The room seemed to pulse with anticipation as the two squads squared off. Raizo kept his gaze steady, his body tense but unmoving, waiting for any sign of aggression. The tension was thick in the air, the feeling of an imminent clash hanging between them.
Kenji gave nothing away, his expression as sharp as always, calculating the strengths of the opposing squad. He shifted his weight slightly, preparing for whatever came next.
Hannah, on edge, flexed her fingers, ready to take action. Despite the nerves bubbling up inside her, the desire to prove herself pushed those feelings aside. This was her chance to show just what she could do.
Kaiori stood a little apart from the rest, her sharp eyes glinting as she sized up the opposition. She wasn't one to hold back, and she was already thinking ahead to how best to use her Rift abilities.
Shiori stepped forward, the tension between her squad and the other palpable. Her voice broke the silence, sharp and confident. "You think you can take us? You've got another thing coming."
One of the opposing squad members tilted his head slightly, his grin widening, still calm. "I'm not here to take anyone down," he replied, his voice light but his eyes calculating. "I'm here for a challenge. Let's see who can back up their words."
The door slid open once again, this time revealing Shota, who stepped into the room with an effortless air of authority. His presence alone seemed to shift the atmosphere, his grey uniform a stark contrast to the navy of the other squad members. He didn't say a word at first, but his eyes took in the scene before him, noting the tension in the room.
One of the members of the opposing squad gave a small nod to Shota, and the two locked eyes for a brief moment. The exchange was almost unnoticeable, but it was clear that Shota was now the one in control of the situation.
Shota finally spoke, his voice smooth and calm as ever, "Looks like we've got a fight on our hands. Don't disappoint me." He turned his gaze toward Shiori, a spark of challenge in his eyes. "Let's see if you're as tough as you look." The moment Shota's words echoed through the room, the silence that followed was almost deafening. The tension had reached its peak, and now it was time to see who could back up their words.
Shiori turned to face her squad, her eyes scanning each of them before landing on Kenji. "You're up first," she said, her voice steady but with an edge that left no room for hesitation.
Kenji nodded, his expression unreadable. He stepped forward, his eyes narrowing slightly as he faced the opposing squad. His stance was calm, almost casual, but there was a sharpness behind his gaze that made it clear he wasn't underestimating his opponent.
Izan stepped forward in turn, his grin widening. He cracked his neck with a casual ease, his eyes meeting Kenji's. "Let's see if your reputation is deserved," he said, his voice smooth and teasing.
The two squared off, the distance between them closing. The rest of the squad members stood on the sidelines, watching intently. Raizo's eyes never left Izan, assessing him like a predator preparing to strike, while Hannah and Kaiori exchanged brief glances, both curious about how the fight would unfold.
Shiori stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed, her eyes cold and focused. "Don't disappoint," she muttered under her breath, her gaze flicking from Kenji to Izan.
With a sharp motion, the fight began.
Kenji was the first to move, darting forward with a precision that made it clear his strikes weren't just fast—they were calculated. He aimed for Izan's side, anticipating a swift counter.
But Izan was ready. With a fluid motion, he sidestepped, his body twisting to avoid the blow. He countered with a sharp jab toward Kenji's chest, a move that seemed almost effortless. The force behind it, though, was enough to make Kenji take a half step back.
The match was a study in contrasts. Kenji's style was precise, almost surgical, while Izan relied on fluid, unpredictable movements, a style that seemed to always be one step ahead of his opponent.
As the two continued to circle, the rest of the squad could only watch, atmosphere crackling with the energy of the fight. The clang of Kenji's strikes against Izan's defenses echoed through the room, every movement sharp and calculated.
Kenji's posture was sharp, coiled like a spring. Izan grinned, loose and confident, as if none of this was serious.
Then Kenji moved.
A sharp step forward, fast and precise he swept low, aiming to take Izan's legs out from under him. If the sweep landed, the fight would be over in a blink.
But Izan shifted, smooth and instinctive, his foot barely clearing the arc of Kenji's leg. He stepped back, just out of range, eyes flashing with interest now.
"Nice try," he said, voice light but edged.
He moved in instantly, his jab flashing out like a viper. Then another. Then another.
Kenji ducked the first, swayed past the second. The third clipped his shoulder but he twisted with it, resetting his stance mid motion.
He drove forward.
His punches cut through the air left, right, low, then high. Izan blocked the first two, barely dodged the third but the fourth struck clean, knuckles hitting his ribs hard.
A quiet grunt escaped Izan, but Kenji didn't stop. He closed the distance, fists hammering in fast succession.
One punch to the stomach. Izan faltered.
Another to the chest. He stumbled back, forced to raise his arms to guard.
Kenji stayed on him.
He moved in close, driving a knee up into Izan's core, then shifted back just enough to avoid the wild counterstrike. His follow-up was relentless hooks from both sides, forcing Izan to guard high, then a blow to the gut that knocked the wind out of him.
The sound of fists, shoes skidding against the floor, and held breaths filled the room like pressure in a sealed space.
Izan backed off, jaw tight now, grin gone.
He moved again, lower this time, swiping at Kenji's legs in retaliation
But Kenji shifted just out of range. And then, in the same breath, struck forward.
A straight shot brutal and fast slammed directly into Izan's chest.
The air left Izan's lungs in a rush. His eyes widened, knees buckling slightly. He staggered back, coughing once, arms dropping for half a second.
He blinked, trying to steady himself trying to find Kenji again.
But the space in front of him was empty.
He turned left nothing.
Right still nothing.
Then
A breath against the back of his neck.
He started to turn
Kenji was already behind him.
In one clean motion, Kenji grabbed him from behind, arms locking around Izan's torso. Then he twisted, lifted, and drove him backward in a clean suplex that slammed Izan's shoulders into the mat.
The impact echoed through the room.
Gasps rang out.
Kenji rolled back to his feet in one fluid motion, calm and focused.
Izan lay there for a second, stunned, eyes blinking up at the ceiling, the wind knocked clean out of him.
Shiori's voice cut through the silence.
"Match over."
Shiori's voice cut through the silence.
A beat of stillness followed—then movement.
Takumi, another one of Shota's squad members, stepped forward, arms crossed, jaw tight. He scoffed. "Tch. You get thrown once and you're down? Get up, man. We didn't come here to lose."
Rika stood with a hand on her hip, expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of interest in her eyes. "So that's their precision fighter," she murmured, half to herself. "Izan got sloppy. He'll hear about it."
Seiji leaned forward, brows raised in surprise. "Damn. That suplex was clean," he muttered under his breath. "Didn't expect that."
Miyu said nothing, barely blinking. She just stared at Kenji, eyes calculating. She tilted her head slightly, almost as if she were rewinding the entire fight in her mind, analyzing every step, every shift in stance.
And then, finally, Shota moved.
He stepped forward, slow and deliberate. The rest of his squad straightened slightly as he passed, like his presence alone shifted the atmosphere.
He stopped at Izan's side, glanced down once, then looked up at Kenji.
"Not bad," Shota said coolly, tone even. "You're not just flash. You think."
Then he glanced at Izan, who was now sitting up, still catching his breath.
"You good?"
Izan gave a short nod, a half-laugh, half-cough escaping him. "Yeah. Didn't see that coming."
Shota didn't smile. But he didn't scold him either. "Then pay attention next time."
The moment passed, tension still thick in the air, but now tempered by something else—respect, maybe. Or curiosity.
From across the room, Kaiori leaned toward Hannah and whispered, "I think we just made a statement."
Hannah nodded, her eyes still locked on the scene. "Yeah. One hell of one."
Shiori didn't say anything. She just turned to the rest of her squad.
"Next."