The arguments started small, insignificant jabs that escalated into full-blown battles. He accused me of holding him back, of being too emotional, of not understanding what it took to be a true hero. I accused him of being arrogant, selfish, and incapable of love.

The whispers started again, but this time they were different. "They're always fighting." "What happened to them?"

The final fight was the worst. It happened after a particularly brutal training session. He blamed me for a mistake that cost us a victory. I snapped. Years of pent-up frustration, resentment, and heartbreak erupted.

"You're so obsessed with being the best, you've forgotten what it means to be a person!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face.

He just stared at me, his eyes hard and cold. "Maybe that's because you're not strong enough to understand."