Chap 2

Here is the translation into English:

The gentle wind flows through the dojo, swaying the trees outside. The atmosphere is quiet, save for the sound of Izumi's and Niori's feet dragging across the wooden floor, poised for combat. The light streaming through the windows illuminates the dust particles in the air, creating an almost ethereal ambiance.

Niori strikes first, with a burst of determination. Her movements are fluid and precise, breaking through Izumi's defense with a swift blow. Another punch follows, striking his face hard. He staggers, nearly falling, but manages to stay upright, regaining his balance.

The sound of Niori's footsteps echoes through the dojo as she advances again, her gaze fixed on her opponent.

She aims for Izumi's chest, trying to knock him down with a series of firm strikes. But in a sudden surge, he defends, blocking her attack. A flicker of surprise flashes in Niori's eyes as Izumi counterattacks, throwing a punch her way. Though the blow forces her back for a brief moment, she quickly regains control, attempting to grapple him.

Without overthinking, Izumi tries to trip her with a low kick, but Niori, ever agile, dodges effortlessly. The dojo seems to breathe with the fighters, each movement leaving a palpable tension in the air.

He returns to a defensive stance, focusing. Adrenaline courses through his body as he advances, searching for an opening. Niori, still recovering from his last strike, takes a hit to the stomach, but she grabs him tightly, seizing the moment to throw him to the ground.

The sound of the impact reverberates off the dojo's walls. The air feels denser, charged with anticipation.

She looks at him for a moment, her gaze a mix of disdain and surprise that he managed to match her, even briefly. Silently, she steps back and retreats to the corner of the dojo, sitting down with a heavy sigh.

"You've fought before, haven't you, kid?" Zanko asks, arms crossed and a curious look in his eyes.

Izumi shakes his head, denying it. Images of street fights flash through his mind—memories of desperate brawls to protect others, always ending badly.

"Hm. Let's see what you're capable of," Zanko says, gesturing for Izumi to spar with him.

Takeru, who had been watching from his spot on the floor, leaps up excitedly.

"Hey, let me fight him too! It'll be fun!" he pleads, brimming with enthusiasm.

"Not now, Takeru," Zanko replies, remaining serious.

Izumi and Zanko face each other. The dojo seems to hold its breath in silence as the two prepare. Zanko, ever calm, bows to his opponent. Izumi mimics him timidly, feeling the tension in the air.

Zanko doesn't move. He waits patiently for Izumi to make the first strike. The sound of Izumi's steps is light, but the dojo seems to amplify each footfall as he closes the distance.

He attempts a direct punch at Zanko's head, but Zanko blocks it effortlessly, as if deflecting a breeze. Izumi doesn't give up, circling Zanko and trying to attack from different angles, but to no avail. Each strike is parried with minimal effort.

Izumi feels sweat trickle down his forehead while Zanko stands unmoved, like a rock amidst a storm.

When he attempts a high kick, also blocked, something shifts. He senses an opening—not visible to the naked eye, but felt in his spirit. For a fleeting moment, it's as if he can perceive the flow between himself and Zanko. He aims a quick strike at Zanko's ribs.

The air seems to hold its breath as Izumi lunges, nearly hitting his target.

But Zanko sidesteps at the last second, moving out of Izumi's reach. He notices something has changed in the boy's movements.

Without wasting time, Izumi presses forward again, trying to flank him. He throws another punch, but his arm is grabbed before he can react. In the blink of an eye, he's on the ground, pinned in a hold.

"That's enough for today. Rest," Zanko says firmly.

"I can keep going! Please!" Izumi pleads, adrenaline still surging.

Zanko casts a concerned glance at Takeru, as if he sees no other choice.

"Takeru… no tricks…"

Takeru springs from his corner with a mischievous grin.

"Thanks, old man! Let's go, Izumi!"

They face off, but Takeru seems relaxed, his confidence almost unnerving.

"Come on. It'll be fine," he teases with a playful smile.

Izumi advances cautiously, watching Takeru's every move, but as the distance closes, Takeru dodges effortlessly, laughing as he does. Izumi tries a few more strikes, but none come close. Suddenly, Takeru drops to the ground… and vanishes.

"Pew!" Takeru exclaims from behind Izumi, who spins around quickly, startled to see him with his hand outstretched inches from his face.

"He's good, but he needs a lot of training," Takeru says, still grinning.

"He's never seen magic before, Takeru," Zanko replies, his expression stern.

"What's the point of training him if we don't prepare him for everything he might face?" Takeru argues, his tone defiant.

"Experience comes with time. He's still a novice," Zanko counters, maintaining his calm.

Takeru huffs, dissatisfied.

"You always ruin the fun, old man…"

The dojo settles back into calm as Izumi lies on the floor, exhausted from the fights. He watches, still trying to process everything, as Niori and Zanko begin another training session.