The two challengers faced each other on stage, the blaring lights sparking unspoken tension in the air. Ayane’s brown hair caught the harsh light; her turquoise eyes locked forward with quiet resolve.

Nakano cracked her knuckles, a sharp grin spreading across her face. “It’s not too late to back out, you know.”

Ayane didn’t answer. Without a word, she slipped her jacket off, folding it neatly before setting it on the edge of the stage. The crowd murmured.

Rikuya and the others blinked in confusion — except for Aoi and the third-years, who stayed silent, eyes fixed on her.

“Uh… what’s she doing?” Mitsuru muttered.

“No idea,” Mei replied, her tone calm, eyes glinting with quiet intrigue. “But if it’s Ayane, there’s a reason behind it.”

Nakano scoffed, loud enough for the whole arena to hear. “What’s that supposed to be, huh? You scared? Or just trying to make it look fancy before you get flattened?”

Ayane didn’t flinch. She rolled her shoulders once, hands dropping to her sides.

“Seriously?” Mitsuru whispered, a nervous sweat running down his face.

“Considering Nakano’s feat during the entrance exams and the way she talks, I’d say she’s crazy strong.” Rikuya muttered, pushing up his glasses nervously.

“I’m sure Ayane’s pretty strong herself.” Mei assured softly.

“Strong’s one way to put it,” Ryo said quietly, not taking his eyes off the stage.

The first-years turned to him.

Reina leaned forward in her seat, resting her chin on her hand with a knowing smirk. “Ayane’s strength isn’t something you measure normally. It’s… different.”

“What do you mean by that?” Mitsuru asked, frowning.

Reina’s smirk widened. “Just keep watching.”

Back on stage, Ayane intertwined her fingers, stretched her arms, and exhaled once. Her gaze locked on Nakano’s.

“If anyone’s a chicken here,” she said evenly, her tone calm but cutting, “it’s you.”

Nakano’s grin vanished. Her stance shifted, low and sharp.

The crowd hushed. Then—she launched forward, the sound of her foot hitting the concrete floor echoing like a gunshot.

“Argh!” Nakano swung her fist, but Ayane twisted her body at the last second, the rush of air grazing her cheek like a passing blade.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. “No way…!” Nakano hissed, eyes wide.

Ayane bent backward, her palms striking the ground as she flipped low, her heel slicing an arc under her punch and onto her ribs.

WHAM!

Nakano staggered back a bit, “Huh—” she barely recovered as Ayane’s spine bent sideways, her upper body dodging at an unnatural angle. Her limbs wrapped Nakano’s lower body— her body twisting midair like a ribbon— and then she launched off her, knee-first into her jaw.

CRACK!

The impact thundered through the arena as Nakano was hurled across the stage, spinning before slamming down with a deafening crash.

Ayane landed lightly, her body unfolding with fluid grace—like a flower opening in slow motion.

Silence gripped the room. Miyako and the rest of Kurohyou could only gape, their expressions frozen in disbelief.

“N-No way…” Mitsuru stammered, eyes wide.

“That’s…” Mei breathed, mirroring his awe.

“C-Contortion!” Rikuya exclaimed, the pen and notebook slipping from his hands. “Her body—so flexible!”

Misora slumped back into her seat with a groan while Ryo chuckled under his breath.

“Right. Ayane’s a special type.” Reina said with a knowing smirk.

Blood trailed from Nakano’s mouth and nose as she staggered to her feet. “W-What’s up with that, freak?!” she spat.

Ayane tilted her head slightly, calm and collected. “What’s wrong? Can’t keep up?”

“Damn bitch!!” Nakano screamed, jumping towards Ayane who flowed like water— her back arching unnaturally as she slid between her legs, twisting up like a serpent from behind. Her foot wrapped around Nakano’s ankle. With a twist of her torso, she coiled and yanked, topping her sideways.

“Holy crap, that was insane!” Rikuya blurted, furiously jotting notes with sparkling eyes.

“I’ve never seen anyone bend like that!” Mitsuru added, still trying to process what he’d just witnessed.

“That’s right.” Ryo grinned. “Because of her stretchy nature, she’s earned tons of nicknames.”

Ayane dropped low and flipped backward in a scorpion kick, her heel slicing in the air. Nakano leaned back just in time, but the shock showed on her face.

“The Silk Serpent.”

Ayane landed on one hand, twisted her legs around like a spring, and launched herself toward her in a whirlwind spin.

WHACK! Her heel smashed into Nakano’s shoulder. She reeled back, snarling.

“Argh!”

“… And the Tender Blade.” Ryo finished, his eyes still fixed on the fight.

“Those are kinda rough nicknames,” Rikuya said with a nervous laugh, a bead of sweat trickling down his cheek.

Ryo smirked. “Yeah, only some of the second-years still call her that.”

Reina clasped her hands together with a proud smile. “Well, I came up with my own nicknames for her!”

Mei tilted her head with curiosity. “Oh? Let’s hear them.”

“The Bending Beauty and the Contorted Swan,” Reina announced brightly.

Mitsuru sighed in relief. “Now those sound way nicer.”

“Okay. You wanna dance?” Nakano growled, “Let’s go!”

She charged, but Ayane dodged by contorting— her upper body leaned back at an impossible angle while her legs remained forward. The punch lashed through the air above her face by centimeters. Then she snapped forward, grabbing Nakano’s wrist with a quick twist of her own limbs, wrapping her legs around her neck from behind.

Twist. Flip. Slam.

She slipped over her shoulders, using Nakano’s own momentum to drive her face-first into the concrete.

“Ugh—gah!” Nakano groaned, coughing as she staggered up.

“You know…” Ayane said quietly, stepping back with a calm but dangerous look. “You really don’t think before you talk.”

Nakano lunged forward in a fit of rage—only to be sent flying by a sharp kick to the gut, the impact echoing as she tumbled across the floor.

Blood dripped from her mouth as she wheezed, trying to get up.

Ayane’s shadow fell over her, her eyes cold. “You wanna know why it pissed me off so much when you disrespected the leader of the Steel Wing?”

She crouched slightly, her tone low and cutting. “It’s because you didn’t just insult her… you insulted the pride and honor of someone I respect—my big sister.”

Nakano raised a leg, aiming for a kick, but Ayane ducked low, her back arching until her hands touched the ground behind her head, then propped upward, striking her with a whip-kick from her split legs. Nakano spun back, barely holding on.

“And that’s the catch.” Reina exhaled, a half-smile tugging at her lips.

“What is?” Raito asked, glancing at her.

“The moment Ayane goes off the rails,” Reina said, her gaze flicking toward Misora. “That’s why she’s like that right now. Ayane’s calm until someone crosses the line.”

Misora let out a short, tight breath. “She goes overboard when she’s angry. It’s just how she is.”

Aoi’s eyes stayed on the stage, Reina and Misora’s voices fading as her mind echoed with Mr. Shirakawa’s words from days ago.  Ayane's... a bit of a hothead; she gets riled up too easily. So, please, make sure she stays out of trouble. She can be a little... bendy and edgy most times. Her own words also flashed to her mind: How could someone that cheerful have such a fiery streak?

“Yeah. So, one should feel sorry for her opponent,” she agreed softly.

“You sound like you’ve known about this, Aoi,” Mei said, turning to the blue-haired.

Aoi crossed her arms, her mind flicking back to the day Ayane took down those thugs in the alley. “Honestly, I think she’s been waiting for this moment for a long time.”

“Really?!” Rikuya gawked.

Aoi let out a quiet breath, her gaze returning to the stage. The crowd’s cheers blurred into the background as fragments of their conversation from the entrance exams drifted back to her.

“Really?” She placed her hand on her hip. “She 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.”

A grin tugged at Aoi’s lips as the memory faded, her lavender eyes gleaming. That girl’s not one to mess with… she’s a lot more dangerous than she looks.

Ayane snaked around Nakano’s grip, literally slipping out if it by dislocating her shoulder and spinning free, body rotating like a screw.

Crack! She elbowed her in the gut, followed by a split-second twist and full-body coil that landed her heel against the back of her neck.

Nakano crashed face-first onto the floor with a thud. Before she could move, Ayane strode over, grabbed her by the hood, and yanked her up—only to slam her back down into the concrete. Debris burst upward, a spray of dust and spit flying from Nakano’s mouth.

“Now tell me,” Ayane said coldly, voice low and dangerous. “What are you supposed to say—and do?”

Nakano coughed, glaring up weakly. “Damn you… fuck off…”

Ayane exhaled sharply, closing her eyes for a moment. “I see,” she murmured, opening them again, fury burning in her turquoise gaze. “You still don’t get it.”

Her fist rose. “Too bad.”

Nakano barely managed to raise her arms before the blow came.

“You were supposed to apologize… and grovel.” Ayane’s punch cracked through her guard, snapping Nakano’s head to the side. Her body went limp—unconscious before she even hit the ground.

Ayane straightened, brushing the dust from her hands as she looked down at her fallen opponent.

“And just so you know,” she said evenly, though Nakano couldn’t hear her, “I didn’t take off my jacket because I thought it’d get dirty or anything. I took it off because you weren’t worth fighting with it on.”

She reached for it, slipping her arms through the sleeves as the wind caught the fabric, letting it flare behind her.

“I only wear it to fight worthy opponents…” She turned her back. “And you aren’t worthy one bit.”