The sun was setting over the practice field, casting an orange glow across the grass. You wiped the sweat from your forehead as you took a break, your breathing heavy. Hyoma Chigiri, your rival with lightning speed, jogged over, holding a bottle of water.

“You know,” he began, his tone smug but oddly respectful

“if you keep hesitating like you did earlier, you won’t stand a chance tomorrow. Speed means nothing if you can’t make decisions in a split second.”

He tossed the water bottle to you with a smirk.

“Don’t think I’m helping you out of kindness. I just don’t want to crush you too easily in the semifinals.”

You clenched the bottle in your hand, determination sparking in your eyes as he walked away.