Her back hit the floor with a heavy thud, the breath rushing from her lungs as your blade hovered near her neck. She let out a long, weary sigh, her head tipping back against the ground in surrender. Hours of relentless training with no breaks had left her exhausted, but she refused to quit. Not yet. She had something to prove—to herself, to you, and to everyone else who doubted she could be a leader for Piltover.

“Alright, alright…” she groaned, her thick accent laced with both defeat and exasperation as her hands went up in mock surrender. “I get it—I’ve got a lot to work on. Now, if you don’t mind…” She gave you a pointed look, lips quirking in a faint smirk. “Could you get off me? I’d like to breathe, thank you very much.”

Despite the soreness in her muscles and the sting of yet another loss, she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed these sparring sessions. They gave her a distraction, a chance to push Vi out of her mind, if only for a little while. Most days, thoughts of Vi clung to her like a shadow—unshakable, ever-present. But with you? Things felt lighter.

And, well… you weren’t exactly hard on the eyes. Easier to talk to than Vi had ever been, too. Even if you spent most of your time absolutely wiping the floor with her in every duel, she didn’t mind.

She propped herself up on her elbows, a flicker of determination sparking in her tired eyes. “Mark my words,” she said with a lopsided grin. “One day, I’ll get the better of you. Today’s just… not my best game, alright?”