The girl had white hair and grey eyes with alabaster skin. She seemed to be the same age as Sunny, but the difference in height was noticeable.
Sunny didn't know what to do. Should he nod and keep training? Say something? Just walk away?
Before he could choose, the girl took a step forward and spoke.
Walking past him, her gaze brushing the wooden odachi in his hands. "Your posture is off. Your eyes move too much. And your strikes too slow."
Her tone was aloof and steady, not a hint of doubt in them.
Sunny narrowed his eyes slightly, his grip tightening around the wooden odachi.
He straightened his posture and tensed his muscles.
And struck the dummy.
Whack!
The difference was clear, not only by the sound but how comfortable Sunny was with the blade.
Nephis stopped a few paces away, casting a glance over her shoulder.
"Better," she said. "I would recommend practicing more."
With that, the mysterious girl took a wooden longsword and took her own corner, seemingly uninterested in more conversation.
Sunny watched her as she practiced, each move precise with no wasted energy, each strike carrying meaning and the fluid grace of a swan.
He turned towards his own corner. His technique may have been correct, but every time he heard Nephis's sword hit the dummy rhythmically, he was reminded that he lacked power.
'Power?'
When she first saw the boy in the dojo, she thought he was an assassin.
Black hair, onyx eyes, and unhealthily pale skin.
After all, she didn't see him yesterday at the ceremony nor had she heard about him.
Until she realized a few things.
He seemed to be unaware of her and seemed much more interested in glancing at his shadow.
His swordsmanship was basic—so basic and sloppy that even a professional pretending to be bad couldn't be this bad.
That being said, she decided to help the mysterious boy who seemed to be around her age.
Despite being on the shorter side, only a fool could mistake him for a child.
Nephis didn't know why she bothered to help him.
She wasn't one for socializing... in fact, she was quite terrible at it.
Maybe it was because she recognized something in him—something that echoed faintly with her own beginning.
A struggle to survive?
She continued her drills, each strike landing with the same crisp sound. The repetition was calming, familiar. But as the silence between their blows stretched on, she felt something else growing—an awareness of the space they both occupied.
Nephis let out a slow breath, steadying herself. Her goal hadn't changed. Strength. Preparation. Revenge. Nothing else mattered.
Although, she still decided to use a different sword style around him.
Nothing wrong with being cautious.
It had been three nights since then.
Sunny decided to drop combat training. He could just go into the dojo in his own time and train.
It also meant that he didn't answer any unnecessary questions that might come his way.
Most of the time, Sunny just trained in silence in his own corner, either striking the dummy or doing various exercises.
He usually arrived before her, but this night, she was there before him.
'Odd.'
Sunny moved to a darker corner and began hitting a punching bag.
Of course, Sunny wasn't actually practicing hand-to-hand combat. He was simply testing out his shadow.
He felt his hits become twice as powerful, each blow faster and stronger than he could ever muster on his own.
He still couldn't understand his shadow's slightly different movements.
He couldn't see or focus on his shadow's movements because it was attached to him, so maybe...
Whack!
He threw a glance at Nephis. Maybe he could ask her to allow his shadow to attach to her?
Whack!
No, he shouldn't. He didn't want to expose any part of his aspect.
Instead, he was wondering how he could ask her to spar.
Sure, practicing his swing was good and all, but nothing could compare to actual sparring.
Whack!
She was the only one who knew about him practicing late, and she was the only one who he could really ask.
Whack!
He paused, his knuckles tingling from the impact. The punching bag swayed gently from the blow.
'This is pretty fun,' he thought.
There was satisfaction from just hitting things really hard with his fists.
'Maybe I can ask Silence for a few pointers.'
Off-topic.
He needed unpredictability, resistance—someone who could push back. A real fight, even a mock one, would reveal holes in his technique faster than a hundred perfect swings against an unmoving target.
But asking her…
Sunny glanced at her. She was immersed in her own drills, movements as clean and deliberate as always.
His strikes slowed as his thoughts churned. The training sword hung loosely from the wall nearby.
His progress would slow if he didn't ask.
'The worst she could say is no,' Sunny sighed.
Fine.
He crossed the dojo floor, quiet steps muffled by the soft padding beneath. Nephis was mid-combo—graceful, efficient, flawless as always.
He waited until she finished her sequence, the final thrust landing with a solid thud against the dummy's chest.
She wiped her sweat with a towel and stared at him, waiting.
"I want to spar," Sunny said plainly.
If she was surprised, it didn't show.
She stared blankly for a second, then nodded.
There was a brief silence. Then, wordlessly, she turned and walked toward the center of the dojo, stopping in an open space with no weapons or dummies.
Sunny followed.
No agreements.
No rules.
No small talk.
Honestly, Sunny felt a bit awkward, but he was unwilling to do anything about it.
They stood opposite each other; a couple meters apart.
She had her wooden longsword while he had his odachi.
They both raised their blades, then without a signal, they both moved at the same time.