Monday Evening 7:00 PM Study Time at Home.
Mia sat across from Ethan at the desk, explaining math with the patience of a literal saint. But Ethan's brain?
One word in — out the other ear.
Two words in — brain static.
Three words in—BZZZT! System crash detected.
Ethan, internally screaming, Am I dumb? No. Am I tired? Hell yes. Brain cells? Missing in action."
Mia, bless her soul, kept going. "Focus, Ethan. It's simple—if you move x to the other side—" she said, her voice slightly strained but still way too kind for what he deserved.
Ethan blinked at her like a stunned hamster. "Wait, who's moving where now?" he asked, genuinely lost in the math battlefield.
An hour dragged by. It felt like ten.
Just then, Izzy came home from work and peeked into the study room.
"Hey, guys! How's the study going?" she asked, stretching her arms.
Mia immediately greeted her with a bright smile. "Hello, Sister Izzy! How are you?"
Izzy chuckled. "Pretty good. What about you?"
Mia nodded proudly. "Absolutely fine!"
Izzy grinned. "And what about you—Ethan?!"
She froze.
Ethan sat there, completely blank, smoke practically leaking from his ears. His eyes were two dead fish, staring into the void.
Izzy pitied the poor soul. "Ethan... I believe in you. You can survive," she said, patting his head like a soldier about to go to war.
Ethan showed no reaction. Not even a blink.
Izzy shook her head with a little laugh. "Ah, well. Both of you have fun. I'll go prepare food."
And with that, she left for the kitchen.
Inside Ethan's head, Leon Mercer — once the infamous, fearsome leader of the Blackfang Syndicate — was having a full mental breakdown.
"Why... why... why the hell did I agree to study... with THIS... demon king of all subjects?!" Leon wailed dramatically. "I've lost. I, Leon Mercer, have lost the fight to a snorty little girl explaining basic math! MY PRIDE HURTS, DAMMIT!"
Leon continued sobbing internally but managed to add, However... in this whole hour... I have managed to grasp a few concepts. Barely. I'm sure... we'll nail it by the end of the week... Haaaghhh, my head... hurts... so much..."
Meanwhile, in reality, Ethan was still staring blankly at the textbook, drool dangerously close to escaping his mouth.
Mia finally sighed and gently closed the book. "Maybe we should... take a little break?" she said, looking at him like he was a broken machine in need of a factory reset.
Ethan could only nod slowly, like a dying robot.
Break time never sounded so much like a rescue mission.
A little while later, Izzy's voice echoed from downstairs: Hey guys, food's ready!"
Mia perked up. "Hm... good."
She looked over at Ethan, still staring blankly at his notebook.
"Hey, are you there?" Mia waved a hand in front of his face.
Ethan snapped out of it with a loud agh!" clutching his head. "What—what's up?!"
Mia smirked. "Food's ready. If you don't want to starve to death, stop burning holes into your notebook with those black hole eyes. I'm going to eat".
Ethan blinked, still processing. "Huh? Food? Wait... did Izzy come back already? Why didn't you tell me?!"
Mia gave him a deadpan look, full of disbelief. "OMG, this boy seriously..." she thought.
She finally spoke, shaking her head. "Are you really Sister Izzy's brother? How can siblings be so different, huh? Whatever—if you want to eat, get up."
Mia walked off, leaving Ethan sitting there like a broken robot.
Inside Ethan's mind, Leon Mercer sighed. "Damn, this girl really is trouble. Anyway, let's move before the black hole devours everything."
With that, Ethan stumbled to his feet and dragged himself toward the delicious smell of dinner.
After finishing their dinner, they got back to studying again. Thirty minutes later, Mr. Carter came to pick Mia up and take her home.
Left alone in his room, Ethan flopped face-first onto his bed, groaning. "I am so beat up..." he muttered, his voice muffled by the pillow.
In his mind, Leon grumbled. "Who would've thought I'd ever pick up a book instead of a weapon..." Studying was hard. It was exhausting. But honestly? Leon was okay with iit—""...as long as this life stays peaceful, I'll do whatever it takes."
Huffing a breath, Ethan rolled off the bed and grabbed his books again, dragging himself back to the desk like a soldier marching to war.
Narrator brightly Ethan — no, even Leon — knew the value of education now. He was ready to endure it, as long as it kept him far, far away from the life of a criminal this time. Oh, hey, Ethan! The formula is (a + b)³ = a³ + 3a²b + 3ab² + b³! Hah! You really have a lot of struggling ahead, my friend.
Leon, in Ethan's mind, teeth gritted, Oi... Narrate one more damn formula..." His voice was low, dangerous, the kind that made even the toughest thugs back ddown—"and I swear you'll be solving the mystery of where your teeth went next."
The narrator immediately started sweating bullets, wiping his forehead nervously. Narrator stammering, S-Sorry, sir! I got a little... carried away by the emotions! I'll... I'll shut my mouth now!"
Silence fell. Ethan cracked a tired, amused smile as he went back to solving problems, pencil dragging across the paper. Leon huffed in the back of his mind but still not giving up—for tonight, it was just a boy, his secondhand desk, a stack of half-torn books…and the stubborn determination to not repeat the mistakes of a past life.
NEXT DAY
THUMP THUMP THUMP—!
Once again, we are shown Ethan gasping like a dying fish face. Ethan ran, panting without stopping, sneakers slapping the sidewalk like wet towels.
Ethan "God...damn...it...!" he wheezed, heart punching his ribs. His skinny legs felt like they were about to snap clean off.
Finally, the gym came into view.
A big-ass building, lights buzzing, a giant poster of some shredded dude flexing his life away on the front. "If I don't die on the road, I'll die inside that place..." Ethan thought grimly, stumbling through the door.
Inside, the trainer — a bald, buff dude named Arnold — was already waiting. He looked Ethan up and down like he was inspecting a half-rotten carrot.
Coach arnold gruff "Tch. You call that running? It looked like a wet noodle flopping' in the wind."
Ethan, panting, half-dead. "I got... here... didn't I...?"
Coach "Barely. Now MOVE!"
MONTAGE BEGINS —
WHAM! THUD! HUFF HUFF!
Push-ups — Ethan collapses on the first one.
Sit-ups — his body shakes like a cheap washing machine.
Pull-ups — he dangles from the bar like a sad fish.
All the while, Leon's voice echoed—Leon in Ethan's mind struggling. "Back in my day, this was just foreplay before breakfast."
Ethan said out loud, wheezing, cursing at his own body out loud "And now... damn this weak body of mine!"
Several gym-goers stopped mid-rep, gawking at the poor, trembling skeleton-boy making a scene.
Ethan noticed.And smiled.That awkward, "heh-heh-I'm-fine-don't-look-at-me" kind of grin.
Leon, meanwhile, offended with thier petting gazes was fuming in his head.snarling "The hell you starin' at? Never seen royalty struggling before, peasants?!"
Hours (?) later — Ethan's entire body felt like it had gone through a paper shredder.And then Coach Arnold wheeled in... the final boss.
A massive tray of Otherworldly Alien Gym Food™ sat in front of him.
Glowing. Steaming. Smelling like it had been cooked in a parallel universe where "edibility" was just a polite suggestion.
Leon deadpan from inside Ethan's brain "Is that... Is that meat? Or... is it moving? Bro, I've been stabbed, shot, and thrown off roofs — but THIS? This is my true hell."
Leon more serious, swearing low "God fucking damn it... but what can I do? If I die, it's all your fault to be weak ass brat Ethan, you little shit."
Ethan stared at the alien feast. Ethan gulping hard "I... I have to do it..."
Without another thought (or maybe because he stopped thinking), Ethan shoved forkful after forkful into his mouth.
CHOMP. CHOMP. GAG. CHOMP.
Half the gym watched in awe, half in horror.
Fifteen minutes later — Ethan lay sprawled across the bench, hands on his bloated stomach, eyes blank and glassy.
Ethan whimpering, delirious "I... I can see the light... bye... world... bye, cruel calories..."
Leon moaning in defeat in back of Ethan's mind "Sorry, kid... Guess this time it wasn't gang wars that killed me... it was lasagna made outta fuckin' alien goat meat." He gave a little salute with a shaky hand. "Rest in pieces, me."
A tiny funeral theme seemed to play in the background as random gym members quietly bowed their heads in respect.
A little RIP sign floated over Ethan's barely twitching body
TING!— RIPEthan/Leon—DeathbyGymFood.
From the corner, Coach Arnold leaned casually against the window, watching the sunset like he was in a western.
Coach Arnold calling out, voice low and casual "Hey, kid. Didn't you say somethin' last time 'bout joinin' that new Star Academy or whatever?"
At the word Academy, Ethan bolted upright like someone hit him with a defibrillator.
Ethan weakly but alert eyes snapped open like a zombie resurrected by spite."Yeah... so what?"
Coach Arnold still looking outside, voice serious now "That place's got some real troublemakers, y'know. Real punks. Tough ones. If you think you're gonna take 'em on with a week of half-ass training and noodle arms..."
(he snorted)"...then Things'll get bloody troublesome real fast. So it'd be—"
Ethan blinked, processing the warning... and then flashed a half-dead grin. Ethan cut him off with a lazy grin, sitting up like nothing happened, Ethan grinning, teasing, "Wow... didn't know you cared, Coach. That's kinda sweet."
Coach Arnold barking a laugh he turned, face scrunching up like he smelled something sour.
" I ain't tryna care. I'm tryna keep you from gettin' your ribs turned into a fuckin' xylophone. Kid, I'm trying to tell you something important here, listen—"
"—OK, OK, I get it! Geez, Coach!" Ethan waved him off, stretching with fake yawns. "Why you gotta be so whiny about it? Besides, I'm only doing all this gym crap to get some muscles, look cool, snag a few girls maybe... and not look like a total pushover when the academy bullies come swinging, you know?"
He chuckled, ruffling his own hair, cocky as hell."And if things really go south..." Ethan grinned wide. "I'll just run away real fast, clutchin' my tail like a good little coward! Heh!"
Coach stared at him for a second... then snorted. A rare, tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "This brat," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
"You keep cutting me off, brat, huh?"
He cracked his knuckles slowly. "Guess your body still ain't wrecked enough after all."
Ethan, still half-dead on the gym floor, wheezed,"No wait... Sorry, sir. I was swayed by emotion."
Leon in Ethan's Thought frowned and scratched his head. "Why does it feel like I've heard that line somewhere before...?" He shrugged, grimacing. "Ah well, whatever."
Coach turned, his arms crossed, giving them the look — that deadly combination of 'concerned dad' and 'ready to whoop your ass with a clipboard.'
"This is just small advice for you," Coach grunted. "So just listen. Don't cut me off again. Or you'll really get it, you little shits."
Ethan scrambled upright, throwing a shaky salute."Yes, sir! No cutting off! Loud and clear, sir!"
Coach grunted approvingly. He stepped closer, lowering his voice like he was about to spill mafia secrets.
"A few years back... a boy Joind in he was a first-year from that Star Academy. Real talent. Strength for days. That kid could've gone pro — easy. Champion material. But..."
Coach's jaw clenched a little. "He walked away. Said he wasn't interested in that kinda life. Bastard was... messed up in the head, if you ask me."
Ethan blinked, curiosity lighting up behind his bloodshot, sleep-deprived eyes."Wait—seriously? How strong was he anyway?"
Coach's mouth twisted into a half-smirk, half-grimace, like the memory physically hurt."How strong?" he chuckled dryly. "He beat all the boxers in this gym. Every last one. Even Mickel Stenner."
BOOM.
That name dropped into the room like a grenade.
In the back of Ethan's mind, Leon with a mixture of surprised and impressed.
"Mickel Stenner...?!"
The undefeated heavyweight asshole of the gym. The gym's pride, Mickel's photograph hanging proudly by the entrance a man built like a concrete wall married to a bulldozer, and their baby was Mickel fucking Stenner.Square jaw, arms like tree trunks, that permanent "I eat nails for breakfast" glare.
In Ethan's Thought Leon, If this was a "few years ago," Stenner would've been in his early twenties — still fresh, fast, and terrifying and some random Academy brat wrecked him?
Even a younger Stenner could've flattened a regular guy just by breathing too hard in his direction. That's not a small fucking feat, Leon thought, feeling a cold sweat creep down his spine.
Leon's voice floated lazily in the back of Ethan's skull, wearing a massive "I-don't-give-a-shit" expression like a badge of honor. "So what?" Leon grunted in his mind. "Good for him. Want a cookie?"
Ethan shrugged, wiping his face with a towel that smelled vaguely like old socks."Pfft. Big shots, whatever. That's not my problem."
He tossed the towel over his shoulder and grinned like an idiot."I'm not going there to get revenge or conquer the school or whatever heroic dumbass shit people think of. I'm just gonna graduate... quietly."
He threw up finger quotes around 'quietly' for extra drama."And besides," Ethan added with a smug tilt of his head, "that psycho third-year'll graduate soon anyway, right? Sooo... not my problem."
Coach sighed heavily, shaking his head like he was dealing with a particularly dumb puppy.
"Yeah, that's true," Coach admitted, crossing his arms tighter."But that don't mean you're in the clear, dumbass."
Ethan blinked, towel halfway to his face."Huh?"
Coach leaned in a little, voice low and grim."There's another one. A second-year transfer. Some freak who joined not long ago — and in his first goddamn week, he beat down third-years and first-years like he was swatting flies."
A long, uncomfortable silence stretched between them.
Leon, back in Ethan's head once again the I don't give damn Face "whatever like this bully the weak kids can stop me khehaha"
Ethan gave a silly grin and a shaky thumbs-up. "Heheh... yeah, no problem. If things go south, I'll break the sound barrier getting the hell outta there."
He blinked, pointing a hesitant finger at Coach. "Wait... hold up," Ethan said, his voice creeping with curiosity. "What about the almighty third-years too?!"
Coach snorted like he found Ethan's naivety physically painful. "No, dumbass. The third-year stopped him. One punch. Lights out. BAM." He even mimed a little uppercut for extra effect.
Ethan whistled low under his breath."Whoa..."
Leon's buzzed in Ethan's mind, deadpan as ever "Man, these guys are living a fucking shonen anime out there."
Coach smirked slightly, warming up to the story. "After that, they became friends. Now the second-year's basically that third-year bastard's second-in-command."
Ethan's eyes bugged out like dinner plates."What? That's the weirdest goddamn friendship I've ever heard of."
In the back of Ethan's mind, Leon popped up again, face blank and dead inside."Is this one of those orthodox martial arts novels? You know... 'true friendship forged by clashing fists' bullshit?"
Leon did a dramatic pose in Ethan's mind, mimicking two meatheads punching each other midair and then becoming blood brothers instantly."'Bro, your punch... it spoke to my soul...'"Leon gagged afterward for good measure.
He barely held in his laugh, coughing into his fist."Man, that's some serious musclehead energy," he muttered under his breath.
Coach raised an eyebrow."You say something, brat?"
Ethan snapped to attention, hands behind his back like he was about to get court-martialed."No, sir! Only saying how cool and manly that is, sir!"
TO BE CONTINUED....