Damn it, I had to hold myself back from ripping her clothes off when she was underneath me. The worst part was when she was on top of me, I had to control myself not to get hard and restrain myself from tying her up and doing what I wanted with her. Her determined and firm gaze, it was that look that I liked. She's going to fight against me, and even if I end up defeated, I'll come crawling back to her.Even If she push me away,  I'll come back.

We continued training for a bit longer and then took a short break. She looked interestedly at the walls adorned with katanas. 

With her hands behind her back and her petite size, she exclaimed, "Wow, they're beautiful." 

She carefully ran her fingers over them, and I rushed over, but it was too late; she cut her fingers. She withdrew her fingers in pain, and I quickly took her right hand where she had cut herself, looking at her incredulously. 

"You have to be careful; they're sharp!" I retrieved a tissue from my jogging pants and placed it on her fingers.

 She grimaced in pain, saying, "Yeah, I just found that out."

 I pinched her cheek, and her eyes widened like a baby. 

"You're not supposed to touch everything," I scolded gently. 

She giggled, and I shook my head helplessly, smiling. 

She then asked me curiously, "Where are these special katanas from?" 

I went to the cabinet, searching for band-aids.

 "We have agreements with the Yakuza, and we exchange gifts, of course. They had special katanas made for me and a few others with special materials that could cut through anything with a light touch," I explained. 

She reacted with amazement, saying, "That's so cool." 

Finding some band-aids, I stood up and approached her, taking her delicate, soft hand in mine. Her hand was so small compared to mine; it only covered a small part of mine. I couldn't help but grin at the thought. Carefully applying the band-aids to her fingers, she looked at me intensely. I returned her gaze, and we locked eyes for a moment until she deliberately coughed and turned her head aside. 

I chuckled softly, "Can't maintain eye contact?" 

She paced back and forth with her hands behind her back, "Your gaze is too intense."

 I raised my eyebrows, "You're straightforward." 

She shrugged, smiling, "That's important for people, or what we need nowadays."

 I looked at her in surprise; her words touched my heart.

 "Unfortunately, not many people think like that these days, Sofia," I remarked. 

She looked down with a flicker of sadness, "Unfortunately." 

Not wanting to ruin the mood, I suggested, "We have a Japanese garden in the back; if you want, let's go see it together. It seems like you're interested in Japanese style." 

Her eyes lit up, and she nodded eagerly. I went back to the cabinet and retrieved two towels and two water bottles, handing her one to wipe off sweat and drink. Then, I went to the other sliding door and opened it, revealing a medium-sized Japanese-style garden.

It was a CHISEN-KAIYUSHIKI (pond garden). 

She looked around with wide eyes, turning her head in all directions. Her mouth hung open in awe, "Wowww!"

 I took out a cigarette from the pack, lit it, and exhaled. We walked slowly across the small bridge and leaned against the railing. Below the bridge was the pond, with various fish visible. She leaned down against the railing, supporting her head with her hand, her body stretching backward. She seemed interested in watching the fish. I took another drag. I loved this garden; there was no roof above us, allowing the dark night to shine through, with the moon looking so beautiful. 

Suddenly, she hesitantly asked, "I have a personal question, if it's okay with you." 

I looked at her, "You can ask, but whether I answer is another matter."

 She straightened up, and we were facing each other across the railing. 

She raised her eyebrows mischievously and then asked tentatively, "Those scars you have... are they from fighting?" 

I took another drag and briefly considered whether to answer or not. 

I sighed, "They're from fighting, but also from my... father." 

I said the last word more quiet, looking down. 

She looked at me with wide eyes, as if regretting asking the question, "I'm sorry if I've opened old wounds." 

I shook my head, "It's okay; it's in the past." Was it really in the past?

 She continued, "What did he do to you?"

 I looked her directly in the eyes, "Every day, he beat me, my sister, and worst of all, my mother." 

She furrowed her eyebrows in pain. 

"On one day, it got really bad; he severely injured all three of us, and I swore to myself that one day I would kill him, which I did." I tossed the cigarette onto the bridge and stamped it out, taking deep breaths.

 She covered her mouth with her hand, "I'm so sorry."

 I looked up at the moon, "You have nothing to apologize for." 

There was a brief silence. Suddenly, she said with a sad undertone while holding one arm with her hand, "My father left me and my mother right after my birth. She suffered from poverty but still gave everything to raise me with love. My story isn't even close to being as bad." 

I looked at her again, "Everyone has a past that shapes them into the person they are now."

 She looked at me sadly, "That's true, but the past can also positively or negatively impact us." 

I smiled at her, "That's true, because it negatively affected me, but it also made me strong." 

She took a step closer and suddenly hugged me. Her fragile body against mine, her head against my chest, and I sharply inhaled at her sudden decision. I hesitated with my arms but then hugged her back. Her hair smelled like roses. I smelled it like my elixir for my life. I held her tighter. I hate to admit it, but I needed this hug, and I had needed it for a long time, actually, but I never got it.

She then released herself from the hug, and honestly, I wanted to hold her in my arms longer, but I also didn't want to force her. 

"I wouldn't have thought you had such a backstory," she said.

 I shrugged, "One shouldn't judge a book by its cover." 

She smiled, "You're right."

 I walked away from the railing, stretching and cracking my neck.

 "But funny enough, we have something in common," I said. 

She looked at me confused. "Both of our fathers were assholes, so we secretly share a similar fate." 

She chuckled lightly, "True." 

"Shall we go back in and continue training?" I asked. 

She nodded determinedly, and we went back inside. I grabbed a pair of boxing gloves from the wall. I tossed hers to her, which had pink Hello Kitty designs, and grinned broadly at her. 

She scoffed, "WTF, whose are these?"

 I chuckled lightly, "They belong to my sister; they match your look."

 She gave me a offended look, placing her hand on her hip and glaring at me like a disgruntled wife. 

I grinned as I put on my boxing gloves, eagerly bouncing on my feet, "Show me what you've got, Sofia." 

She scoffed and put on her boxing gloves, getting into a fighting stance. I had noticed this before—she knows how to fight, that's for sure. But either she only knows a little, or she doesn't want to show it. I've fought many people, and with her, I knew right away she has potential.

 This is going to be fun.

She looked at me seriously, and I did the same. I took the first step with my right foot, intending to strike her head. She blocked it with her right arm and countered with her left. 

I grinned widely; she was using her brain. I reached for her left arm, trapping it under mine, and lightly touched her chin with my boxing glove. If she were a man, I would have struck with all my strength, and he would be knocked out on the ground. 

I said seriously, "Your first mistake, Sofia, is assuming you can surprise your opponent without knowing whether they are experienced or not. If I had hit you on the chin, you would be on the ground right now. If I were inexperienced, you might have landed a hit." 

I let her go, and she pouted.

She brushed the strands of hair from her face, and the sight of her looking so disheveled was amusing. 

I then said firmly and seriously, "Round 2."

She grinned and took the first step this time. Suddenly, she launched a roundhouse kick from above with her left leg. I was surprised and leaned my head back to evade it.

I grabbed her leg firmly and kicked her other leg out from under her, causing her to land on the ground. 

She lay on the ground and pouted, "How annoying!" 

I walked over to her and stood over her with my legs spread apart, looking at her seriously ,"stand up".

We continued for another half hour until she exhaustedly lay on the ground with her arms and legs spread. She breathed quickly in and out and closed her eyes. I walked over to her and stood over her, leaning forward. She slowly opened her eyes again. 

Amused and grinning, I said, "Get up, princess. For a moment there, I thought we lost you."

 I adjusted my boxing gloves and said with a dangerous undertone, mixed with seduction, "We're not done yet..."