The early morning light reflected off of Noah's sweat. He had already been up for an hour, jump roping and maintaining his body. A timer went off in the distance on the table.
"Time already?" Noah groaned. Although training was hellish, to Noah, school was even more so. He lacked the patience and time that learning and studying occupied.
He showered and got dressed for school. His mother was at the door, preparing to head to work.
"Have a good day!" Noah shouted, packing his bag.
By then, she had already left. His mom wasn't too pleased with how often he was training, and was quite worried. On the contrary, Noah has never felt any better. Regardless, he knew deep down his mom just deeply cared for him.
His phone buzzed with another timer before he shoved it into his pocket and walked to school.
At the gate, he got the usual stares from the girls and looks of distain from the boys. Another student approached Noah and slapped him on the back, "Yo Noah!"
"Hey... Jin," Noah responded. "How have you been?"
The student's name was Jin Jang, the younger brother of his instructor Soo Jang.
(A/N: In case you forgot, refer to when they were in the shed. Jin Jang was the boy who was being bullied)
Short, chubby, quite ugly, and no athleticism unlike his older brother, Jin Jang was somehow Noah's only friend.
It's not as if that was necessarily a bad thing, if anything, Noah appreciated it. Jin was his first friend in a while, and despite all of those lackluster characteristics, he was quite humorous to say the least.
"I can see you've been working out even more, Noah!" Although he was joking, he truly was impressed. "I wonder if I can do the same too, you know!"
A teacher glanced up as he walked past, eyebrows lifting. Noah smiled, deflecting. He liked being noticed and hated being noticed at the same time. He told himself it was just training, he didn't understand how he attracted attention.
In class, the world felt slightly too small. Voices were muffled like they were behind glass. He could pick out a foot shuffle in the back row, see a hand twitch a fraction before someone reached for a pencil.
-- For these reasons, he found it extremely difficult to focus in most of his classes. Soo had trained his senses to quite the degree; fortunately, however, he realized they were useful for other things.
At lunch, a kid shoved past him and knocked his tray. Food scattered, eyes followed the spill like ripples. Noah crouched, gathering his fork and napkin. He heard laughter, yet it was only from the boys who had despised him.
A girl from the next table shot him a sympathetic look. He remembered Soo's voice: Don't be fooled, don't be tempted, don't be provoked. The second you fall for this, is the same second you'll seem to the be oppressor.
He thought, "It's stupid to start trouble over a cafeteria tray." He had no reason to hurt anyone just for food.
Near the end of the day, in the corridor, the air tasted and smelled the way it did before small storms.
Along the sidewalk, someone blocked his path. Though he did not recognize the fact, the person gave off a dangerous feeling. Behind him, two others posed like models.
"An older student?" Noah mumbled.
"Hey, Park, let's talk for a second." The voice was oily and rough.
Noah kept his hands tucked into his pockets. He had no interest in fooling around nor entertaining these people. He had interest in getting home before his mom called again. He smiled, even though he did not want to. "Evening," he said. "Unfortunately, I have matters to attend to. So excuse me."
One of the people reached for the seam of his hoodie, fingers deliberate. The smaller boy who had shoved his tray earlier lingered, watching like a rat curious about a trap. Noah exhaled, slow and even. He avoided his hand and walked by them waving.
He took a different route home, thinking the alley would save time. It was quieter than the main road, lined by low shops and a row of trees. Noah kept his head down and his pace steady. He wanted to get home, eat, and train. Simple things. The alley smelled like wet concrete and old trash.
They caught up to him. Truthfully, he had no reason to go through the alley. Perhaps he wanted to get into his first fight, or maybe he genuinenly believed they wouldn't follow him.
The leader stepped out from behind the group of people, hands in his pockets. The other three spread so the alley tightened. The leader smiled. The extra man, the one with the tattoo, moved like someone who had been paid to make trouble.
"Park," the leader said. "You walking alone tonight? Bad idea. You should've come with us when we asked politely, you know?"
Noah kept his hands empty and loose. He tried not to look nervous. He told himself Soo's lines: Stay alert. Breathe. Don't move first. He had practiced staying calm more than anything else these past few months. Being calm was a choice.
"Just passing through, I told you, I have somewhere to be," Noah said. He tried to make his voice flat.
One of them shoved him, not hard, the kind of shove that was meant to get a rise. The small kid from lunch watched from the edge, eyes wide with his phone out and recording.
"Hands off," Noah muttered. He stepped back. The leader reached for his hoodie and the bag strap. The tattooed man cracked his knuckles.
Noah sighed. "I don't want this, and neither should you. Last warning."
Someone laughed. The hired man moved forward then swung, sloppy but fast enough.
Noah did not think. His body moved first, a reflex stitched into muscle and bone by weeks of training. He stepped in on the swing to close the gap and his forearm met the attacker's chest. The man stumbled far back.
He threw another punch, this time more compact and focused. Noah dodged to the inside, delivering a heavy blow to the center of the man's chest.
The man flew back, hitting the metal shutter with a hard thunk and sliding down. He was out before his head hit the ground, eyes rolling up, an ugly silence coming from his mouth.
For half a second, the alley seemingly held its breath. The leader cursed and lunged. Noah sidestepped, turning his weight and his fist into a straight, ugly line. The leader hit the pavement with a sound like someone closing a coffin lid. He too did not get up.
Concrete cracked where the leader's shoulder struck, a thin spidering line spreading from the impact. Blood slicked the corner of his lip. The second man tried to scramble away before falling.
Noah stood in the middle of the alley, breathing heavily from the shock. He had been sparring against Soo Jang, a professional coach and fighter. He had not realized the extent of his current strength.
The city noise returned like someone turning a faucet back on. One of the boys cursed and backed away. The hired man on the ground gagged and tried to breathe. Someone banged at a shutter and shouted for help.
Noah did not understand what had happened until he saw the first man, the one who had slid against the shutter. He was pale and breathing thin. Blood darkened his shirt. The kid who had shoved the tray had his phone out, hands shaking as he kept filming. Noah saw his own knuckles, red at the joints.
Panic spread through him like cold water. He had not intended to do this. He had meant to block and move, to end it without anyone leaving the scene worse than bruised and learning a lesson. The clarity he sometimes felt in training was all gone. All that was left was the thud of his heart.
"Oh no..." he whispered.
He backed up until his spine hit a rusted fence. The hired boys were arguing now, half anger, half fear. The one still conscious clutched his side and rolled onto his stomach. Sirens faintly threaded through the city somewhere close enough to be a clock of urgency.
Noah was about to run before remembering the boy was recording. He locked eyes with the boy before chasing him as he spun away. He quickly caught up to him and found the phone locked.
"Hey!" He spoke, breathing heavily. "Quickly, unlock your phone so I can delete the footage!"
The boy refused. "I will break it and take it with me if you don't, I'm telling you!"
The boy was too frightened and incoherent to respond. Noah threw it on the ground and stomped on it before shoving it into his pocket.
He turned and ran. He did not care of which direction, as long as he wasn't on the scene, he was good. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs trembled. He stopped by a low railing overlooking a slow river and bent over, hands on his knees, the world wobbling.
He pulled out the broken phone and tossed it in. His phone buzzed. The caller ID flashed "Master." His hands were shaking as he answered.
"Noah," Soo said. "Where are you? It's time for training."
"No-" Noah started, then the sound of someone moaning from the alley cut through his words. He could still see the flash of concrete and the way the leader's eyes had gone slack. He swallowed.
"I fought back," he said. His voice broke. "I did nothing wrong. One of them is down. He... I think he might've-"
"Where are you?" Soo asked.
"I-I don't know. Somewhere by the market near the river. I ran." His words tumbled out as he puffed.
"Stay where you are," Soo said. There was no anger, only a relaxed tone. "Do not move. I am coming, we can talk about this. Don't tell your mother."
Noah pressed his forehead to his palm and tasted copper on his tongue. The adrenaline that had brightened his instincts collapsed into a hollow panic. He could hear the ambulance wailing in the distance.
He clutched his phone in fear, "What... did I just do?"