Vin slept for 13 uninterrupted hours. Even after, he'd only awaken because his phone began to ting. He groggily tossed it away from his person, then carried his banged-up body to the bath.
Though still tired, A warm shower realigned his mind. Miyo joined him, though unnecessarily. After washing off, he stepped out of the tub and stood in front of the bathroom window.
Wet, his black hair slumped down over his brow. His bare brown skin glistened underneath the overhead white light of the bathroom, and he eyed his inked-out arms.
The tattoos always made him reflect on his dreams, mostly his family and their surreal affection for him. It made him miserable thinking about how cruel reality was, remembering that the three members of his household were out there somewhere without him.
Vin sighed, rubbed his weary eyes, and mumbled, "I miss it. Skating all we wanted, then going home to our family and eating Macy's cooking."
Even though he couldn't taste anything in his extended dream, he cherished those moments. So much so that he selected culinary as a school elective; that way, he could cook for Macy if they met-
'When' they met again. Which they surely would... They had to; they were blood.
Vin concluded his contemplation, then drug his naked body back to the living room and drew the curtains over the large balcony window.
From the dormitory's fourth floor, he could see the surge of outfitted students flooding from the building. The morning sun had climbed above the horizon, and he was met with a brisk wind when he opened the windows.
Vin's skin break-danced, and he quickly shut the opening while shuddering. "M-Miyo, could you warm the place up a bit?"
The Phoenix unfurled its wings then its round body unstabilized as flames flared inches from its core. Vin searched for his discarded phone, then sat by the impromptu heater.
There, he identified the cause for the earlier alarm. It was a mass alert sent out to every student enrolled at the university. The notification specified the time and location of the opening ceremony and urged all to attend.
Informed, Vin closed the directive, then checked more of his missed notices. Among them, he saw the results of the race he participated in.
Faction Battle: 01/12
----------------------------------------
Dragons VS Lions
Adele, Crow, Jessie, Tony, Vin
VS
Fray, Juicy, Mickey, Tomlin, Zach
----------------------------------------
Winner: Dragon Faction
1st Place: Vin
There was a link attached to the page that led to a public obituary. Well, it just named all the recently eliminated racers, but most students thought of it as a death ledger.
The three racers zeroed in yesterday's race were near the top, but dozens more expired that night. It was wild that people were being sent to the shadow realm so quickly before the semester even started.
What was more enticing was the extra digit on his financial balance. The total prize pool from the race he won was 16,660 and divided among the five on his team, he took home 3,332 points.
My Profile
----------------------------------------
Name: Vin Dance
Age: 18
Points: 3,890
Faction: Dragon
Faction Rank(Skate): 640 / 701
Overall Rank(Skate): 1811 / 2001
Wins: 1 / Losses: 0
From unranked to 1811th overall, Vin learned that the system accounted for opponents' skill levels. Since he defeated a ranker(A racer in the top 40), his placement jumped quite a bit. It was a good start, but he knew he had a long way to go before becoming as reputable as his father.
Vin had two hours until the gathering, so he began preparing early. He equipped his underwear, then carried his dirtied uniform to a laundry room on the same floor.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Since he was barely dressed, he couldn't venture out while the load washed. Then, there was the matter of presentability. Vin had never used, let alone owned, a clothing iron. So he'd be using his little free time to make another purchase.
That meant no time to sit for breakfast. So, when his laundry finished, he put on his wrinkled uniform and went shopping in his Factions zone for a hot iron and extra clothing.
He finished quickly, picked up a breakfast bar, then returned to iron his clothes. He put on his blazer and stowed Miyo into his shirt so they'd both be warmed.
After everything, Vin had to hustle to the ceremony site on his longboard. Little to no other people were out, indicating he was well behind schedule. He eventually pulled up to an extensive, rounded, three-story building with two enormous, closed doors.
Two guards in white collared shirts checked his digital ID at the entrance, then allowed him admission.
There were circular rows of black leather seats, dimmed lighting, and a limelight on centerstage. Vin waltzed in while the chosen student council president gave their speech about- who cares. He never gave two rocks about student authority. While ignoring everything they said, he blatantly roamed to the first empty seat he saw.
Most of the first-floor seats were filled, yet one amidst clusters of students was free. He presumed someone ran out for whatever reason, maybe to use the restroom.
"Move it; you lose it."
He shuffled and trudged past a line of sitting students to arrive at the center of the row where his lucky seat lay in wait.
As he approached, he noticed two spots available. One on each side of a single male. Vin decided to take the right side and lazily planted himself.
The moment he sat, the speaker on stage terminated his speech, and Vin felt vicious gazes shift toward him. He leaned back, glanced around at the faces directed toward him, then sounded, "hmmm?"
An individual in the row behind him gripped the back of his neck and savagely squeezed. Vin winced from the intense pressure and emitted a reticent grunt.
From behind, he heard a male utter, "you're gutsy for sitting there, Lizard."
The sudden, unprompted aggression only added to Vin's bitterness pertaining to the university and its unlikeable students. He scowled, reached around his back, and grabbed the hand that silently clenched him.
"Ya know," he mumbled. "I'm getting real sick of everyone thinking they can treat me however they want."
His anger was discerned by his little guardian and a heat scaled from Miyo at his center chest. A flame wrapped around Vin's back toward the intrusive hand before burning the aggressor, who groaned and jolted.
Vin stood, aimed his sharp lavender eyes at the male student behind him, and insisted they get up and test his nerves again.
While standing, Vin noticed that every person in that zone wore the same color necktie or ribbon. They were all members of the Lion faction and noticeably pissed.
Vin's assailant rose to his challenge, and so did the rest. Up front, to his left and right, dozens of bodies stood to confront him. A lot, but not nearly enough to intimidate him. Since he didn't have a wooden sword, his skateboard would have to operate as his weapon for the skirmish.
"Gentlemen," uttered the male sitting placidly next to him. "Please, have a seat."
Upon his remark, the crowd of Lions subdued and returned to their chairs. Only one student found conflict with the male's directive and contested it by arguing that Dragons should not be allowed in their presence.
Annoyed, Vin pivoted toward the assumed authority of the group. A late teenage male with light olive skin, a soft yet masculine jawline, and artificial golden irises. They had neck-length golden hair that parted on one side of their face and dispersed on the other.
"It's fine," they gaily voiced, facing the paused stage as if the conflict didn't deserve his full attention. "We can't expect new students to understand the school's structure."
The tension didn't cease, but there was no back talk. Vin peered at the crowd that'd resorted to quietly stabbing him with their glares, then at the golden male who began to fan his shirt with a sustained smile.
That was it. The haughty, unfazed aura of a Lion that Crow and his crew attested to hating so much. Vin found the man's belligerent poise unenjoyable, so he quelled and reconnected with his chair.
The Student president on stage, aka the image of professionalism, didn't continue his oration. Nope, he persistently peered into the audience where Vin had settled. Also fitted with a yellow tie, he was off on his own planet.
Eventually, Jane, the honorable principal, took over the ceremony. Just as quirky as Vin remembered, she walked out carrying her lion cub in a baby carrier. It was strapped to her chest, fiddling with her wavy, reddish-orange hair.
She repeated a lot of the information he'd already heard. Blah, blah, graduate to be guaranteed a promising career. Blah, rich and famous.
But, instead of having a segment to explain candidates, she recognized the current Kings and Queens. She called for the Dragon Icon to help, a man named Ito Nibui, but was met with silence.
After a second, she tilted her head leftward and pressed her finger to her ear. "I've just been informed that he canceled... And the Shark Principal is still MIA, so it'll just be me, your beautiful hostess."
While he'd never followed them, the name she mentioned sounded familiar. Ito Nibui, nicknamed 'The Reaper,' an iconic figure in the battleground sport.
Seven years ago, Vin remembered his action figure was popular among his classmates. They wore black hoodies and ran around the class pretending to swing death scythes at each other as if they were reapers.
Ito Nibui and Jane were both Icons in SFX fighting, so Vin assumed the missing person was also among their generation. It was also new to him that Jane was only one of three university principals.
Since it was just her on stage, she first recognized those who were a part of the Lion faction. "Naturally, as a fellow battleground competitor, we'll begin with the Lion King of mixed martial arts. Nicknamed the God of Tactic, please give it up for St. Giles Sincere."
A man stood several dozen seats away, and uproar ensued within the immediate area of yellow-clothed students. A millisecond later, three huge hologram displays enabled and showed the student on big screens for all to praise or scorn.
Jane resumed, adjusting her tone slightly to sound less like a child at play. "Next, the man that backpacked our faction to the number one in skate, the Golden King, Castiel."
Following a subtle motion at his side, Vin turned and was slapped with a spotlight. He sheathed his eyes while they adjusted, looking upward at a dazzling, almost royal figure.
From the announcement, Vin only knew they were being recognized as a great skater. Someone closer to his dream than himself.
The beam made it challenging to view him entirely, but as Vin squinted at the man, he thought to himself- out loud, "I wanna race."
Though unintentional, the words fled his jaws, and the kingly student, live on display, chuckled. He discontinued his tall and gallant pose, diverted from the stage, and gazed cheerily not at but through Vin. As if he was transparent. "Sure, I'll race you."
Outrage festered as the student known as Castiel was robbed of his dedicated moment of praise. By Vin, an unknown skater that shared the same screen space as a king.
As it so happens, those two empty seats were preemptive of that moment, so randoms wouldn't be captured near the honored student. So that all in attendance and viewing online wouldn't have to wonder why a Dragon was next to the Lion king of skate.
Amid the commotion, a man ran onstage and handed a tablet to Jane, who beamed. "What a surprise," she said. "Gavin Dance Jr, son of Gavin Dance, world-renowned skater, has just challenged Castiel."
Precisely the type of headline that marketing hoped to create by inviting celebrity figures to Season's University. One that was sure to generate many views.
It wasn't what Vin wanted. He'd hoped to grow in influence naturally through grit alone. Unfortunately, he was being broadcasted as a nobody, just someone's son.
The situation escalated ridiculously. That crazy coot of a principal paused the ceremony and led the camera crew outside the hall. It didn't take long before Vin surfed the flow of events and ended up at a race's starting line.