Friday arrived with an energy that felt different from the previous days. Kai could sense it the moment he woke up—a sharpness to the morning light, a clarity to his thoughts that hadn't been there before. Tomorrow night, all the preparation and speculation would give way to reality.
The school hallways buzzed with anticipation that bordered on electric. Students who'd never shown interest in boxing were suddenly experts on fighting techniques and match predictions. Teachers struggled to maintain classroom focus while half their students checked their phones for updates about Saturday's event. Even the administration seemed to have given up on pretending the fight wasn't happening.
Kai found himself moving through it all with a strange sense of detachment. The constant attention that had felt overwhelming earlier in the week now seemed like background noise. His mind was focused on more immediate concerns—the final training session that evening, the technical adjustments he needed to make, the mental preparation required for stepping into a ring with someone who genuinely wanted to hurt him.
"You look different today," Yamamoto observed during their first period literature class. "Calmer, I guess."
"Do I?" Kai asked, though he'd noticed it too. The nervous energy that had been keeping him awake for the past few nights had transformed into something more controlled, more purposeful.
"Yeah. Like you've made your peace with whatever's going to happen tomorrow."
"Maybe I have."
It was true, Kai realized. Somewhere between Wednesday's anxiety and Friday's clarity, he'd stopped worrying about outcomes he couldn't control and started focusing on elements he could influence. His technique, his conditioning, his mental state—those were variables he could still affect with one more day of preparation.
The morning classes passed more smoothly than they had all week. Kai found himself actually paying attention to lessons instead of being distracted by fight-related thoughts. It was as if his mind had compartmentalized Saturday's challenge into a separate category that didn't need constant monitoring.
During the lunch break, he was surprised to find his usual table occupied by Emi, who was supposed to be in her own cafeteria with the other second-year students.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, settling into the seat across from her.
"Checking on my big brother before he does something that might get him killed," she replied with characteristic directness. "You've been so focused on training all week that we haven't really talked about what you're actually planning to do tomorrow."
"I'm planning to step into a boxing ring and try not to embarrass myself."
"That's not what I mean, and you know it." Emi's expression was serious in a way that reminded Kai she was more perceptive than most adults gave her credit for. "I mean, what's your actual strategy? How are you going to handle fighting someone who's better than you in almost every way?"
It was a fair question, and one that Kai had been considering throughout the week. Traditional strategy would suggest trying to neutralize Daichi's advantages through superior conditioning or technical innovation. But Uncle Hiroshi and his team of instructors had made it clear that three days of training couldn't overcome years of experience.
"I'm going to make it ugly," he said finally.
"What does that mean?"
"It means I'm not going to try to outbox him or out-technique him. I'm going to try to turn it into the kind of fight where experience matters less than determination."
"And you think that gives you a better chance?"
"I think it gives me a chance, period. If I try to fight his fight, using his preferred techniques and patterns, I lose badly. If I can make him fight my fight—whatever that turns out to be—then maybe things get interesting."
Emi was quiet for a moment, processing his explanation. "You know, there's something I've been wondering about this whole situation."
"What?"
"Why now? I mean, you've been dealing with Daichi's harassment for years without doing anything about it. What changed this week that made you decide to finally fight back?"
It was the same question everyone kept asking, and Kai still didn't have an answer he could share without revealing the truth about his regression. How could he explain that he'd already lived through ten years of consequences for choosing passivity over action?
"I guess I got tired of being the kind of person who watches bad things happen and doesn't try to stop them," he said.
"But you've never been that kind of person. You've always cared about other people, always tried to help when you could."
"Caring and helping aren't the same as fighting. Sometimes problems require more direct solutions."
"And you think beating up a bully is a direct solution?"
"I think showing that bullies can face consequences might encourage other people to stand up for themselves."
Emi studied his face with the kind of intensity that made Kai uncomfortable. She had an uncanny ability to see through explanations that satisfied other people, to identify the gaps between what he said and what he actually meant.
"There's something else, isn't there?" she said finally. "Something you're not telling anyone about why this fight is so important to you."
"Like what?"
"Like maybe you know something about what happens if Daichi isn't stopped. Something that makes this feel urgent instead of just principled."
The observation was so close to the truth that Kai felt his breath catch. Had he really been that transparent about his motivations, or was Emi just better at reading him than everyone else?
"Maybe I just don't want to spend the rest of high school wondering what might have happened if I'd had the courage to try," he said carefully.
"Maybe. Or maybe you're fighting for reasons that are bigger than just high school social dynamics."
Before Kai could respond, their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Takeshi, who looked unusually excited about something.
"You need to see this," he said, pulling out his phone and navigating to a social media page. "Elite Boxing Academy posted something about tomorrow's fight."
The post was professionally produced, with high-quality photos and polished graphics that made it look like advertising for a major sporting event. The text described Saturday's exhibition as a "demonstration of proper training methods" and invited the local boxing community to witness "the importance of technical excellence in competitive boxing."
"They're really going all-out with the promotional angle," Emi observed.
"It gets better," Takeshi said, scrolling down to the comments section. "Look at some of the responses."
Most of the comments were exactly what Kai expected—supportive messages from Elite Boxing Academy students and dismissive predictions about how quickly he'd be defeated. But scattered among them were different kinds of responses.
"'Finally someone willing to stand up to these entitled bullies,'" Takeshi read aloud. "'Hope the kid gives them something to think about.'"
"'Been waiting years for someone to challenge the Elite Academy attitude. Win or lose, respect for trying.'"
"'Trained fighters picking on amateurs is pathetic. At least this one's fighting back.'"
"Interesting," Emi said. "Sounds like Elite Boxing Academy might not be as popular as they think they are."
"Or maybe people are just tired of seeing underdogs get crushed for entertainment," Kai suggested.
"Either way, it means you've got more support than just our little group," Takeshi pointed out. "Tomorrow night, you won't just be fighting for yourself."
The afternoon classes were relatively quiet, with most students seeming to save their energy for weekend fight-related activities. Kai found himself grateful for the temporary reduction in attention—it gave him space to mentally prepare for the evening's final training session.
As the final bell rang, he gathered his things with a sense of purpose that had been building all day. Tomorrow would bring the fight itself, but tonight was his last chance to refine techniques and address any remaining weaknesses in his preparation.
"Ready for the final push?" Yuki asked as they walked toward the exit together.
"As ready as someone can be for something they're not actually ready for."
"You keep saying that. Do you really feel unprepared, or is that just nerves talking?"
Kai considered the question as they made their way through the afternoon crowd. Three days ago, he'd felt completely out of his depth, like someone who'd accidentally wandered into a situation far beyond his capabilities. But the intensive training had built something that might pass for competence, at least from a distance.
"I feel like I know what I'm supposed to do," he said finally. "Whether I can actually do it under pressure remains to be seen."
"That's progress, right?"
"It's definitely progress. The question is whether it's enough progress."
The gym was packed when they arrived, with more people than Kai had ever seen in the facility. Word about tomorrow's fight had apparently drawn spectators who wanted to observe his final preparation session. Uncle Hiroshi was coordinating the crowd with the kind of practiced efficiency that suggested he'd dealt with pre-fight attention before.
"Popular guy," Coach Yamamoto said as Kai began changing into his training gear. "Half the amateur boxing community is here to get a preview of tomorrow's show."
"No pressure or anything."
"Actually, this is good practice. Tomorrow you'll be fighting in front of an audience, so you might as well get used to performing under observation."
The training session was structured differently from previous days. Instead of focusing on new techniques or major adjustments, Uncle Hiroshi had designed it as a final review of everything they'd worked on—a way to ensure that Kai's preparation was solid and his confidence was intact.
"Today we're not learning anything new," Hiroshi announced to the assembled crowd. "We're just making sure everything we've learned is ready for application."
They worked through defensive drills, combination sequences, and footwork patterns that had become familiar over the past week. Kai found himself moving with a fluidity that surprised him—the techniques felt natural now, integrated into his movement in ways that didn't require conscious thought.
"Better," Sensei Watanabe observed during a break between rounds. "You're not thinking about technique anymore—you're just fighting."
"Is that good?"
"It's essential. In the ring tomorrow, you won't have time to think about proper form or textbook combinations. You'll have to trust your training and react instinctively."
The session concluded with a final sparring round against Kenji Suzuki, who'd been instructed to use Daichi's preferred style and techniques. It was Kai's last chance to practice against the kind of opposition he'd face tomorrow, and he tried to make the most of it.
The round was competitive in ways that surprised both fighters. Suzuki pushed forward with the aggressive, pressure-based approach that Elite Boxing Academy favored, but Kai was able to counter effectively and even land some clean shots of his own.
"Not bad," Suzuki said as they touched gloves at the end of the round. "If you can fight like that tomorrow, you might actually make things interesting."
"Interesting enough to avoid complete humiliation?"
"Interesting enough that people will remember it was a real fight instead of just a training demonstration."
As they cleaned up the training area and prepared to leave, Uncle Hiroshi gathered everyone who'd been involved in Kai's preparation for a final team meeting.
"Tomorrow night, all the preparation and speculation stops," he said. "Whatever happens in that ring will be decided by what Kai's learned this week and how well he can apply it under pressure."
"Any final advice?" Kai asked.
"Trust your training. Stay calm. And remember that courage isn't about not being afraid—it's about doing what needs to be done despite being afraid."
"What if what needs to be done is beyond what I'm capable of?"
"Then you do your best with what you have and let the results speak for themselves."
The walk home with Yuki was quiet, both of them lost in thoughts about what tomorrow would bring. The week of intensive preparation was over, and now there was nothing left but waiting for Saturday evening to arrive.
"How do you feel?" Yuki asked as they approached the train station.
"Like I'm about to find out what I'm really made of."
"Any predictions about what that might be?"
"Ask me again on Sunday."
As Kai settled into his seat on the train, he reflected on the week that had transformed him from a casual boxing observer into someone preparing for actual competition. Win or lose, tomorrow would answer questions about courage, determination, and the price of standing up for principles.
The only question now was whether the answers would be ones he could live with.
One more day until he found out.