The whole morning was a blur. I woke up and my eyes hadn't even fully adjusted to being open when I was already hauled into the bathroom and being forced in the shower.

If I had half the mind and was awake, Emma would have witnessed her own demise happening right before her. I was ready to claw her eyes out and watch her pits spit out blood by the time the cold water hit my body.

I was jumping from my toes and squealing at every harsh bite until my body got used to it. I stood under the spraying water less than five minutes before I dashed out and got ready.

Early morning fighting it was.

I crept out the Emma's room and stepped out into the hallway. The hallway was silent because everyone's asleep. It was only lit by a few dim lights, which made everything look eerie. I wondered where Shar was sleeping if he decided to stay over.

I walked past the room I had briefly shared with Nate, and my ears involuntarily strained to catch any sounds from behind the door. The air hung heavy with tension, and it was eerily quiet until I heard a faint creak from his bed.

My heart skipped a beat, and I froze in my tracks. Was he awake? Could he sense my presence just outside his door? Would he step out?

A whirlwind of questions swirled in my mind, but before I could hush them and continue on my way, Nate's door swung open.

I slowly turned toward him, my neck craning to meet his gaze. "Hi," I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath.

He looked down at me with an expression that was difficult to decipher, his voice matching the softness of mine. "Hi," he whispered back, his words tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

"How are you?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

"I'm good. Yourself?" Nate replied, his eyes searching mine.

"Well enough," I answered, my words carrying the weight of the days we'd spent apart.

"Sleep well?" he inquired, his concern evident.

"Kind of. You?" I whispered, the tension between us palpable.

"Well enough," he responded, his voice gentle yet hesitant.

"Look-"

Nate quickly interrupted me. "I'm so sorry for the way I treated you."

Our words stumbled over each other as we both spoke simultaneously, our apologies quick to follow, creating a disjointed but somehow fitting exchange.

"It's okay," I assured him, a hint of a smile tugging at my lips.

Nate studied me for a moment before his gaze fell to my clothes, his curiosity piqued. "Where are you going?" he asked, his words careful.

"I'm headed to practice with Emma," I explained, my voice hushed as though sharing a secret.

"Out of all the people to pick, you picked her," Nate remarked, his tone carrying a mixture of surprise and amusement.

"Is she not good at fighting?" I inquired, my curiosity matching his.

"I wouldn't say she's bad," he mused, "she just has a fighting style that doesn't quite make sense."

"What does that even mean?" I asked, my brow furrowing.

"It's hard to explain," he replied, his voice thoughtful. "You'll see for yourself and realize it within a second."

"Are you planning to go back to sleep?" I wondered, a touch of hope in my voice.

"No, I'm awake now," Nate confessed, a brief silence hanging between us. "Do you mind if I join?"

"I don't mind at all," I said, relief flooding my words. "Are you planning to participate or just watch?"

"For now, I'll just watch," Nate said, his voice warm and reassuring. "I'll grab my coffee and sneak in when I'm ready."

I couldn't help but smile a little wider. "Deal," I whispered, and in that moment, the awkwardness and tension between us began to melt away, replaced by a familiar warmth and connection.

At the bottom of the stairs, I found Emma waiting for me, leaning casually against the wall with her beautiful hair cascading over one shoulder. She wore a confident smile, her eyes sparkling with the shared excitement of our upcoming training session.

Together, we made our way to a small room tucked away at the back of the house, where the real training happened. The room was Spartan but functional, with mats lining the floor and a collection of training equipment neatly arranged against one wall.

As we entered, I noticed the faded posters of martial arts legends adorning the walls, each one a testament to the dedication and passion that had filled this space for years. The room held a unique aura of discipline and learning, and I felt a surge of anticipation coursing through me.

Emma gestured toward the mats in the center of the room, her eyes filled with the promise of an enlightening session. "Let's get started, Ellie. Today, we'll work on balance and fluidity."
"Fancy words," I retorted, my playfulness evident in my tone.

Emma couldn't help but snicker. "Exactly why I used them. I don't have the faintest idea about those things."

I let out a genuine laugh at her brutal honesty, appreciating her authenticity.

"Let's just go at it and see from there? Is that okay?" she proposed.

"Yes, let's do that!" I agreed, eager to experience her unique approach to training. I stretched out my legs and settled into a fighting stance, bracing myself for whatever was about to unfold.

And that's when Emma attacked.

Her fighting defied any semblance of rhythm or finesse. It was an unorthodox dance of chaos, her arms flailing in all directions, and her movements carrying an uncanny speed. As she dropped to the floor and began essentially rolling around, panic briefly seized me.

Instinctively, I started running, trying to evade her unconventional assault.

As I dashed around the room, evading Emma's unpredictable movements, I couldn't help but feel a mix of confusion, frustration, and exhilaration. Her unorthodox approach to combat was like nothing I had ever encountered before. It was as if she had abandoned the conventional rules of martial arts and embraced an entirely different path.

Emma's laughter continued to punctuate the room as I attempted to dodge her unconventional strikes and rolls. With each passing moment, my panic began to transform into determination. I had always prided myself on adaptability, and this was the ultimate test.

As she lunged toward me, arms flailing wildly, I managed to sidestep her, sending her tumbling onto the mats. This gave me a brief respite, and I took the opportunity to catch my breath.

"Emma, you're something else," I chuckled, shaking my head in amazement.

She pushed herself up from the mat, grinning mischievously. "That's the idea! Keep you on your toes, right?"

I nodded, a newfound appreciation for her unorthodox training methods growing within me. "You definitely succeeded in that."

Our training continued, with Emma guiding me through her unique techniques and encouraging me to embrace the unexpected. As the session progressed, I began to notice subtle patterns in her movements, an underlying logic to her chaos. It was a puzzle I was determined to solve.

Midway through our training session, just as Emma and I were practicing a particularly intricate series of moves, the training room door creaked open. Nate walked in, his presence immediately shifting the dynamic of the room.

He stood there, leaning against the doorframe with a bemused smile, coffee cup in hand, his dark hair still slightly damp from his earlier shower. The sight of him added a new layer of energy to our training space.

"Mind if I join the fun?" Nate asked, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

Emma and I exchanged glances, both of us visibly pleased by his arrival. "Of course not, Nate," Emma replied with a warm smile, beckoning him to come closer.

Nate set his coffee cup down on a nearby table and joined us on the mats. He watched attentively as we demonstrated the techniques we had been working on, occasionally offering a word of encouragement or a helpful tip.

As our training session gradually came to a close, we found ourselves sitting on the mats, sipping coffee, and engaging in a more relaxed and normal conversation. The room, once filled with the intensity of our practice, now exuded a sense of contentment and camaraderie.

Nate, leaning back on his hands, broke the silence. "You know, Ellie, you've made remarkable progress today. Emma's teaching style may be unconventional, but it's clearly effective."

I smiled, grateful for his praise. "Thanks, Nate. It was challenging, but I've learned a lot."

Emma chimed in, her enthusiasm undiminished. "And you've got a natural talent for it, Ellie. You'll only get better from here."

I blushed at their compliments, my gaze shifting between the two of them. "I couldn't have done it without your guidance and patience. You both are amazing teachers."

I couldn't help but notice something in Nate's gaze that stirred my heart. His eyes held a quiet longing, a depth of emotion that seemed to reach out to me.

In those stolen glances, I sensed a tenderness, an unspoken connection that went beyond our dispute. It was as if there were hidden words and emotions swirling beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to surface.