Morning came too quickly, and my body groaned in protest as I made my way back to the foundry. The aches from yesterday's sparring clung to me like a second skin, and I couldn't help but wonder if Lawrence had secretly enjoyed watching me flail around.
When I stepped into the cold, shadowy space, he was already there, waiting in the cleared section of concrete. His stance was casual, but the sharpness in his eyes made it clear he had plans to push me harder today.
"Punctual," Lawrence remarked, crossing his arms. "Maybe you can be taught after all."
"Don't get used to it," I muttered, earning a smirk from him.
"Yesterday, we scraped the surface," he said, stepping forward. "Today, we dig deeper. You're a boxer, so you already have a decent understanding of how to throw a punch. But boxing alone won't save you in a real fight—not against vampires."
I frowned. "What's wrong with boxing? It's straightforward, effective."
"Sure," he said, pacing around me, "until someone sweeps your legs or grabs you. Boxing assumes your opponent follows the same rules you do. Vampires don't play by the rules."
I wanted to argue, but deep down, I knew he was right. The sparring yesterday had proven that much.
"We're going to expand your skill set," Lawrence continued. "We'll start with Shotokan Karate. It'll teach you discipline, control, and how to adapt your stance for balance and power. Then we'll integrate that with your boxing."
"Karate and boxing?" I raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that... redundant?"
Lawrence snorted. "If you think that, you don't understand combat. Different styles have different strengths. You'll need every advantage you can get if you want to survive."
He moved into a stance, his legs bent, arms raised, and posture rigid yet fluid. "Karate is about precision. Power comes from your core, not just your arms. Your stance is your foundation—weak footing means a weak fighter. Watch."
He launched a quick front kick, his movements clean and deliberate. The air snapped with the force of it.
"Your turn," he said, stepping back.
I mirrored his stance, awkward and unsteady, and tried to throw the same kick. My balance wavered, and my foot barely made it above his waist.
"Pathetic," Lawrence said, shaking his head. "Your core's weak, and you're not using your hips. Again."
The morning was an endless cycle of repetition and correction. For every punch or kick I attempted, Lawrence had a critique. "Too stiff." "Too slow." "You're thinking too much." My frustration grew with every failure, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through.
Finally, he had me switch back to boxing drills.
"Boxing is your comfort zone," Lawrence said. "But you're still making rookie mistakes. Your punches are fine, but your footwork's a mess. You're not thinking about your positioning in a real fight—how to move when someone's coming at you full speed."
I threw a jab, and he sidestepped easily, countering with a light tap to my shoulder. "See? You're wide open. Vampires are faster than me, Kyon. If you don't fix this, you're dead before you can throw a second punch."
We spent another hour drilling movement and positioning, blending karate's balance and control with boxing's speed and power. By the time Lawrence finally called for a break, I was drenched in sweat and barely able to lift my arms.
"Not bad," he said begrudgingly. "For a beginner."
The mundane rhythm of school felt almost foreign after the intensity of training. I shuffled into the lecture hall, dropping into my usual seat at the back. Peter was already there, grinning like he'd been waiting all morning to pounce.
"You look like you've been run over," he said cheerfully.
"Thanks, Peter," I muttered, leaning back. "Nice to see you too."
"What's going on with you lately?" he asked, his voice dripping with curiosity. "You're always tired, disappearing at weird hours... What are you up to?"
"Nothing," I said, avoiding his gaze.
"Uh-huh." He leaned closer, his grin widening. "Is it a girl? Are you sneaking off to meet some mysterious lover?"
"No," I said flatly.
"Come on, you can tell me," he pressed. "I'm great at keeping secrets."
"Peter, you once announced to the entire class that I failed my chemistry test."
He shrugged. "Okay, bad example. But seriously, I'm your best friend. You can trust me."
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Peter, I'm not sneaking off to do anything exciting. I'm just... busy."
"Busy doing what?"
"Studying," I lied.
"Right," he said, clearly not believing me. "Whatever you say, Kyon."
After class, I ran into Sia near the library. She was sitting on the edge of a stone fountain, her Flux book balanced on her lap.
"Sia," I said, approaching hesitantly.
She looked up, her expression softening slightly. "Kyon. How's the training going?"
"Brutal," I admitted, dropping onto the fountain's edge beside her. "Lawrence has me doing this weird mix of karate and boxing. He says it's supposed to make me a better fighter, but right now it just makes me feel like an idiot."
Sia chuckled. "It gets easier. Eventually."
"Did you struggle this much when you started training?"
"Of course," she said. "Lawrence trained me too, remember? He's harsh, but he knows what he's doing. The key is to focus on the basics and not let the frustration get to you."
"Easier said than done," I muttered.
She smiled faintly. "You'll get there. Just be patient. And don't let him see you slacking—he'll make you regret it."
I chuckled, though the weight of her words settled heavily on me. "Thanks, Sia. I'll try to keep that in mind."
As I stood to leave, she added, "Oh, and Kyon?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't underestimate yourself. You're stronger than you think."
That evening, back in the foundry, Lawrence introduced me to a new drill. It was brutal, a mix of speed and power training that left me gasping for air. But as the day wore on, something shifted. My punches felt sharper, my movements more fluid. I wasn't perfect, but I was improving.
And then, in the middle of a combo, I felt it—a flicker of heat in my chest, like a spark trying to catch. The same energy I'd felt during our sparring session the day before.
"Good," Lawrence said, noticing the faint crackle of Flux around my fists. "You're starting to tap into it. Now, control it."
Control it? That was easier said than done. The energy was wild, chaotic, threatening to overwhelm me. I gritted my teeth, focusing on keeping it steady, but the strain was almost too much.
"Don't fight it," Lawrence said. "Channel it. Let it flow."
I took a deep breath, trying to follow his instructions. Slowly, the crackling stabilized, wrapping around my fists like a second skin.
"That's it," Lawrence said, nodding. "Now hit me."
I hesitated, then swung a punch at him. He blocked it, but the impact made him take a step back.
"Not bad," he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Not bad at all."
For the first time, I felt like I was starting to understand.