Jin's breathing was wrong.
Too fast.
Too shallow.
Aara caught it halfway through sparring — a hiccup in rhythm, a hesitation she hadn't seen in a week.
They'd been at it for an hour.
The girl was bleeding from the mouth.Not badly — just a split lip.But her balance was off. Her reaction time slipping.
"Stop," Aara said, stepping back.
Jin wobbled, still in stance.Didn't drop her fists.
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
"I said I'm fine."
"And I say if you fall in front of a sponsor like that, you won't walk out."
That shut her up.
Jin exhaled, lowered her arms.Leaned forward with her hands on her knees, spitting blood to the side.
"You're pushing too hard," she muttered.
"You think that was hard?"
Aara tossed her a towel.
"That was gentle. They don't want perfect. They want blood that doesn't cry when it hits the mat."
Jin caught the towel.Pressed it to her mouth.
"They're not the ones bleeding."
Aara crouched in front of her.
Voice low. Controlled.No softness, but no cruelty either.
"They will be. Eventually.But not if you get crushed before we make it to round one."
Outside, a car door slammed.
Aara's head snapped toward the sound.
Footsteps.Slow. Confident.
Not Jin's.
Not anyone from the team.
Someone new.
A man stepped into the doorway. Mid-40s. Clean suit. Dirtier eyes.
He clapped once. Loud enough to echo.
"You weren't kidding," he said to Aara. "She's got fire."
Aara stood slowly.
Jin wiped her mouth and kept her head down.
"You're early," Aara said flatly.
"I'm curious."
"Curiosity gets people killed."
"So does silence."
He walked toward Jin, circling her like she was meat on a hook.
"She doesn't look like much. But she carries your name. That alone buys her time."
"She doesn't need my name to hold her ground."
"We'll see."
He snapped his fingers.
One of his guys — another fighter, bigger, older — stepped forward.
"Let's see what your girl does against someone who doesn't care who trained her."
Jin looked at Aara.
"Do I fight him?"
"No," Aara said quickly.
But the man was already nodding.
"Too late. This is how the pit works. We don't wait for permission."
The older fighter grinned.
Took off his jacket, cracked his neck, and stepped into the mat like it was personal.
Jin backed up instinctively.
Aara grabbed her arm.
"You don't have to do this."
Jin looked at her. Jaw set.
"Yes, I do."
Aara let go.
Not because she agreed.
Because she saw it in Jin's eyes.
This wasn't fear anymore.
It was challenge.
And it was the only way Jin was going to prove she didn't break under weight she never asked to carry.
The man didn't wait for a signal.
He lunged.
Jin ducked.
Sloppy, but effective.
She spun out of the way, barely missing a shoulder check that would've knocked her flat.
Aara's heart clenched.
She stayed silent.
Let it happen.
The man taunted her.
Slapped her shoulder.Dodged her counterpunch.Smirked like he was already bored.
Jin landed a hit to his ribs — a lucky one.
He didn't like that.
He hit back harder.
Caught her across the jaw.
She stumbled.
Fell.
Didn't cry out.
Just spat more blood and stood back up.
Aara felt it then — the shift.
Jin wasn't retreating.
She was recalculating.
The second half of the fight wasn't graceful.
But it was violent.
Jin fought like someone who knew she wasn't going to win — but didn't care if she took something from him on her way down.
And she did.
By the time the man ended it — elbow to her side, enough to drop her — he was bleeding too.
From his eyebrow.
From his pride.
He stepped back, laughing.
"She's got claws, I'll give her that."
Aara stepped forward, ignoring him.
Dropped to Jin's side.
"You okay?"
"Still breathing," Jin croaked.
Aara helped her sit up.
Blood on her teeth.Smile crooked.
But still hers.
The man leaned down.
"You'll need to clean her up before the pit. They like their monsters a little more polished."
"I'll keep the blood," Aara said. "It makes the fear stick."
He left after that.
Didn't look back.
Didn't need to.
He'd seen what he came to see.
Later that night, Aara stitched Jin's lip in silence.
No hospital.
No witnesses.
Just two girls in a room that smelled like sweat, gauze, and survival.
"You didn't stop him," Jin said quietly.
"I almost did."
"Why didn't you?"
Aara paused.
Tied off the stitch.
"Because you looked like you needed to know what it felt like. To fight someone who didn't hold back."
"And?"
"You didn't die."
Jin smiled.
Then winced.
"Hurts."
"It should."
"That mean I'm doing it right?"
"That means you're still here."
She stood.
Wiped her hands clean.
Then turned to the window.
The night was quiet.
For now.
"He'll be back," Jin said.
"I know."
"What do we do then?"
Aara didn't answer right away.
She picked up the flyer again.
The one that still said her name.
Then lit it on fire and dropped it in a tin tray.
"Next time?" she said, watching it burn."We don't let them watch us bleed.We teach them what it means to choke on their own."