Clang.
The sound of metal rang out as our swords clashed.
It happened so fast that my grip was off, but I blocked his strike nonetheless. The force behind Rash's attack pushed against my arms, heavy enough to force my feet back half a step. I let the blow push me, creating distance, and raised my sword again.
Clang.
Another strike followed immediately.
Clang.
Then another.
Rash pressed forward without pause, his sword moving in wide, direct arcs.
No feints.
No hesitation.
Just one attack after the other.
I blocked.
Sword met sword.
Steel met steel.
Again and again.
I retreated, trying to create distance, but his feet followed every step I took. My body moved more on instinct than anything else, parrying and redirecting his strikes the same way we had done countless times before.
I tried to speak between his attacks.
My lips parted—
But no words left me.
They were stuck in my throat, and before I knew it, another strike was already coming at me.
Clang.
I blocked again, sliding his blade away and stepping back.
Step.
He closed the distance immediately.
His voice cut through the clash of steel.
"Is this all you're going to do?"
Clang.
"Only blocking?"
His voice was cold.
Something I wasn't used to, and it hit me like a bucket of ice-cold water.
I didn't answer.
I couldn't.
My arms moved.
My feet shifted.
My sword rose and fell.
But while my body kept up, my mind lagged behind.
Clang.
Our blades locked for a brief moment before I twisted my wrist and broke the contact, retreating again.
"Fight back."
His words hit harder than his sword.
The next strike came faster.
Clang.
I barely managed to raise my blade in time, the impact jolting through my arms and into my shoulders.
I gritted my teeth.
Why?
Why was he pushing me like this?
And how?
How could he fight like that?
A cold gaze that looked at me as if I were a stranger and a sharp sword aiming for my life.
I couldn't understand it.
I couldn't understand him.
Clang.
Rash snapped.
"Come on!"
His next attacks were heavier, faster.
And as the blade came down again—
Something inside me shifted.
Not resolve.
My head was still a wreck.
Something just changed.
My body moved before I understood what I was doing.
Step.
I stepped forward instead of back.
My sword rose—
Not to block.
But to strike.
Clang.
Our blades clashed again, this time closer. The distance between us vanished in an instant as I stepped in, my feet digging into the sand.
Rash's eyes widened just slightly, but he kept going.
Clang.
We exchanged a few short, brutal movements.
No flourishes.
No tricks.
Simple slashes, sharp enough to end each other's lives, and hurried blocks as our swords cut shallow arcs through the air.
The sand shifted beneath our feet.
Our breaths grew ragged.
For the first time, Rash gave me space.
Not much.
Just enough.
Then everything narrowed.
We both moved at the same time.
Step.
Both of us stepped in.
Swoosh.
Both of us stabbed forward.
For a heartbeat, the world slowed.
We stood face to face, only a step apart.
Our knees bent, and both of our swords lunged at each other with outstretched arms.
Stab for stab.
Life for life.
Then—
In that slowed world.
I saw it.
Rash's sword shifted sideways at the last moment, sliding past me, barely grazing my clothes.
My eyes widened.
I tried to stop.
But—
I was too late.
My sword drove forward, blade piercing through flesh.
Shuk.
My sword buried itself in his chest.
For a moment, I didn't understand what I was seeing.
My grip tightened instinctively.
Then my eyes flicked down.
To the blade.
It was inside him.
My breath caught.
The world seemed to stop around us.
The noise of the crowd vanished, as if someone had pressed a button.
My thoughts raced as I stared at him.
Pain twisted his expression.
Why?
The question echoed again and again inside my head.
My lips moved before I realized it.
"…Why?"
Why did you let me win?
Why me?
Rash's brown eyes looked into mine.
His pained expression faded, replaced by something else.
His lips curved into a—
Smile.
It was bright.
Unburdened.
Free.
The same one he wore when he laughed at my questions.
When he waved at the crowd.
When he lay on the arena floor and called the ceiling beautiful.
As if none of this mattered anymore.
Seeing that bright smile on his face while blood ran down the corners of his mouth.
I broke.
My hands moved in panic, fingers tightening around the hilt as I tried to pull the blade free.
To undo it.
Thud.
Rash's sword slipped from his grasp and hit the ground. At the same time, his free hand rose weakly.
His fingers closed around my blade.
Tight.
The edge cut into his palm, and blood dripped down.
Drip.
But he didn't let go.
Drip.
His grip stayed firm.
I couldn't pull it out.
I couldn't push it in.
I couldn't do anything.
And again the same question tore through my mind.
Why?
I wanted to know.
Why are you going so far?
For what?
My lips parted again, ready to ask the same question.
But he shook his head lightly, as if he already knew what I wanted to say.
"It's… too late."
My legs trembled.
My grip weakened.
My body swayed, but I didn't fall.
I couldn't.
Not now.
My mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
Again and again.
No sound came out.
There was no need.
Rash spoke again, his voice thin but steady, stripped of all the coldness from before.
"I always wanted to see the world."
My gaze lifted from the wound to his face.
He wasn't looking at me.
His head turned upward.
Toward the ceiling.
A murmur escaped his lips.
"The sun… and the green beyond the sand."
Drip.
Blood flowed from the corners of his mouth as he spoke, trailing slowly down his chin before falling to the ground.
Drip.
He paused and took a shallow breath before turning his head back toward me.
His brown eyes stared into mine.
The light inside them dimmed with every breath he took.
"Adonis... let's meet again."
Each syllable seemed to weigh him down further.
His eyes closed briefly.
"...that wall you told me about…"
Then opened again, duller than before.
His grip on my blade tightened once more.
It felt like he put everything he had left into that single action.
Slowly—
My sword was pushed back.
The blade came free.
Blood followed.
At last, his hand slid away from my blade.
Rash swayed, then took one unsteady step back.
Step.
Then another.
Step.
His lips moved one last time, and for a moment the light returned to his eyes.
"Don't… add my number to it."
His eyes closed.
His body tilted.
And—
Crack.
The sound when he hit the ground was wrong.
Not dull.
Not heavy.
It sounded like something fragile shattering.
Like a stone dropped onto glass.
It sounded as if something had broken apart.