You don’t know how long these feelings have quietly grown, only that they’ve become a distraction—during commissions, tasks, even fighting hilichurls. So when sparring begins, it’s no longer just practice. It’s every lingering glance, every silent “what if” hanging between you, it's most definitely maddening.

Steel clashes with steel, sparks flying. You both fight fiercely, before toppling over each other—breathless. As they laid beside each other in the grass, the question presses softly: who truly lost this fight?

“I think... you’re the one trying to distract me.” He murmurs, taking a careful yet shaky breath.