Splitting the sky with its sharp movements, a dragonfly flitted through the vast and expansive blue. Passing in front of the punctuating white clouds, the insect's slender body moved fast; desperate wings vibrating either side of it.

The vast and expansive world reflecting whole in its bulbous eyes, the creature dived back down to earth. Opening up beneath it, an enormous cityscape stretched from horizon to horizon. Skyscrapers and monolithic buildings jutted up into the air, like fingers accusing the heavens.

Sweeping through the streets, vibrant colours flashed past the insect. Bright yellow from road signs melded with greens and reds from traffic lights, while below a rainbow of cars blurred into one.

At the end of the street, taking up residence in the middle of a three street intersection, a large highschool campus dominated the visuals.

A dull thumping sound filled the inside of the vacant gym. Taking on a regular rhythm, the beat of the noise brushed past the shimmering metal of the various machines and exercise paraphernalia.

The sole occupant of the empty space bounced in place, weaving gracefully on the spot. A wet slap accompanied the pounding sound, as his bare feet struck the floor. Strapped around his ankles were a pair of training weights.

Jimmy Owens felt the force of his strike disperse across the surface of the sandbag as he threw a left hook.

Clinging to his sweat-soaked forehead, sharp locks of hair glistened with moisture; their tips pointing down at his hard and focussed grey eyes.

Continuing to pound away at the bag, Jimmy felt the burn of exhaustion spread through the muscles of his arms. Pausing before a straight right, he clenched his bandage-wrapped fist tighter as a tremble of strain pulsed up his tendons.

Just as he was about to launch his next punch, however, a piercing ringing cut through the air. The bell signalling the start of the school day sounded.

Snatching up a towel to wipe away his sweat, the young man dabbed at his face. Removing the weights strapped to his legs, he dumped them alongside the towel into his sports bag before slinging on his uniform jacket.

Exiting the gym, he emerged into a wide hallway. The space was slowly growing more and more saturated with human bodies as other students swarmed into the space.

Striding through the tide of his classmates, Jimmy watched as a number of them moved out of his way, nervous expressions gripping their faces.

Fastening his jacket all the way up, he toyed with the decorative pin clipped to his collar. It was bright silver and took the shape of the Roman Numeral "IV".

Everyone in Tōdō Academy knew what that meant.

Some, however, cared more than others.

Clapping one hand against the shorter boy's shoulder, Nick Slater raised his voice in greeting. "I see you hit the gym early again. Gotta work hard if you want that number one spot this year."

Attempting to ignore Nick, Jimmy continued on his way and stuffed one hand into his pocket. The other still gripped his gym bag.

"Still... Doesn't matter how good you are on your own. If you don't get some good members on your team, there's no way you're gonna give the Tae Kwon Do Club a run for their money."

Shooting a harsh glare up at the young man, Jimmy's eyes narrowed maliciously.

Nick flinched back and broke into a nervous smile. Holding his hands up beside his face, he projected a submissive air. "Sorry, sorry. Just saying how it is."

Jimmy, still yet to speak, took a second to observe the other boy's appearance. Nick was a sturdy and solidly built young man of just over six foot. Bleached blonde hair was combed out of his face and dark eyes stared out from beneath brown eyebrows.

Grunting slightly, Jimmy turned his attention away from Nick and continued down the hallway.

Chasing after him, Nick raised his voice slightly so that he could be heard over the parting crowd. "I mean, don't get my wrong. You're good on your own. Shit, I'm surprised you're not on the Executive Council. Like, I know the Boxing Club didn't win last year, but neither did Muay Thai, and Aat's the Treasurer. Not to mention Ami-"

Nick was cut off as a harsh shout erupted from within the depths of the crowd. Expecting a fight, the numerous bodies crushed closer together so that everyone could get a good look.

Peering over the heads of the other students, Nick half-scoffed at what he saw. "Looks like those NTC punks are back."

Athapy clinging to his face, Jimmy tilted his head so that he could look through the crowd.

A tall young man, his face covered in piercings, held a younger student by the scruff of the neck. His legs dangling into the air, the boy was held up and pressed against the wall.

"I told you before, you little fucker!" the delinquent shouted, his nose inches from the boy's face. "If you can't make good on your debt, I'll beat seven bells out'a ya'!"

"I'll... have your money by tonight..." the First Year protested. "Please... not... Not here! I'll get it for you!"

"Too late for the that, shitbag," the piercing-covered individual growled. Behind him, at least five other youths broke into smirks. Like him, none of them wore the Tōdō uniform.

Just as the delinquent was about to slam his fist into the boy's face, his concentration was broken by the sound of a calm voice.

"Can't you idiots just stay at your own school? You should know what's going to happen if you keep coming back here."

Jimmy had appeared in the midst of the gang. Hand still in his pocket, and gym bag still hanging over his shoulder, his face was set completely flat and deadpan.

"And what do we have here?" one of the thugs chuckled, turning towards Jimmy. "Should'a just left well enough along, you stupid fucker."

Placing one hand on his shoulder, the NTC student grinned.

Teeth flew into the air.

Turning and striking out at the same time, Jimmy had thrown a left into the other boy's face, smashing out all of his front teeth. His dentistry ruined, the thug tottered backwards and passed out.

"Don't touch me. Ever."

While Jimmy was preoccupied with addressing his unconscious friend, another of the delinquents lifted a baseball bat and moved to crack the boxer over the back of the head. The weapon, however, found nothing but empty air.

Ducking down, Jimmy crouched low to the floor and span on the ball of his foot. Using the rotation of the turn to build momentum, he stepped in close to his assailant and struck out again with his left fist. Feeling his knuckles crunch into the young man's ribs, he followed through with the swing and blew the thug across the hallway with the force of the hit.

"Now..." Jimmy said, standing up straight and locking eyes with the leader. "Put the kid down and get out of here. If you don't, I'll be sending you out in an ambulance."

Dropping the freshman, the young man crumpled his pierced features into an amused grin. "You think you can scare me, you third-rate piece of shit?" he laughed. Reaching into his back pocket, he whipped out a switchblade and held it in front of him. "I'll carve you up like a Christmas turkey, you limp-dick fu-!"

He never got to finish his sentence.

Swinging his gym bag down into the path of the knife, Jimmy knocked the weapon wide before again stepping in. Belting the thug with a left uppercut, he catapulted the pierced boy into the air with such force that his head slammed into the ceiling.

"Third-rate?" Jimmy muttered, fiddling with the pin fixed to his collar. "I'm the Captain of the Boxing Club, and Fourth-ranked fighter in the whole school. Next time, check who you're messing with beforehand. Or better yet, just stay away from Tōdō."

Founded in 1973, Tōdō Academy is a private institution, funded in its entirety by the Japanese billionaire Dōgen Takayanagi.

A so-called "Fighter's Paradise", the school has several branches the world over and attracts a wide variety of youths, who practice a vast array of styles and forms. From archery to Chinese Khenpo, every student enrolled in the Academy's roster specialises in at least one form of combat.

Rumour has it that, among the student body, there reside a number of individuals with abilities of a mystical persuasion.

Annually, each branch of the Academy hosts a contest by which the ruling student faction of the school is decided. A tournament unlike any other, the contest is full-contact and without rules. The use of weapons is even permitted, as long as they are used without the intent to outright kill.

The club that succeeds in conquering all others is appointed as the school's Executive Council; holding supreme power over the institution. They decide where money is spent, the appointment of teachers, the allocation of practice spaces. Even the suspension and expulsion of students is attributed to them.

However, only the elite of the elite ever move within touching distance of this prize.

Outside of club performance, participants are ranked both on the level of skill displayed and the number of bodies left in their wake. Those displaying exceptional results are ranked accordingly, from #20 upwards.

And only by having one of those in their number can a club hope to reach the height of the Executive Council.

"Shit man, you didn't have to hit him so hard."

Nick was crouched beside the unconscious leader of the NTC gang, looking up at Jimmy. One of his fingers reached out, as he started to poke one of the boy's eyebrow piercings.

Turning his attention down, Jimmy's face continued its running theme of apathetic distance. "He was asking for it."

"Oh was he?" Nick grabbed the unconscious delinquent's head and titled it up, moving the jaw to mimic the movements of speech. "Please scary boxer man. Please punch me in the face. Jhee wiz, I sure wish I could have brain damage."

Tutting, Jimmy turned away, just as Nick dropped the boy's head and pulled out a marker pen. "What are you doing?"

"Just my own form of justice," Nick muttered, midway through drawing a crude attempt at a penis on the thug's forehead. Beneath it, he scribed the word 'dickhead'. "They're going to wake up from what you did to them. Violence fades. This won't. At least not for a while. Permanent marker."

"You're an idiot."

"Don't pretend you don't love me." Nick winked. "And hey, believe it or not, I'm not just here to annoy you today."

"I dunno, you seem pretty annoying at the moment."

"I said just. Meaning I'm still going to annoy you, it's just lower on my list of priorities."

Jimmy turned back to Nick, just as the taller boy rose to his full height, and folded his arms across his chest. "So, what do you want?"

"S'not about what I want, Jimmy-buddy. It's 'bout what you want!"

"And what's that?"

"Members! For the Boxing Club? You remember our little chat a minute ago? You get some good guys on your team, and you could seriously make a run at winning the tournament this year!" He broke into a wide grin and hooked his arm around Jimmy's shoulders. "And I just so happen to know a guy that would be a great addition for you."

Jeremy Bowett sneezed once into a cupped hand and shook his head.

Whipping around his face, dusty blonde hair flicked up into messy wisps. Pale blue eyes stared up at the school building in front of him, ticking over the structure. Fixed to the wall outside of the school grounds was a large metal plaque that spelled out the name of the institution: "Tōdō Academy".

Tugging at the collar of the white shirt that he wore, Jeremy pulled an irritated expression. Out of every school he had attended, this was the only one that insisted on a mandatory uniform. He didn't like that. It made him feel restrained and restricted.

Suddenly, something caught his attention, out of the corner of his peripheral vision.

A group of girls passed him, striding through the gates of the school. Riding up their smooth thighs, matching tartan skirts revealed milky white skin, while tight jackets fitted neatly around their breasts.

Sniffing and scratching his nose, Jeremy broke into a grin and set off into the building.

"So he learned boxing in the Cadets?" Jimmy asked, walking through the hallway leading towards the First Year classrooms.

"Yeah," Nick confirmed, matching his fellow's stride. "Apparently his Dad is some kind of high-ranking mucky muck in the army. They moved around a lot, he went to a lot of different schools... But one thing that always stayed the same is he kept getting into fights. So in the end, his Dad stuck him in the Cadet program. Taught him boxing. From what I've heard, he's a featherweight."

"So he's fast."

Nick whistled between his teeth as he checked information from the messages on his phone. "Understatement. Apparently he hasn't been hit once, in all of his matches."

"So either he's good enough to join my team..." Jimmy began.

"Or the people he fought were nothing special," Nick completed. Glancing down at his dark-haired associate, he lifted an eyebrow. "You want to fight him and check?"

"Not so much fight," Jimmy reaffirmed. "Just check his reaction speed. If he can dodge my first punch, I'll draft him."

"And if not, he loses teeth..." Nick sighed, distaste etched across his face. "You at least gonna pay for his medical bills?"

"I haven't got that kind of money."

"Of course you don't..." Looking around, absent-mindedly, he clasped his hands behind his head. "You know, you're never gonna beat Hajime if you keep beating the shit out of your potential allies."

"If I can beat the shit out of them, then they're going to do dick all against Hajime. What's a few broken bones? It's a damn-sight better than getting killed."

Nick spotted the new student just as they strode through the door of the classroom. "There he is." He pointed to the crop of messy blonde hair, turned away from them. Jeremy hadn't noticed them enter the room. "Take it easy on him, will ya'?"

Taking little notice of his companion's plea, Jimmy made his way across the room. When he was within arm's reach of the freshman, he raised his voice. "Hey!"

Seemingly ignoring him, Jeremy didn't turn around.

Jimmy persisted. "Jeremy!"

Still no response. The blonde youth stood staring out of the window, paying no attention to the Boxing Club Captain currently stood behind him.

Jimmy's eye twitched. "You son of a bitch, you do not ignore me."

Without hesitating, the Senior dropped his gym bag and threw a punch with his right hand.

The strike, however, found nothing but empty air. Jeremy had vanished.

The boy had ducked down beneath Jimmy's line of sight and, in the process of turning around, stepped around the older boy and outside of his peripheral vision. Standing up, he reached out and silently tapped the Captain on the shoulder before wagging his finger from side-to-side.

The action struck a nerve with Jimmy. Turning, he gritted his teeth and raised a fist for a follow up attack.

Jeremy lifted his hands up beside his face and tilted his head to the side, avoiding the blow. Smiling, he shook his head and waved his hands to signal that he didn't want to fight.

"If you don't want to go, why didn't you turn around when I called you?" Jimmy asked, squaring his jaw.

Jeremy pulled a confused expression and raised one eyebrow. Pointing at the side of his head, he tapped on his ear several times.

When Jimmy didn't understand, he lifted one finger and pulled a notepad and pen from the inside pocket of his jacket. On it, he scribed a short message:

=I can't hear you=

"I think he's deaf..." Nick muttered, walking up behind Jimmy and narrowing his eyes.

"Then how did he dodge my punch? He didn't see me throw it. Shouldn't have known I was behind him."

Jeremy broke into a smirk, as he pocketed the notebook. Lifting one hand, he formed and fist and splayed his fingers three times, in a pulsing motion.

"He felt the beat of your footsteps as you walked up. And when your gym bag hit the floor. As for the punch... He probably felt it brush his hair, just before he ducked."

Jimmy smiled, feeling his cheeks distort as his mouth widened. "Which means he'll be even faster when he can see the person he's fighting." He locked eyes with the first-year. "You can read my lips right?"

Jeremy nodded.

"How would you like to join the boxing club?"

"We had five NTC students come on campus about an hour ago."

Leaning back in his chair, Hajime Nanjō (Executive Council Chairman and Captain of the Tae Kwon Do Club) had his feet up on the desk in front of him. His straight black hair hung around his face, the full fringe falling in locks around his dark eyes. He stared out of the window, the morning light falling upon his attractive features.

"So you sent someone from the Disciplinary Committee to deal with them?" he asked, airily. Momentarily, he flicked his eyes over his subordinate before returning his gaze to the window.

Aat Aromdee (Captain of the Muay Thai Club) stuck his hands into his pockets and leaned back against the wall behind him. His tan skin set his outline hard against the pale paint. "Didn't have to. By the time they got there, they'd already been taken care of."

"Let me guess..." Hajime mused. "Jimmy Owens again." Reaching up, he toyed with the silver pin, in the shape of the Roman numeral "I" fixed to his collar.

"More than likely, yes."

Hajime broke into a half-hearted sigh. "For God's sake... He can't keep going around like some kind of vigilante. There are rules for this kind of thing. If he wanted to deal with troublemakers he should have taken my offer to join the Council."

"You know how stubborn he is," Aat replied.

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Hajime hummed slightly to himself. "Well we can't just have him do whatever he wants..."

"You beat him at the tournament last year," Aat insisted. "Why not just deal with him yourself?"

Pulling his legs down off of the desk, Hajime leant forwards and tapped on the flat surface with the tip of his finger. "Despite what a lot of people sem to think, this isn't a dictatorship. And is it a crime to want to be liked? I don't want the student body seeing me going after another Club Captain."

"So what are you going to do?"

Hajime seemed to ponder the matter for a second. "Send one of the Red Feathers after him."

A notably nervous expression passed across Aat's face. "You're sure that's wise?"

"People are nervous around them already," Hajime explained, the corner of his mouth curling into a sly smile. "They always have been. Plus, so few of them are actually members of active clubs, which means most of them aren't actually ranked. So even if one of them were to attack Owen, it wouldn't be linked directly to me."

"But they're notoriously difficult to control," Aat persisted. "They don't like following the rules at the best of times, and you'll be giving one of them free reign to run around loose. What if it comes back to bite you?"

"If things get down to the wire, and they go on a rampage, I can always step in and deal with them myself," the Chairman said, his smile growing wider. "And then I'll be the hero of the school again. The number one comes in to deal with the big bad monster, that everyone was already scared of."

"So you're obviously going to need to pick one that you're confident you can beat, if they go off the rails."

In response to Aat's statement, Hajime broke into a slight chuckle. "Please..." His voice bore an unwavering confidence to it. "I'm Number One for a reason. There isn't anyone that I can't beat."

Jeremy broke into a smile and nodded. Again scribbling into his notepad, he held up the paper for Jimmy to look at.

=When do I start?=