Chapter 005
A Jump of Faith
As they arrived back at the training grounds, everyone assumed Yugo got the biggest scolding ever for being late.
And Mr. Numbers' expression hadn't changed towards Yugo at all. It never did.
Yugo caught his gaze once or twice across the yard, but it was like the moment at the Trophy Wall had never happened — sealed away behind those flat, half-dead eyes.
Yugo didn't mind. He kept his proud smile fixed firmly in place as he worked through his two hundred push-ups, still in his father's jacket, still not having eaten breakfast — it was served at 5:45, and he'd missed it. But anyone watching him might have thought he'd just come from a full meal and a solid eight hours of sleep.
And just like that.
"198... 199... 200."
He was on his feet in an instant, like someone had flipped a switch.
Around him, some of the class was still grinding through their hundred. Apart from Jin who finished first — no surprise. His two lackeys followed close behind. After them came Gad, Lot, and Emma in quick succession, then Ken and Tom neck-and-neck like they were racing each other. Yugo finished 9th.
One by one, the stragglers finished.
But no one was given a moment to breathe.
One hundred sit-ups. One hundred squats. Then a ten-kilometre run around the training grounds.
By the time it was over, the recruits looked like survivors. Sweat-soaked, hollow-eyed, breathing through their teeth.
"Attention."
Mr. Numbers moved through the line slowly, correcting posture with a firm hand and zero comment. Almost everyone had something wrong — slouched spines, dropped shoulders, heels not quite together. He adjusted each one without a word.
Only Jin and two others didn't need Mr. Numbers' correction.
When he reached Yugo, he stopped.
For a moment, something shifted in Mr. Numbers' face — so brief that most of the class missed it entirely. Maybe it was the jacket. Maybe it was something else — something in the way Yugo stood, chin up, grinning despite harsh exercises and no breakfast, that dragged a memory up from somewhere deep.
He saw Yugo's father.
Some of the recruits whispered that Yugo's posture must have been spectacularly bad to cause that kind of reaction.
Without a word, Mr. Numbers adjusted Yugo's stance.
"Forward, March!"
And with a single command everyone was led to the far side of the training grounds, an obstacle course.
"As you've had a thorough warm-up," Mr. Numbers said, without irony, "you should have no trouble with the next task."
No one dared respond. Even the recruits who looked ready to collapse said nothing.
Yugo threw a crisp salute.
"Sir, yes sir!"
It was completely out of place. But something about the sheer conviction of it made the rest of the class say it too, a half-second behind — a reflex, like an echo.
Mr. Numbers didn't react. He continued:
"This course is not about who finishes first. It is about who finishes. Expect to fail. In the history of this Academy, only three recruits have completed this course on their first day." He paused. "Principal Storm was one of them."
Something lit up behind Yugo's eyes.
From the spectator stands, a group of second-years had arrived, settling in to watch. Rita spotted him immediately.
"YUGO! HEYA!" Rita waved to Yugo like she'd just seen a long-time friend.
"HEYYYY! WHAT BRINGS YOU HERE?!"
"WE FINISHED TRAINING EARLY, JUST ENJOYING THE SHOW!"
"COOL, I'M ABOUT TO DO THE OBSTACLE COURSE!"
"NICE, GOOD LUCK!"
The exchange concluded. The entire class had been watching in stunned silence. Even the second-years were caught off guard by the interaction.
Mr. Numbers raised his hand.
"Start."
— ✦ —
Even after what Mr. Numbers said about this not being a race, most treated it as one.
Despite the exhaustion dragging at their limbs, the gaps between recruits stayed surprisingly close. Through the mud pit. Over the log skips. Up the rope climb. Under the wire crawl.
Until they hit a wall. A literal wall.
It rose out of the ground like the side of a building — sheer, smooth, offering nothing to grip. No footholds. No rope. Just a flat, vertical face and the empty sky above it.
Jin was the first to stop. He stood at the base, looked up, and with a calm voice and a dismissive expression said:
"I give up."
His two lackeys stopped beside him without a word. Whatever Jin's fire was made of, it wasn't stupidity — he could see exactly what the wall was asking for, and he knew no one in their year could answer that request. Not yet.
Some tried anyway, throwing themselves at it until they slid back down the smooth surface. Eventually, one by one, all dropped away.
But not everyone would give up so easily; Tom, Ken and Yugo stood their ground. They seemed not to be influenced by anyone's choice.
"Tom, you always get in my way!" Ken addressed Tom as an old friend, like having old friends as a 15 year old was possible.
"I'm only in your way because I'm always ahead," hissed Tom as both clashed heads, fire burning in their eyes.
Yugo looked at them and said:
"You guys must be best friends!"
Both looked back at him in disbelief.
"NO," they said, taking offense.
Yugo responded with a smile like that scene was a moment to cherish.
"Guys, you still have a wall to climb! Hello?" someone shouted from the stands.
"We know!" Tom and Ken shouted together in annoyance.
"HAHAHA, I knew you were friends!" Yugo laughed while pointing at them.
But as Yugo laughed, Tom and Ken's faces changed. They got serious. Both looked at the wall, analysing it, looking for any type of imperfections that could give them an advantage.
Ken was the first one to try, moving quickly in sly steps — reaching high, but not high enough. Then Tom joined him, his movements were deliberate, full of energy. Watching them was like a dance of wind and rain, each pushing slightly further than the other.
Yugo on the other hand stood at the base of the wall, not wanting to fall behind. He started by trying to solve what was in front of him. The grin was still there, but quieter — less performance, more thought.
Then he started moving.
He ran at the wall, planted his foot against the surface, pushed off, reached — and fell back.
He tried again. Same result.
As Yugo tried, Ken and Tom disregarded him entirely — he didn't even come close to the heights they reached.
"Give it up already broom boy." A voice came from the stands. "You're getting in the way of them two."
Rita said nothing. She watched.
Yugo got up. He looked at the wall. Then, slowly, he reached up and peeled off his father's jacket.
He looked at it — like a treasure for a moment — then wrapped the sleeve around his right forearm.
He stepped back, rolled his neck. Set his jaw. And then he ran.
Not the same run as before. This was something else — low, fast, deliberate. His expression had changed. The grin was gone. What replaced it wasn't anger. It was focus — the kind that doesn't have room for anything else.
Tom and Ken looked at him, both trying to process what they were witnessing.
His right foot hit the wall. His left. His right again. He climbed higher than any of his classmates had managed — and then the momentum died, and he was about to fall.
That was when he snapped his arm out, sending the jacket up as a whip. The end of one sleeve on his hand, the other went over the wall slapping it on its back. With a moment of pure kinetic energy and inhuman timing — Yugo cleared the wall.
For a half-second, he was just sky — and as he made it over the wall, his grin was back, big as always.
But everything that goes up...
"Oh."
Must come down, and he did — face-first.
The courtyard went utterly silent.
Rita broke it on a whim.
"YOU DID IT!"
Yugo peeled himself off the ground. His face was bruised, dirt-streaked, and wearing a grin wider than before.
"HAHAHA." He struck a hero pose.
Voices bled in from the crowd:
"He cheated, right?"
"Look how he landed — what a clown."
"That didn't count, surely."
Jin said nothing.
Jin knew better. Even with the jacket, what Yugo had just done wasn't possible for anyone else standing in that yard — not today, not in the state they were in. He'd seen the runs. He'd seen the wall; the task at hand was clear. It wasn't about climbing; it was about clearing it in a single leap.
"Dismissed."
As the recruits filtered out, Mr. Numbers' gaze lingered on Yugo — bruised, beaming, jacket clutched in one hand.
In the background, faint voices trailed — "Sir, we weren't done—" "Sir, please—" — before fading into silence.
Mr. Numbers said nothing.
But something shifted in those half-dead eyes. Perhaps the boy wasn't just chaos.
— End of Chapter 5 —