The Wild Challenge From Both Lives

The sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished school hallway echoed as students rushed to their classes. Hikaru kept his head down, his hands tucked into his pockets, trying to make himself as small as possible. It never worked.

A sharp shove from behind sent him stumbling forward. His books scattered across the floor. Laughter followed. Some students exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing. A few chuckled before moving on, as if his suffering were just another part of the daily routine.

“Oops, didn’t see you there, Hikaru.” The familiar mocking tone belonged to Ryuji, the leader of his daily tormentors.

Hikaru clenched his fists, but his body refused to move. He had been through this before. Resistance only made it worse.

Another student, Daiki, kicked his notebook down the hall. “You should thank us, man. At least we’re giving you attention.”

More laughter. More humiliation.

Hikaru’s eyes burned, but he refused to let the tears fall. He kneeled down, gathering his books as students walked past, some whispering, others pretending not to see.

This was his life. Every day was the same.

A voice inside him whispered: *If only i could disappear from this world…*

But he knew better. There was no escape.

“Hikaru…”

A soft, familiar voice cut through the laughter. For a brief second, the laughter died. A pause—not out of respect, but curiosity. Even the worst bullies knew when something had shifted.

Hikaru didn’t need to look up to know who it was—Aoi. his childhood friend. She was one of the few people who still spoke to him, though even she couldn’t always shield him from the torment.

She knelt down beside him, picking up his notebook. “Are you okay?”

Hikaru hesitated before taking it from her hands. “…Yeah.” His voice was barely a whisper.

Ryuji scoffed. “Oh? The princess comes to rescue her little pet again?”

Aoi shot him a glare. “Grow up, Ryuji.”

Her defiance only made things worse. Ryuji smirked, stepping closer. “You should stop wasting your time on losers, Aoi. People might start thinking you’re one too.”

Hikaru’s grip tightened on his books. *Why does she keep helping me?*

Aoi ignored the taunts and turned back to Hikaru. “Come on, let’s go.” She offered him her hand.

For a moment, he just stared at it. His heart ached—not from the bullying, but from the fact that he had to rely on her to be saved. He hated it.

Still, he took her hand. And as they walked away, he could feel the stares. The whispers.

Even kindness felt like a curse.

———

The rooftop was quiet, save for the distant chatter of students below. The cool breeze brushed against Hikaru’s face as he sat near the railing, his lunch untouched beside him.

Aoi sat across from him, swinging her legs slightly. She had always been like this—casual, carefree, as if the world’s cruelty couldn’t touch her. Or maybe she just didn’t let it show.

“You should eat,” she said, nudging his bento box toward him.

Hikaru didn’t answer. His thoughts were elsewhere, trapped in the same cycle of frustration and helplessness.

Aoi sighed. “You can’t keep letting them walk all over you, Hikaru.”

He clenched his fists. “And what do you expect me to do? Fight them? That’ll just make it worse.”

She frowned, her voice quieter now. “I just… I don’t want to see you like this forever, Hikaru. I expect you to care about yourself more.”

He scoffed. “Easy for you to say. You’re strong. You don’t get pushed around.”

“That’s because I don’t let them.”

Hikaru fell silent.

Aoi shook her head. “You weren’t always like this, you know. When we were kids, you were always the one protecting me.” She smiled faintly. “I kind of miss that version of you.”

Hikaru looked away. *That version of me died a long time ago.*

The wind picked up, cool and fleeting—just like the person he used to be, slipping further away with every passing day.

Aoi stood up. “Come on, class is starting.”

Hikaru hesitated before following her.

———

The rest of the school day dragged on, each class blending into the next. Hikaru barely listened. The words on the board, the teacher’s voice, the scratching of pens against paper—it all felt distant, like a world he wasn’t truly part of.

By the time the final bell rang, he was exhausted, not from studying but from simply existing.

He packed his bag quickly, hoping to slip out unnoticed. But, as always, trouble found him first.

“Hikaru.”

The moment he heard Ryuji’s voice, his body tensed. He turned slowly, already expecting the worst.

Ryuji leaned against the doorframe with his usual smirk. Behind him, Daiki and another one of his friends were waiting. The classroom was mostly empty now—no witnesses, no one to help.

“Going home so soon?” Ryuji asked. “We were thinking of hanging out. You should come.”

Hikaru knew what that meant.

“I have to go,” he muttered, gripping his bag tightly.

Ryuji’s smile widened. “C’mon, don’t be rude.”

A hand grabbed Hikaru’s shoulder. Hard.

“Just for a little while,” Daiki added. “It’ll be fun.”

Panic surged through Hikaru’s chest. He tried to shake them off, but they were stronger.

*Not again.*

They dragged him outside, past the school gates, into an empty alley behind the old gym. This was their usual spot. Out of sight, out of reach.

The first shove knocked him off balance. His back hit the wall.

Ryuji sighed dramatically. “You know, it’s kind of annoying how Aoi keeps stepping in for you. You should really stop bothering her.”

Hikaru gritted his teeth. “I never asked her to.”

Another shove. “Oh? So you’re saying she’s wasting her time?”

Daiki laughed. “Maybe she’s just keeping him around for pity.”

Hikaru stayed silent, but every word cut deeper than he wanted to admit.

Ryuji leaned in closer. “Maybe we should give her a reason to stop playing hero.”

Something in Hikaru snapped.

Something inside Hikaru shattered. His fist moved before his mind could stop it—bone against bone, a sharp crack echoing in the empty alley. Ryuji stumbled, clutching his jaw, his eyes wide—not with pain, but with disbelief. For the first time, Hikaru had struck back.

For the first time, there was no laughter.

Just silence.

Then, Ryuji wiped his mouth and grinned. “Oh… so you do have some fight in you.”

Hikaru barely had time to react before the first punch landed.

Then another.

Blow after blow landed. His ribs ached, his vision blurred, and his legs barely held him up.

But he didn’t fall.

Hikaru had been through this before. He knew struggling would only make it worse, so he clenched his teeth and **endured**. He let them hit him, waiting for them to grow tired, waiting for it to be over.

A punch to the stomach sent him to his knees. His breath came in ragged gasps, but he didn’t beg.

Daiki clicked his tongue. “Tch. He’s no fun when he doesn’t fight back.”

Ryuji wiped his lip where Hikaru had hit him earlier. His eyes darkened. “Yeah? Then maybe we should change that.”

He grabbed Hikaru’s collar and yanked him up, forcing him to look at him.

“Listen, loser,” Ryuji growled, his voice low. “You think one little punch changes anything?” Ryuji’s grip tightened. His voice dropped, dangerously low. “ Next time you even think about fighting back, Hikaru… you won’t walk away.”

Hikaru didn’t answer. He just stared at him—not with fear, but with something else. Something cold. Something empty.

Ryuji scoffed and shoved him back to the ground. “Pathetic.”

With that, they walked away, laughing, like it had all just been a game.

Hikaru stayed on the ground for a moment, staring at the sky. The pain in his body was nothing compared to the weight pressing on his mind.

It never changed. No matter what he did, no matter how much he tried to endure, *nothing changed huh.*

He clenched his fists against the cold pavement.

*If only I could disappear from this world…*

A cold breeze swept through the alley.

Hikaru dragged himself home under the dim glow of the streetlights. His body ached with every step, bruises forming beneath his uniform, but he didn’t care. He was used to the pain.

The house was quiet when he stepped inside. His parents were never home this late. They worked, they lived their own lives—and they never noticed him.

He dropped his bag by the door and went straight to his room. The moment he shut the door behind him, the weight of the day crashed down on him all at once.

He slid down to the floor, his hands trembling.

He hated this.

The helplessness. The humiliation. The loneliness.

No one was coming to save him. Aoi could only do so much. The teachers ignored it. The world kept turning, unaffected by his suffering.

Hikaru leaned his head back against the door, staring at the ceiling.

*If I could just leave this place…*

His eyelids grew heavy. His body, exhausted.

A strange warmth filled his chest, spreading through his limbs. The air in the room shifted, the silence turning almost too deep, too unnatural.

His breath slowed.

The last thing he saw before darkness took him—

—was a faint, glowing light flickering in the corner of his vision.

A deep silence filled the air. Unlike the usual hum of traffic outside his window, there was nothing—no distant car engines, no voices, no faint city sounds.

Just silence.

Hikaru’s eyes fluttered open. A wooden ceiling greeted him instead of the cracked plaster of his apartment. His body felt… strange. His limbs no longer carried the weight of exhaustion, yet a dull ache lingered in his muscles—as if they had been pushed beyond their limits in his sleep. His fingers curled experimentally. The grip was stronger. His balance steadier. And yet… something was missing. Like a power waiting just out of reach.

He sat up slowly, his limbs aching, but not from the beating. This pain was different. Like his body had been working itself beyond its limits in his sleep.

As he scanned the unfamiliar room, his confusion deepened. The walls were made of aged wood, the floor covered in woven mats. A dim lantern flickered in the corner, casting long shadows. Beside his bed, there was a simple wooden desk, a few scrolls stacked neatly on top.

Hikaru took a deep breath. The air felt… different. Rich. Heavy, yet invigorating, as if it carried something more than oxygen alone.

His clothes were different, too. Instead of his school uniform, he wore a simple gray robe, rough yet sturdy. His fingers traced the fabric, his mind racing.

*where am i?*

He pushed himself to his feet, wobbling slightly. His body was familiar, yet unfamiliar—stronger than in Sekai, but still far from powerful.

A faint memory flickered in his mind. The alley. The pain. The overwhelming desire to disappear.

And then…

The light.

Before Hikaru could make sense of it, the silence stretched on. His’s heartbeat drummed in his ears. He took an unsteady step forward—then froze.

A faint sound. Footsteps. Moving toward him.

The door slid open.

A tall figure stood at the entrance, dressed in deep blue robes lined with silver. His sharp eyes scanned Hikaru, as if assessing him.

“So, you’re finally awake.”

His voice was calm, but there was an undeniable authority behind it.

“Get dressed properly. Morning training begins soon.”