By the time we got to an acceptable location, Eve promptly retrieved her pistol and walked off, as if nothing unusual had ever happened.
I grabbed the other gun and weighed it in the palm of my hand.
Today, I thought determinedly. I'm winning today.
It had taken long enough. I had to actually succeed at some point.
As she always did, Eve yelled "Go!" and we began round one.
I'd come to better recognize the moments when I left openings, and I now preemptively avoided them. With all the giant trees around, it wasn't too difficult to find cover as long as I was aware of Eve's general direction. She slunk through the forest like an otter, which made tracking her nearly impossible, but it was something that I could handle.
Sure, there were a bunch of big trees, but the spaces between them were large. Considering that she would inevitably have to cross the gaps, she would expose herself at some point.
This time, I increased the efficiency of my movements even further, feeling every muscle as it contracted, urging each fiber to move a little faster. My eyes weren't enough, so I strained my ears and sensitized my entire body to my surroundings–anything to locate her.
Eve's experience in these forests was hard to beat, but I had a strategy. Before today, I had only thought of using my explosiveness as an offensive tool, but never my healing powers.
As I flew between trees, I intentionally hung my left arm out behind me–I could afford to take a hit to something that I didn't need.
We'd been going for about 30 seconds when a gunshot echoed through the woods, and I felt a familiar shock of pain in my arm–exactly what I'd been waiting for.
I changed direction, so suddenly it was as if I'd bounced off a wall, and, pushing my explosive powers to their maximum, made a mad dash in the direction of the shot. My eyes watered from the air that whipped me, but I refused to blink.
There.
In the corner of my visual field, I caught a glimpse of movement. She was stealthily fleeing from where she'd taken the shot, evidently anticipating my movements and trying to get out of my path. But I had her in my sights, and I zeroed in.
There simply wasn't enough cover–there was nowhere to hide. For the first time in all of our training together, I'd created a clear opening. At such a high speed, It would be difficult to shoot accurately, but the range was close and nothing obstructed the path between me and her.
This was a shot that I knew I wouldn't miss.
Finally.
I raised the gun and aimed to shoot, but she turned sharply and raised her own.
My eyes met the muzzle of her pistol. In that split second, I wasn't quick enough. I couldn't beat her to the trigger.
Huh? I collapsed to my knees, blood pouring out of the several holes she'd put into my leg. I won. For sure. I definitely should have won.
Usually, it wasn't hard to figure out where I'd gone wrong, but this time, there was no explanation.
I'd done everything I needed to do, so how did I lose?
I shook it off, and we continued, but a similar scene kept repeating itself.
Through different means, I managed to create opening after opening. Every time, it was clear and obvious that I'd given myself the upper hand. Every time, I thought, Finally. I was finally going to win, but I lost.
Again and again and again and again and again.
Every single time, I was on the attack, while she was on the defense, yet every shot turned into a split-second battle that went in her favor. It almost seemed like the same outcome was destined to happen, regardless of what led up to its occurrence.
I sat down, and I stared blankly at the brown earth in front of me.
I didn't notice how heavily I was breathing, the sweat running down into my eyes, or my throat, which was bone-dry and scraped against the air of every breath.
Even after all this, I couldn't win a single time. I didn't have anything to show.
Man, this is just getting sad.
"What were you doing?" Eve, who was standing a few feet away, said with an edge to her voice.
Slowly, I looked up at her, barely feeling the motivation to lift my head.
"What do you mean? I lost, just like every other time."
She wasn't upset after the first few days, so how could she have only just noticed my shortcomings?
"Don't give me that bullshit," she seethed with a cold, steely stare. "I said it was my fault if I got hit, right?"
Just like before, she'd lost her usual monotone, emotionless voice. This time, though, I thought I heard a hint of anger.
"What are you trying to say?" I didn't want to hear her lecture me. I was already aware that I hadn't hit her, so I didn't see why she had to point it out.
"Ohhh, come on. You could have shot me almost every time, but you didn't. After all this time, you finally get a chance and you intentionally don't take it? Do you realize how much I've sacrificed just to help you out? …I need you to do the same." She'd been ranting away angrily, but she spoke the last sentence in a low voice–it almost sounded sad.
"What? Are you joking?" I shot back, growing slightly irritated. "Eve, I tried, but I couldn't beat you. You were faster than me. It's that simple."
"You really think I'd believe that the guy who raised his gun first and has inhuman explosiveness would get beaten to pull the trigger?"
I opened my mouth to make some sort of retort, but I stopped.
…She's right…
How could she have been faster than me to shoot? I'd been continually asking myself that very question, wondering what the answer could possibly be, but it had never occurred to me that there might have been no logical solution.
Now that she laid it out plainly, I realized that it simply didn't make sense. There were no other variables, it was just a matter of who pulled the trigger first. All those times I was a millisecond too slow should have, in theory, been easy victories.
I had no answer for her.
"I don't know," I conceded. "I really was trying to win."
Eve narrowed her eyes. "That's pathetic," she said in a dangerous tone. "You were hesitating."
Ahh. That must be it.
Thinking back, I realized that, in the final critical moment when I had the gun raised, I didn't have the same urgency as I did leading up to it. You could say I didn't have the killer instinct.
In the end, my emotions were my downfall.
Subconsciously, I must have been afraid to shoot her, even if I felt like I had a burning desire to win. Of course, there was the chance I could have killed her with a poorly aimed shot, so it wasn't surprising that I'd hesitate.
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I decided, Any reasonable person would hesitate to shoot in that situation. Assuming you didn't despise them, it wasn't remotely natural to shoot somebody you knew.
Eve was struggling to keep her trembling voice under control. "After all the times I've had to shoot you… all the pain I've caused you, you couldn't do the same?"
It looked like she would fall down and break to pieces.
"I really thought you were better than that."
Tears were welling up in her eyes, making their usual flat gray tone shimmer, and she stormed off without another word.
I messed up.