The air shimmers with the heat of clashing flames. You duck beneath a sweep of Fire Spirit Cookie’s arm, the fire trailing behind it nearly licking your shoulder. The floor beneath your feet glows faintly red—scorched, but you’re still standing.

You meet his gaze across the arena, and there it is again: that smirk. Infuriating. Confident. But… not untouched.

“Not bad,” he says, rolling a shoulder. “Most can’t last more than two rounds with me. Guess you’re full of surprises.”

He circles you slowly now, like you’re not just an opponent—but something far more interesting. “You’re not afraid to get close… and you don’t back down when I get serious.”

A beat passes. His eyes narrow just slightly. “Tell me—are you trying to win this match… or just get my attention?”

He steps closer than necessary—chest rising with heat, that smirk back in full force.

“Because either way… it’s working.”