Those Who Fight!

6. No Different

Violetta didn't think she was talented. How could someone like her be talented? The t-word was reserved for girls far stronger n' prettier than herself. It better fit girls like Perditia, even if she was a lunatic in Letta's mind.

Hajime's kick narrowly missed her skull. She danced away, but it was unbalanced.

"Careful!" he warned.

His fist slammed her square in the chest n' backwards she flew. Then what was the point o' the warning?

She backpedaled, but it was short lived. Violetta rushed back in.

This time she caught his fist n' wrenched his arm behind him. His heel met her toes painlessly. Letta was sensing a serious lack o' conviction.

"C'mon!" she cried, shoving him forward. "Don't play with me!"

"The goal isn't to break your foot," he said as he whirled back 'round. She might've preferred it if he had. "It's only sparring."

Only sparring. Her punches sped up. Not a real fight. Not a real threat. How was she s'posed to tell the difference? On the streets, a fight was a fight. N' now here was Hajime telling her that there were real ones n' fake ones? She just didn't get it.

She dodged him (again) n' her hands shot forward; the air simmered with magic. She stopped cold. Mistake. Her back ached as she hit the ground.

"Violetta!"

Only a sigh escaped her; her tingling fingers curled into her palms. Hajime's shadow fell over her as he approached, obscuring the neon sunset clouds.

"Why did you hesitate?" he asked. She sighed.

"I can't tell the difference."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you mean?"

Another sigh.

"I can't tell the difference," she repeated.

"Between what, Letta?"

The girl ignored the hand offered to her n' stood up all by herself, saying, "You said just sparring, but I don't even know what that means. A fight's a fight, n' that's all there is to it."

She moseyed to the fountain n' plopped down on the very spot she'd almost died on what felt like a lifetime ago. Morbidly, she dipped her pale fingers into the water. "How can I tell the difference 'tween who's gonna let me drink n' who's gonna drown me?"

"I've often wondered that myself," he said, joining her. "But all I want is to keep you safe."

She still didn't understand that, either. 

"Let's call it a night," said Hajime. "Tomorrow, I want to see about your powers."

Letta glanced at him with one cocked eyebrow. "What about 'em?"

"How they work, what the limits are. I'm fascinated by them, in all honesty," he said.

"Um, okay," she answered vaguely. She only hoped it was for good reason.

~~~

"Violetta, would you say you know for sure how your powers work?" asked Hajime between well-timed punches she still managed to dodge. So she wasn't the only one who zoned out during fights.

"How? Not exactly," she said, nailing him in the stomach. "Sorry!"

"It's — hnn — fine. But what do you know?"

She ducked his roundhouse kick n' said, "I just know that I can't use 'em when I'm alone."

"What does that mean?"