𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗡 | 𝗡. 𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗙𝗙

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦

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Truth loved training.

A lot of her free time was dedicated to learning a new martial arts technique, mastering a new weapon, or freestyling. It wasn't necessary for her to refresh what she already knew, and so she mostly sought for ways to improve and expand her skill set.

In addition to training herself, she also enjoyed training others.

It had started with her brother, who didn't have her gift of an exceptional memory. His was better than most, but he still ran the risk of growing rusty. In the years before their career as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., they would go to the training room every day and Truth would teach him all that she knew.

Next was Clint Barton. She had caught him practicing archery in the gun range and approached him about a technique she'd learned recently regarding the bow. He didn't believe her at first—because, in his words, "I know every technique there is"—but she had shown him, and he had demanded she teach it to him then and there.

From there, Maria Hill had found out and soon Director Fury visited the training room to watch the twins spar. This was early on in Truth's career as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and she had been very shocked to have gained the Director's attention. He had complimented her skill, and it was then that he had realized that she was more than just her gifts.

Fury told her that he was running short of teachers.

Truth hadn't said no.

And so, that was how Truth came to hosting martial arts classes. She preferred teaching her more experienced colleagues, but sometimes she offered to take on a couple of trainees and teach them the basics. It was the only kind of public service she did, and the trainees always scrambled to get a spot in one of her classes. They didn't usually know who she really was because the other agents only ever told them that she was hot and good at her job.

Let's just say that Truth wasn't the only one in the building who liked giving the trainees a hard time. 

In fact, Michael was probably the one who had started the whole movement.

Dressed in the bodysuit she usually wore for training, Truth was busy pulling on her finger-less gloves when the doors opened.

She smirked. Speak of the devil.

"How was breakfast?" she asked without looking up as her brother walked up to her, his footsteps silent in the empty room.

"Awkward," Michael answered. "And that's coming from someone who can charm his way out of any situation."

"I'd beg to differ," Truth muttered under her breath before taking a hair tie off her wrist and handing it to her brother. She moved to sit down in a discarded chair, leaning back so he could begin braiding. "Why awkward?"