Hito sat on the edge of his bed, flipping his tournament slip between his fingers, letting the paper catch the glow of his lantern. The number printed on it stood out plainly—1.
He smirked.
No. 1. First rank. It was the best placement in the tournament, the kind that people usually fought for, debated over, treated like some grand accomplishment. But for Hito, it was just confirmation. He was already at the top before stepping into the ring, and everyone else was fighting to reach him. That was the difference.
The tournament hadn't even begun, yet the inn was alive with energy. Conversations overlapped in the halls, fighters whispered about matchups, others shared stories about past tournaments, bragging about victories that didn't mean much anymore. Some were stretching, some were sharpening their weapons, and a few were simply pacing, letting the weight of tomorrow settle in their minds.
Hito ignored it all.
He tossed his slip onto the table beside him, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small bundle of wrapped food, tying it up neatly before tucking it into his sleeve. He had spent most of the day in his room, not because he was anxious about the tournament but because he didn't see the point in talking about something that hadn't happened yet. Still, staying in one place for too long annoyed him, and since night hadn't fully settled in, he figured he might as well step outside.
The courtyard was lively. Fighters stood in loose circles, talking in low tones, while others practiced short drills in the open space. Some sat on stone benches, rubbing their wrists, their fingers moving absently against their knuckles like they were already imagining tomorrow's fights. There was tension in the air, but it wasn't heavy—it was the steady hum of anticipation before competition.
Hito walked through the area casually, noting familiar faces but not stopping for any of them. He wasn't here for conversation, just movement. Then, a voice called out from the side.
"Oi, Hito! Over here!"
He glanced toward one of the stone benches, where Mono stood, waving him over.
Hito exhaled lightly through his nose before heading in that direction.
Mono smirked, leaning against the bench, arms crossed. "Finally decided to step outside, huh?"
Hito shrugged. "Figured I'd let you see No. 1 before the fights start."
Mono laughed, shaking his head. "And you still won't shut up about it."
Hito grinned. "Why would I?"
Mono rolled his eyes. "Anyway, meet Renji."
He gestured toward the fighter sitting next to him, who until now had been silently watching the movement in the courtyard.
Renji had a quiet presence—not passive, but controlled. He was calm, steady, carrying the kind of confidence that didn't need to be loud. His posture was relaxed, but Hito could already tell he was fully aware of everything happening around him.
Hito sized him up for a moment, recognizing what kind of fighter he was dealing with.
Mono smirked. "You might wanna respect this one. He's the defending champion."
Hito raised an eyebrow. "Defending, huh?"
Renji nodded once, barely reacting to the introduction. "For now."
Hito grinned. "We'll see about that."
Mono laughed. "Oh, here we go."
Renji tilted his head slightly. "You're No. 1 this time?"
Hito smirked, flicking his tournament slip. "Best placement. I start at the top while the rest of you climb."
Renji exhaled, stretching his arms. "Being ranked first doesn't mean much until fists start flying."
Hito chuckled. "It means plenty. It means they already know I belong up there."
Mono shook his head. "Listen to this guy. Already claiming victory before the fights have even started."
Hito shrugged. "Not my fault you all have to work your way up while I'm already at the top."
Renji scoffed, shaking his head slightly. "The number is random. Confidence is good. Overconfidence is something else."
Hito leaned back against the stone railing, smirking. "Oh, I fully plan to back it up."
Mono chuckled. "If he wasn't this smug, he wouldn't be Hito."
Renji studied him for a moment, then smirked slightly. "Alright. Let's see if No. 1 delivers tomorrow."
Hito grinned. "Believe me, you'll see soon enough."
The conversation flowed easily after that—playful jabs, exaggerated confidence, the usual back and forth before a tournament. It was familiar, expected, the kind of talk that kept things steady before the competition began.
Hito glanced up toward the sky, stretching once more before letting out a slow breath. Tomorrow would be fun.
But for now, let No. 1 enjoy his moment.