"Hey. Can you let go of my collar now? It's getting uncomfortable," I muttered once we were finally out of Selene's line of sight.
"Haha, sorry!" she laughed, finally releasing me. That wide, innocent grin of hers made it look like none of this was her fault. "I kind of forgot. I was just so happy to see you."
I adjusted my collar, pressing the fabric flat with more force than necessary. The fabric felt rough against my neck, a physical reminder of her almost playful aggression. I was too old for this kind of theatrical display, too tired for her relentless energy.
She noticed. Of course she did.
"So, aren't you gonna ask about all that drama earlier?" she said, tilting her head with exaggerated curiosity.
"Well, I'm the kind of person who minds his own business—"
"Perfect!" she cut in. "Since you're clearly so curious, let me explain."
...This bitch definitely doesn't listen to anyone.
She continued anyway. "So, the Valeblanc and Mooncrest families actually have a long-standing connection. Which means Selene and I have known each other since childhood."
"Oh. So you're like, childhood besties—"
"Suss," she interrupted again, pressing a finger to my lips. "Edward, don't jump to conclusions. We're not besties. And it's kind of rude to interrupt someone before they finish."
Didn't you just do the same thing half a minute ago?
She tapped her chin playfully, pretending to search her memory. "Where was I…? Ah, right."
"So, Selene and I grew up together. She always had this prim, disciplined, super-serious vibe, which—frankly—was annoying. I tried to avoid her as much as possible. But she was always clingy, always competitive."
"You know," she said, pausing with a faint sigh, "her persistent challenges annoyed me so much that I intentionally chose a different middle school just to get away from her."
Then she glanced sideways at me.
"And that's where I met you—another nuisance. But a totally different kind."
She smiled. Smug. Satisfied.
Like she'd just traded one headache for another and was perfectly fine with it.
"She was always behind me. In academics, in violin, in etiquette, in dance, in swordsmanship—always second to me. And she hated it."
Yelena's tone shifted, just a touch—a quiet pride curled at the edges of her words.
"Her competitive streak is insane. She's always wanted to surpass me—even just once."
She stretched her arms above her head, as if the whole thing bored her now.
"And that," she added with a wink, "is what all the fuss was about. She finally got her chance."
"Well, that's enough about me," she said, stepping closer.
Her voice dipped to a softer tone, teasing but edged with something else—and her sweet fragrance brushed past as the distance between us shrank.
"You've done well in your matches," she added, eyes briefly scanning mine.
"Especially that last one. You even beat Daniel."
She tilted her head, thoughtful. "He's ranked 30th, you know. Not incredible—but definitely no pushover."
Then she paused.
"That's what I found surprising… and disappointing at the same time."
I raised an eyebrow. "How so?" The question slipped out before I even thought about it.
She sighed, almost dramatically.
"Surprising, because you clearly have potential. More than most in our year, if I'm being honest. With that kind of talent, you could rise through the ranks with ease."
Her voice dipped lower. Not bitter—just matter-of-fact.
"But disappointing… because instead, you choose the path of someone going astray. Like you're deliberately distancing yourself from everything—from your name, your place, even the competition."
She looked at me, calm and unreadable.
"And I can't decide if you're doing it to
prove something… or to run from it."
"You just don't need to know," I said—barely above a whisper.
She heard it anyway. She let out a soft sigh.
"Alright, fine," she muttered, brushing the moment aside. "Then listen up."
Her tone shifted—serious now, crisp and tactical.
"Your next opponent is Leon Ashborn. Rank 3. Core rank E-. In short? You're in a tough spot, Edward. The chances of winning are… next to zero."
She looked at me—calm, measured, calculating.
"So we play it safe: minimize damage, keep injuries light… and win the next match. That's the plan."
I turned my head slightly, my voice flat. "So you're saying I'm going to lose."
"That's not what I'm saying," she replied, eyes narrowing. "I'm telling you what's smart. What keeps you alive. Or do you seriously believe you have a real chance at beating someone like him?"
She stared at me, waiting—not mockingly, but with a weight behind her gaze.
"Be honest," she said softly. "Do you really think you can win?"
Her gaze searched mine, calm and unwavering, as if looking for any flicker of true belief.
I know I've told you to win every match…" she murmured, looking away for a moment. "But since an unexpected opponent's come into play… things have changed."
A weary sigh escaped her, the weight of the situation settling heavy between us.
With a tired voice, she said, "Listen, Edward… the gap between Core F+ and E- isn't just some number on paper. It's real, it's steep, and it's not there for nothing. No matter how much someone fights… that kind of gap doesn't just vanish."
She stepped closer, placing a hand gently against my cheek—her touch soft, hesitant.
"You don't have to prove anything today," she whispered. "You'll have your chance later, okay? There will be countless more opportunities… so just let this one go."
I stared at her, quietly.
Then slowly, I raised my hand, covering hers for a brief moment—not harsh, not cold—before gently guiding it away.
"You know, Yelena… unlike you, I have limits." My words came quieter than I expected. Not bitter. Just honest.
Her expression softened. She didn't speak; she didn't need to.
"I'll never reach Core S or beyond. My path? It ends somewhere around Core A. That's my ceiling."
I didn't blink. Didn't look away.
"You and the others... you'll keep growing. Keep climbing. Higher and higher. And I'll stay right here—watching you disappear ahead."
A short pause. Then I asked:
"So tell me—knowing that... knowing perfectly well where my road ends…"
"Can you still look me in the eye… and ask me to stand still?"
There was a silence between us.
The kind that didn't need words. Quiet, but heavy enough to carry the answer.
I turned away—didn't say anything, didn't look back.
Just walked.
I don't even know why I had that whole dumb conversation. Could've left. Could've stayed out of it.
But no. My stupid emotions.
Tch. I've wasted enough time. I needed to move—fast. Every second I stood still was a second I wasn't in control, a moment I allowed the past to dictate my present.
I searched through the entire gallery, eyes scanning the crowd for a particular boy.
He had a way of blending in—like background noise. If you didn't look carefully, you'd miss him entirely. Pass him by without ever realizing.
But after a minute or two, I spotted him—standing quietly near the observation stands, half-shadowed beneath the upper arch.
I made my way over, quick and deliberate.
"Hey," I said.
He turned slowly, clearly surprised to see me.
"...Mind if I borrow something from you?"