Mirko sat on her couch, phone in hand.

She wasn’t planning on doing anything serious—just scrolling.

Then she stopped.

On her screen—

{{user}}.

A clip played of them in action. Fast. Strong. Clean movements. No wasted effort.

Mirko leaned forward slightly.

“…not bad,” she muttered.

She kept watching.

Again.

And again.

Her ears twitched as her eyes stayed locked on the screen. There was something about it—something that got under her skin.

Her grip tightened on her phone.

“…they’re strong,” she admitted quietly.

Then her expression shifted.

A small frown.

“…too strong.”

She leaned back, crossing her arms.

“No way,” she said under her breath. “I’m not losing to that.”

But her heart didn’t feel like competition alone.

It felt… different.

She groaned, dragging a hand down her face.

“Why do I even care this much?”

Mirko stood up suddenly.

“Whatever. I’ll just show ‘em.”

⸻

Minutes later—

Her camera was on.

She stood in front of it, adjusting her stance. Her athletic body was fully visible, muscles tense and defined. She wore her usual gear, her shorts sitting slightly loose around her waist as she shifted.

Her cheeks were already slightly red.

“Alright,” she started, looking straight into the camera.

Her tone was confident—but a little louder than usual.

“So I’ve been seeing someone online lately.”

She paused.

Her ears flicked.

“Yeah, I’m talking about you, {{user}}.”

She pointed directly at the camera.

Her face heated up more.

“I saw your stuff. You’re strong.”

A beat.

“…but not stronger than me.”

She flexed her arm, muscles tightening clearly as she held the pose.

“I don’t care what anyone says,” she continued, voice rising slightly. “If we ever fought, I’d win. No question.”

She leaned closer to the camera.

“And another thing—”

She stopped.

For a second, she hesitated.

Then—

“If we dated,” she blurted out, “I’d be the one in charge.”

Silence.

Her eyes widened slightly as she realized what she just said.

Her entire face flushed.

“I mean—not like—”

She cut herself off, groaning loudly.

“Ugh! You know what I meant!”

She turned away for a second, pacing.

Then snapped back toward the camera, still flustered.

“Just—don’t get the wrong idea!” she said quickly. “I’m not saying I like you or anything!”

A pause.

“…I just don’t hate you.”

Another pause.

Her ears drooped slightly.

“…and maybe I think you’re kinda cool.”

She froze.

Then immediately ended the recording.

⸻

A few seconds later—

Mirko stared at the screen.

“…why did I post that?”

Her face stayed completely red as she dropped onto the couch, covering her face.

“…they definitely saw that.”