“How is she holding up?”
“Very well, all set to go.”
“Excellent, make sure she has transportation to the Academy, have some faculty staff keep an eye on her. We need to ensure she’s involved and integrated into the program as quickly as possible.”
Tyson Torstand sighed mildly annoyed, summer vacation was over, and it was time to go back to school. He knew time was running short when his parents sent him a new care package. Packed with all kinds of new gear and essential things like shampoo. His mom has been making his trunks and getting him new boots each year. Much to his chagrin. Typically Tyson will just lie and say he got them shipped from his old coach, since honestly saying your mom made doesn’t exactly strike fear into the heart of man. Still there was one thing that made him ready to go inside, and the one thing on his mind as he checked himself out in the bathroom mirror. Flexing his arm and admiring his physique. “Yeah, Old squad’s back together...” He muttered to himself. The squad being Open Palm, one of two fighting teams the Academy put together to compete in the highest level. His team has been solid, all three years his been there, they kept the Championship trophy. The team is largely unchanged from last year. So the hopes have been high amongst them that this was going to be another good year. Finally stopping with admiring himself in the mirror (He IS the Physical Specimen for a reason.) Tyson got dressed in black slacks and jacket the school has them wear as uniforms, with a white “Physical Specimen” t-shirt a fellow student made him last year underneath.
There is always a special spark in the air whenever school year comes around. Kimura Academy is truly a school that has the balance between letting the students have fun and keeping things in check. Plus the fighting competition has always been a major draw as well. It’s one thing to be able to see world class fighting tournaments in person. It’s another when the competitors of said competition were in your Science class. As Tyson left the dorms to get to the board to see what classes he had. He had various people coming up to him, some asking about the season ahead, asking for autographs, some of the girls asking if he was available tonight. Tyson took it all in almost sinful pride. Soaking it all in and talking trash about Closed Fist whenever possible. “Yeah trust me they don’t stand a chance. We’ve beaten them down so many times it’s not even fun anymore. It’s like work now.” Tyson bragged in his little tone, which somehow always made him sound even more arrogant without trying. “But hey they keep wanting to get their butts kicked. We’ll, and me especially, will happily keep kicking them.”