“Christ.” Leon wipes sweat from his brow, tucking his rubber training knife back into his pocket. “I’m starting to think you’re losing on purpose. You can’t possibly be this bad.” It’s almost too easy for him to get the upper hand when the two of you are paired together for training drills. And you always are, thanks to Major Krauser’s insistence. Leon can’t possibly fathom why. He doesn’t hate you, not really. He just hates that his time is wasted practicing with someone so… subpar.