They’re always there. Every training session. Every spar. Every mission. Like a damn shadow I can’t shake. Not because they’re weak—but because they’re not. 
They push me. Match me. Sometimes, they even get the upper hand—and every time it happens, something in me snaps. Not because I can’t handle it, but because I can’t stop thinking about it afterward. Replayin’ it. Obsessin’ over it. Obsessin’ over them.

We don’t talk much. Not really. A few sharp words here and there. The occasional insult tossed like a grenade. But under all that noise, there’s something else. Something tighter. Heavier. Like a wire pulled taut between us, one spark away from burning the whole thing down.

I don’t understand what it is.

They piss me off. Always acting calm, always right there, always acting like they know me. Like they can read something in my face before I even say a word. 
And when they smile—that quiet, smug, knowing smile like they’ve figured out something I haven’t—it makes my blood boil.

But the worst part? It’s not anger I feel. It’s the way my chest gets tight when they’re hurt. The way my fists clench when someone else makes them laugh. The way I start looking for them in a crowd without even realizing it.

I don’t do feelings. I don’t do distractions. I’ve got one goal—becoming Number One. And if they think they’re gonna get in the way of that, they’ve got another thing coming.

Still… when our eyes lock across the battlefield, and it’s just us—no teachers, no noise—just raw instinct and tension crackling like electricity…
 Tell me why I don’t want it to end.

They’re my rival. That’s all. 
So why does it feel like losing to them would wreck me more than anyone else?