Five days of silence and stillness had done their work. Himeko walked through the double doors of Facility B, and for the first time in weeks, she felt refreshed, brand new; body didn't scream in protest. Her fever had burned itself out, taking the fatigue of the season with it. Her legs felt light, coiled, and her mind clear.

  She scanned the gym, seeking her target.

  Wasn't alone, Kevin leaned against the wall, one hand moving gesturely in the air, conveying a complex wrist action, likely explaining the mechanics of a cut shot from what it seemed. Opposite to him was Zoe who listened intently, her hand covering a polite giggle.

  Himeko faltered. A strange sensation prickled on her skin, something that felt irrationally possessive.

  She blinked, and immediately rejected the emotion. Shaking her head, she dislodged the thought, and resumed her stride.

  "Good morning, Zoe," Himeko said, her voice carrying a genuine warmth as she reached them.

  Zoe brightened, waving a hello. "Hello! You look so much better."

  "I feel alright," Himeko replied with a nod. Then, she pivoted, her gaze locking onto the tall man in the red tank top, much different to the warmth she gave to Zoe as she met him by a steely, professional determination.

  "Marvant. Our training isn't finished."

  Kevin looked at her, scanning her rested features and the clear fire in her eyes. A wide grin spread across his face. He pushed himself off the wall.

  "I was wondering when you'd show up," Kevin laughed. "I was getting bored not having someone willing to be destroyed."

  He turned his head toward the bench where a figure was trying to make himself a blanket ghost under a towel.

  "Damian! You're up!"

  A muffled groan emerged from beneath the terrycloth. "My freedom... it was short-lived."

  Kevin stepped onto the court. The ball he held was tossed from one hand to another. He watched as Himeko walked to her position at the net.

  Something had fundamentally shifted.

  She walked to the net not with the stiff, purposeless gait of a woman trying to outrun her own limitations, but with the fluid, ominous grace of a lion entering familiar hunting grounds. The fire that had consumed her five days ago was still there, but had much been tempered. Her shoulders were relaxed, her hands hanging loose and ready at her sides. She looked grounded and ready.

  She turned to face him, planting her feet. She stood tall, and occupied space, her presence expanding to fill the court.

  "Ready."

  Kevin closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of the gym. Okay, he thought. Impress me captain.

  He punched the ball to Damian and exploded into his approach.

  The world slowed down, the two began their approach.

  Kevin expected to see her tracking the ball, or perhaps watching his hips for direction. Instead, he found himself staring eyes-to-eyes with the black-brown marbles that were disconcertingly calm, soft, almost placid, yet underneath that surface lay a razor-sharp focus.

  Himeko saw the subtle dip of his left shoulder. She tracked the micro-adjustment of his stride length, even seemed to register the slight twitch of his wrist as he prepared his arm swing. Invasive it was, it felt like she was reading his mind, predicting the future that he usually held the sole monopoly on.

  She knows, Kevin recognized.

  A cold alarm shot through him, if he continued this trajectory, she would kill the ball dead.

  Mid-stride, Kevin aborted his primary plan, he shifted his weight, cutting hard to the left, changing his angle of attack entirely.

  Damian's eyes widened in panic. The set was already in the air, drifting toward the original target. With a grunt of effort, the setter contorted his body, pushing the ball further out to meet Kevin's new path.

  Kevin launched himself into the air.

  The wall launched herself at him.

  Himeko was already there, hadn't been fooled by the chaos. She rose with him, her arms spread wide, sealing the net, turning the open court into a prison cell.

  Kevin hung in the air, his options rapidly vanishing. He saw her hands, long, steady, inches away from touching his ball.

  Not today.

  Summoning the absolute limits of his talent, Kevin Marvant did the impossible - he wrapped around reality itself. Contorting his wrist to a breaking point, he slashed the ball at an angle that made no sense physically, aiming for a sliver of space no wider than a coin near the antenna.

  Whoosh.

  The ball hissed past Himeko's outside pinky finger, missing contact by a molecular margin, and buried itself into the sharp corner of the court.

  Kevin landed, stumbling slightly from the awkward landing. Himeko dropped back to earth silently.

  The ball landed in bounds, Kevin won the point. But as Kevin looked at the net, he didn't quite feel like a winner.

  Himeko stared at her right hand, flexing her fingers slowly, looking annoyed, felt like she's missing decimal points before reaching the correct conclusion.

  "Again."

  Every rally became a dogfight. Kevin could no longer rely on his athleticism alone; he had to dig deep into his bag of tricks, using every feint, roll shot, tool shot he possessed just to keep the ball alive. Himeko didn't bite on decoys and didn't jump early. She forced him to earn every single inch of court.

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  Kevin found himself gasping for air, his lungs burning, hadn't worked this hard even in a Crown League final. He was sweating profusely, his mind racing to stay one step ahead of the defensive machine across the net; the mirror of his own defensive reflection who followed every footstep he took.

  "Again!"

  Damian set. Kevin flew. Himeko rose.

  He hit a high line shot over her fingertips.

  "Again!"

  He wiped the ball off her forearms, sending it out of bounds.

  "Again!"

  Every time Kevin landed, he felt the pressure ratcheting up. The margin for error reduced significantly. One lazy swing, one half-hearted intent, and she would bury him.

  Growllllllllll

  A loud, guttural growl echoed through the gym.

  Damian stood at the net, clutching his stomach with both hands, looking tragic.

  "That's it. My stomach is eating itself. I'm going out to lunch." Damian started walking off the court without another word.

  The spell finally broke.

  Kevin dropped his hands to his knees. Relief washed over him - sweet, undeniable relief. He loved the challenge, but the mental load of trying to stay half a step ahead of Himeko was crushing him. Every jump felt like he was defusing a bomb. He needed a minute to just be, without having his every neuron analyzed by the monster across the net.

  "You heard him," Kevin panted. "Lunch time."

  Himeko straightened up, her chest heaving but her composure intact. She nodded once, accepting without argument.

  "Understood," she said. She turned and walked back to the bench, reaching into her bag to retrieve a plastic-wrapped sandwich.

  Himeko sat on the edge of the bench. She peeled back the plastic wrap of a turkey sandwich. She took a bite, chewing slowly, her gaze fixed on the hardwood floor.

  A shadow fell over her knees.

  Kevin stood right next to the bench, tilting his head back to chug down his water bottle. His Adam's apple bobbed rhythmically as he downed the liquid, looking like a man who had just run a 500 miles marathon in the desert.

  Himeko stopped chewing. She raised her hand to cover her mouth, swallowing quickly before speaking.

  “Aren't you going to eat?" she asked, her voice muffled slightly behind her hand.

  Kevin lowered the bottle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'll grab something later. I usually play light. Heavy stomach makes for a heavy jump." He continued, "Besides. I'm too amped up to eat. You're seeing things today, Nakamura. Evolving so fast that I have to keep myself in the mindset to catch up."

  Kevin titled the bottle up for the last few inches of ice water, bracing himself, expecting the usual walls to go up. He waited for the "I'm just doing my job," or the "Don't patronize me," or perhaps just a silent glare urging him to disappear.

  "Thank you."

  Kevin choked.

  He sputtered, coughing violently as he doubled over, his face turning a shade of red that matched his jersey. He hacked for a solid ten seconds, pounding his own chest while Himeko watched him with mild concern.

  "Are you alright?" she asked.

  "Yeah..." Kevin wheezed, straightening up and wiping tears from his eyes. "Yeah, I'm good. You're full of surprises today."

  Himeko took another bite of her sandwich. "You are the MVP. If you say I have improved, good chances I have."

  Kevin chuckled, shaking his head. "So, what was the magic trick?"

  "I studied. I spent the last five days watching VODs. Ivanka, Jennifer, Ramona." She paused, her eyes flickering up to meet his. "And you. I watched your finals footage and memorized your tell."

  Kevin blinked, she had gone that far to dissect his on-court behaviors. "Well, glad I could be of service."

  Himeko frowned. She looked at him, then at her half-eaten sandwich, then back at him.

  "Would you mind... stepping away?"

  "Huh?"

  "I don't like being watched while I eat," Himeko said. "It is uncomfortable."

  "Himeko, we are in a joint facility. You’re basically eating in public."

  "Yes. But it is weird when you do it. You are hovering."

  Kevin opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. He sighed, realizing that winning an argument with Himeko Nakamura was impossible.

  "Alright, alright," he conceded, raising his hands in surrender.

  Instead of walking away, however, Kevin simply pivoted on his heel and turned his back to her, crossing his arms and looking out at the courts.

  "Better?" he called out over his shoulder.

  It was, in fact, not better. She had wanted him to physically leave the immediate vicinity, but explaining that would require more energy than she was willing to expend on a sandwich break.

  So she resumed eating.

  "So," Kevin said, clearly unable to endure more than thirty seconds of silence. "Since you've been stuck in the city, have you done any sightseeing? Victoria has some great driving routes along the coast."

  "No," Himeko replied between bites. "I have been at my accommodation."

  "Just... at your place?"

  "Yes. Resting. And studying."

  "Right. Fun."

  A minute of silence passed, broken only by the rustle of plastic, Himeko balled up the wrapper of her finished sandwich, and wiped a crumb from her lip. She stood up, the noise of her movement prompting Kevin to glance back over his shoulder.

  "Done?"

  "Yes."

  Himeko picked up her water bottle and the ball of trash. She walked past him, heading toward the waste bin near the exit. As she passed, she didn't look at him, but her voice was clear enough.

  "Go eat your lunch, Marvant. Do it quickly. We have a lot of reps to catch up on."