Peter's POV
One week ago, if you had told me I, would be sparring with multiple people and in different styles, I would have said, " Bro! Why would I spar with multiple people, one after the other, when I can just have a single sparring partner?", but now, I needed multiple sparring partners. When I first joined the "Raijin Dojo", I was busy getting my ass kicked, but due to my insane talent , which might be a result of one of traits, and abuse of STING, I was improving at a insane rate. Anyways, let me describe my sparring in the dojo with other people, since I upped my training after I awakend my power, with Minato-Sensei's approval.
The mats had the scent of sweat and work. I stood in the center of the dojo, barefoot, wrapping the bandages tighter around my knuckles. And my first opponent was standing right across me and Minato-Sensei began the match.
Jordan Knight, bobbed and weaved as I attempted a spinning kick. He was a boxer with wild dreadlocks and a laugh that did not reflect how many punches he had absorbed. Each time I hit him, he smiled even bigger. It was as if the hurt energized him. I think he might be a masochist, but who am I to judge? "You're crazy," I grumbled.
"Little bit," he replied, dodging under my next kick and poking me in the ribs with a snap of lightning speed. Then he came at me, gloves snapping as he rushed with a weaving jab-cross-hook combo. I stepped back, parried the jab with my left, slipped under the hook, and drove my shoulder into his sternum.
He laughed — of course he did — and twisted into a tight uppercut.
I caught it on my forearm, wincing at the power, and countered with a Muay Thai low kick to his lead leg. His stance buckled for half a second — just enough.
I pivoted into a capoeira meia lua de compasso, the spinning heel barely grazing his temple. It staggered him, and I darted in with an MMA double-leg takedown, crashing us both to the mat. "Gotcha," I breathed. "Yup, but you ain't gonna win the next one so easily." he said, still grinning as he tapped out.
I took a quick break and drank a bottle of STING, from my inventory when nobody was looking, and I was as good as new. Seeing, I had recovered, Minato-Sensei started the match between me and Carter Grey. My arms buzzed each time I blocked. He wasn't flashy. He was lethal. He didn't wait.
His opening was a brutal roundhouse kick, which I checked with my shin — pain flaring up like a hot iron. He followed it up with a teep — a front push kick aimed at my solar plexus. I sidestepped and swept my staff up from the mat.
Sojutsu time. I spun the bo in a tight arc, intercepting his next strike, then jabbed forward with a tsuki — the straight thrust. He blocked with his forearm, but I redirected with a fumikomi geri — a stomping side kick — driving him back. Carter's knee lifted again. Another kick incoming.
I swept low with the bo, tripping his base leg. He fell like a tree, hitting the mat with a grunt. I leveled the staff at his chest, breathing hard. He gave me a single nod. Respect. Huh, I took him down now. Noice. But seriously can't this guy talk? Last time we both had a tie and he atleast gave me advice but this time, he's quite. I wonder why? This time I wasn't too tired. And my next opponent was Blake Logan.
He.... was different from the others, to say the least . Judo was his sport, but he didn't seem concentrated. His eyes wandered. Like he was somewhere else. Still, when we trained, muscle memory kicked in — I found myself on my back more than once. Even distracted, he was trouble.
The match started and Blake made the first move. He moved lazily, like none of this mattered, but his harai goshi — the sweeping hip throw — sent me crashing to the floor before I could blink. Damn, he was fast. We circled again. This time, I baited him. Faked a jab-cross, then lunged low.
Blake moved for a seoi nage — a shoulder throw — but I turned with him mid-move, hooking my leg around his from the outside and using kosoto gake — a minor outer hook — to flip him instead.
We landed in a scramble. I flowed into a triangle choke, legs locking around his neck and arm. He struggled — shocked — but eventually tapped out. His eyes finally met mine. "Didn't expect that," he said."Neither did I.". We had a good laugh and he helped me up. I gulped down another bottle of STING and got ready for my next match. I think, I have an addiction. Anyways my next match started.
And my opponent was, Marcus Trey. He spoke hardly at all. Hell he hardly even glanced at anyone and he barely talked with Sensei. Dark complexion, curly hair, sad eyes. His kickboxing was structured, but not burning. He moved like a man who bore something heavy within. Poor guy. You know what, I'mma hang out with all these guys, once the match ends. Marcus stepped forward in silence.We bowed.
He exploded first — a flurry of kickboxing jabs, low kicks, and a spinning back fist. I blocked, dodged, absorbed, trying not to strike back too hard. He wasn't trying to beat me. He was trying not to break. Okay, something is wrong with this dude, I think he really needs someone to talk to. Anyways, I let the staff drop. It was just me andmy trusty old fists now.
Marchs jabbed again,but I slipped inside, clinched, and delivered a tight MMA knee strike to the body, followed by a quick sweep takedown. We both hit the mat. He struggled, trying to bridge out. I pinned him with side control, then softened my hold — not smothering, but grounding. Finally, he gave up. Damn, these guys were good. After the spar, I was relaxing with the boys and asked them, "Wanna hang out in the mall, after the class?" and the answers I got ranged from "Let's gooo!!"(Ma boi, Marcus), a nod(Robo-man,Carter), a simple "Sure"(Cool guy?,Blake) and finally an unsure "Ok"(Marcus. This guy seems to have lots of issues).
Once classes had finished and we were leaving, a beautiful woman with long, flowing red hair and piercing blue eyes walked into the dojo. She had a lean, athletic build, and she was wearing casuals. Hmm, why does she seems familiar. I feel like I should know about her. I nudged Jordan who was walking with me, grabbing his attention and asked,"Yo, you got any clue who the hot lady was?". And he replied saying, "Not anyone I know, cause if I had ever met someone hot like her, I won't forget them. So maybe they want to join the dojo. Who knows, who cares?". Well, he was right, who knows, who cares.
Minato's POV
The moment I and Kushina saw Peter, I didn't see anything special about him. He was just an ambitious kid who lost a loved one and didn't want to lose anybody else. He wanted to improve himself and that's why I let him spar with the others, even though an amateur shouldn't be allowed to fight every student. Peter took to fighting like a kid learning how to walk. Shaky and unstable at first, but becoming better with each fall. His MMA style was rough but developing, fashioned from countless hours of agony and determination. What singled him out, though, was not his ability. It was his determination and insane stamina.
He would be tired one moment and after a short break, he would be back up, as good as new. Even if he got hurt whole doing a move in the wrong way, he won't let it stop him. After making sure the injury is healed, he would continue back up, as if it was nothing. His healing speed was unnatural, but not impossible in this world. He was also pretty adaptable as he learnt while fighting too. In his spars with each boys, Peter adjusted to all of them. He danced with Jordan, traded sheer strength with Carter, wrestled with Blake like a specter in a grapple match, and when he sparred with Marcus… he restrained himself just enough.
When he won in the matches, he didn't gloat saying how a newbie was defeating people who have much more training than him. His humbleness was what made Peter different. He wasn't allowing his victories to cloud his vision and that is a very important skill to have, because the day you grow arrogant and feel safe is the day you have forfeited in the game known as life. A sense of security is one of the greatest enemies of man, as it reduces your drive to improve yourself. While your relaxing, someone who is anxious will definitely overtake you and by the time you realise what happened, you most probably would have lost, or be unable to catch up, being only able to settle for second place at best. Peter, he is training like he is preparing for something he isn't sure about, but is afraid of. For him to reach his true potential, he must identify what it is on his own. I just hope he doesn't change too much. Oh! Someone's here. Wonder who that is?
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And done! Hey y'all, it's your friendly author here. Hope you like this chapter. I completely forgot the dates cause I don't use calenders during summer holidays, cause I don't want to see, each day just going by. So sorry for the last minute update. Hope you guys enjoy. No rest for the wicked guys.
Ciao.