Chapter 43: A Gift?
A Gift?
"And that will be it for today’s lesson. If you feel like you’re too injured to go to your next lesson, go to the infirmary, but make sure you collect a slip so that you can be excused for coming late to your class." She said, and Mike was a bit surprised by her tone.
During the ’lesson’, it felt like she’d eat him if he looked at her wrong. Now, though, he felt like he was looking at the same disheveled woman he saw in their storage room who seemed too casual to be bothered by anything.
Moreover, the snake around her neck seemed to relax when this was the case, making him wonder what that was about.
’Weird.’ He scratched his head and looked at his fellow students, most of whom were groaning and grunting as they dragged their battered bodies out of the training hall.
Mike was about to follow suit, intending to make use of that brief period of time he had between each class to get there without being late. However...
"Mike, a moment of your time?" He froze and turned to look at Masha, who was walking towards him calmly. However, he could feel the underlying sense of curiosity in her gaze.
"Yes?" He tilted his head curiously as he watched her, managing to keep his gaze respectful this time.
When she reached him, she gave him a look over and scoffed, but it was more with surprise than condescension.
"You’re quite durable." She commented.
"Uh... thanks?" He gave an awkward smile and rubbed his neck, unsure of where this was going. He noticed that quite a few of the exiting students were watching him, but like he’d done every time until now, he just ignored them unless they confronted him.
"Sigh. You don’t know how to fight, don’t you?" Mashe finally decided to say what she was thinking, and Mike huffed.
"Oh really? What gave it away?" He asked dryly, and Masha raised a brow.
"Don’t get sassy with me, kid. I’m being serious here." She shook her head. "Your physique–to put it simply–is immaculate. You may be small, but your muscles, tendons, and pretty much all the visible and probably invisible physical aspects of your being are honed beyond what is normal for your age and level of power." Hearing this, he was a bit surprised by the compliment.
"However, your combat skills are downright horrid." She shook her head.
’Thought so.’ Mike hummed and scratched his head. "Well, yeah? I thought we had already established this." He said with a shrug.
"Yeah, and I’m concerned." She sighed. "Because looking at you, I have two working theories. Either the family you came from neglected your combat training so badly that you only know how to move like a beast, or your talent for combat is so abysmal that this is the best you could achieve after so long. Both of these theories sound outlandish, but that’s how I see it." She explained, and Mike was taken aback for a moment. He wanted to refute, but then he paused.
’Where could she be going with this?’ He thought. He didn’t know why, but something told him to let her continue her train of thought.
"And if it were any of the two?" He asked, and Masha sighed like something she had been expecting was confirmed.
"Look, I can’t tell you what to do. At least, I can’t force you to do anything. Ultimately, it’s your life. However..." She lingered. "Your general well-being aside, it genuinely hurts to see such an incredible physique be wasted by your brainless movements." Mike’s eye twitched.
"Uh, okay. And?" He raised a brow, his annoyance palpable.
Masha didn’t seem to care, though, as she just shook her head again, making Mike THIS close to asking why she did it so much.
"Again, I can’t force you to do something you don’t wanna do, but..." She held up her watch and brought it close to his before he could react. As in, her hand moved near his faster than his brain could process.
He only knew she moved when his watch vibrated, and he blinked.
"Wha-" Before he could get his words out, Masha was already walking away.
"Check it out when you have the time. It’s something you can learn even if you utterly suck at close combat. Not that you have to, but you don’t strike me as overly stubborn, so... if you do check it out, meet me later if you have questions." She said while waving casually, and Mike stared at her retreating figure, resisting the urge to acknowledge the snake that was still staring at him.
’... Weird.’ He thought and looked at his watch. He tried to ignore the realization that Masha had effectively speed blitzed him just now and turned to leave the training hall. Their talk had barely lasted two minutes, so he was certain he could make it to his next class before he was seen as late.
’Still, what was the physical checkup meant to be?’ He questioned internally but shook his head as he walked at a brisk pace. There was no time to dwell on something he could just look up later.
***
Mike walked out of training hall C-3, looking slightly bored and dejected, yet determined.
The class–Martial Forms of the World–was certainly an interesting topic, and unlike Masha, the instructor actually did what they were there to do. Instruct the students.
However...
’He’s... pretty strict.’ Mike thought as he recalled how the lesson went.
Which was pretty bad, to be honest.
The beginning of the class started out well enough. They used half of the allotted time to do what was essentially a general talk on martial arts and what they represented in and out of battle.
His classmates–whom there were only 30 of–seemed pretty bored by the entire ordeal. However, Mike paid close attention and even asked a few questions throughout the entire thing, which earned him some looks, but he ignored them.
The instructor was happy to answer whatever question he had, and Mike thought that maybe he could perhaps end up on the guy’s good side by the time the class ended.
Then came the practical session.
Mike sighed as he recalled being barked at for virtually the entire class.
When he told the man that he didn’t know any Martial arts to speak of, he was FURIOUS.
He spent nearly five minutes berating Mike over so many things he lost count, and by the time it ended, the poor Lupine looked like he’d come out of a washing machine.
Moreover, it didn’t stop there, as when he asked them to show off their combat styles, he just asked Mike to perform basic things like putting up his guard or setting his stance.
Two things he had no clue on how to achieve.
Needless to say, the remainder of the class was pretty bad, to say the least.
Despite this, though, Mike wasn’t discouraged for a single reason.
The instructor didn’t completely write him off.
Whenever he seemed to be messing up–which was all the time–he would still take the time to correct Mike and point out what he was doing wrong.
A single class wasn’t enough, and what Mike learned was too little to be applied in actual combat, but he was indeed learning, a fact that was further pushed when the instructor remarked under his breath as the class ended and Mike was leaving.
"At least he learns fast."
That was enough motivation for Mike, as it proved that he wasn’t TOTALLY hopeless.
The thing is, Mike didn’t know that the instructor didn’t buy his story about not knowing any form of martial arts simply because, well...
He was improving at a visible rate.
That passing remark by the man was due to him thinking that Mike was just insanely rusty, and that he’d regain his ’real’ skill later.
But Mike didn’t know that, and chances are that he wouldn’t figure it out either.
Moving on, Mike walked to his next course venue, which was in Ability Wing A-2 which luckily wasn’t too far away.
The place was an open arena with stands and everything. It looked simple, but his senses picked up the large amount of machine sounds under the structure.
When he arrived, he already saw a few people there in the main arena which was decently big. Enough to cater to at least 40 people.
Among the few people already there, there was a single man who sat down cross-legged in the center of the arena with his eyes closed. He seemed to be meditating.
Mike decided not to linger and walked forward, deeming it best to greet the man he assumed was his instructor, based on the feeling of danger he got from looking at him, which was... quite a lot.
’He reminds me of the Vice Principal.’ Mike thought as he got close.
However, as soon as he did, he felt himself being observed despite not being looked at, giving him a sense of deja vu as the man was somehow watching him.
What’s more, the man turned to him a second later and opened his eyes which, to he honest, took Mike be surprise.
Totally Grey irises.
"Interesting body you have there." He said, his voice so soft it was almost undescernible. Yet Mike knew he would have heard it perfectly even without his enhanced senses.
Moreover, despite the man ’looking’ at him, Mike felt no sort of observation directly from his eyes. In other words.
’He’s completely blind.’ Mike realized with genuine surprise.