The mories faded...
like old photographs losing their color...
like a distant voice swallowed by silence...
Soraya slowly exhaled.
“That,” she whispered, eyes lowering, “was how the Navraan family was born.”
Her words lingered in the air—quiet, heavy, and warm—before dissolving into the room.
Across from them, Jihan was busy mocking Shahin, Alok, and Rihan again.
His voice carried a playful sting, the sa familiar tsk, the sa sharp grin.
Soraya and Afraan watched him together.
“It took us five years to reach where we are now,” Soraya murmured.
A tiny smile touched her lips.
“And it also took Jihan five years... to finally start laughing again.”
As they watched the four boys bicker, Afraan felt sothing settle in his chest.
A realization...
Yeah.
He understood now.
Why Jihan had been like that back then, during the incident.
And that was the ti he vowed to himself...
That he would serve the Navraan family for the rest of his life.
***
After a few days, when I finally recovered fully.
That was when my real training began—
under Master Jihan.
We were in a wide, empty field.
Dry grass shivered under the hot breeze shhhhk...
And I stood in front of him alone... while the others sat comfortably in the shade, sipping cold drinks like they were watching so cody show.
Slurp.
Alok lowered his bottle. “So, what do you think? Can he endure that?”
Rihan didn’t even hesitate.
“Nah... not a chance. I bet he won’t last a day.”
Crack! Soraya flicked them both on the head.
“Quiet, you two. Can’t you just watch silently?!”
Their heads snapped forward in unison. Thonk.
I wished I could switch places with them... but life is unfair.
Jihan cleared his throat like a strict professor.
“So, the first thing you need to do in your training is...”
A dramatic pause.
“...just running.”
“Run?” I blinked. “...Huh??”
“Yup.” He casually pointed behind . “See that red flag?”
I turned around.
There was nothing.
Just heat, haze, and more heat.
A horizon lting in sunlight.
“...I don’t see any flag, though.”
“What are you talking about?” He frowned at like I was the crazy one. “Focus a little. I’m sure you’ll see it.”
I sighed, squinted, and forced my eyes to search.
And finally—
a tiny speck of red.
So far away it looked like soone stabbed a thread into the earth.
Is he telling to run that far?
That’s absolutely—
“...Am I supposed to run until I reach there?” I asked with a face that couldn’t be decoded by any human language.
“Nope.” His smile brightened innocently.
“After reaching there, you need to co back with the flag.”
I stared blankly. “Huh?”
He nodded, eyes sparkling like a kind executioner.
“So I... need to go there running... and co back here... with that flag?” I pointed helplessly toward the red dot.
“Yep. You’re right.” His innocent face remained untouched by sha.
“He... hehe...” I laughed. Very forced. Painful.
“He... hehehe...” He laughed too.
Then— his expression turned sharp as a blade.
“Now, run already.”
Silence fell.
Yeah.
I think I’m screwed.
***
For a whole week, my training was just running.
At first, it was torture. My lungs burned like they were on fire—haa... haa...—my legs scread louder than my mind, begging to quit.
But I endured.
Because I wanted strength too.
And it hurt even more when Master Jihan said stuff like this on the very first day—
When I finally returned with the red flag—half-dead, collapsing on the ground with a soft thud—he stood over and said,
“It was easy for you, wasn’t it?”
He nodded thoughtfully.
“I should’ve set the difficulty higher from the start.”
...What is this bastard saying?
Easy?
I’m literally half dead here!
And yes... he actually increased the difficulty every single day. Each morning the distance was farther than the last, like the flag was slowly migrating to another country.
But after a week... running beca a bit easier.
Which is exactly when the training beca even worse.
And for six whole months...
I went through a hellish, never-ending nightmare called training.
***
After the first week ended...
Master Jihan began adding weights to my training.
Clink.
Five kilograms strapped onto my body.
“Run the sa distance again. Then push-ups. Then sit-ups,” he said casually, as if asking to take a walk in the park.
Three days later:
Clink—clink.
Ten kilograms.
Another week:
Thud.
Twenty kilograms.
I honestly don’t know how I survived that.
Every day I moved like a zombie, dragging myself through the dirt, breathing like haa... haa..., my soul slowly leaving my body.
But sohow... sohow... I endured.
Then, after that third week...
the real training began.
Sparring.
And my first opponent was—
Soraya Navraan.
***
It was honestly shaful for to fight against a girl.
And not just any girl—she was thirteen.
Inside the training arena of Navraan Headquarters, there was almost nothing except so chairs lined up near the wall.
Tap... tap... my footsteps echoed softly as I stood across from Soraya Navraan.
Master Jihan’s girlfriend.
The other three sat lazily in the chairs, their expressions saying it all—
This won’t even be a fight.
Master Jihan stood on the opposite side, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
Then his voice cut through the silence.
“Begin.”
As soon as the match started, I relaxed a little.
Let’s take it easy, I told myself. It’s just a thirteen-year-old girl.
But—
Bang!
I didn’t even know what happened.
One mont I was standing, and the next—
Thud.
I was on the floor, vision spinning, consciousness slipping away.
Darkness spread across my sight like ink.
And just like that...
I lost my very first fight.
To a thirteen-year-old girl.
How embarrassing.
***
And for the full six months... it was only sparring.
I would step into the arena, trade blows with soone far stronger, lose consciousness, wake up again, and repeat the cycle.
Bang.
Thud.
Blackout.
Recover.
Over and over, like a broken record.
Six months passed.
Countless matches fought.
Countless tis I hit the floor.
And even after all of that training...
I didn’t win a single spar.
And that’s how the long training ended.
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