The first day of official training began, and I stood with the others, feeling the weight of anticipation settle over us. Asahi paced in front of us, his sharp yellow eye scanning each of us like he could see every weakness we tried to hide. His voice cut through the silence like a blade.
"Before we start," he said, "there's something you all need to understand. Every Elite Council member has a specific martial art—or sometimes multiple—that they use. Part of your training will involve learning these martial arts. But just learning them won't be enough." He paused, his gaze locking onto mine for a moment before moving on. "You'll need to make them your own. Shape them, modify them, and create something unique. Because if you ever reach the level of the Council, your fighting style should reflect who you are. It should be something only you can teach."
I exchanged a glance with Heesung, who stood beside me, his jaw set and serious. Xavier looked more excited than anything, already fidgeting like he couldn't wait to get started. Cherry and Kaito seemed focused but calm, though I could tell even they were a little anxious.
Asahi's voice pulled me back. "The style I'll be teaching you is a blend of Taekwondo and boxing, but with a twist. It's not just about hitting hard or moving fast—it's dynamic, fluid, and adaptable. It incorporates weapons, and, if absolutely necessary, your abilities. But that's a last resort. The focus is on you, your body, and your discipline."
I felt my stomach twist. This wasn't going to be easy—I'd known that from the start. But the way Asahi explained it, this was on a whole new level.
"And it's not just about fighting," he continued, his tone softer but no less commanding. "I've created customized workout programs for each of you. These programs will target your strengths and weaknesses. They'll push you past your limits and build you into something stronger. Consider them your foundation. Without it, the rest of your training will crumble."
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The first day of training had been a test of nerves, but what followed over the next two years was a relentless grind that pushed all of us to our limits—and then well beyond them. Asahi hadn't been lying when he said he was a harsh trainer. His eye for weakness was uncanny, and he exploited every flaw he found, forcing us to address them head-on. It wasn't cruelty, though—it was his way of ensuring we'd survive. If you didn't want to rise to the challenge, you didn't belong under his wing.
Every morning began before sunrise. Asahi would meet us in the training hall, where we started with the personalized workout routines he'd designed. Mine targeted my agility and stamina, forcing me to build my endurance to a level I didn't think was possible. Weighted sprints, reflex drills, and precision exercises were my daily reality. Some days, I felt like collapsing by mid-morning, but Asahi never let me quit.
"Pain means growth," he'd say. "If it doesn't hurt, you're not pushing hard enough."
The afternoons were for combat training. Learning Asahi's martial art wasn't just about memorizing moves—it was about understanding how to think and move in a fight. The blend of Taekwondo and boxing demanded balance, rhythm, and precision, and when he added weapons to the mix, it became an entirely new challenge.
For me, the knives and katana felt natural in my hands, but Asahi wasn't satisfied with "natural." He pushed me to use my abilities in subtle ways, finding a balance between enhancing my attacks and conserving my energy. By the end of the first year, I'd developed a unique style that felt like an extension of myself—quick, sharp, and deadly.
Evenings were spent sparring. It wasn't just about practicing what we'd learned; it was about adapting to different opponents. I'd sparred against everyone in our group more times than I could count. Heesung's power and strategy always kept me on my toes, Xavier's speed and unpredictability forced me to think faster, and Cherry's precision made every move feel like a chess game. Kaito, though, was the toughest. His raw strength and endurance made every match a battle of attrition. Each sparring session left me battered, bruised, and somehow even more determined.
Graduation Day
The day we graduated to High Elites felt surreal. Asahi gathered us in the same training hall where we'd started two years ago. I looked around at the others, taking in how much we'd all changed. Heesung stood taller, his frame more muscular and imposing than ever. Xavier had grown into his speed, moving with a confidence that made it clear he could strike before anyone even saw him coming. Cherry's calm, methodical demeanor had only sharpened, and Kaito—well, Kaito had somehow gotten even stronger.
And then there was me. I could feel the difference in myself. I wasn't the scared, unsure girl who had walked into this hall two years ago. I'd worked for every inch of progress I'd made, and I wasn't going to let anyone take that away from me.
Asahi stood before us, his arms crossed and his usual stern expression in place. But there was something softer in his eye as he spoke.
"I don't hand out praise easily," he began. "You've all heard that before. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't proud of how far you've come. You've proven yourselves capable, disciplined, and adaptable. You've earned this."
He handed each of us a patch signifying our promotion to High Elites. Holding it in my hands felt like holding proof of everything I'd endured, every challenge I'd overcome. My chest swelled with pride, and I caught a small, rare smile from Asahi.
"You're not done yet," he said, breaking the moment. "High Elites is a whole new level. If you thought I was tough before, you're in for a wake-up call. But for now, take a moment to appreciate how far you've come. You've earned it."
A New Face
Asahi's words stayed with me as we left the hall. My muscles ached, my mind was tired, but I couldn't wipe the grin off my face. We'd done it. The others seemed to feel the same. Heesung ruffled my hair like he always did, Xavier laughed and made some dumb joke, and Cherry gave me one of her rare, warm smiles.
As we walked into the common area, I noticed a figure standing off to the side, and my breath caught. She was beautiful—stunning, really. Her dark skin glowed in the dim light, and her thick, curly brown hair framed her face perfectly. But it was her eyes that stood out the most—fierce, hot pink, and practically luminous.
She was with the beautiful blonde Elite Council member, the one I still didn't know the name of. It didn't take long to realize she'd been promoted along with us—one of the only others to graduate after two years.
I couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity—and maybe a little intimidation. She looked like she belonged here, like she'd never doubted herself a day in her life. I wondered what her story was, and if I'd get the chance to find out. For now, though, I pushed the thought aside. There was plenty of time for introductions.
This was just the beginning.