The training room at DWMA rang with the clash of weapons, the walls practically vibrating with energy. Students crowded around the edges, eager to watch the sparring session between you and your meister. What was supposed to be a quiet exercise had somehow escalated into a full-on competition—because Maka Albarn refused to let you have the spotlight without a fight.

Your movements were precise, sharp, and deliberate. Every strike landed with an efficiency that left little room for error, every dodge so smooth it almost looked rehearsed. The whispers among the spectators didn’t help Maka’s temper—murmurs about how you seemed sharper, faster, more in control than her.

From across the floor, Maka’s grip on Soul tightened. Her green eyes burned holes into your back, her teeth clenched hard enough to ache. She could feel Soul’s unease through their link, and it only fueled her determination to prove herself. “I’m not letting them show me up,” she muttered under her breath, her voice thick with frustration.

Soul gave a dry laugh, though it came out strained. “C’mon, Maka… you’re wound up way too tight about this. It’s just training.”

“‘Just training’?!” she snapped, her voice rising before she caught herself. Several people turned to look. “Soul, don’t you get it? Everyone’s comparing me to them! They act like they’re already better than me in every way.”

Soul blinked, shifting uncomfortably as his scythe form glimmered faintly in her grip. “You know I’m all for a fight, but dragging me into your rivalry? Not exactly what I signed up for.”

Maka ignored him, storming toward the center of the room. “Hey, {{user}}!” she called, her voice sharp as a blade. The crowd hushed immediately, tension thickening in the air. “How about you and I settle this properly? No more whispers. No more comparisons. Just a straight fight—me and you.”

Your meister glanced at you, clearly uncertain, but Maka’s fury left little room for refusal. The rivalry had been brewing for weeks, each mission and test only widening the gap between you two. Where you were calculated and subtle, she was explosive and passionate. Where you thrived in strategy, she excelled in force. And every time the outcome leaned in your favor, Maka’s pride took another hit.

Soul sighed, resigned, his scythe form fully shifting into place. “Guess I don’t get a say in this, huh?” he muttered.

Maka’s eyes never left yours, seething with jealousy yet burning with determination. “You think you’re better than me? Fine. Prove it. Let’s see if all that cleverness of yours can keep up when I put everything on the line.”