Mᴀʏ 20, 2020
It has been a month.
Petro is supposed to watch the trainees spar this evening. During the day, he trains Alexa as usual, like what he has been for the passed weeks and, to say the least, she's doing extremely well. She moves without complaint, being oddly humble and satisfied with whatever is given to her.
As well as she's become, there's still a long way for her to go and today is the first day she will get a chance to show what she's been taught, as ordered.
Having Petro train someone directly is a rare case in the foundation and his brother, the trainer of the class, is intrigued, watching his students move in sync, waiting and anticipating what the little girl that has been stripped off his list of children, is capable of.
What could be so special about her that his brother, that was abstaining from fighting, would forget about his vow and attend to her?
Nobosklav's train of thoughts is broken as he catches sight of Phillipeño in the corner, moving sloppily. In habit, his feet carry him over to the boy, getting ready to exhibit another scolding, but the time hits 5pm and Petro steps into the mirrored room with a short figure trailing behind him. Phillipeño steps away from his distracted teacher, as Nobosklav squints hard to make out the silhouette. The room is well lit, because it's a studio, but the darkness she emits unknowingly is shocking.
"Class," he speaks up edgily, "acknowledge the founder."
Everyone stops their routined exercises and turn to stand aligned like obedient soldiers, facing Mr. Moskal. "Good evening, sir!"
Petro nods, hands clasped behind his back. Gently, he nudges the silent girl beside him. She inhales sharply, stepping into the view of everyone and lifts her head, but her eyes stay casted downwards at the mats, staring hard at their feet. Her hair is in a messy bun, having grown out of its bob cut and her bangs are also now too long to be considered bangs and are clipped to the sides. Her whole face is on display, to her disliking.
"This is Alexa. The student that you were told is coming, but I took her instead." Petro announces, causing eyes to flick to her. He also looks down at her, urging her to meet their gazes. He tells her softly that keeping her eyes down is disrespectful. Slowly, she nods, lifting her lids and showing the crowd her mismatched eyes of baby blue and dark brown.
"What is that?" One whispers a little too loud and the child within her sparks to life.
It's quite sassy. "Nunya beeswax—"
"Heterochromia." Petro states clear enough, sending a glare in Alexa's direction before turning back to the others, doubting they'll know what he means. He bring his hands around, clapping once for their attention. Then, clearing his throat, he says, "No more questions. Let us begin."