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2nd POV

You sucked in a sharp inhale of air, pivoting to the side on your left foot.

As soon as your toes slid off the ground, your fist curled—sweat accumulating between your furrowed brows—and hurled toward Nejire's face. She reacted in a heartbeat; Nejire dodged the punch with a small teeter on her heels, her chest surging with even breaths as a bead of sweat trailed down the side of her flushed cheek. She had scarcely evaded by a strand of hair, her taut jaw clenching uncomfortably while she fell a few feet back, shoes tapping against marble.

Her arms and legs began to tremble—you had been sparring with Nejire for a little over an hour, and a familiar burn of pain was creeping into both of your muscles. There wasn't a single exchange of words save for the occasional roars interspersed between panting puffs, the sole sound being the shuffles in your lithe movements and the loud thump of your heartbeat resonating in your ears.

'Right... Or left?'  You evaluated the possibilities of her advances. 'I honestly have no way of knowing, I can't predict Nejire's moves just from the way she was moving. Everything she does is erratic and sudden.'

Nejire wiped at the profuse sweat beading her forehead, her cascading blue hair disheveled and standing on pointed ends from the previous barter of relentless tosses, jabs and kicks. You were no exception to her untidy state; your bangs were flicked astray in all sorts of directions, your skin smudged with specks of dirt and your sports attire riddled with a hundred of wrinkles.

You were on the brink of breaking into laughter at the mess, stifling a chuckle while Nejire began sliding her right foot forward; cautious. Her stern look extinguished your bundle of laughter, [e/c] eyes inclined to her poised stance.

Then, as if on cue—she charged.

Instinctively, you threw up your arms in a defensive block but Nejire slipped to the side, lips twisted into a devilish smirk, and pushed your elbow down and away, seizing your forearm with an iron grip. You swallowed the dull throb of pain wracking through your limbs when her full weight forced you to the floor. An ache stung at the base of your skull but you disregarded it, managing to land a kick onto her shoulder that was enough to push her backwards.

She flinched for a splitting second and snapped her eyelids wide open, finally opening her mouth to speak, "That hurt, [Name]-chan."

"Either that or you would have won." You grinned.

You weren't going to cave in so easily.

Adrenaline and raw excitement rushed like thick blood in your veins, urging you onto your feet before Nejire was upon you like a carnivorous predator, defending against your next punch. She attacked with a small jab to the head, planning to follow up a right cross. Fatigue clung to her slow motion, her knees buckling slightly under her, rotating on her soles to where you had moved.

You stepped out of range.

Caught her outstretched hand, yanked her forward and drove a punch straight into her gut, knocking a wheeze and air past her gritted teeth, emptying her lungs. Nejire flopped to the floor in defeat, arms wrapped around her stomach.

"Ouch, that's gonna hurt tomorrow morning," she coughed, expression scrunched with a twinge of pain. A knot of guilt found itself inside your chest, stabilising her onto her feet. "That was quite the blow!"

"Sorry... I didn't mean to be so rough."

Nejire slapped a hand onto your back. "Don't mind! This is training, [Name]-chan. Gang Orca did say we have to go all out against each other for today's practice. If I end up puking later let's just blame it on him, okay?" Her giddiness was back, inflating her rosy cheeks. "But when did you get that good in fighting!? When did you become such a Pro!?"

Blue Butterfly | Amajiki TamakiWhere stories live. Discover now