The morning sun broke through the clouds, its pale light was spilling across the city, creating the shadows. The streets were quieter than usual, but inside Ryan West's chest, it felt like his insides were beating like some war drum.
He slowly walked towards the school with his hands shoved deep inside of his pockets as his heart thumped way too loud that he could hear his heartbeat.
'What if I fail? After all this? What if I screw up in front of everyone?'
His throat was dry, sweat formed up on his temple. The closer he got to the school gates, the heavier his steps became.
[DING!]
[Calm down, Host. Overthinking before the battle is a rookie mistake.]
"It's easy for you to say that, on the other hand it's difficult for me to actually do it." He thought as his shoulders shrugged a bit downwards.
[Correction: You could get knocked out in front of multiple schools. This is inter-school, after all.]
"Wow! Thanks, that totally helps..." Ryan muttered under his breath as he looked quite pissed.
[Focus, Host. Nerves mean you care. Control your breathing. You've trained for this.]
Ryan sighed hard, forcing his shoulders to relax as he entered the building. The familiar smell of the floor polish and cheap cafeteria food didn't do much to calm his senses down, but at least it grounded him a bit.
He made his way to the boxing club room, the place that had been both his torture chamber and his temple over the past few days.
As he pushed the door open, the sound of the gloves hitting the pad filled the air. The other students were already there—some of them were stretching, some practicing and some sitting with that fake confidence on their face to look tougher than the others.
Ryan took a good look around the hall as he didn't find any trace of Arthur—Arthur wasn't there yet.
Ryan stepped in quietly, nodding to a few people as he walked towards the back to grab his gloves. But, before he could even put them on, he heard some guys walk towards him.
Two members of the boxing club walked towards Ryan together as one of them muttered out loud. "Yo."
Ryan turned quickly as he saw them standing beside the bench, both had smug grins on their faces.
The first was tall and wiry, his hair gelled back, the kind of guy from whom you can only expect trouble—looked like he's the type who spent more time looking in the mirror than training.
The second one was quite shorter but stockier, arms folded and eyes filled with mockery.
"Let's go mess with that fat ass, yeah?" the short one whispered, not even trying to hide his hatred.
Ryan stiffened, shoulders got straightened.
They both approached him, fake smiles on their faces.
"So, you're Ryan, huh?" the tall one said. "I'm... well introduction is not that important, haha. Are you competing today?" he said with a grin on his face.
Ryan hesitated a bit as he gave a small nod.
The short one snorted. "You? Compete? What a joke." He laughed out so loud that it made others turn their heads towards them. "Bro, this isn't dodgeball. Do you even know how much stamina one needs to last one round?"
Ryan didn't respond to him, his hands slowly curled into fists at his side—trying to control his anger.
"Come on, don't give me that look man, I feel quite bad." the tall one said, smirking. "You're what — seventy-something kilos now, right? Still carrying enough fat to cushion a knockout, huh?"
Ryan's jaw stiffened, words built up inside his throat, but before he could even speak—
The door slid open.
He didn't say a word, didn't even glance at them. Just walked past them with that cold, detached aura that could freeze an entire room.
The two kids who had been laughing and mocking Ryan suddenly went quiet as they both noticed Arthur walk past them.
Their heads turned downwards, eyes facing the ground. They muttered some excuses as they both slipped away from there, pretending that they had something "Important" to do.
Ryan slowly exhaled.
Arthur stopped near the lockers and turned his head slightly towards Ryan. "Ignore the noise," he said simply, voice cold. "Weak men talk the loudest before the actual thing starts, ignore such kind."
Then he walked on, his presence leaving a trail of silence.
The coach clapped his hands once as he got on top of a table to announce something up—drawing everyone's attention towards him.
"Alright, listen up!" he barked, he was an older man, mid-forties maybe, with a jaw like granite and veins bulging on his forearms—looked like his physique is in top-notch condition.
"Today isn't a day for your so-called excuses or fear. You all have trained for this day — you've bled, sweat and puked for this." He said, voice filled with authority.
He looked around the room for a brief moment as he scanned everyone present in there.
"I don't care if your opponent is stronger than you, bigger than you, fiercer than you or even meaner than you. You have to get in the ring and you fight like your life depends on it, because for the name of this boxing club—it does."
His voice grew even louder, charged fire with it.
"Bring home gold, don't you dare come back empty-handed."
The room slowly echoed with claps, shouts and the metallic thud of gloves bumping together. Ryan's chest swelled as his heart thumped faster—part fear, part pride.
Then came the announcement over the school's speakers about the upcoming events.
"All the clubs, report to the main field for the orientation. The Inter-School Tournament begins in fifteen minutes."
Ryan walked behind Arthur as they left the clubroom and made their way through the hall. His palms were sweaty, his heartbeat a blur.
Arthur, in contrast, walked like he always did — calm, precise, collected. His bag slung over one shoulder, expression unreadable.
Ryan looked at him, quietly amazed.
'How does he stay so… steady? Like he's not even human.'
[That's the difference between you and him, Host.]
Ryan frowned. "Gee, thanks."
[He's not fearless, Host. He's focused. Learn the difference.]
Ryan nodded slightly to himself. "Right… focused."