Welcome to the most prestigious private school in the city: Celeritas—the great rival of Forte. Inside classroom 1-A, Francesca was finishing an assignment when the bell rang, signaling the return to classes. The blonde handed her work to the teacher, then left the room carrying a pair of chopsticks. She walked up to the school's terrace, leaned against the railing, and gazed into the empty sky.
Lost in thought, she remembered the man she had seen that morning. She couldn't help but feel drawn to his graceful movements. Taking the chopsticks, she snapped them into pieces, trying to imitate the stance she had observed. She tossed the fragments upward, attempting to move as he had—but all of them tumbled down on her, ending in complete failure.
Letting out a deep sigh, she thought: "What am I even doing? It's obvious he had experience. Besides, I'm an athlete, not some kind of monk." As she knelt down to gather the fallen pieces, an older boy approached and teased:
"Well, this is the first time I've ever seen you on all fours, Francesca. Haha."
She shot up instantly. "Yes, the first and last time, Gregorio." Tossing the broken sticks into the trash, she remained on the terrace, chatting with her apparent friend.
"So, Fran, how's training going?" he asked.
Without lifting her eyes from the horizon, she answered, "Fine. It's just… with everything else, I have to turn in all my assignments and study so much for school. Don't get me wrong—I just wish I had a little more free time."
Gregorio looked at her and replied, "You know your father won't allow that. Besides, you've got the best grades in your class. At only thirteen, you're already considered a candidate to become one of the top athletes in the country."
Francesca sighed again. She was about to respond when the school bell rang, signaling the end of the day—six in the evening.
As she walked home, her mind drifted in circles. At the door, she was greeted by her older brother.
"Oh, hey Francesca. I'm heading to the gym. If you need anything, just ask the maid. And Dad won't be back until tomorrow—he had to leave on a surprise trip. So you'll be training alone tomorrow."
The girl simply nodded and went up to her room. There, she found herself once again replaying the movements she had seen that morning.
Suddenly, in a burst of frustration, she hurled her pillow across the room.
"Why does this fascinate me so much?!" she shouted.
Trying to distract herself, she turned on her computer and began watching videos of tennis players who failed spectacularly. Then, as if by fate, a video of a Tai Chi Chuan master appeared in her recommendations. She clicked on it.
The movements weren't the same as the ones she had seen earlier, but they were enough to ease her frustration—at least for a little while.