The water embraced Yahim like an old friend as he dove into the pool. It was late, and the school was empty—just as he preferred it. The janitor, Mr. Hernandez, had a soft spot for students who showed interest in swimming and had given Yahim a key to use the pool after hours.
"Just make sure you lock up when you''re done," Mr. Hernandez had said with a wink. "And our little arrangement stays between us, yeah?"
Yahim nodded, his brain still compiling the unnecessary secrecy protocol but absolutely smashing that accept button for the admin privileges.
Mr. Hernandez vanished with grace. His footsteps faded down the hallway like free trial periods - there one minute, completely gone the next. The jangling of his keys grew distant, a notification sound you couldn''t swipe away even if you wanted to.
Now, as Yahim cut through the water with powerful strokes, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. Being in the water was the closest he came to feeling at home.
His thoughts drifted to the events of the past few days. The confrontations with the human adolescents had been... puzzling. They established dominance through intimidation rather than ability, which seemed counterproductive. In the depths where he had grown up, leadership was earned through demonstrated skill and intelligence.
Yahim had spent months observing humans before enrolling at Seabrook High. He had studied their language, their customs, their social structures. But there was so much he still didn''t understand.
Like why these "bullies" targeted weaker individuals. What was the evolutionary advantage? In his world, the strong protected the weak, ensuring the survival of the collective. This individualistic predation made no sense.
As he completed his fiftieth lap, Yahim''s enhanced hearing picked up the sound of the pool door opening. He slowed his pace immediately—he had been swimming at a speed no human could match and didn''t want to draw attention.
"Hello?" a tentative voice called out. "Is someone there?"
Yahim surfaced near the edge of the pool, recognizing the boy from the art room—the one who had witnessed his confrontation with Ryuji but had stayed hidden.
"The pool is closed," Yahim stated matter-of-factly.
"I could say the same to you," the boy replied, approaching the edge. "I''m Kai. Kai Nakamura."
Yahim nodded. "Yahim."
"Yeah, I know." Kai set down his backpack and sat on the edge of the pool. "Everyone knows who you are now."
"Why?"
Kai laughed incredulously. "Are you serious? You took down Daisuke and his goons, and then you faced off against Ryuji Sato. Nobody does that."
Yahim considered this. "They were being inefficient. Using strength to intimidate rather than to protect or build."
"That''s... an interesting way to look at it." Kai studied Yahim with open curiosity. "Where are you from, anyway? Your accent is kind of... I can''t place it."
"Far away," Yahim replied vaguely, pulling himself out of the pool. Water streamed off his body, and for a brief moment, Kai thought he saw something unusual—a faint shimmer of scales along Yahim''s forearm. But when he blinked, it was gone.
"How did you learn to fight like that?" Kai asked, changing the subject. "Some of those moves... I''ve never seen anything like them."
"I didn''t fight," Yahim corrected him. "I redirected. There''s a difference."
"Well, whatever you did, it''s got the whole school talking." Kai hesitated, then added, "And it''s got Ryuji planning."
Yahim tilted his head. "Planning what?"
"Revenge. He''s not going to let this go, you know. He can''t. His whole reputation is built on being untouchable."
"That seems... petty."
Kai laughed again, but there was no humor in it. "Welcome to high school. Petty is the currency around here."
Yahim considered this information. Human social dynamics were fascinating, if bewildering. "Why are you telling me this?"
Kai shrugged. "I don''t know. Maybe because you helped Jin, and he''s one of the few decent people at this school. Maybe because I''m tired of seeing Ryuji and his crew get away with everything." He paused. "Or maybe because I''m curious about you."
"Curious about what?"
"About why someone who can clearly handle himself is pretending to be clueless."
Yahim''s expression didn''t change, but something shifted in his eyes—a momentary alertness that hadn''t been there before. "I''m not pretending anything."
"Come on," Kai pressed. "That whole ''I''m just looking for the pool'' act? While Ryuji had a knife? Nobody''s that oblivious."
Yahim said nothing, but he was reassessing Kai Nakamura. This human was more perceptive than he had initially appeared.
"Look," Kai continued, "I don''t care what your deal is. But Ryuji''s planning something big, and I thought you should know."
"Thank you for the warning," Yahim said, reaching for his towel. "But I can handle myself."
"Yeah, I can see that." Kai stood up, hoisting his backpack. "Just... be careful, okay? Ryuji doesn''t fight fair."
As Kai turned to leave, Yahim called after him. "Why were you hiding in the art room?"
Kai froze. "What?"
"During the confrontation with Ryuji and the other boy. You were watching from the art room. Why didn''t you help?"
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
The question hung in the air between them, a challenge disguised as curiosity.
"What could I have done?" Kai asked bitterly. "I''m not like you. I can''t take on three guys at once."
"You could have called for help," Yahim suggested. "Alerted an authority figure."
"And become Ryuji''s next target? No thanks."
Yahim considered this. "You were afraid."
It wasn''t a question, but Kai answered anyway. "Yeah, I was afraid. Most of us are. That''s how guys like Ryuji stay in power."
"Fear is a useful survival mechanism," Yahim observed. "But it can also paralyze when action is needed."
"Is that from a fortune cookie?" Kai asked, a hint of defensiveness in his voice.
"No," Yahim replied, genuinely confused. "It''s basic evolutionary psychology. Fear triggers the fight-or-flight response, but in social hierarchies, it can also lead to submission behaviors that—"
"Okay, okay," Kai interrupted, holding up his hands. "I get it. You think I should have done something."
"I''m not judging you," Yahim clarified. "I''m trying to understand. Human social dynamics are... complex."
Kai stared at him for a long moment. "You know, you''re a weird guy, Yahim."
"So I''ve been told."
"But weird might be exactly what this school needs right now." Kai headed for the door, then paused. "See you around, fish boy."
After Kai left, Yahim remained motionless for several minutes, processing the conversation. Fish boy. It was said in jest, but the nickname hit uncomfortably close to the truth. He would need to be more careful about swimming when others might be watching.
He had come to this school to learn about people and social dynamics, to understand their ways so he could better protect them. But he was beginning to realize that blending in was going to be more challenging than he had anticipated.
As he changed into dry clothes, Yahim''s thoughts turned to the conflict brewing with Ryuji Sato. It was an unnecessary complication, but perhaps it could be educational. Learning how humans handled conflict might provide valuable insights.
And if Ryuji and his followers presented a genuine threat, well... Yahim would handle it. After all, he had faced far more dangerous opponents.
Compared to those, a few angry teenagers were nothing to worry about.
---
[ The Back Alley Bodega ]
It had been three days since the confrontation in the stairwell, and an uneasy quiet had settled over Seabrook High. Ryuji Sato and his crew had been conspicuously absent, which only added to the tension. Everyone was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Hideo Tanaka—Hanma''s older brother and captain of the boxing club—had heard the rumors about the freshman who had stood up to Daisuke and Ryuji. At first, he''d dismissed them as exaggerations. But when Hanma had come home without a black eye or broken glasses for the first time in weeks, Hideo started to wonder.
"So this new kid," Hideo said, leaning against the locker next to his brother''s. "What''s he like?"
Hanma shrugged, gathering his books for the next class. "Weird. Quiet. Doesn''t seem to understand how things work around here."
"But he helped you?"
"Not exactly," Hanma admitted. "I was just... there. Daisuke was hassling me, and this guy—Yahim—just wanted to get to his locker. He wasn''t trying to help me."
Hideo frowned. "But he took down Daisuke and his friends?"
"Without even trying," Hanma confirmed. "It was like... like he was just moving them out of his way."
Hideo''s interest was piqued. As captain of the boxing club, he was always on the lookout for new talent. And anyone who could handle Daisuke and his crew would be a valuable addition to the team.
"Which class does he have now?" Hideo asked.
"Biology, I think. With Mr. Chen."
Hideo nodded. "Thanks, little brother. I''ll see you after school."
As Hideo walked away, Hanma called after him. "Hey, Hideo? Be careful. There''s something... different about this guy."
Hideo waved dismissively. He''d been boxing since he was ten years old and had won the district championship three years running. He knew how to handle himself around tough guys.
---
Later that evening, Hanma sat on his bed, the events of the past few days replaying in his mind. The confrontation with Daisuke, the strange blue menu that had appeared, the mysterious Yahim who had shown up out of nowhere.
There was something he hadn''t told Hideo, something he was still trying to process. During the confrontation, when the blue menu had first appeared, he''d noticed something else—floating above everyone''s heads were numbers and bars, like health meters in a video game.
Daisuke had been Level 5, with a green health bar at full capacity. His two cronies were both Level 3. Even the random students in the hallway had levels—mostly 1s and 2s with the occasional 3.
But Yahim... Hanma''s heart raced as he recalled it. Where Yahim''s level and health bar should have been, there were only question marks, glitching and flickering as if the system couldn''t process what it was seeing.
The brass amulet was warm in his palm now, pulsing with a faint blue light. Hanma closed his eyes, focusing on it, willing the menu to appear again.
The Back Alley Bodega
[Moves] [Items] [Status]
Hesitantly, Hanma mentally selected [Items].
The Bodega''s digital shelves materialized in his mind''s eye, displaying a list of goods:
```
[1] Energy Drink (20 RP) - Temporarily increases attack power.
[2] First Aid Kit (30 RP) - Heals moderate health.
[3] Reinforced Backpack (50 RP) - Minor defense boost.
[4] Study Guide (40 RP) - Minor defense boost.
[5] Lock Pick Set (60 RP) - Unlock side opportunities.
[Back]
```
Curious, he mentally selected [Moves].
```
--- Learn New Moves ---
[1] Strong Hook (30 RP) - Slower, medium damage punch.
[2] Leg Sweep (40 RP) - Medium damage, chance to knock down.
[3] Judo Throw (50 RP) - High damage, interrupt attacks.
[4] Power Kick (60 RP) - High damage, slow, chance to stun.
[5] Dodge & Counter (70 RP) - Defensive, counter-attack.
[6] Focus Strike (80 RP) - Very high damage, slow charge.
[7] Environmental Attack (90 RP) - Use surroundings in fight.
[Back]
```
He selected [Status] next.
```
Your Stats:
* Health: 100%
* Respect Points: 0
* Known Moves: Basic Quick Jab
```
Respect Points? Hanma frowned. How was he supposed to earn those?
He glanced at his brother''s punching bag hanging in the corner of their shared bedroom. Hideo had installed it years ago, when he first started boxing seriously.
Hanma slid off his bed and approached the bag. The amulet pulsed warmly against his chest as he took a fighting stance. He remembered how his body had moved during that [Quick Jab], the sudden knowledge that had flooded his muscles.
He took a deep breath and threw a punch at the bag. It wasn''t pretty—his wrist bent at an awkward angle, and his balance was off. Nothing like the perfect form he''d experienced in the hallway.
Hanma frowned. He tried again, focusing on the memory of that perfect jab. Again and again he hit the bag, losing track of time as sweat began to soak through his t-shirt.
After what felt like hours, something clicked. His fist connected with the bag, and it felt... right. His wrist straight, his knuckles aligned, his weight properly distributed.
A notification pulsed in his mind:
```
[Quick Jab] slightly improved. Attack power increased by 1.
```
Hanma stepped back, staring at his fist in wonder. It wasn''t much, but it was something. A beginning.
He looked back at the status screen:
```
Your Stats:
* Health: 100%
* Respect Points: 0
* Known Moves: Quick Jab (Level 2)
```
Still no Respect Points. But Hanma had a theory forming about how to earn those. And it involved confronting the very people he''d spent years avoiding.
Absently, he rubbed the amulet between his fingers. What had the shopkeeper said? That it was "just what he needed"?
For the first time in years, Hanma Tanaka smiled. Maybe it was.