[Kyle's POV:]
She was a thief.
At least, that was my first impression of her.
A girl who had stolen my purse.
Back then, I regularly attended a dojo that was fairly famous for both its instructors and the quality of equipment it offered.
During that period, I was taking multiple classes at once, including martial arts for self-defense and archery.
The place was called Bridman Dojo.
I usually arrived there around five in the evening after finishing my first home tuition session, and I stayed until eight.
Two hours were dedicated to combat training.
The remaining hour belonged to archery.
Father never cared about when I returned home, so after classes ended, I often stayed behind to continue practicing my aim alone.
I refused to come second in the only thing I was even remotely good at.
Archery was the one skill that never disappointed Father.
But talent alone never carried me there.
