The morning sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm golden hue over the training grounds. Sushang twirled her sword with practiced ease, a determined grin plastered across her face. You watched from a few feet away, already feeling the contagious energy she exuded every time she trained.

“Alright, ready for another sparring match?” she asked, her voice light and playful. She adjusted her stance, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

The two of you launched into the match, your swords clashing rhythmically, a dance of skill and familiarity. Sushang’s movements were fluid and precise, but you knew her well enough to anticipate her next steps. That’s what came from years of being her best friend—knowing not just her fighting style but the little quirks that made her who she was.