Chapter 178: The Girl behind the helmet
The changing room was small and functional. A crisp white training robe lay folded on the bench, a spare belt coiled neatly beside it.
Rohit changed quickly and stood before the mirror for a moment.
White belt.
He almost smiled. The last time he had worn one, it had been during his Yakuza initiation — back when the robe carried real weight and consequences. He had long since earned his black belt in that life. Wearing white again felt like putting on a costume he had already outgrown.
His predecessor had wanted this too, but never got the chance.
Now here he was — using this body to finally give it what it had always craved.
The irony wasn’t lost on him.
He tied the belt with practiced precision and stepped out.
The training floor had been rearranged. The three sections were cleared, and the students now sat in a wide ring around a central open mat. Ashish stood waiting in the middle with another student beside him.
Rohit walked forward.
Ashish gave him a curt nod. "You know the standard Japanese commands? We’ll start with judo."
Rohit thought for a moment.
"No. English is fine."
Ashish accepted it without comment and gestured toward the student beside him.
"This is Akhilesh. Green belt. He’ll be your opponent."
Rohit recognized him immediately , he was the same student who was wrapping his wrist earlier.
Ashish gave Akhilesh a light pat on the shoulder.
"Match his level. And be careful not to injure him."
Both men stepped onto the mat and took their positions.
Ashish raised his hand.
"Bow."
They bowed.
"Begin."
Akhilesh moved first. He lunged forward aggressively, one hand shooting for Rohit’s shoulder while the other seized his sleeve, aiming for a clean throw.
Rohit didn’t retreat far.
He stepped back with effortless grace, letting the grab miss by inches. Akhilesh adjusted instantly, surging forward again with more aggression.
This time, Rohit moved inside.
His movement was fast and fluid.
Before the dojo could even register the shift, he had already slipped past Akhilesh’s arm like a shadow. In one smooth motion, he circled behind his opponent. His arms wrapped around Akhilesh’s waist from behind, locking tight.
For a split second, the entire room held its breath.
Then Rohit lifted.
Akhilesh’s feet left the mat completely. His body rose almost horizontally in the air, muscles straining against Rohit’s unrelenting grip. With controlled, brutal power, Rohit drove backward and slammed him down.
WHAM!
The sound of the impact cracked through the dojo like thunder. The mats barely softened the force. Akhilesh bounced once before sprawling flat on his back, eyes wide, chest heaving as he stared at the ceiling in stunned silence.
Several students flinched. A few gasps broke the heavy quiet.
Ashish moved quickly, crouching beside him. "You alright?"
Akhilesh sucked in a sharp breath and slowly pushed himself onto his elbows. "I’m... fine," he rasped. "That was heavier than I expected."
Nervous laughter rippled through the room, but it died almost instantly.
Rohit stood tall in the center of the mat, breathing steady. He clicked his tongue softly, then offered a small, polite bow.
"Thank you for going easy on me, senior."
The words were respectful.
The faint, arrogant smirk on his lips was anything but.
The laughter vanished. The students exchanged uneasy glances. The white-belt standing in the middle of the mat no longer looked like a beginner.
Ashish rose slowly, studying Rohit with new intensity. He then turned toward the karate section.
"Sai."
A green-belt senior stepped forward, looking slightly uneasy after watching his friend get defeated. Rohit recognized him immediately. He was the same student who had openly commented on him earlier and the one he had personally wanted to test.
As Akhilesh stepped away, he leaned closer and whispered,
"Be cautious. He’s no rookie."
Sai’s gaze never left Rohit.
"Understood."
Sai stepped into the square and took his position.
Unlike Akhilesh, he did not rush. His feet settled into a balanced stance, hands raised, eyes fixed on Rohit’s center. The posture of someone who had already seen one surprise and had decided to approach the next carefully.
Ashish looked between them and gave the signal.
"Begin."
Sai advanced with measured steps while Rohit remained where he was.
The distance between them steadily closed.
When he judged it right, Sai launched a front kick toward Rohit’s midsection. The strike was clean, committed, and well-timed.
Rohit dipped underneath it.
Before Sai’s foot could touch the floor again, Rohit’s leg swept low across the mat in a single fluid motion.
Sai lost his balance instantly and crashed onto his back.
The collective intake of breath from the watching students was audible.
The match had lasted less than two seconds.
Sai stared at the ceiling in disbelief.
Rohit gave a polite bow.
"Thank you for the easy match, senior."
Laughter broke across the dojo.
Sai’s face darkened immediately. He climbed back to his feet before the laughter had fully died.
"Again," he said sharply. "That was a balance error."
Rohit shrugged.
"If you insist."
The laughter grew louder.
Ashish pressed two fingers against the bridge of his nose.
"Positions."
Both fighters returned to their starting positions.
"Begin."
Sai attacked the instant the command was given.
A straight punch came first, followed by a second.
He chained a low kick into a right cross and continued pressing forward without pause.
The combinations came fast and aggressively, the attacks of someone who had decided that hesitation was the reason for his earlier defeat.
Rohit slipped away from every strike. He wasn’t blocking. He wasn’t countering. He simply wasn’t where the attacks were landing.
Sai pressed harder.
The pace increased.
Punches and kicks flowed one after another as he attempted to overwhelm Rohit through sheer pressure. Students around the square leaned forward as the exchange continued.
The match was becoming one-sided in a way nobody had anticipated.
Sai was throwing everything he had.
Rohit was barely doing anything at all.
The frustration gradually became visible on Sai’s face.
He stepped in with another combination. A jab, a body punch, and a roundhouse kick followed in quick succession.
Every attack missed.
The murmurs spreading through the room reached his ears.
"Damn.. he is so fast."
"Our poor sai, sure had a hard time."
"Can’t believe it, he trained for two years and yet can’t hit a single hit."
His next combination came faster and with noticeably less control.
By now he was no longer fighting only Rohit.
He was fighting the growing embarrassment of having an audience.
Then he saw what looked like an opening..
Rohit had gradually drifted toward the edge of the square.
Sai’s eyes lit up.
"Got you."
Certain he had finally cornered him, Sai committed fully.
His side kick exploded toward Rohit’s chest with his entire body weight behind it.
Rohit stepped off the line at the last instant.
The kick swept past his ribs and cut through empty air.
Sai’s momentum carried him forward.
Before he could recover his footing, Rohit turned.
His body rotated sharply.
THUD.
His heel drove straight into Sai’s torso.
Sai stumbled backward several steps before crashing onto the mat.
Silence filled the dojo.
Rohit lowered his leg and offered another polite bow.
"Thank you again, senior."
The words were respectful.
The faint smile accompanying them was not.
Sai shot back to his feet.
"You—"
"Enough."
The single word cut through the tension.
Every student immediately straightened.
The murmurs vanished.
Even Sai froze.
Rohit turned toward the entrance.
A man stood there watching.
He was middle-aged, Japanese, and carried himself with an unhurried calm that immediately drew attention. The kind of presence that did not need to announce itself to be felt.
The dojo owner.
The sensei.
Beside him stood a student dressed in full kendo armor, a bamboo practice sword resting at her side.
At first glance Rohit assumed she was another senior disciple.
Then he looked more carefully.
She was a girl, roughly his age. The armor had made it difficult to tell at first, but once he adjusted for it the difference became obvious.
The moment her eyes met his, she froze.
Not from fear.
Not from uncertainty.
Simply frozen, as though she had forgotten where she was for a brief moment.
The reaction lasted only a second.
The sensei placed a hand on her shoulder.
She blinked and immediately straightened.
"You can do it," he said calmly.
"Yes, Sensei."
Her voice was steady.
The two approached the square together.
The sensei’s gaze settled on Rohit.
"I heard you requested one match from each discipline."
Rohit inclined his head.
"I did."
The sensei gestured toward the girl.
"My best kendo disciple."
She stepped into the square.
A blue belt was tied around her waist beneath the armor.
Whatever had happened at the entrance had already been buried beneath discipline. Her attention never left Rohit now.
Rohit accepted a bamboo practice sword from the equipment rack and took his position opposite her.
Around them, students shifted closer without being told.
The earlier amusement had completely disappeared.
The atmosphere felt different now, and everyone present sensed it.
Ashish stepped into the center of the square and looked between the two fighters.
Rohit settled into position, sword held loosely in his hands.
Across from him, the girl’s grip tightened slightly around her own weapon.
The dojo fell completely silent.
"Begin."
Ashish lowered his hand.
Neither moved immediately.
Rohit and the girl circled each other with measured steps, bamboo swords held forward as the distance gradually disappeared between them. Her eyes never left him. Rohit’s expression slowly lost its casualness as he studied her stance and footwork.
She was good.
Very good.
The moment they entered range, both moved.
CRACK!
The bamboo swords collided.
A second clash followed immediately.
Then a third.
The pace accelerated rapidly as attacks and counters flowed one after another. The girl struck first, aiming for his wrist. Rohit redirected the attack and answered with a strike toward her shoulder. She stepped aside before it landed and returned another attack toward his head.
CRACK!
The sound echoed through the dojo.
Neither gained an advantage.
Students who had expected another quick victory gradually stopped whispering.
The exchange continued.
The girl pressed forward aggressively, forcing Rohit to give ground while he studied her rhythm. Her attacks were disciplined and efficient, never wasting movement. Every opening he tested vanished before he could exploit it.
For the first time since entering the dojo, Rohit found himself enjoying the fight.
Then his injured hand reminded him it existed.
A sharp ache traveled through his fingers as another collision rattled his grip.
His expression tightened slightly.
The repeated impacts were beginning to accumulate.
The girl noticed.
Her pressure immediately increased.
The attacks came faster now.
Rohit adjusted and matched her pace, but every clash sent another pulse of pain through his hand. His mind remembered the techniques perfectly, yet the injury and pressure prevented him from applying them with the same confidence he normally would have.
CRACK!
CRACK!
The dojo had fallen completely silent.
Even Ashish was watching without blinking.
Another exchange followed.
Then another.
Neither side willing to retreat.
Finally, the girl committed to a direct attack toward his head.
Rohit stepped inside the strike instead of retreating with clean block.
The sudden movement caught her off guard.
Their swords locked together.
Rohit gained an advantage as he slid his grip along the shaft, reaching the end of the hilt of the wooden sword.
The distance between them vanished.
Both pushed for control.
The pressure shifted.
A fastening on her helmet slipped loose.
Neither noticed.
The next collision twisted their weapons apart.
The helmet came free and dropped onto the mat.
The fight stopped instantly.
Long dark hair spilled over her shoulders.
Silence filled the dojo.
Dozens of students stared.
Rohit lowered his sword slightly as he finally saw her face. Never in his life he thought to meet her at this place.
