The Crucible trembled under the weight of eleven remaining fighters. Fourteen if Yuki, Ren and Derek were included, which meant they had to eliminate four more fighters.
Only ten would advance.
Four more eliminations.
That was all it would take to end Stage One.
And every single one of them knew it.
Derek stood at the center of a fractured circle of stone, coat torn at the sleeve.
He was not breathing hard.
He was measuring.
Across the arena, someone whispered, "He hasn't even panicked once…"
Another fighter made the mistake of testing him.
A spear of condensed wind shot forward, thin and lethal.
Derek did not move his feet.
He raised one hand.
A disk of hardened light formed instantly.
The wind spear struck.
Split.
Dispersed harmlessly.
Before the attacker could adjust, Derek's fingers traced a short, deliberate arc.
A beam lanced forward.
Not wide.
Not dramatic.
It pierced straight through the attacker's shoulder and struck the barrier behind him.
The impact detonated in a flash.
The boy followed half a second later.
Eliminated.
The horn echoed.
Thirteen remained.
The crowd shifted.
There was no cheering this time.
Just a growing understanding.
Derek was not overwhelming.
He was inevitable.
In the observation spehere, Yukari folded her arms tightly.
"…He's got potential."
Haruki let out a low whistle. "Whatever, all this is child's play. I could beat everyone in there in less than a minute."
Luna gripped the hem of her shirt as she watched with anticipation.
A body crashed hard across the arena floor.
Yuki skidded through stone dust, ribs screaming, one eye swollen nearly shut.
Three fighters were on him instantly.
One drove a knee into his side before he could rise.
Another kicked his shoulder, knocking him back down.
The third raised both hands, air compressing into a drilling spiral aimed straight at Yuki's chest.
The crowd gasped.
"Move!" Hana shouted from her seat.
Yuki blinked up at the spinning air.
"…You guys are really intense."
The spiral dropped.
At the last instant—
His leg snapped upward.
Heel striking the attacker's wrist.
The air spiral veered off course and tore a trench through the stone beside him instead.
Yuki rolled onto his side and coughed, blood spotting the ground.
He pushed himself to one knee.
The first attacker charged again.
Yuki stayed low.
No flashy flips.
No acrobatics.
Just timing.
As the punch came down, Yuki shifted inside it and drove his forehead forward.
Headbutt.
The crack echoed brutally.
The opponent staggered back, blood trickling out of his forehead.
Yuki spun with the momentum.
Hook kick.
Full rotation.
Heel to the temple.
The opponent lifted off his feet and crashed into a shattered pillar.
Barrier flare.
Eliminated.
The crowd erupted.
Twelve remain.
Two more eliminations ends it.
The second fighter lunged immediately, panic in his eyes.
He tackled Yuki hard.
They hit the ground together.
The wind user from earlier recovered and began gathering another compressed blast from range.
Yuki struggled under the grappler's weight.
His ribs screamed.
The grappler locked an arm around his neck.
"Stay down!"
Yuki wheezed.
"…No."
He planted his bare foot against the ground.
Not strong.
Not stable.
Just enough.
He twisted violently, shifting his hips instead of trying to overpower.
The movement broke the hold slightly.
Yuki drove his elbow backward into the man's throat.
Once.
Twice.
The grip loosened.
Yuki rolled free.
But the wind blast was already coming.
There wasn't time to dodge sideways.
So he ran forward.
Straight toward it.
The blast fired.
Yuki dropped into a slide at the last possible second.
The compressed air tore across his chest, shredding fabric and skin.
He surged up from the slide and didn't slow.
He leapt.
His knee drove straight into the wind user's sternum mid-cast.
The air collapsed inward.
Both of them were thrown backward from the recoil.
Yuki hit the ground hard.
The wind user hit the barrier harder.
Flash.
Eliminated.
The horn blared.
Eleven remain.
The sound of the horn had not even settled when something heavy crashed into Yuki's side.
He didn't see it coming.
A shoulder.
Solid. Reinforced.
It drove straight into his already damaged ribs and sent him skidding across fractured stone. His vision flashed white.
The bearded earth user.
Still standing.
Still furious.
"Stay down," the man growled, slamming both palms into the ground.
Stone rose instantly.
Not a wall.
A fist.
It erupted upward from beneath Yuki and caught him in the stomach, launching him a few feet into the air before he slammed back down.
The crowd gasped.
Haruki's voice dropped low. "He better not lose."
Yukari didn't speak. Her eyes never left him.
Yuki tried to push up.
His arms trembled.
The earth user walked forward, heavy steps cracking the floor with each one. Stone layered over his forearms like gauntlets.
"You're done."
He grabbed Yuki by the collar and lifted him halfway off the ground.
Yuki's feet barely touched stone.
His swollen eye was nearly closed now.
Blood ran down his chin.
The earth user pulled back his stone-armored fist.
The crowd noise dulled into a distant hum.
The punch landed.
It slammed into Yuki's jaw and drove him sideways. He hit the ground and didn't get up immediatly.
Ten seconds unconscious meant elimination.
One.
Yuki's fingers twitched.
Two.
The earth user approached again, breathing heavily, lifting a massive stone pillar from the ground behind him.
Three.
"End this," someone in the crowd whispered.
Four.
The pillar came down.
Yuki rolled barely an inch in time. The stone smashed beside his head and shattered.
Five.
He tried to stand.
His knees buckled.
Six.
The earth user roared and grabbed him again, dragging him upright by the front of his torn shirt.
"You don't belong here! You freak!"
Seven.
Yuki's head hung.
Loose.
Still.
Eight.
The earth user pulled back his fist for the finishing blow.
Nine—
Yuki's eyes opened.
Not wide.
Not dramatic.
Just steady.
His hand moved first.
It wasn't fast.
It wasn't flashy.
It was simple.
He stepped forward.
Inside the arc of the incoming punch.
His ribs screamed.
His vision blurred.
But his feet planted.
Bare against broken stone.
His fist drove forward.
No spin.
No technique.
Just everything.
It connected square with the earth user's chest.
For a split second—
Nothing happened.
Then the stone armor cracked.
A sharp, spiderweb fracture across the entire torso.
The sound came next.
A concussive boom that echoed across the Crucible.
The earth user lifted off the ground.
He flew backward.
Through the shattered remains of the pillar behind him.
Through it.
Stone exploded outward in fragments.
His body didn't stop.
It kept going.
Until it struck the barrier.
The barrier flared violently.
Then ejected him out of bounds in a burst of light.
Silence.
Complete.
The horn blared.
Ten remain.
Yuki stayed standing for one breath longer.
The arena detonated into noise.
Luna was screaming his name.
Haruki was laughing in stunned disbelief.
Yukari finally exhaled, a hand covering her mouth, but her voice remained steady.
"He chose to stand."
Across the field, Ren stared at the crater where the pillar had been.
"…That wasn't Kizo."
Derek's eyes caught the arena lights.
"No," he replied quietly. "That was will."
On the broken stone, Yuki wiped blood from his mouth and managed the faintest grin.
"…I really," he muttered hoarsely, "need a nap."
But he was still conscious.
Still inside the barrier.
Still advancing.
And no one watching would ever mistake him for weak again.
He simply waved toward the crowd.
For a split second, there was silence.
Then the arena exploded.
The roar was deafening. It rolled down from the stands like thunder collapsing onto the battlefield. Cheers echoed, overlapping, distorting, swelling into something larger than him.
Yuki just grinned and gave a lazy two–finger peace sign.
Stage One had ended.
The remaining ten fighters were escorted below the arena to the medical wing before advancing to the next stage.
The bright white lights were almost jarring after the chaos of the Crucible.
Yuki lay back against a narrow medical bed, shirt was still on. A nurse stood beside him, her healing Kizo glowing faintly as she pressed her palms against him, slowly working warmth into torn muscle.
Her hands moved carefully over his side.
The door slid open.
Seri walked in.
Her eyes immediately locked onto the scene.
The nurse.
Her hands.
On him.
The air shifted.
The nurse stiffened under Seri's gaze. It wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic. It was quiet and cutting.
"I'll take over," Seri said.
The nurse offered a tight, nervous smile. "O-Of course."
She stepped away quickly and exited the room.
Silence lingered for a moment after the door shut.
Seri approached the bed and placed both hands on Yuki's chest.
Her Kizo flowed stronger than the nurse's had. Brighter.
Warmer. The bruises softened. The swelling around his eye reduced. The ache in his ribs dulled.
"You did good out there," Seri said quietly.
Yuki smiled and tapped his chest proudly.
"I'll probably win a medal for the most injured fighter."
She almost laughed.
Instead, he suddenly grabbed her hands.
Then sat up.
Close.
Too close.
"What?" she asked, heat creeping into her cheeks.
Yuki looked directly into her eyes.
"I want to ask you something."
She swallowed. "Ask."
"Answer honestly. You're older than me. You should set a good example."
She frowned slightly. "I'm only a year older. And yes, I'll answer honestly."
He held her gaze.
"Do you want me?" A curious expression hung on his face.
The question landed heavy.
Blunt.
Unfiltered.
Her breath caught.
Her mind betrayed her instantly.
She imagined it. Not just desire. Not just physical closeness. Him choosing her. His hands. His warmth. The way he had looked at her just now.
Heat rushed through her body so violently it almost made her dizzy.
She stumbled back a step.
Her back hit the wall.
"W-What kind of question is that?" she managed, covering her mouth as her face burned.
Yuki stood slowly and closed the distance.
Not aggressive.
Not mocking.
Just curious.
"I see the way you look at me," he said plainly. "I wondered what it meant. I watched a movie once. The girl looked at the guy like that. They ended up together."
He tilted his head slightly.
"So I wanted to know."
Her heart pounded painfully in her chest.
Tears welled up unexpectedly.
"Is that what you think?" she whispered. "That I only look at you like that because I want something physical?"
His expression changed immediately.
"No," he said, softer now.
He reached up and gently patted her head.
"I just wanted to know if you liked me. Or if it was just… attraction."
The word felt smaller than what he meant.
Seri's world tilted.
But does he love me?
Does he even know what he feels?
Her thoughts spiraled.
If she confessed and he didn't feel the same—
If he only meant curiosity—
If she destroyed what they already had—
She turned her face away.
"I don't feel that way towards you," she said quietly. "I just see you as a close friend."
The lie scraped against her throat on the way out.
Yuki paused.
Only for a second.
Then he smiled.
Light. Playful. Easy.
"Got it."
The overhead speakers crackled.
"The Second Stage begins in five minutes."
Seri pushed off the wall and walked toward the door. Her head remained lowered.
"I'll see you later," she said softly. "Be careful."
She didn't look back.
The door slid shut.
The room fell silent again.
Yuki stood there for a moment.
Then he sat back down slowly, staring at his bare feet resting against the cold tile.
He scratched the back of his head and let out a quiet breath.
A wry smile tugged at his lips.
"…I think I have a crush on her."
No audience.
No jokes.
Just the realization settling into his chest heavier than any punch he'd taken that day.
And upstairs—
The arena waited.
So did she.