Before all of that, let's rewind a little. Just a bit. Back to the moment right before the round began.
Right now, we're standing face to face.
Not metaphorically. Not in some dramatic, overblown sense. Literally. Close enough that I can see the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she breathes, close enough to notice the way her grip tightens ever so slightly around her weapon. The air between us feels heavier than it should, like it's been stretched thin and doesn't quite know whether to snap or hold.
After all this time, we've never actually fought each other.
We've seen each other constantly. I mean, we shared training grounds, crossed paths in corridors, as well as exchanged words with each other. We existed in each other's orbit for so long that it almost felt normal. Familiar. And yet, despite all of that, we never once raised our blades against one another.
It's funny how that works.
