The finals had everyone on edge. That’s what I told myself, anyway. Walking toward the prep room for Arena A felt like heading to an execution—mine or soone else’s, I wasn’t sure yet.
The hallway outside the waiting area was empty. Most students were probably already in their observation seats, waiting for the show. I pushed through the double doors and found exactly what I expected.
Noel and Usagi stood on opposite sides of the room. The tension could’ve been weaponized.
"—don’t need you to tell what to do," Noel snapped. Her violet hair practically crackled with static. "I’ve been running protocols since before you could spell tactics."
Usagi’s shoulders hunched inward. "I was just saying that maybe we should—"
"Maybe we should what? Follow another one of D’Angelo’s reckless plans that put everyone at risk? I saw what he did to Vince. The boy’s still in the infirmary."
"That was an accident," Usagi said quietly.
"Nothing about him is an accident."
I let the door close behind with enough noise to announce myself. Both heads snapped toward .
Usagi looked relieved. Noel looked like she wanted to burn sothing, probably .
"Nice to see team morale’s at an all-ti high," I said.
"Don’t." Noel pointed a finger at like a blade. "Whatever you’re about to say, don’t."
"I was just going to comnt on the weather."
Her grey eyes narrowed. "We face Team One in fifteen minutes. Nolan Traore is ranked second in the entire class. Aurora’s photon precision is docunted at ninety-four percent accuracy. And your girlfriend—" she practically spat the word "—can redirect attacks through spatial manipulation."
"She’s—"
"I’ve seen the data." Noel’s voice climbed higher. "We’re outranked. Outgunned. And our so-called strategist spent yesterday knocking people unconscious with a handshake."
Usagi winced. "Noel, maybe we should just—"
"Don’t." Noel spun on her. "Don’t tell to calm down. Don’t tell it’s fine. This is a disaster waiting to happen and we all know it."
I watched Noel’s hands shake. Not with rage. With fear.
She was terrified.
Interesting.
"Usagi," I said calmly, "give us a few minutes, yeah?"
"But—"
"Please."
Usagi looked between us, uncertain. But she nodded and slipped out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her.
Silence.
Noel crossed her arms tightly across her chest. Her shoulders rose with each breath like she was physically holding herself together. The posture I’d seen before—the one that scread control while everything underneath fell apart.
"You should leave too," she said to the wall.
"Nope."
"I don’t want to talk to you."
"Yeah, you’ve ntioned that. Multiple tis." I took a step forward. "And yet here we are."
"Here we are because we’re on the sa team." She finally looked at . Those grey eyes were too bright. "After today, that ends."
"You requested a transfer yesterday. Reeves said no."
"I’ll request again."
"Why?"
"Because I can’t stand you."
"Lie."
Her jaw clenched. "Excuse ?"
"You heard ." Another step. "You’re lying. About hating . About wanting distance. About everything you’ve said since I walked in here."
"You’re insane."
"I’m observant." Close enough now to see the pulse hamring in her throat. "You’re not scared of losing the match. You’re scared of winning."
"That doesn’t make any sense."
"Sure it does." I leaned against the equipnt locker, casual. "You win, you prove you’re better than Nolan. That everything you planned worked. But you also prove we work well together, which ans all that hatred you’ve been nursing gets complicated."
Noel’s laugh was sharp and brittle. "You think very highly of yourself."
"I think accurately of you."
"You don’t know anything about ."
"I know you taste like vanilla and frost. I know your Essentia runs cold on the surface but burns underneath. I know you made sounds when I drained you that you’re still embarrassed about."
Her face went white, then red. "That was—you manipulated—"
"I opened a connection. You fell into it willingly."
"I was testing a theory."
"Right. And when your hand started shaking? When your pupils dilated? When you pressed your thighs together under that table?" I pushed off the locker. "That was all very scientific."
She backed up a step. "Stay away from ."
"That’s the third ti you’ve said that. I’m starting to think you don’t an it."
"I do."
"Then why are you backing toward the wall instead of the door?"
She froze. Looked behind her. Realized I was right.
When she turned back, I’d closed half the distance.
"This is inappropriate," she said. Her voice wavered on the last word. "The match starts in twelve minutes. Soone could walk in."
"Lock’s on the inside."
"That’s not the point."
"Then what is?"
"You—" She stopped. Started again. "I ca here to win. To beat you. To prove that everything you dismissed years ago was wrong."
"I rember."
"You barely rember your own na half the ti."
"I rember calling you Short Stack. I rember you being a little kid with a boyish haircut who wanted attention from the Angelo heir." I took another step. "I rember being a piece of shit who didn’t look twice."
Her breathing quickened. "I don’t want your apology."
"Good. I wasn’t offering one." One more step. "I was offering an observation. That little kid grew up into soone extraordinary. And I’m looking now."
"Too late."
"Is it?"
She was against the wall. I stood close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin, see the way her chest rose and fell with each breath. Her uniform sohow made her look smaller and more dangerous simultaneously. That high-cut slit on her hero dress revealed the curve of her hip. The trumpet sleeves frad her delicate wrists.
And that lower half. Jesus Christ. I’d noticed before but up close was different. The uniform’s skirt portion didn’t hide anything. Wide hips, thick thighs, an ass that should’ve been illegal. Built like a weapon specifically designed to destroy concentration.
"You’re staring," she said.
"You’re beautiful."
"Don’t."
"Why not? It’s true."
"Because—" Her voice cracked. "Because I can’t think when you say things like that."
"Good."
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