"You got this!"

"Kick her ass!"

"Hahahaha, look at her, she's so stupid."

I crash hard onto the mat, the impact making me gasp out a breath as the laughter and jeers echo in the dojo. The wooden floor beneath me feels colder than it should, the weight of their stares making it seem like a thousand eyes are on me. Sweat drips down my brow, and the air is thick with the scent of exertion, damp wood, and frustration. How the hell did I get myself into this mess? Sparring with Natasha of all people... just the cherry on top of my already stellar day. Great.

Before I can recover, pain explodes in my lower back. Natasha's heel slams into me with brutal precision, sending a jolt of electricity through my spine. 'Damn it, that hurt...' I grit my teeth, the urge to scream and let her know just how much of a bitch she is crawling up my throat. But I swallow it down. I'd regret that for weeks.

I react on instinct, whipping around with a backhand jab. My knuckles collide with Natasha's face, and the dull thud echoes louder than I expected. For a brief, satisfying moment, I see her flinch.

'Oh, shit. She's pissed.'

I barely register the incoming kick before it smashes toward my face. I twist, ducking just in time, but my balance falters. My world tilts, the floor rushing up to meet me in a disorienting blur. "Oof". I slam into the mat again, and this time, it feels like I've been hit by a truck. The next thing I know, Natasha's fist is speeding toward me like a bullet.

"ENOUGH!"

Sensei's voice cuts through the chaos like a sword, sharp and commanding. Natasha's fist halts, suspended in mid-air, inches from my face.

"Why'd you stop me, Sensei?" Natasha asks, her voice dripping with arrogance, as if she didn't just try to cave my face in.

"I believe you were demonstrating self-defense, not outright murder. Your opponent is incapacitated… you've won."

"Tch." Natasha pulls back, rolling her eyes as she offers me a hand. It's not a gesture of kindness; it's one of dominance. She helps me up with a grip so tight it makes my knuckles turn white.

"We'll pick this up next week," Sensei says, already halfway out the door. His departure feels like abandonment, the door clicking shut as he leaves me to face the wrath of the queen herself.

Almost immediately, Natasha's foot finds its way into my back, shoving me back onto the mat with an effortless push.

"You make me sick," she hisses, her eyes glowing with contempt before she walks out with her clique, their sneers and whispers following her like an obnoxious shadow.

Alone, I lie there, the taste of blood and defeat mingling bitterly on my tongue. My muscles ache, my pride's in tatters, and I'm left to wallow in my misery as the clock ticks on. Minutes blend into an eternity before I finally drag myself off the mat.

On my way home, the cold gnaws at my skin, a chilling reminder of just how terrible today was. Snow flurries around me, the world slowly turning white, but it's not enough to distract me from the reality. I suck.

My grandfather's dojo, once the pride of the city, now bears the weight of shame. He was a legend—a warrior who'd carved his name into the annals of martial arts history. He built everything himself, brick by brick, blood and sweat. But that was a lifetime ago. Now? Now, I'm the joke that's left to carry on the Chiffon name.

A part of me wonders if it's even worth it anymore. *Sigh*.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, cutting through my self-loathing.

"SAYA, WHERE ARE YOU?!"

I almost drop it. "Joey? Calm down! What's going on?" My heart picks up, already sensing something bad.

"YOU GOTTA RUN, NATASHA'S GONNA KILL YOU!"

"What?!" I stop dead in my tracks, scanning my surroundings as if Natasha's already breathing down my neck. "What did you do?!"

"I may have… kinda… confronted her."

Oh, God. Joey.

"WHAT? WHY?!" My voice rises, panic mixing with exhaustion.

"I was pissed, alright?! She's been treating you like crap for too long, so I went to talk to her. In public. I might have made a scene."

This is bad. This is *really* bad.

"And then I may have mentioned things... only you would know."

The blood drains from my face. "What the hell did you do, Joey?!"

No answer, just the sound of frantic breathing on the other end. I don't even wait for her to finish explaining. I take off.

I run like my life depends on it because, well, it probably does. Natasha isn't someone you want to piss off on a good day, let alone after Joey's little public confrontation. My feet pound the snow-covered ground, each step a race against the inevitable.

I glance behind me, and of course, there she is. Natasha and her pack of loyal followers, all with that predatory look in their eyes. They're like wolves closing in on a wounded deer, and I'm the prey.

I run faster, my feet pounding against the pavement, the snow now falling harder, almost blinding. The cold burns my lungs, but I push through it, adrenaline giving me the strength to keep moving. My heart is pounding in my ears, every sense on high alert as I weave through the narrow streets, ducking around corners.

The city park finally comes into view, and I make a mad dash for it. The snowfall has turned into a flurry, the visibility dropping even more. It's exactly what I need to lose them.

I make it to the park, my breath coming out in ragged gasps, my lungs burning as if I've been running for hours. Snow's coming down harder now, the white curtain thickening, obscuring my view. But I know this park. Natasha won't follow me in here; she hates the cold.

I slide behind the large stone fountain, crouching low. My breath comes in heavy gasps, and I listen intently for their footsteps. The cold seeps into my bones, but I barely feel it through the adrenaline.

I peek around the edge of the fountain, watching as Natasha and her group finally give up, retreating out of the snowstorm. Relief floods my body, and I slump down against the cold stone, the exhaustion finally catching up to me.

My eyes start to droop. I'm so tired... so damn tired.

////

Saya's exhaustion blinds her to the sudden shift in the atmosphere. Unbeknownst to Saya, the fog begins to thicken around her, swirling and creeping closer. The world seems to shift, the snow growing heavier, the air colder. Above her, the moon glows an eerie shade of green, its light casting long, twisted shadows across the park.

Slowly, the fog engulfs her, wrapping her in its cold embrace. Her breathing slows, her vision dims, and before she can comprehend what's happening...

She's gone, swallowed by the fog.

////

Somewhere, a voice echoes through the stillness. "Is it that time already?"