As always… I attacked her by surprise.
It had become a silent ritual between us. A cruel game. An unspoken tradition.
Before fights. During. Sometimes just after, as she wiped away the blood or caught her breath. It didn't matter. There were no rules. Only this unwritten law: as long as she hadn't seen me coming, I had the right to try.
And I won.
Always.
Well… I still won. But less and less easily.
Because she was changing.
Day after day, blow after blow, her body adjusted, her reflexes sharpened, her reading of movements became more precise, more instinctive. She was no longer that hesitant student, forged in urgency. She was becoming… something else.
A wall. A predator.
