Later, Saeles's mother returned. She looked at her daughter critically, as if she were weighing every bruise, every falter in her movements.
"You're still slow," she said, voice cutting. "You call that training? Weakness will destroy you. You will never be strong unless you endure everything I throw at you."
Saeles continued hitting the bag, sweat and blood dripping down her face. Her mother's voice echoed in her head, twisting her thoughts, feeding the violence inside her. Pain and obedience were her reality, and the weight of expectation pressed her further into darkness.
Outside, Bada pressed herself against the fence, battered, bleeding, trembling—but unwavering. Her obsession had taken root so deeply that pain, fear, and rejection no longer had meaning. She would continue returning, no matter the cost.
"I… I'll always be here… I'll never leave… no matter what…" she whispered through ragged breaths.
Inside, Saeles struck the bag with relentless fury, unaware that Bada's devotion had entwined itself around her existence. Each day, each blow, each act of violence pushed both girls further toward a psychological edge they could not yet see—but the tension was spiraling closer to a breaking point.