Chapter 7 #3
She literally launched a flying kick at him, slamming into his chest. Hiro staggered and quickly steadied himself, but the girl was already on him again.
She used his knee as a springboard and launched herself at his neck, wrapping her legs around it.
In seconds, she trapped the giant’s head between her thighs and threw herself backward.
They crashed onto the ring with a thunderous thud, the girl’s legs locked around Hiro’s neck, cutting off his air.
If she wanted, she could break his neck with ease.
When his body went limp, Aish released him and stood up, dusting off her clothes.
“Excellent,” Zion praised. “By far the best fight I’ve seen today.”
Aish nodded proudly and climbed down from the ring.
She went to sit on the bench of glory. The class was slack-jawed.
We’d only seen that move in advanced fighting manuals, and she’d pulled it off with such grace it looked more like dancing.
It was understandable why they’d transferred her to the final year.
Adele set about healing Hiro, and when the boy woke up, he could barely contain his fury over the humiliation as he walked toward the losers’ bench.
I made room for him to sit, but no one dared welcome him: with the mood he was in, he’d probably punch someone.
He settled in, scowling, and stared at Aish across the ring.
His eyes gleamed, and a smile that could only mean trouble appeared on his lips.
Zion climbed into the ring and called for our attention.
“You were excellent today, despite looking like children playing at fighting. Except Aish, obviously—she’s the only one who comes close to the ideal of a soldier,” the trainer said, pointing to the newcomer, who held his gaze.
“Hiro taught us a great lesson today: never underestimate your opponent based on their size, especially if she’s an Amperian.
They’re more agile, and agility is as important as strength in a fight. ”
Hiro sank into the bench, arms crossed over his chest. He looked like a sulking child.
“Also don’t forget about beauty. It’s as dangerous as a blade,” the boy muttered as he stared at Aish, who shot him a satisfied look.
“Well observed, Hiro,” Zion said, his lips curling into a half-smile.
“The idea of this training is to make you lose your fear of fighting for real. If you don’t get knocked out here, you’ll keep cowering and wondering what it feels like until it finally happens.
Unmastered fear is synonymous with defeat, and I want you to learn to deal with it. ”
Even without meaning to, I found myself puffing out my chest in an attempt to appear braver.
The fact that I'd done it involuntarily—as if I needed Zion's approval—prodded at a small wound inside me that, instead of hurting, made anger bubble up.
When the general's eyes landed on me, he seemed to notice that feeling, his gaze lingering a bit longer.
“Now, half of you know what it's like to go down, and the other half will find out soon enough.” He looked at the winners and continued: “Part of being a good fighter is being able to take as many hits as possible, and I'm sure that lesson wasn't taught to you, since some of you didn't even last two minutes.
Starting tomorrow, I'm changing the warm-up.
I noticed your form is terrible, so we'll drill strikes for an hour.
After that, you'll fight just like we did today, and at the end of class, we'll practice with weapons.”
I nodded.
“For today, training is over. Dismissed.”
The place became a cacophony of voices. Everyone was eager to talk about the day and grab the best spots in the shower.
Students showered at the gymnasium after training since most lived in the academy dormitories and had to share a bathroom with four people.
Since I didn't have that problem, I avoided the locker room—especially when it meant being around ten girls who shot me looks of contempt.
While retrieving my bag from the locker, I noticed Aish watching me from the other side of the locker room.
When she caught my gaze, she looked like she was about to say something.
Fearing what would come out of her mouth, I grabbed my bag and bolted down the hallway.
The only things I ever heard around here were words of hatred, so I didn't want to listen to whatever provocation she'd crafted for me.
After all, I didn't need another person reminding me that I wasn't worthy of being here.
I already knew that.
Δ
When I walked through the front door, it was already night. Kiara was lying next to her food bowl and, when she saw me, lifted her head and looked at me as if wondering what the hell had happened to my face.
“It's a black eye, Kiara.” I pointed to the bruise, which had already gone from purple to greenish and looked awful. “Guess who's responsible for this?”
I tossed my bag onto the couch and lay down on the living room rug. She got up and came over to me, flapping her wings in a cheerful greeting. Then she sprawled out beside me and stared at the bruise, tilting her head in silent inquiry.
“That's right, it's exactly who you're thinking of: the terrible general.”
Kiara snorted and lowered herself to lick me.
“No!” I exclaimed as I tried to escape the licks, but she covered my face in saliva with her leonine kisses.
Her whiskers tickled my skin, and I started laughing while my fingers got lost in her white mane full of braids, trying to push her away.
I didn't have enough strength to get free and ended up giving up.
“You say that as if I gave you a beating.”
Zion's voice echoed through the room, firm as thunder. Startled, I sat up abruptly, forgetting the state of my ribs, and received a twinge of pain in response.
Kiara bolted toward the back door, excited.
My eyes followed her, and I saw Zion in the garden through the glass wall.
His expression was cautious, as if he were sizing me up.
Still, there was a note of amusement in his posture.
From where I was, I could only see his silhouette bathed in moonlight.
One hand was in his pocket, and the other held a water bottle.
I ran my hand over my face to wipe off the chimera's saliva.
“You allowed it. It's the same thing.”
“I allowed you to fight, but it seems you have a fetish for being a punching bag.” He tipped the bottle to his mouth. His gaze swept over me, analyzing my every reaction to the provocation.
I got up from the floor, ignoring the absurd pain.
“Why are you doing this?”
By the gods, just looking at him made my nerves go haywire.
“Doing what?” Zion asked, his chin raised toward the night sky.
“Being a trainer, changing the academy's rules… forcing us to hurt each other.”
He tilted his head, curious.
“You don't want to hurt them?”