As the crowd slowly dispersed and the adrenaline of the match faded, Zik found himself leaning heavily on Aiden and Tobias, his arms slung over their shoulders for support. Every step was a battle against the dull ache radiating through his body, his exhaustion a reminder of just how much the fight had taken out of him. But despite the pain, a faint grin lingered on his face.
"You know," Aiden said, his voice tinged with pride, "I'm pretty sure they'll be talking about that fight for weeks. You looked like a beast out there, Zik."
"More like a battered beast," Tobias added with a smirk, his claws supporting Zik's weight on one side. "But yeah, that was impressive."
"Thanks, guys," Zik muttered weakly, his eyes half-lidded. "But next time, maybe remind me to dodge more. I think half my ribs are still in the arena."
Aiden laughed. "Noted. But hey, it was worth it, right?"
Zik didn't answer, his grin widening. Despite the pain, it really did feel worth it.
---
When they reached the infirmary, the bright, sterile lights made Zik squint. The nurse was already busy attending to another student when the three walked in. She glanced over her shoulder, then sighed in mock exasperation.
"Another one? You kids treat these tournaments like it's a gladiator pit," she muttered, gesturing to an empty cot. "Put him down over there, and I'll be with him in a minute."
Aiden and Tobias helped Zik onto the cot, lowering him carefully. Zik winced but didn't complain, leaning back and letting the soft mattress take some of the weight off his battered body.
As they straightened up, they noticed someone else waiting in the room—a man in his mid-thirties with sharp features, dressed in a neatly pressed suit. He stood with his arms crossed, his eyes focused on Tobias like a hawk studying its prey.
"Oh great," Tobias muttered under his breath, recognizing the man immediately.
"Who's this?" Aiden asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Mr. Reyes," Tobias replied, his tone flat. "The guy the principal assigned to help with my 'PR problem.'"
Reyes stepped forward, his expression neutral but his tone laced with a hint of irritation. "It's not a 'problem,' Tobias. It's a necessity. If you're going to keep competing and representing this school, we need to work on your image. You've seen the way people look at you."
Tobias shrugged, his scaled shoulders moving effortlessly. "Yeah, I've seen it. Doesn't bother me."
"It should," Reyes said sharply, his eyes narrowing. "Your abilities are incredible, Tobias, but they terrify people. And unless you want to be labeled as the villain everyone assumes you are, we need to change that perception. Starting with your next match."
---
Aiden crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. "You're telling him to care what people think? That's kind of shallow, don't you think?"
Reyes turned to Aiden, his gaze cold but calm. "I'm telling him to show people that there's more to him than scales and poison clouds. You don't build trust by scaring people into silence. You build it by showing them you're more than their fears."
Tobias sighed, running a clawed hand over his face. "Alright, fine. What do you want me to do?"
Reyes relaxed slightly, though his tone remained firm. "For starters, in your next match, don't use your abilities in a way that looks… monstrous. No poison fogs, no clawing your opponents like they're prey. Focus on defense and restraint. Show them you're in control."
Tobias raised an eyebrow. "You do realize nobody has the guts to fight me now, right? I overheard my next opponent is already thinking about quitting."
Reyes pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Of course they are. Leave that to me—I'll make sure someone shows up. You just worry about presenting yourself the way we talked about."
---
Zik, who had been listening quietly from the cot, chuckled weakly. "You've got your work cut out for you, Reyes. Tobias isn't exactly a 'smile and wave' kind of guy."
Reyes glanced at Zik, his expression softening slightly. "I'm aware. But if he wants to stay in this tournament—and in this school—he'll need to start somewhere."
Tobias crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. "Alright, fine. I'll try. But I'm not promising anything. If someone comes at me with everything they've got, I'm not going to just stand there and look pretty."
Reyes gave him a small, approving nod. "That's fair. But try to remember—restraint is key. Show them you're better than their assumptions. You've got the power to change how they see you, Tobias. Use it wisely."
---
As Reyes stepped back to give them space, Zik looked over at Tobias, grinning despite his exhaustion. "You know, I'm starting to think you're the real underdog here. People don't know what to make of you, but they're about to find out."
Tobias smirked, his reptilian eyes glinting faintly in the light. "Yeah, well… let's just hope they like what they see."
Aiden clapped him on the back, his usual grin returning. "Don't worry, man. You've got this. And if anyone doesn't like it, that's their problem."
Zik leaned back, closing his eyes and letting the tension in his body melt away. Despite everything, he felt a strange sense of pride—not just in himself, but in his friends. They were all fighting their own battles, in and out of the ring.
And for once, it felt like they were winning.
Mr. Reyes walked briskly through the corridors, a folder tucked under his arm. The sound of his polished shoes echoed in the nearly empty halls as he made his way to the gym, where Tobias's next opponent was supposed to be training—or more likely, contemplating whether or not to drop out of the tournament.
He didn't blame the poor kid. After Tobias's match with Caleb, the atmosphere around the school had shifted. Tobias wasn't just seen as a competitor anymore—he was a walking storm, a symbol of raw, untamed power that few dared to face. It didn't help that whispers of his S-grade abilities had started circulating, amplifying the fear.
But fear was predictable, and Reyes had learned over the years that the best way to counter it was with something even more terrifying.
---
The gym doors creaked as Reyes pushed them open, spotting a wiry boy pacing nervously near the punching bags. His name was Liam, a sophomore with a slightly awkward gait and a mop of brown hair that looked like it hadn't seen a comb in weeks.
"Liam," Reyes called, his voice sharp and commanding.
The boy jumped, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Y-Yes, Mr. Reyes?"
Reyes approached, opening the folder and flipping through its contents. "I see you've been thinking about withdrawing from the tournament."
Liam swallowed hard, his face pale. "I-I mean, it's Tobias, sir. You saw what he did to Caleb. I don't… I don't stand a chance against him."
Reyes snapped the folder shut with a decisive motion, his piercing gaze locking onto Liam. "Do you know what's scarier than losing to Tobias?"
Liam blinked, his confusion evident. "What?"
"Your parents," Reyes said flatly, holding up the boy's academic report like it was evidence in a court case. "Your grades are a disaster. History, math, biology—all barely passing. And look at this!" He jabbed a finger at the report. "You failed your physics midterm. Failed, Liam."
Liam's face turned red, his shoulders hunching as if he could shrink away from Reyes's words.
"You think Tobias is scary?" Reyes continued, his voice growing colder. "What do you think your parents will say when they see this?"
Liam opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out.
Reyes leaned closer, his tone softening slightly but still firm. "Let me tell you what's going to happen. If you withdraw from this match, you'll not only lose the chance to gain extra credit, but you'll also confirm every fear your parents have about you wasting your potential. Do you want that hanging over your head?"
"I… I don't," Liam mumbled, his voice barely audible.
"Good," Reyes said, straightening up. "Because you're going to go into that ring, and you're going to fight Tobias. And you're going to give it everything you've got, no matter how scared you are. Do you understand me?"
Liam hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Yes, sir."
"Good," Reyes said again, handing him the folder. "Now take this home and study. The tournament isn't just about your grades—it's about showing people, including yourself, that you're stronger than your fears."
Liam clutched the folder tightly, his hands trembling slightly. "What if I lose?"
Reyes smirked faintly. "Losing isn't the worst thing that can happen, Liam. Quitting is."
---
As Reyes left the gym, his mind was already racing with strategies to spin the upcoming match in Tobias's favor. Liam would fight because he had to, and Tobias would face him because he needed to show restraint and control.
The stage was set. Now all that remained was to see how the players performed.
The gym buzzed with the hum of excitement, the energy of the crowd pulsating through the walls. Aiden stood near the ring, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, his arms crossed. To anyone watching, he looked calm, confident—untouchable. But inside, a different storm brewed.
He glanced at Zik and Tobias standing nearby, their presence grounding him in a way he didn't fully understand. Tobias, quiet and composed, always carried himself like he didn't care what anyone thought. He could walk into a room full of whispers and judgment, covered in scales, and never flinch. And Zik? Zik was like a flame that never dimmed, spouting his ridiculous hero codes with all the earnestness in the world, never caring how cheesy or cringe-worthy they sounded.
Aiden envied them both.
It wasn't that he lacked confidence. He was confident. Fast, strong, adaptable—he knew what he could do. But what he didn't know, what he'd never figured out, was how to break free of the mask he wore every single day. The grin, the jokes, the cocky swagger—it wasn't fake, but it wasn't the whole picture either.
Deep down, Aiden wanted more. He wanted to be free.
---
"Hey, you're awfully quiet," Zik said, nudging him with his elbow.
"Just focusing," Aiden replied, flashing him an easy grin. "Gotta make sure I don't embarrass you guys by losing out there."
Tobias snorted, leaning back against the wall. "If you lose, I'll start selling popcorn at your matches. Might as well make some money off the spectacle."
Aiden chuckled, the sound smooth and natural, even though his chest felt tight. "Good to know I have your support," he said, shaking his head.
He looked at the ring, the ropes glinting faintly under the fluorescent lights. His opponent was already waiting, a fire manipulator who looked more like a wrestler than a student. Flames flickered at his knuckles as he paced, his confidence practically radiating off him.
Aiden clenched his fists, the rubbery flexibility of his fingers reminding him of his own strengths. This wasn't about the fight. He could handle that. It was about what came after.
---
Why do I always hold back? The thought slipped into his mind, uninvited but persistent.
It wasn't his abilities. He had no problem pushing them to their limits in the heat of battle. No, the thing he held back wasn't physical—it was his dreams.
He thought about Zik, who would spout his hero codes at anyone who would listen, no matter how many people rolled their eyes or called him childish. Zik didn't care. He dreamed out loud, and he didn't apologize for it.
And Tobias, with his overwhelming strength and quiet resilience—he didn't just carry his abilities; he carried the weight of what people thought of him, and he still walked tall.
But Aiden? He never let himself be that vulnerable. He never let himself say what he really wanted, not even to his closest friends.
What if they think it's stupid? What if they laugh?
Aiden swallowed hard, his fingers flexing at his sides. For as long as he could remember, he'd felt the need to be the cool one, the guy who had it all together. Admitting he had a dream—especially a big, ridiculous dream—felt like stripping himself bare.
---
"You good, man?" Zik asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.
"Yeah," Aiden said automatically, but his voice faltered slightly. He glanced at Zik, then Tobias, then back at the ring.
He took a deep breath, the storm inside him swirling faster. I want to say it. I want to stop hiding.
But the words stuck in his throat.
---
The announcer called his name, and Aiden stepped forward, his heart pounding. His opponent was already in the ring, flames crackling faintly in the air around him. The crowd cheered, their energy electric, but Aiden barely heard them.
As he climbed into the ring, the thought hit him like a punch to the gut: I want to be the number one hero.
It wasn't logical. It wasn't practical. It was a dream—a big, messy, impossible dream. But it was his dream, and for the first time, he let himself feel it fully.
He wanted to be more than fast or strong or versatile. He wanted to be someone who inspired people, who stood at the top and made them believe that even the craziest dreams were worth chasing.
But I can't do that if I keep hiding.
---
As the referee stepped into the ring and began the countdown, Aiden clenched his fists, his knuckles stretching slightly with the tension.
"Hey," Tobias called from the sidelines, his voice calm but firm. "Don't overthink it. Just fight."
Zik grinned. "Yeah, and try not to show off too much. Leave some spotlight for the rest of us."
Aiden smiled, the storm in his chest quieting slightly. He looked at his friends, the two people who always seemed to know how to ground him, and then back at his opponent.
One day, he thought, I'll say it out loud. I'll tell them what I really want. But for now… I'll show them.
The bell rang, and Aiden moved. Like lightning, like wind, like someone who wasn't just fighting an opponent—he was fighting to become the person he wanted to be.