He was staring at the ceiling again, the cold tatami beneath his back, a profound, crushing understanding of his absolute insignificance washing over him. The silence in the dojo was thick, broken only by the heavy thudding of Souma's own heart.
This time, there were no gasps of shock from the seniors, no accusations of cheating. Only a collective, hushed realization.
"Oh… Souma," a female senior murmured, her voice laced with genuine pity, a stark contrast to her earlier excitement. "He really did try, didn't he?"
"Yeah, he did," another boy agreed, his usual bravado deflated. He looked at the lying figure of Souma.
"Souma's not weak, you know? He's been training since he was a kid, aiming for the inter-school tournaments. He's good. Really good. And talented."
"So, what does that make… him?" A different senior muttered, nodding towards Toji, who stood with the same effortless calm, his hands still casually in his pockets. A tremor of self-doubt ran through the group.
"Years of our effort… and he made it look like nothing," another senior whispered, his voice tinged with awe and a hint of despair.
"I've never seen anything like it," a senior girl added, her eyes wide. "It's like he's not even human."
"Maybe we're all just small fish here," a burly third-year said, running a hand through his hair, his earlier confidence completely gone. The sight of Souma, who had always been a benchmark of strength and dedication among them, being effortlessly dispatched twice, was a blow to their collective ego.
It wasn't just Souma who felt inadequate; it was a shared, silent understanding of their own limitations compared to this indifferent freshman.
The Gorilla-senpai walked slowly towards Toji, his earlier amusement and exasperation replaced by a deep, almost solemn respect. He looked at Souma for a moment, then back at Toji.
"Fushiguro Toji," he said, his voice low but clear, carrying across the hushed dojo. "That was… truly remarkable. I've never seen anything like it in my life. I would be honored if you would consider joining our Judo club. With your skill, we could finally aim for the national championships."
Toji barely reacted. He simply gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, that neither accepted or denied, his expression remaining perfectly detached, a hint of boredom still lingering in his eyes.
His gaze drifted past the Gorilla-senpai, scanning the faces of the stunned seniors, a faint, fleeting amusement playing on his lips at their utterly bewildered expressions. They were still clinging to the idea of 'skill' and 'training.'
For him, it was just a series of simple deductions and effortless application of force. Like swatting a particularly annoying, but entirely predictable, fly.
Meanwhile, Souma, still sprawled on the mat, the full weight of his defeat crashing down on him, could only stare at the ceiling tiles. The cold reality was a physical ache in his chest.
'Was all that hard work I have done… useless? Worthless? My years of experience… My dedication… my entire life built around this sport… was it all for nothing?' he wondered, the question echoing in the hollow space of his mind. He felt a wet sensation on his cheeks, a cold trail sliding down his temples.
He quickly covered his face with his big, calloused arms, trying to hide the shame, but it was futile. The dam had broken. Tears, hot and thick, streamed from his eyes, soaking into the sleeves of his gi, a visceral outpouring of utter, absolute, and pathetic despair.
'Ah, So he is gonna mock me? I should have expected this. I would have done the same,' Souma wondered, the thought dull in his tear-filled mind. He heard soft footsteps approaching, stopping just before him.
Souma braced himself, certain it was the Kohai who wanted to revel in his absolute humiliation. He was ready to be mocked, his pride already ready to be shattered beyond repair.
"Souma," He heard a voice, gentle and familiar. It wasn't the detached drawl of the freshman, but the kind tone of one of the older seniors, someone he had trained alongside for years, someone who had encouraged him countless times.
He felt a warm, firm hand settle on his shoulder. Slowly, stiffly, he removed his arms from his face, his swollen, tear-streaked eyes finding the face of the senior kneeling beside him. He saw the same kind and encouraging expression he had always known, not a hint of mockery, only understanding and quiet support.
The senior didn't say anything, simply knelt there, letting Souma weep openly on the mat.
Gorilla-senpai watched while his hand remained on Souma's shoulder, his expression softened, allowing Souma the space to process his devastating loss.
Seeing that gentle, unwavering encouragement from his peer seemed to touch something deep within Souma, a spark of self-awareness cutting through the despair.
"Sorry, for losing Sepai," he apologized while tears didn't show any sign of stopping, the club room was silent as everyone laid attention to him, he was their own friend and junior. They know him.
"Sorry, for losing, Senpai," he choked out, his voice rough and hoarse, though the tears showed no sign of stopping.
The club room remained utterly silent, every eye fixed on him. He was one of their own – a friend, a training partner. They knew his dedication, his struggles, his aspirations. They watched him with varied expressions – pity, sympathy, awkwardness – but underlying it all was a quiet encouragement that wasn't hidden.
Taking a shaky breath, Souma pushed himself up to his knees, then slowly to his feet, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He looked around the room, meeting the gazes of the other seniors, then finally, his eyes settled on Toji.
"Sorry, everyone," his voice was still thick with emotion, but clearer now, "and Toji, for showing such a shameful display before you. I should have been more mindful and shouldn't have mocked you or shown that arrogance just because I thought you were weak." The words were rough, undeniably hoarse from crying, but they were steeped in a raw, unexpected sincerity.
The real emotions he was feeling right now, the humility born from utter defeat, were laid bare. An awkward silence settled over the room again, but this time it was filled with a sense of shared understanding, the encouragement in their expressions now openly visible.
"Yeah, finally getting your head straight, Souma," Gorilla-senpai said, stepping forward, a proud expression on his face that quickly turned serious. "But what are you doing lying around? Get up, and start training." His tone was firm, a clear command disguised as encouragement, causing a few muffled snorts from the seniors.
"Pfff-" came a few suppressed sounds, some almost bursting into laughter out of relief that the tension had broken and Souma seemed to be recovering, and amusement at the typical tough-love from their senior.
After things calmed down slightly, the atmosphere still charged but no longer suffocating with despair, Toji's voice cut through the residual quiet.
"Now, anyone else want another match?" He scanned the room, his eyes, still assessing, settling on the faces of the seniors. Their expressions stiffened instantly, the realization hitting them anew – Toji hadn't come for camaraderie; he was here for points.
But mixed with the apprehension was something else. A flicker of defiance, a spark of pure passion ignited within the Seniors.
They had seen Souma, one of their strongest, fall effortlessly twice. They knew, intellectually, that they would likely face the same fate. Yet, staring at the seemingly unbeatable freshman, a different kind of determination bloomed.
"Senpai," a senior spoke up, taking a hesitant step forward. "I want to compete. While 100k is a lot… I want to see the difference. Between me and Fushiguro-kun."
"Yeah, me too," another followed, stepping forward, his gaze fixed on Toji with a challenging glint. "I want to experience that myself."
"Even if I lose, I need to know what that feels like, the feeling of utter defeat." a third added, joining the small group forming a few steps ahead of the others.
There were four or five seniors who had now stepped forward, already anticipating a swift loss, but the fire within them burned brighter with passion than any fear.
They weren't motivated by a certainty of victory, but by a desperate need to test their limits against this Kohai, to touch the edge of his overwhelming strength, even if it cost them points.
They looked towards the Gorilla-senpai, their eyes silently seeking his approval, their determination clear.
Gorilla-senpai watched them, a thoughtful expression on his face. He saw the raw passion in their eyes, the courage it took to step forward knowing the likely outcome.
Behind this initial group, a few more tentative steps forward were taken, students inspired by the bravery of their peers. He saw their determination, their willingness to face overwhelming odds for the sake of growth and experience.
He turned to Toji, a new plan forming in his mind, recognizing both the immense strength of the freshman and the rekindled fighting spirit of his own club members.
"Fushiguro," he said, addressing Toji directly, a different kind of proposition forming on his lips."I have an Proposal."
***
Part 4, ends here. Lmao, I was thinking it was the end but turned out I have written more, the next one is really the end. I'll release it in 2-3 hours.
The Idea here I got from One Piece, Zoro V/S Mihawk, the moment Zoro lost to Mihawk and cried. I hope you get refrence or remember the scene. If not it doesn't matter.
Also Give me Pawaasaaaaaa... power Stone.