Wuwu was madder than he'd like to admit. He was finally gaining the advantage, showing off his training, and he had to get hit by a knife and let his opponent escape. He wanted to chase them, but he knew, truly knew, that chasing an opponent that could turn invisible would be a very bad idea. So, he did what he dreaded the most: went to talk to his stepmother.
He had managed to avoid her for weeks. It's not like he hated her, she just made him incredibly uncomfortable. After all, he must've been the product of an affair, right? She had every right to hate him, he was the proof of her husband's infidelity after all. Yet she acted like it was nothing. She wasn't warm, but she wasn't cruel. She wasn't close, yet she didn't really push him away. But he could feel it, feel it like only an orphan would: there was coldness, there, behind her actions. An aloofness that implied there was something hidden under that facade. She hated him, she had to. And he didn't want to find it out, even though it would be much more convenient to get it over with. Why the hell was he so indecisive, so avoidant, so careful?! Was he a coward?!
He didn't know that secretly, on a room under lock and key on his heart, he hoped she actually loved him like a son.
Yet, there was an attack on the mansion. She needed to be informed. So he started the walk of shame to her chambers. Somehow, this was much, much harder that the fight he had just finished.