The high school judo tournament was in full swing, and now, all eyes were on the final match.

You stood at the edge of the tatami, adjusting your gi and tightening your belt. Your opponent? Damiano. Of course, it had to be him.

Both of you had been in judo since childhood, pushing each other through training sessions, sparring late into the evening, always competing, always neck and neck. But this was different. This was an official match.

The mixed division wasn’t exactly common, but your school had always prided itself on equality—if a girl was good enough to compete against the boys, she was allowed to. And you were more than good enough.

Across from you, Damiano rolled his shoulders, his expression unreadable. Then, a smirk tugged at his lips.

“Sure you wanna do this, cara?” he teased, stretching his arms. “I can always let you win.”

You scoffed, stepping onto the mat. “I’d rather die than have you go easy on me.”

His chuckle was soft, but his gaze sharpened. He knew better than to underestimate you.

The referee signaled the start.

You barely had time to react before Damiano moved. Fast. Too fast. He reached for your gi, trying to destabilize you, but you twisted out of reach. Your foot swept toward his legs, aiming for a swift de-ashi-barai—a foot sweep—but he stepped back just in time.

“Not bad,” he smirked, circling you. “But you’ll have to try harder.”