“Good,” Lis replies. “Hatred builds character.”
Moe gives an encouraging nod.
These two… They’ve conspired against me!
Yet somehow, this harsh training starts to work. Because despite the beatings, despite the humiliation, despite the fact that Lis seems to derive genuine pleasure from proving how inferior I am, Idoimprove.
It’s slow at first—probably because I still hold onto my childish grudges. But once I dedicate myself to understanding my faults, I start fixing them.
I begin to understand the rhythm of her movements, the subtle shifts in weight before she strikes. The way she sets traps with positioning alone or the countless tiny inefficiencies in my own fighting that she has been trying to beat out of me.
My strikes grow tighter, my stance steadier. Even my shadow control becomes sharper.
And one morning, it finally happens.
We’re back in the same desolate corner of Aimaxion. Moe is once more taking notes on all my failed fighting attempts. And Lis awaits for me to finally prove I’m not an idiot—well, I doubt she’ll ever stop seeing me that way, but I’m trying, all right?
We circle each other in the dust, both of us light on our feet.
I feint high. And when she reacts, I pivot, dropping lower than before. I send my shadow not toward her, but behind her, where it lashes upward around her ankle half a heartbeat before I crash into her shoulder-first.
She moves with it, but this time I’m faster. Well, not fast enough toactuallystrike her. But my knuckles brush slightly against her skin.
I land on the opposite side of our make-shift arena, breathing hard and in complete disbelief. I…made contact?
Everything stops.
Lis straightens slowly, her gaze on me.
Moe gasps, her hand flying to her mouth.
I freeze, waiting for something, but I don’t knowwhat.
Then Lis touches her cheek, still looking at me.
“Acceptable,” she says.
Disbelief fills me at first, then entire chest swells with unadulterated happiness. .
Moe jumps to her feet, grinning. “You did it!”
I stand taller despite the sweat dripping down my face and the blood drying at my temple.
“I did it,” I say, trying and failing to sound humble.
Lis narrows her eyes. “Do not become insufferable now. It wasn’t even a proper strike.”
“One more than yesterday.” I shrug.
She glares at me.
Then, with terrifying calm, she attacks.
She beats me into the dirt harder than ever before.
But even while sprawled on my back, groaning into the dust as Moe laughs herself breathless nearby, I cannot stop smiling.
Because for the first time it feels like I actually accomplished something.
