Present day.

11 AM

Naoki Miyamoto and Naota Sen are outside behind the academy where the park was at. Said "park" was more of an open field full of parched grass, dirt, and sand. It is a bright and blazing morning. The wind is cool and breezy. Nobody else is outside. The sun stares at them. The birds watch. They have been physically training for the past six hours.

Bruises were peppered all throughout Naoki's body, alongside a few scant cuts here and there. The teenager breathes heavily, wiping off the pint of sweat on his brow. His tank top grossly sticks to him with all the sweat acting as adhesive. Shorts weren't doing him much good. Perhaps he should've worn less black next time. He sits back up, after resting on the ground for a couple of seconds. He smiles at his teacher.

"Aren't you at least a bit hot?"

Naota did not have a single scratch on him, much less a single bead of sweat. He wore his typical indigo tank top and shorts combo, alongside his iconic sunglasses. He was positioned a few meters away from his student.

"It's a bit warm, but if you actually managed to make me move seriously, then maybe I'd start sweating.

But alas,

no dice."

The teacher shot a teasing smirk towards Naoki.

"(Tch, fucking prick...)" thought Naoki to himself, chuckling.

Naoki taunts, "I thought you were the mature type!" He then gets up.

"Well I guess you thought wrong."

Naota sticks his tongue out in a cheeky fashion.

"Tcheheheheh.... alright."

Naoki dusts himself off and assumes his fighting stance once more. With a loose and slightly hunched over posture, and an orthodox footing for a kickboxer, he readies his right hand near his chin, while his open left hand guards the other side of his face.

Naota slowly uncrosses his arms and readies a loose boxing stance.

Miyamoto thinks to himself: "(These past few 'rounds', I've been coming towards him... so now, how about having him come towards m-)"

Within an instant, Naota reads Naoki's body language and deduces his plan of action.

In a fraction of a second, Naota traverses several meters and slips through Naoki's guard, launching a meaty punch that sends Naoki a few yards away. As he's sent flying, a stream of blood flows out of Naoki's nose like a hose. The kid's limp body thuds on the ground; soon after, he lets out a loud muffled groan.

At that moment, both Naoki's mind and Naota's lips said the same thing:

"No, that won't work."

Naoki got up, dusted himself off, and resumed his stance once more.

"(Okay, so that didn't work; point taken.)"

As Naoki ponders up a plan, Naota shoots out a reminder.

"Remember, you only need to graze me once before we start to amp it up."

"Oh- oh! OH NO REALLY? Naaaaaaahhhh, thanks for reminding me! Little hurdle though, I can't fucking HIT THIS ASSHOLE"

"...hey that's not very nice..."

Naota puts his hand on his chin as if he were pondering.

"On one hand, it would be rude to start before you're ready...

...on the other hand-

The enemy won't wait for you to be ready."

"Oh god damn i-"

The teacher bursts forward with his hands in a Peek-a-boo style boxing position; as he closes the distance, he starts shooting out quick jabs and straights. Naoki jumps back, aiming to circle around his opponent so that one of the straights stray forward, thus enabling Naoki to slip and counter from the side. But the more Naoki tries to backtrack, the closer Sen gets, denying such simple leeway. To turn the tides around, Naoki tries to shoot back a couple of strikes while backpedaling. Though this does stave off a couple of shots, this doesn't change the position: Naoki is still on his backfoot- quite literally. So instead of backtracking and trying to have Sen falter with timing, Naoki instead stands his ground, deflects a jab, and parries a straight that came after that. Without breaking a beat, Naota ducks underneath Naoki's counter hook. To counter a hook, Naota, like most boxers, opt to shoot an uppercut.

Naoki expects this.

So instead of committing a complete hook, Naoki seems as if he was about to shoot a hook but in actuality, was scrunching up his right arm and rolled his shoulder over. He slams his own forearm to block Naota's uppercut, and uses his left hand to throw a hook towards Sen's head. Since Naota's right arm was busy throwing an uppercut- and was blocked, there is no way he could block with the same arm. With frustrated vigor and uncontained excitement, Naoki grits his teeth and shoots his punch.

"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII GOTCHA-"

His punch stops an inch from Naota's head.

Naota catches Naoki's wrist with his left hand.

"If we were normal people, that would've hit.

But-"

Naoki sighs, groaning his sentence while bracing himself for what's to come.

"-we're not normal people..."

Tightening his grip, Naota carries Naoki's body over the air and slams him on the ground. Naoki's left shoulder dislocates upon impact.

"GAH-" gasps Naoki as all the wind gets knocked out of him.

In frustration, he says, "Hey, when am I able to use psychopower?"

Naoki muffles his pained groan as he pops his shoulder back into place.

"I get the basic gist of the exercise but this is looking to be impossible 💀"

"You're not allowed to use PsychoPower until you land a hit on me. If you depend on psychopower whenever you get yourself in trouble, you and your ki won't get stronger. And when you put too much pressure on that crutch- it breaks."

Naoki sighes, before rebutting, "I understand that, but it's still a part of my kit. I think it's stupid to just depend on one thing if I can't use the other."

"You're thinking about it the wrong way. If you use one when the other fails, and vice versa, what happens when both don't work?"

"I just mix them together."

"That is a solution. However, if the fundamentals of both aren't solid enough in the first place, what makes you think mixing them together will grant you a high chance at victory? Don't get me wrong, I understand what you're saying and for the most part, it has some truth to it. But let's say for example, your ki mastery is at 10% as well as your psychopower mastery."

"Dude, there's no way I'm that weak💀"

"Again, you're not, I'm just explaining it in a digestible way. Besides, equating ki, psychopower, and sorcery mastery in terms of percentages is a bit facetious since the term for 'mastery' is so broad, it can't be equated on a one-to-one ratio with percentages, but I digress. Again, just for explanation's sake. So, let's say your ki and psychopower are both at 10%. If you add them both together, you get 20%. Let's throw in a little extra 5% in the chance that you come up with a creative mix-up that the opponent doesn't see coming. 25% right? Simple. Now, let's say your opponent has ki that's at 25%. Just ki; no sense of sorcery or psychopower at all. He's going to kick your ass, let's be honest-"

"-Wait but then I'm right!" interrupts Naoki. "What would be the point of training in ki if someone out there is just going to brutalize me with specialization? Then I'll just use psychopower!"

"Ah but that's the thing. Even if his resistance to psychopower is low (though he specializes in ki compared to you, I'm sure he would have a defense against that but regardless), if he senses that you're able to use psychopower, let me ask you this question: what makes you think he's going to let you use it in the first place? The very first thing in his mind is 'damn, this guy has an ability that I don't like, I'll just blitz him'. And yes, you have greater psychopower than him, which can give you an edge, don't get me wrong. But if you don't have ki that's good enough to defend or outpace him, what makes you think you won't be obliterated in the first few seconds of the fight."

Naoki grumbles at the lecture.

"Mmmmm.... I guess..."

"You have the right mind on track, don't get me wrong. But, for people like you and I whose skill sets are half-and-half, I'm just training you in what's optimal. There's merit to being an all-rounder, just as there is to being a pure specialist; conversely, we all suffer our own weaknesses. You do have the right mindset: 'if this won't work I'll use this, and combine my abilities to defeat my opponent'. But you just don't have the various options that an all-rounder has; your kit is just not as big as theirs. So we're simply just solidifying your base, but not to the point of a specialist. The literal middle path. Got it?"

"Yeah...yeah..."

Naota inches closer to Naoki.

Naoki dusts himself off and gets up.

"From the top," they both announce.

Naota continues to pressure Naoki again with jabs and elbows. Naoki attempts to parry them, but due to the increasing speed, a couple of strikes manage to slip through and pepper his face with bruises. To stop this barrage, Naoki's plan evolves.

The student thinks to himself, "(if I'm getting hit even attempting to dodge these, then I might as well trade blows with him)."

The teacher's intuition reads Naoki's attempt loud and clear.

As a response, he slips underneath a cross from Naoki and greets his student's stomach with a meaty hook. The student of course falls to his knees, holding his stomach.

"You were planning on trading blows, weren't you?" says the teacher with an unamused tone.

Naoki stays silent; probably because he's hurling a liter of saliva.

"I'll grant you extra points for ingenuity, but the last thing you want to do is trade blows, especially if the person is stronger than you-"

As Naoki finishes coughing, he immediately dashes towards Naota from his crouched position.

Miyamoto proceeds to send a flurry of punches and elbows towards Naota's way. Though the teacher takes little effort in dodging the strikes, he's at least being kept busy. Just as the teacher pivots to the side, Naoki does the same, sidestepping so that they face the same way again. The teacher shoots a raised eyebrow; "(back to square one?)" he thinks to himself. As every punch fails to miss its mark, that's when Naoki starts seeing the "holes" in the defense. Yes... that's it... If my elbows don't reach, then I'll just punch. If my punches don't reach his face, then I'll keep him from backpedaling. If he keeps dodging my punches, then I'll aim for the stomach. If he blocks the stomach then I will simply continue with the recycling punches jab -> cross -> hook -> uppercut -> cross -> hook -> uppercut -> cross -> hook -> uppercut. Slowly yet surely, the teacher's concentration in the fight steadily grew. Yes... Yes; this is it Naoki, you're doing great! The sun shines upon them, their silhouettes highlighted. The light's angle lowers, illuminating the shadow's potential. Onlookers look at the both of them, bloodied and bruised. Naota pattycakes Naoki's punches faster and faster. Both of them smile in the moment. Absolute elation. Endorphic heaven. Five minutes of physical enlightenment.

Right as one of Naoki's punches graze mere centimeters apart from Naota's chin, the teacher slips back and counters with a hook aimed towards Naoki's face.

Even if he weren't looking, Naoki feels it. The intention. A realization of the movement inside his personal space. He instinctively ducks underneath the punch.

Naoki dodges.

The student immediately postures up, processing what just happened. Both the teacher and the student halt their movements, look at each other, and share the same expression.

"...Huh...Huh? Did I just? Ha...Hahahaha! I dodged it. I DODGED IT!" shouts Naoki.

"You did!" congratulates Naota.

"Did you see that? I ACTUALLY DID IT PAHAHAHAHA-"

Naota punches Naoki in the face, indenting the student's nose inside its socket.

With a confused look, Naota looks at his fist, then at his student on the ground.

"...

...why didn't you dodge that one...?"

"Haha...I get it... the opponent isn't going to wait for me when I'm excited, I know..." groans Naoki, pulling his nose back out.

"...but that wasn't a joke...?" mutters Naota.

"I digress though. You're starting to get the main lesson at hand. You felt it just now right? That odd feeling of being able to read the situation?"

Naoki gets up and responds, "reading my opponent?"

"No. That's a totally separate thing; almost a complete opposite of that in fact."

Naoki visibly ponders, before Naota continues his sentence.

"Don't think about it, I'll explain later. If anything, don't think at all. Let your body do the acting. You'll see what I mean, come on."

Naoki's disgruntled look slowly evaporates as the both of them assume their fighting stances yet again.

They both breathe in.

Then out.

.

.

.

BOOM

Shockwaves spark as they ram against each other. Immediately starting off with a barrage of punches, both of them parry with one hand and strike with the other, playing this brutal game of patty cake. They whimsically dance this joyous tune. No ill will against each other. A physical manifestation of respect. The pace increases every second. The air around them gets thicker, as their sweat evaporates into a dense fog. Faster. FASTER. For every punch Naoki manages to dodge, his face gets berated with four other ones at different angles. Yet, for every punch that makes a clean hit on Naoki's person, the closer the margin between them gets. All he needs is one clean punch.

Naoki throws a combination of punches towards his teacher's face; the teacher responds by casually slipping past them. Though, he's quick to stumble upon a rising problem. For each punch that Naoki dodges, he would get hit four times... and then soon after, dodge, get punched only three times. "(Shit, really?)" thought Naota to himself, wearing an excited smile. Unfortunately, for as tough as the kid is, the amount of hematomas that layered his body for the past couple hours have begun to take a physical toll. His limber, fresh arms started to feel as if they were being held down by sandbags. His lungs felt as if they were minutes away from rupturing. All he can taste, smell, and partially see is blood.

But.

But.

As if that were ever enough to deter him.

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With concentrated vigor, and a body that thinks for its mind, Naoki's body gaslit itself into being unbothered.

The combinations grew faster. Jabs, crosses, hooks, elbows, sidestepping, backtracking, all of it were put into play as they both entered this mental tug of war. Just as the both of them progress in power and speed, Naota throws a wrench in and mixes the flow with a kick. Seeing as how he's faster than Naoki, he knew that he would be able to throw this out; were it Naoki who threw kicks into the mix, he would get his ass knocked down, and they knew this. Just as the roundhouse kick was about to cleave Naoki's head, he leans back and uses that momentum to lean forward and deliver his own mix up: an overhand right. Naota swiftly takes a step back, rendering the attack useless.

...Before Naoki redirects his momentum to switch again into a different attack: a spinning back elbow aimed at Naota's skull.

Within the last millisecond, the teacher manages to grasp the elbow before it hit him. Naoki rips his elbow out of the teacher's grasp, backpedaling a couple steps back.

"Shit, that was close!" comments Naota

"MAN you're annoying to fight 💀" rebuts the student.

"Although.

You are sweating now."

Sen wipes the sweat off his brow.

"That, I am."

They continue striking each other. However, it's hard to say whether the student was on the backfoot at this phase. He hasn't landed a hit yet, sure, however, in this temporary enlightenment, he taps into it. Yes... YES.

No words were needed. Every time Naota's punch grazes his student's skin, the communication was loud and clear.

You feel it now, don't you?

I do, I actually get what you mean now.

Naoki spits blood as his cheek is met with Naota's fist.

Even though I'm still getting hit, I knew it was coming.

Naoki sends his own elbow, mere nanometers away from hitting his teacher's clavicle.

It's as if I'm passively reading blurs of timelines. Reading the intuition of the soul... no... not the soul; the body. The more we fight, the clearer the passages get.

Naoki's eyes glare at his teacher. A unique, bloody smile.

It's as if I can smell your plan. The chemicals and signals in your neurotransmitters...I can smell them. Every twitch fiber and follicle in your being, I see them. A moving painting. A beautiful visage that I must study and adapt to. Like swimming through mud... or a tidal wave. I refuse to get swept up. Sink or swim; I will adapt, and I will swim through this. This body is an algorithm and the more you hit me, the faster I see the hole's in your defense. THAT'S RIGHT. The problems present themselves, and I'll swiftly deduce them. Laid out in these scriptures, it is inevitable.

Just as Noaki throws his 147th uppercut -> hook -> straight combo, they repeat the same interaction from earlier. Naoki blocks Naota's uppercut, leaving Naoki to shoot his hook. The teacher grimaces at his student's mistake, automatically putting his hand up to catch the hook once more.

Oh but that's what I expected. I knew you were going to do that. You WOULD do that wouldn't you?

Naoki returns his hook preemptively, immediately ducking down.

"Huh?"

Naoki cocks his right arm back, with the intent to deliver a strike that encompasses five hours worth of frustration, grit, and joy.

The teacher lowers his guard to his stomach. For a brief moment, he sees a train come after him, and hardens his body to block the force.

...

...

..?

Surprised, Naota looks up from his guard, waiting for the brutish wallop to land on his defense.

Naoki sidesteps to his left.

Awaiting for a punch that would never hit, Naota takes his turn and tries to counter Naoki's attempt at a hook to the stomach.

*bop*

...?

Naoki stands tall, glowing, basking in the sunlight. His bloodied and bruised composition doesn't deter from his accomplishment. Miyamoto spits out a pint of blood, before facing his teacher, snapping his fingers, and pointing at his nose.

"Gotcha."

Sen smells a faint hint of blood.

He looks down and touches his nose.

It's bleeding.

"Huh....

Ha...!

You did it!"

"I know I did."

The teacher walks up to his student and messes his hair up.

"How did you do it?"

"I expected you to block such an obvious punch to the stomach, so I used it as a feint, and instead shot a jab at your nose as you shot your own punch. I only needed to get a hit in, right? So it doesn't matter if it was strong or not."

"Tch-heheheh... you're something else kid. Let's head to the Medic's office for a bit, patch ourselves up, and then go back out here for reaction testing."

"...hey I thought you said we were going to get a break?"

"...the medic's office is the break."

They continue walking towards the school's direction.

"Say Sen, how did you know about that...technique? Mindset? How would you describe that?"

"Well, first of all, let's get that second question out of the way. I guess the closest thing would be an automatic mentality. It's like when sports professionals are in the zone, or whenever a person is in danger. They don't overcomplicate and flood their minds with complex thoughts or plans. They don't think. They simply do. They go with the gut. Now, since we're prone to the spiritual world, this obviously carries itself to an exponential degree. I'm sure you felt something ethereal about it, right?"

"Ooooh trust me, that barely scratches the surface. I've never done drugs before but I'm assuming that's what being high feels like."

"Ehh, kinda. You can thank the chemicals in your body and your brain for that feeling. But it has merit. Not taking drugs no, I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the function. What you just experienced was the flow of combat. You didn't just participate in it, you actively saw it through an altered perspective. You predicted without using your mind. You successfully expected your opponent to do certain movements. It's fighting instinctively. Your body felt like it was-"

"Thinking for my mind, yeah..." cut off Naoki.

"I'm expecting you've experienced this before, right?"

"Well of course. Tapping into it is easier said than done, though. I've been practicing it even before your age, but getting into that mindset is just... you just have to tap into it you know? You can't force it. And even then, you've only had a mere taste of it. It takes years to permanently get into that state of mind, much less being able to use it to a higher degree... but I don't think it's well worth it. Imagine that: being in a permanent state of panic. An innocent kid could drop a pencil and your body would automatically eviscerate them just because your conscious mind was too slow to stop it."

"Panic...Panic...?" responds Naoki.

"But I didn't feel panicky? I felt alive."

"Granted, the example I just explained was a bit of hyperbole, but it still holds some truth to it. That being said, you have a point; and both are true. Your mind would be elated, while your body automatically moves for you, treating everything as a threat."

"So what you're saying is, the mind becomes a slave to the body."

"Yes...and no. Only because I've never met anyone who's managed to get far into training that. So we're just spit-balling theoretical effects here."

"Say...I'm expecting the answer to be yes, but, I'll still ask it anyway. Does anybody else know about this technique?"

"Yes, but not as many as you'd expect. So far it's you, me, and... well seeing as how old Hanayama is, there's no doubt he's at least dabbled in it. I don't doubt a couple of other students or agents from other schools know of it but... it's relatively rare. Even a master of Ki like Django doesn't know it... probably because he's not Buddhist..."

Naoki makes a weirded out face.

"...What does being Buddhist have to do with being able to see the flow of combat?"

"Oh right, that... so you know how we're both Buddhist?"

"...Yeah...?"

"Okay well, there's the three main types of Buddhism: Theravada, Mahayana, and Vajrayana (which is a subsect of Mahayana, but whatever). A long time ago, back when the country was a lot more religious, the Academy's curriculum was also a lot closer to Shintoism and Buddhism. In turn, the Ordinance Academy cultivated the esoteric nature and tantric practices of Vajrayana Buddhism, and modified it for killing rogue sorcerers and evil spirits. Meditations and physical practices were geared towards fighting instead of spirituality. There's still a loose sense of spirituality, sure, but it was a lot less religious in nature and more of an 'essence' type of thing. Monks honed their bodies for hours on end. They would have their peers take turns attacking them while they meditated in complete concentration. Their minds were tuned to a higher frequency. It was inevitable that the students in schools (then monasteries), would dwindle in numbers. But those who survived would've been able to protect their villages far easier."

The two of them eventually walk into the building, nearing the Medic's quarters. Naoki nods at the explanation, before asking his question.

"This sounds really useful. Why don't more people know about it?"

"Because of its extreme nature. We already know that the Ordinance Academy is extreme as is, but our goal isn't to kill kids, its to protect the country. It would be counterintuitive to kill the protectors for the sake of honing stronger sorcerers; especially if there's alternate, safer ways to grant a similar level of power, even if it takes longer. You have to keep in mind that these modified Vajrayana practices are old, dating back hundreds of years. When there's newer practices with fewer risks, you'd expect people to think they're better. Also, there's the stigma of it being associated with religion."

"But you just said that the practice was less religious in nature?"

"Yeah well, if someone is an atheist, I doubt they'd be pleased to practice something that is religious in its roots; modified or otherwise."

"Hmm... but if it's so outdated, then why teach me?"

"Because Naoki, I find value in the old, just as I find value in the new. I see what works, and I teach it. It may be situational, but I believe it's a handy tool that you can have in your arsenal. The only reason I knew you'd be able to tap into it without the risk of you dying is because you're tough. I know you are. I wouldn't kick your ass for the entire morning if I knew you wouldn't be able to handle it."

Naoki looks away and blushes.

The teacher continues, "also, because we are lucky to have modern medicine on our side."

They arrive at the door of the Medical office. The teacher knocks on the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Behind the faded screen of the dimly lit medic's office, the silhouette of a large bulky blob is seen. Upon hearing the knocks, it turns around, and shrinks in size, eventually taking the shape of a woman. The figure walks over to the door and opens it. There, stands a 5'7" tall woman with green, moss-like hair and purple tired eyes. She's wearing a typical lab coat as well as ripped jeans and a teal collared shirt. She looks up and down at Naoki and Naota.

"..."

"Hello Miss Gretchen, we would like to get healed please," says the teacher in a polite tone.

She examines the bloody student. At a quick glance, she takes several mental notes: at least a rib or two fractured, several hematomas covering the body, muscles that have stopped working due to said hematomas, no doubt a heavy amount of blood loss, and... a rearranged face.

She then looks at Naota and his condition: a bloody nose and some minor scrapes on his arms.

"...

You, Naoki, take off your clothes and enter the pod over there," says Gretchen, pointing towards the corner of the room. An odd glowing bulbous pod sits there. It could be described as anything but metallic. Green slime oozes out of the pod's top.

"Ugh, I hate this part..."

"It'll only last a few minutes. Hold your breath and then come back out. There's towels near the back after you're done."

Naota waits patiently for his instructions.

...

"And... Do I wait or...?"

"No. No you don't."

"...

So what treatment do I get?"

"Nothing," says Gretchen, crossing her arms while leaning back against a table.

"...

not even a band-aid?"

"Oh quit crying, you're fine."

From the corner, Naoki pops his head out of the pod and shouts "hey Miss Gretchen, am I fine now?"

Seeing that his face is still misshapen, she walks over to the side of the pod and opens up a hatch.

"Dunk your head back in; please hold it for as long as possible, ok?"

"Fiiiiiiiiiine"

He does so.

Gretchen looks at Naota.

"...could you please turn away..."

"Oh, of course."

As Naota turns away, he could hear the unpleasant sounds of thick liquid spewing and splashing about. The rich smell of oil and mold permeates the room.

Naoki pops his torso back out of the pod, good as new; handsome as ever.

"Thanks Miss Gretchen, I actually physically feel alive now" says Naoki.

Gretchen, kneeling over, panting, responds "yeah... *huff* ... anytime kid..."

"Alright Naota, now lets get back to training!" shoots Naoki with a thumbs up.

"With an irked expression, Gretchen immediately shouts.

"...dude?"

.

.

Several hours later, Naota and Naoki are back out on the field. Naota holds a baseball bat, while an ominous intestine ring floats in front of him. Naoki, several meters away, concentrates on his teacher.

"Remember Naoki, this ring right here amplifies the speed of what I pitch by ten times. I'm not holding back so, either dodge, block (but don't, actually), deflect, or-"

"Dude this is like your third time you're telling me this. Just pitch the damn ball."

"I know, I'm just... you know... I can't stress enough how much you need to concentrate on-"

"Naota."

Naoki smiles at his teacher.

"I'm fine."

"...

Hm."

Naota points at Naoki with his bat, then readies his batting position. In his left hand, he throws a baseball up high in the air. The very second it lands in front of Naota, he sends the ball flying through the ring.

Naoki concentrates on the ball beaming towards him. He readies his fist, planning to punch the ball as a means of deflection.

"(Steady...steady...steady...

...)"

"Nah."

Naoki instead ducks down, dodging the ball.

"You dodged it. Did you mean to?"

"No... I was planning on deflecting it but I already know deep down that I'm not ready for that type of speed yet."

"...but you dodged it...?"

"And that's cool... I guess. But if I tried to deflect it, the right side of my body would've been obliterated at LEAST. Besides, if I can't dodge something with so much wind up time, then I'd be the literal worst at the school 💀 Also... how come the technique from earlier didn't work? When I was seeing the flow of combat, it felt like I was in slow motion, or I was already performing actions that were three steps ahead of my brain. How come it fails now?"

"Well first off, are we fighting?"

"Not...really?"

"Well there you go. Second of all, it's just your first day using it, calm down. Just because you used it once doesn't mean you're the master of it."

Miyamoto kicks the dirt and grumbles "I knew that..." under his breath.

"And finally, the most important part about the flow is that its automatic. You can't force it. You just simply go limp, and whatever the body can react to, the body does automatically. Mixing it together with various techniques is a task that's going to take months to master, but in due time, it will all become second hand nature. As long as you don't depend on it too much that is. Calling it 'master' over the flow is almost an oxymoron-"

"because the body takes control over you?"

"Exactly!"

"Damn that's... cliche'd..."

"Tch, you watch a lot of movies then, kid."

Naoki scoffs and then ponders aloud.

"Say, Naota, why don't you use your real ability on me?"

"HOHOHO, getting cocky are we?"

"Kinda yeah, but it just makes me wonder how far the gap between us is."

"I will say, it's not as big as you think it is...

That being said, it's still pretty damn big."

"Dude 💀

So none of our training sessions have been with you at your fullest strength?"

"What? No. Of course not. If I trained with all of my strength you would've been dead. You be paste on the ground. And this isn't me rubbing my strength in to demoralize you. I'm not like Taberu; I don't feel anything from securing my ego or proving pointless shit to people I don't care about. I'm just telling you the truth. Of course, I'm not babysitting you either. These past few years can attest to that."

"(Shiet, I could attest to that this morning...)" thought Naoki with an annoyed face.

"As of right now, I'm sorry, but we are nowhere near close in strength.

...but.

If the me that was 16 years old were to fight you right now... I'm not so sure if I would win."

Naoki looks up at his teacher and grins.

"Now come on, you have a ball to catch."

Naokis smirks, before having a neutral face again.

"Now... I know that; I knew all of that, frankly. But... you've never shown me your real strength; your real technique."

Naota does a softly chuckles.

"What do you mean? I have it right here. Are you blind?"

Naoki looks at the ground and gently smiles.

"You're a good guy Naota, I know you are.

That's why it's so easy to know when you're lying."

They both stop smiling.

.

.

.

Finally, night time at the Academy.

11 PM

Miyamoto sits on his chair, playing a fighting game. He ponders about what Naota said to him earlier that day, during dinner time.

``Naoki.`` calls out a telepathic harrowing cold voice.

"Ah shit, do I really have to do a mission now?"

"(Yeah what's up)" responds Naoki telepathically.

``There is an urgent mission in Osaka that needs your assistance.``

"WHAT? Osaka? That's like... not that far but still annoyingly far..."

"(Don't they have a school or... at least a station over there at Osaka?)"

Naoki opens his bottle of soda and begins drinking it.

``They are either unavailable or are waiting on standby for a bigger threat to come by.``

"(And what's that got to do with me?)"

``The person requesting your assistance deems you as a perfect candidate for such a weak opponent``

PPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTT-

Naoki spits soda all over his computer monitor upon hearing the news.

"Well; that's one way to hurt my ego 💀"

"(What's the mission?)"

``They have tasked you with taking down a recently transformed evil sorcerer.

You must hunt down the cockroach by the name of Kenji Yamada.``