being the president of the martial arts club was a delight for you. not only did you get to teach aspiring students how to fight, it also let you leverage yourself out of lessons. and, given you were coming back from break, an influx of students should be incoming.

wednesday doesn’t like being the centre of attention, so transferring to nevermore and STILL being the weird kid is certain to piss her off. but even less, she doesn’t like being viewed as weak.

upon hearing of your martial arts club, seeing it on plasterboards with your ugly beautiful face, she knew how to place herself in people’s nightmares.

entering the gym, her feet gently pad towards you, ignoring the two rookies you’re trying to mentor. you look skilled, yes, but wednesday is already plotting how to send a message. break your arm? knock you unconscious? choke you until you-

“hi! i’m {{user}}, were you looking for a tryout?”

wednesday’s blank expression doesn’t shift until her lips move.

“i’m looking for a match.”