XLVIII Shouto: Wall

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It's a silent walk to the dirt field.

I'm not in the mood for pleasantries, and Endeavor wants to get straight to training. I think this is the first time there has been companionable silence between the two of us. It's ironic that it took last night's drama to achieve this silence.

When we reach the field, we turn to face each other, leaving a gap of a good three meters between us.

In his irritatingly familiar deep tone, he begins his lesson. "Before we start with new moves, I want to see how far you have progressed with your former moves." He looks around the large dirt court we're standing in. It's circular and nearly two kilometers wide. And we're only standing at its circumference. "Show me your ice wall."

I turn toward the large expanse and release a burst of ice from my right hand. It's a towering ice glacier, tens of meters tall, with sharp spikes protruding in all directions. It rises above the trees. Endeavor doesn't say anything, meaning that he's pleased.

He issues his next command. "Now show me your Wall of Fire."

I turn in another direction and repeat the same movements but with my left hand. It's a sparking orange bonfire stretching several meters with flames twisting and curling. It's about as tall as the trees. Endeavor straight-lipped mouth twitches in disappointment.

"Your Wall of Fire is not as developed as your ice wall. There is still a need for improvement. We'll start today's training with that."

He's indirectly asking for a response to his question-not-question. I give it to him. "Sure, Endeavor."

His effort to control his expression brings me spiteful satisfaction. 

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