“You’re in my way, freak,” a voice sneered as a girl brushed past them. Aoi straightened, her eyes narrowing as both she and Ayane turned toward the figure walking away. Her long black hair swayed behind her, and the cropped Sayonaki jacket fluttered dramatically with each step. Black pants clung to her form, tucked into matching black boots that hit the ground with purpose. The girl paused, casting a glance over her shoulder. Her fitted black undershirt peeked through beneath the open jacket, and her brown eyes gleamed with pride. A smug smirk tugged at her lips.

“Do me a favor,” she said, voice laced with disdain, “and stop chatting like a bunch of grade-school brats. Honestly, you should just go back to wherever you came from, loser.” With that, she turned and walked off, boots scraping against the ground. Aoi clicked her tongue quietly. Seriously? That’s the second person to purposely slam into me today, she mused, irritation simmering behind her lavender eyes.

Ayane let out an exasperated sigh, placing one hand on her hip and shaking her head with her eyes closed. “Ugh. Just ignore her. I honestly don’t know what her deal is.”

Aoi glanced over. “You know her?”

“Yeah,” Ayane replied with a grim nod, eyes opening with a bored look as she watched the girl strut away. Aoi followed her gaze. “Nakano Murase,” she muttered. “An arrogant, stuck-up snob with a thing for chasing after any guy she finds remotely cute. We went to the same middle school, but we were in different classes, so we never talked. Her dad works for the government or something—typical rich kid. She wasn’t exactly loved back then either. Always starting drama, dating guys, then dumping them a few days later like clockwork.” She scoffed; arms crossed. “No clue why she ended up here… probably just came to stir up more trouble.”

Aoi exhaled a small huff and placed her hand on her hip. “Sounds like a real headache.”

“Yeah, and not the kind you can ignore,” Ayane grumbled, irritation simmering in her voice. “One of these days, I swear—I’d love to land a clean punch on that smug face of hers.”

Aoi glanced at her, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“I wonder what made her choose Sayonaki High, considering the kind of school it is,” Ayane mused aloud, more to herself now, brow furrowing slightly.

“Maybe it’s the fighting,” Aoi said with a light shrug. “Could be her thing—you said it yourself.” Ayane hummed thoughtfully, but before she could respond, a shift in the atmosphere caught their attention. A stir rose in the courtyard. An upperclassman stepped forward, his voice firm as he gestured for the newcomers to follow. “This way. Keep moving.”

Ayane nudged Aoi gently. “Let’s go,” she said, leading the way. Aoi followed a few paces behind, hands stuffed in her pockets, her gaze sharp and observant. As they entered, the crowd of first-years slowed to a halt—instinctively hushed by the sheer scale of the place.

The training arena was massive. High ceilings lined with sleek lighting strips cast a sterile glow over the space. Rows of digital panels blinked from the walls, scanning and syncing with students’ bands. Mechanical gears and reinforced metal pillars were spaced out strategically, hinting at intense physical trials ahead. It was more than just a gym—it looked like a hybrid between a dojo and a tech lab, humming with quiet power.

Aoi’s eyes scanned the arena, taking in every corner—the motion sensors, the climbing structures, the tread-heavy flooring, the rotating platforms. Her brows furrowed slightly.

“…So this is the inside,” she muttered. “Feels more like a prototype battlefield than a school facility.” Students began turning toward the stairway as a loud voice rang out:

“Alright, heads up, first-years! This isn’t the time for idle chatter!” Aoi and Ayane both looked up, eyes drawn to a small group appearing on the upper floor like a unit of authority, all standing behind the railings. Seven upperclassmen—three boys and three girls—flanked a confident figure in the center. Her hands were stuffed casually into her pockets, a wide grin playing on her lips as her crimson ponytail danced in the breeze.

Aoi’s brows rose slightly, lips parting as she stared at the girl at the center. That girl… she mused in recognition. Next to her, Ayane was already mumbling with growing excitement, her eyes practically sparkling.

“It’s her…” she whispered. “It’s—Asuka Renge!” The name dropped with weight. Asuka’s baby blue eyes gleamed as she stepped forward, radiating confidence.