Chapter 7: An Invitation from the Dragon's Den

I go home and just... stare at the ceiling.

My shoulder aches. My ribs ache. My pride... well, that's pretty much shattered.

She took me down. Ayako Katsumi, the girl who gets love letters every day, pinned me like I was a child. I didn't even see it happen.

I'm out of my league. I am so, so far out of my league it's not even funny.

I should be scared. I should be smart. I should just... stop. Forget all of it. Go back to being the problem kid who sits next to the perfect president and pretend none of it ever happened.

But I can't.

Because for the first time in my life, I'm not just angry. I'm not just picking fights with idiots.

I'm... hooked. I'm intrigued.

This isn't a bully. This isn't a teacher. This is a challenge. This is a real-life, high-level mystery.

And I'm not going to back down.

I'm icing my shoulder when my phone buzzes on the nightstand. It's late, almost midnight.

I grab it. An unknown number.

It's a text message.

This is Katsumi. I trust you have not shared my contact information with anyone.

My heart practically jumps into my throat. I sit up, my whole body tingling.

How did you get my number? I text back, my thumbs fumbling.

The reply is instant.

I am the Student Council President. I have access to all student files.

Of course she does. God, that's terrifying.

What do you want? I type. Gonna have your 'security' come finish me off?

I'm trying to sound tough, but my hands are shaking.

Your technique is appalling. You rely on instinct, anger, and brute force. It's pathetic.

I actually scoff out loud. "Wow. Thanks."

If you insist on getting into fights, you might as well learn to do it properly. Wasting your potential is... inefficient.

I stare at the message. Wasting my... potential? What is she talking about?

A new message comes in. It's a location pin.

I tap it. It opens a map to an old, abandoned-looking dojo on the industrial outskirts of town. A place I've never even heard of.

The next text follows immediately.

Saturday. 6 AM. Don't be late.

I'm just... frozen. I'm reading and re-reading the text.

Is she... is she offering to train me?

After she slammed my face into a table?

Why? I text back. It's the only word I can think of.

The three little dots appear. She's typing.

Because you're a problem, Minatawa-kun. A loud, messy, inefficient problem.

And I intend to solve you.

I... I don't even know how to respond to that.

The next day at school is Friday. It's torture.

The tension between us is so thick, I'm surprised the air doesn't catch on fire. I'm staring at her, and I know she knows I'm staring at her. But she's the perfect president. She answers questions, she takes notes, she ignores the love-cries from the gate.

But I can see it. The way her pen is held just a little too tight. The stillness in her shoulders.

She's aware of me. Just as aware as I am of her.

The final bell rings. Everyone starts packing up.

I lean over, my voice a bare whisper.

"Saturday. 6 AM. You're serious?"

She's meticulously placing her books into her bag, not looking at me.

"I am never not serious, Minatawa-kun."

She zips her bag, stands up, and slings it over her shoulder. She pauses, and I think she's just going to leave.

Then, she leans down, just slightly, so her whisper is only for me.

"And... bring a towel. And a change of clothes."

She looks at me, her dark eyes unreadable.

"You'll need them."

Then she's gone.

I'm left alone at my desk, my heart hammering like a drum.

Is this a trap? Is she going to have her whole goon squad waiting for me in that abandoned building?

...I don't care.

I have to go.

I've just been invited into the tiger's den. And I'm going to walk right in.