.

The Follow-Up – The Final Slam

But Kokojin wasn't done.

Despite the shock, he wasn't out yet.

With sheer willpower, he forced himself to stand.

His body ached.

His pride burned.

With a snarl, he launched himself forward again—this time from behind.

A sneak attack.

Fist cocked back, aiming for Hikaru's head.

Students screamed.

But Hikaru was ready.

In a blink, he ducked.

Kokojin's punch swung through empty air.

And in the same breath—

Hikaru struck.

He grabbed Kokojin's waist belt and collar in a perfect grip.

Then, in a smooth, controlled motion—

HE LIFTED.

Using Kokojin's own momentum, Hikaru turned his body and hurled him sideways.

CRACK!

Kokojin's body smashed into the nearby wall.

His back slammed against the brick.

His head drooped.

His legs wobbled.

And then—

He collapsed.

Silence.

Aftermath – The Guardian of the Schoolyard

No one spoke.

No one moved.

Every single student just stared.

Kokojin—the biggest, strongest bully in the school—had been destroyed.

thrice.

In front of hundreds of students.

Hikaru exhaled slowly.

Without even sparing Kokojin a second glance, he simply—walked back to his seat.

And picked up his chopsticks.

And continued eating.

As if nothing happened.

The students?

They lost it.

Murmurs turned into whispers.

Whispers into gasps.

Gasps into shouts of admiration.

"Holy shit, did you see that?!"

"That was Judo!"

"He made Kokojin look like a child!"

"Hikaru Morisawa... he's the strongest in this school now."

And as for Kokojin...

Lying there, dazed, humiliated, his vision blurred—

Only one thought filled his mind.

"I... I'll make you pay for this..."

But deep down, even he knew.

Hikaru Morisawa was beyond him.

He had lost.

thrice.

Kokojin's Last Stand

A month had passed since Hikaru Morisawa—formerly Hiroki—set foot in his old school under a new name.

In that short time, he had become a legend.

The weak boys he once saw as victims were now training hard, inspired by his words and discipline. The bullies who had once ruled the schoolyard now feared stepping out of line. And throughout it all, Peter had been there—helping Hikaru not just in combat, but also in academics.

It turned out Peter was a genius.

Mathematics, history, science—he knew everything.

Hikaru had always respected Peter, but seeing him excel in every subject was something else.

"What are you exactly?" Hikaru had asked once, half-joking.

Peter just smirked. "A man who had to learn a lot of things the hard way."

Hikaru had no idea what that meant, but he knew one thing—he had a damn good teacher.

The Setup

It was another day, another lecture. Hikaru sat through class, absorbing the lesson, his mind sharp as ever.

Everything was normal.

Until the bell rang.

As he stepped out of the classroom, heading toward the courtyard—he felt it.

A presence. No... multiple.

He slowed his steps.

Then he saw them.

Kokōjin.

And he wasn't alone.

Behind him stood five other students—the same ones Hikaru had humiliated, broken, and disciplined.

Now, they stood shoulder to shoulder with Kokōjin, their faces twisted with malice.

Kokōjin cracked his knuckles, grinning.

"That's him, boys."

His voice was deep, brimming with arrogance.

"Let's finish him. Once and for all."

The Reckoning – Hikaru vs. Kokojin's Crew

The air was thick with tension.

Students gathered like moths to a flame, drawn by the sight of Kokojin and his crew blocking Hikaru's path.

Six against one.

A fight long overdue.

Kokojin's lips curled into a sneer, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"You think you're untouchable, huh?!" His voice was laced with venom. "I don't care how good you are, you can't take all of us!"

His lackeys—former bullies turned sore losers—chuckled darkly, their eyes gleaming with revenge.

Hikaru, standing tall, his face unreadable, exhaled slowly.

His black hoodie shifted slightly in the breeze, his cold, piercing eyes scanning his surroundings.

He knew this was coming.

And he was ready.

First Strike – Breaking the Formation

Kokojin snarled. "Get him!"

The first two goons charged.

One came from the left, swinging a wild haymaker. The other lunged low, trying to grab Hikaru's legs.

Amateurs.

Hikaru moved.

His body flowed like water.

He dodged left, feeling the air shift as the fist barely grazed his shoulder. The moment it missed, Hikaru's counterattack was already in motion—a brutal knee to the ribs.

CRACK!

The first thug's eyes went wide—his body folded, and he collapsed, wheezing.

The second one, still coming low, reached for Hikaru's legs.

Hikaru reacted instantly—twisting his torso mid-air, stomping down on the attacker's wrist.

"AGH—!!"

The boy screamed, his arm bending at a painful angle as Hikaru launched himself backward, flipping over his crouched body.

The moment Hikaru's feet touched the ground, he spun and kicked the boy square in the face.

THUD!

The second attacker crashed onto his back, unconscious.

The Three-on-One – Unleashing Precision

The next three came together.

They learned.

No reckless charges. They surrounded him.

One was tall and lanky, holding a steel pipe.

The second was muscular, bouncing on his feet like a boxer.

The third? The wild card. A street fighter, unpredictable.

Hikaru cracked his neck. "Alright then."

The tall one swung the pipe—fast.

Hikaru ducked, the pipe whistling past his head.

Before the attacker could recover, Hikaru stepped into his space, grabbed his wrist, and twisted.

"GAAAH—!"

The pipe dropped. Hikaru caught it mid-air.

WHACK!

A single, calculated strike to the stomach. The lanky fighter crumbled.

The boxer launched a rapid jab.

Hikaru parried—once, twice—before slipping past the final punch.

A fist shot forward—but Hikaru wasn't there.

He was already at the boxer's side.

A sharp elbow.

To the liver.

The boxer froze.

Pain exploded through his body.

His legs trembled. His arms dropped.

And Hikaru, with the calm of a storm before it breaks, finished it.

A palm strike. Straight to the jaw.

POP.

The boxer's head snapped back—his lights went out.

The street fighter, now alone, panicked.

He swung blindly.

A mistake.

Hikaru caught his wrist, twisting him into an armlock.

The street fighter screamed.

Then—a foot sweep.

He crashed onto the pavement, and Hikaru didn't hesitate—he stomped on his chest, pinning him down.

"Stay down."

The street fighter whimpered. He didn't move.

Final Round – Kokojin's Rage

And then—

Kokojin.

The only one left standing.

Fury burned in his eyes.

His pride? Gone.

His crew? Defeated.

All that was left... was him.

Hikaru met his gaze, unfazed. "Your move."

Kokojin roared—"I'LL KILL YOU!"

He charged.

Hikaru didn't move.

Kokojin threw a monstrous right hook—all his rage, all his strength—aimed at Hikaru's head.

And yet— He missed.

Hikaru had already side-stepped. He didn't waste time. A knee to the gut.

Kokojin gasped, but he pushed through, swinging again. Hikaru dodged.

Another swing—a feint!

Kokojin's real attack came low—a grab, aiming to lift Hikaru and slam him down.

But Hikaru saw through it.

The moment Kokojin's arms touched him—

It was over.

Hikaru gripped his collar and belt.

A perfect Judo grip.

"Seoi Nage."

The shoulder throw.

Hikaru twisted—Kokojin's feet left the ground.

And then—

BOOM!

Kokojin's massive frame slammed into the pavement.

Dust flew.

Silence.

He didn't get back up.

The Aftermath – The Rise of Hikaru Morisawa

The entire schoolyard was silent.

No one dared to speak.

Then, whispers.

Then, gasps.

Then, cheers.

"He took them all on..."

"That was unreal!"

"Who the hell even IS Hikaru Morisawa?!"

Even teachers watching from the windows didn't interfere.

They knew.

This wasn't just a fight.

This was a statement.

And as for Hikaru—

He adjusted his hoodie, exhaled, and walked away.

Just like that.

Another day. Another fight.

Another legend born.

The Return of Kokojin – A Father's Wrath

A week had passed since Hiroki Moriyama—formerly Hiroki Mori—utterly humiliated Kokojin. Yet, hatred doesn't fade so easily. Today, Kokojin wasn't alone. He had gathered a gang—thirteen in total. Eight new recruits, fresh from the underground fights or local gangs. Five familiar faces, the ones Hiroki had already crushed before. But now, they weren't laughing. They weren't confident. They were desperate.

The school hallway was packed with students, whispering, watching. It was lunchtime, and everyone knew something was about to happen. Hiroki stepped out of class, his gaze cold and calculating as he noticed Kokojin standing in the middle of the hall, his goons flanking him like a pack of hungry wolves.

Kokojin sneered. His lips curled into a grin filled with hate and vengeance. "That's him, boys… let's finish him once and for all!"

The students around them gasped. Some backed away. Others pulled out their phones, ready to capture what was sure to be a bloodbath. Kokojin cracked his knuckles, the sound loud in the hushed hallway. He was out for revenge. But before he could step forward—

A hand landed on his shoulder.

Cold. Heavy. Like a vice locking him in place.

Kokojin froze.

A chill ran down his spine. Slowly, he turned his head, his breath catching in his throat—

And there he was.

Peter.

His usual calm, confident demeanor remained, but something was off. His smile—it was dark. Twisted. Unsettling. The kind of smile that sent a deep, primal fear through a man's bones. The kind of smile that predators wear when they know they've already won.

"Trying to hit my son?" Peter's voice was smooth, casual—but there was an edge, something sinister lurking beneath. The hallway felt colder, the walls seeming to close in. Even the delinquents who stood behind Kokojin stepped back.

Kokojin snarled, shaking off the fear gripping his chest. "Tch, first I'll take you down, old man—!!!"

With a roar, he swung his massive fist, aiming to crush Peter's face with everything he had. But—it never landed.

Peter caught it.

One hand. Effortless. No movement. No struggle. Just a simple stop, as if he had grabbed a child's wrist. The impact should've broken bones—but Peter didn't even budge. The hallway fell into stunned silence. Kokojin's eyes widened in shock, his hand trembling in Peter's iron grip.

Peter tightened his hold. The pressure made Kokojin's knees buckle slightly. Then, Peter leaned in just a little, his voice barely a whisper, but every word sent a dagger through Kokojin's chest.

"Strong," Peter mused. Then, his expression darkened. "But mindless. You're beyond cooked, bitch."

Before Kokojin could react—

BAM!

A single uppercut.

One devastating strike to the chin.

Kokojin's feet left the ground. Time seemed to freeze. He was airborne for a brief, humiliating moment before crashing to the floor with an impact so loud it echoed through the hallway.

Gasps erupted. Some students staggered back. Others clamped their hands over their mouths, unable to believe what they just witnessed. Kokojin—the school's biggest, baddest bully—had just been floored with one punch.

The bullies panicked. Some turned to run—but they ran straight into Hiroki.

His gaze, sharp as a blade, locked onto them.

They barely had time to register their mistake before—

WHAM!

Hiroki struck. Fast. Precise. Ruthless.

First kick to the gut—one of the thugs bent forward, gagging.Second kick—a spinning strike to the jaw, another thug went flying.Final kick—an axe kick, straight down onto the skull.

Three men.

Three kicks.

Three knockouts.

The remaining five bullies?

They collapsed to their knees.

Begging. Trembling. Their voices cracked with panic.

"W-we're sorry…"

"We won't mess with you again…!"

"Please, just let us go!"

Hiroki exhaled slowly, his cold eyes piercing through them. He didn't even need to say anything. The message was clear. They had lost. Again.

Hiroki turned to Peter. Their eyes met, and for the first time in a long while, Hiroki felt something unexpected—pride. Not in himself, but in the man standing beside him. The one who had guided him, trained him, and now, stood by him as an unshakable force.

A small smirk played on Hiroki's lips as he stepped closer. Then, with a voice steady and calm, he spoke.

"Father… let's go."

Peter let out a low chuckle, dusting off his sleeves. "Damn right, son."

And just like that—

The iron duo walked away.

Leaving behind only silence, unconscious bodies, and shattered pride.

.

.

.

a few meter away, a girl with face full of anger, biting her nail for what she saw, everytime he lose to that guy, that person who introduced himself as "hiroki's old friend" but she had other in her mind, she slowly walk away and ignore it all, now she have other plan that she already have in her mind... 

Nao, the cheater, the one who turn hiroki that way, have something else that even the evil won't even think about it

'oh poor hiroki, too bad you're dead, well, couldn't be careless then that, but too bad you died not knowing your family and your best friend will become a complete toy, fufufu' Nao thoughts to herself

To Be Continue...