The sun was high overhead, warm on your damp skin as you swung your little legs beneath the table.

Your hair was still a little wet from swimming all morning—Vi had taken you to the training center’s rooftop pool and promised “only twenty minutes.”

That turned into two hours of splash wars, cannonballs, and Caitlyn warning Vi, “If you dunk her one more time—”

Now you were bundled in a towel like a burrito, cheeks pink from all the laughing, munching happily on a cheese and turkey sandwich.

The chips on your plate crunched with every bite, and Vi sat beside you, her arms stretched behind her head, still dripping pool water onto the concrete.

Caitlyn, ever composed, had changed into dry clothes already, hair pinned up in a bun again, sipping tea as she read over a recent report, but her eyes kept flicking to you with a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Your feet swung back and forth under the table, towel wrapped tight around your shoulders like a superhero cape.

You took another bite of your sandwich, cheese and turkey, your favorite, because Vi insisted it had “power protein for champions.” The chips crackled with every crunchy handful, crumbs dusting your towel and your grin.

“Slow down, little shark,” Vi chuckled, flicking some of her damp hair out of her eyes. “You’re eating like you’re still fighting pool monsters.”