"Kazuki, you're not joking… right?" Koyo asked, his voice caught between doubt.
Kazuki smirked. "No I'm not. You're in, but only for this mission, temporarily. You are part of the team now."
Koyo's eyes widened, his chest tightening with fire. He clenched his fists and shouted, "I won't waste this chance! I'll save her, no matter what!"
"Good," Kazuki said, pushing off the wall. "But before you start celebrating, we've got one little thing to do—paperwork."
Koyo groaned. "Paperwork?"
"Yeah, Missions aren't child's play. Everything's got to be filed and official," Kazuki said, half-grinning as he walked ahead.
It took almost half an hour for the paperwork to be completed. Afterward, Kazuki led Koyo into a massive underground room. The space was wide and open, lit by bright overhead lights, with training equipment neatly arranged along the walls.
There, Kazuki introduced him to a man waiting at the centre--- Mr. Takeda, the martial arts instructor who had been with the organization for the past five years. He didn't look much older than Kazuki or Koyo, his posture calm yet radiating strength.
Mr. Takeda glanced at Kazuki, a faint smile.
"Well, look who it is. You don't call me here unless something big's going on. So, what's the deal this time?"
Kazuki stepped aside, gesturing toward Koyo.
"This is Koyo. He's going to be training under you. From today, he's your responsibility."
Mr. Takeda raised an eyebrow, giving Koyo a quick once-over.
"Him, huh? Doesn't exactly look like soldier material," he said, his tone sharp but not unkind.
Koyo stiffened. "Hey, what do you mean?"
Kazuki chuckled. "Dude don't mind him. That's just how he talks, if he trains you, you'll come out stronger than you can imagine."
Mr. Takeda crossed his arms. "We'll see about that. Training isn't easy—most people break before they even get halfway. If you're serious, you'll have to prove it."
Koyo clenched his fists, determination burning in his eyes. "I don't care how tough it is. I'll go through whatever it takes—as long as I can save her."
Seeing his determination, Mr. Takeda's expression softened, just a little.
"Good. That fire in your eyes—that's what I wanted to see. Hold on to it, no matter what happens. From here on out, your training begins."
Koyo blinked, caught off guard. "Wait like right now? As in right this second?"
Mr. Takeda crossed his arms, a faint smirk. "Of course. You think an enemy will give you time to prepare? No warm-ups in the real world."
"All the best, pal," Kazuki said as he turned to leave. "Train hard—we don't have much time on our hands."
Before Koyo could even protest, Mr. Takeda tossed him a pair of practice gloves.
"Put those on," Mr. Takeda ordered. His tone was calm, but there was a weight behind it, the kind that demanded respect.
"First lesson: learn how to take a hit and still stand. Let's see if you've got the guts to survive."
Koyo's heartbeat quickened. He swallowed hard, slipping the gloves on. His hands trembled, but inside his head, there was only one thought—becoming strong and saving Tsukiko. He clenched his fists.
"I'm ready."
Koyo stepped forward, fists raised awkwardly. His stance was unrefined, legs a little shaky.
"Don't overthink," Mr. Takeda said calmly, sliding into position with effortless grace. "Focus. I'm your opponent, not your fear."
Before Koyo could react, Takeda moved. A blur—then a sharp jab tapped Koyo's ribs, forcing the air out of his lungs.
"Gah—!" Koyo staggered back, clutching his side.
"Too slow,"
"If you hesitate like that in the field, you're dead."
Koyo grits his teeth, straightening himself again. His breathing was rough, but his eyes didn't waver.
This time, he lunged forward with all his might, throwing a punch. Takeda deflected it with ease, grabbing Koyo's wrist and twisting it just enough to send him stumbling face-first to the ground.
The impact rattled through his body, but Koyo slammed his fist against the floor, forcing himself back up. Sweat dripped down his forehead, mixing with the sting of pain across his chest.
"I'll keep going!" he shouted, voice raw with determination.
Takeda's eyes softened. "Good… let's see if you can back that up."
Koyo charged again, his fists swinging with desperation rather than skill. His movements were wild, powered only by raw determination.
Takeda sidestepped, letting the punch slice through the air harmlessly before sweeping Koyo's legs out from under him with one sharp kick. Koyo crashed onto the floor, groaning, but rolled back up almost instantly, refusing to stay down.
"Not bad," Takeda muttered. "But you're fighting like a storm without direction. Power without control is useless."
Koyo got up, he clenched his fists tighter, eyes burning.
In that brief moment Takeda darted forward, faster than Koyo's eyes could follow, his palm striking Koyo squarely in the chest. The blow knocked the air from his lungs, and before he could recover, Takeda's elbow clipped the side of his jaw.
Koyo collapsed to the floor, vision spinning, his body refusing to rise this time.
Takeda stood over him, arms folded, his tone calm but firm. "Lesson one—strength means nothing if you can't control it. Learn to think while you fight, or you'll die before you ever save anyone."
Darkness swallowed Koyo's vision, and his body went limp.
Takeda straightened, exhaling through his nose. He studied the boy lying unconscious on the floor, then his gaze shifted toward the entrance of the hall.
Kazuki finally stepped forward. He had been there the whole time, arms crossed, watching silently. Now he knelt beside Koyo.
Takeda's tone carried curiosity. "What's his story? He's reckless, stubborn… but he's carrying something heavy inside him."
Kazuki's eyes softened as he looked at his unconscious friend. His voice dropped into a calm, almost gentle murmur.
"…He's fighting for someone precious. That's all you need to know for now."
Takeda studied Kazuki for a long moment, then gave a faint smirk. "Hmph. Then I suppose I'll see if that fire of his can be forged into something real."
Kazuki carefully lifted Koyo's arm over his shoulder, helping him up. He whispered more to himself than anyone else, "Rest for now, the real training has only just begun."
In his dream, Koyo found himself sitting on a park bench beside Tsukiko. The wind was gentle, the sun warm, and for a moment, everything felt peaceful.
He turned to her and asked softly, "Why do you care for me so much?"
Tsukiko laughed—a small, bright sound that made his chest tighten. "Because I love you, silly," she said with a radiant smile.
But before he could reply, the world around him began to fade. The colours drained away. Koyo reached out desperately, trying to grab her hand, but no matter how far he stretched, she only drifted further.
"Tsukiko! Wait!" he shouted, his voice trembling.
At the very end, just before she vanished completely, he saw her face again but this time, she was crying. Her lips moved, and he heard her voice faintly
"Please… save me, Koyo."
He jolted awake, gasping for air. His chest was tight, and sweat rolled down his face, and his hands were shaking. For a moment, he just sat there, trying to calm his breathing.
The room was quiet. Clean, dim light coming through the curtains.
Koyo slowly sat up, his mind still foggy. "It was… just a dream?" he whispered, rubbing his eyes. Then he looked around again in confusion.
"Where… am I?"
The door on the right creaked open. Mr. Takeda stepped in. He gave Koyo a brief look, then smirked.
"Finally awake, huh?" he said, his tone half teasing, half relieved.
Koyo blinked, still trying to process everything. His head ached faintly, and his body felt heavy.
"Where… where are we? And how long was I out?" he asked, his voice still rough.
Takeda crossed his arms. "We're at the outer training camp, deep inside Aokigahara Forest. Every year, new recruits come here to train under me."
He paused for a moment, then added, "You've been out for about four hours. Kazuki carried you here himself."
Koyo's gaze drifted toward the window, watching the shadows of the forest stretch across the ground. Takeda's voice cut through his thoughts.
"Kazuki already filled me in on everything," he said, his tone steady. "Don't worry, kid. I'll teach you everything you need to know. And looking at that determination in your eyes… I can tell you've got what it takes."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "From tomorrow morning, your real training will start. Rest for now."
That night, Koyo couldn't sleep. His mind kept replaying Tsukiko's face, and the promise he had made to himself. By morning, he was already on his feet. Takeda wasted no time. "Today's the first day. No excuses," he said. Koyo's body ached almost instantly from the basic warm-ups, push-ups, sit-ups, and running drills. But he didn't complain. Every strike, every block, every movement felt like another step closer to saving her.
The days blended together. Takeda pushed him through martial arts techniques, hand-to-hand combat, weapon handling, and reflex training. Koyo learned to read opponents' movements, anticipate attacks, and counter with precision. He ran through obstacle courses, sparred with dummies and other recruits, and trained his endurance and speed. Hours felt like minutes when his focus was on improving.
Weeks passed, then months. Koyo's body transformed. He became faster, stronger, more agile, and his mind sharper. He absorbed techniques quickly, Takeda impressed with how fast he adapted. By the end of the fourth month, Koyo could move fluidly, block and counter attacks almost instinctively, and execute precise strikes with deadly accuracy. More importantly, he had learned patience, observation, and control. Skills far more crucial than brute strength.
Every night, he'd replay Tsukiko's words in his head, letting them fuel his training. The fear, the urgency, the need to save her, they all became the fire driving him. By the time four months had passed, Koyo wasn't just stronger; he was ready. Ready to face whatever awaited him, ready to protect her no matter what.