Chapter 1

The first punch always hurts.

He knocked her down in one swoop. He gave it his all and she was flat on the ground. The iron taste began infiltrating her mouth and the taste stung her tongue. She knew that he must've knocked a tooth out, or at least, loosened the molar at the back. Her whole body ached while she tried to breathe.

The girl rolled over from her back and crawled onto her knees.

People who underestimate you will be your advantage, Hana.

The child pushed herself up from the ground, swallowing her own blood. She shakily got back on her two feet, trying to orientate herself in the same sparring position she began with.

And she charged with full force without giving him another second to wonder what her next move would be if she had any energy left over from that punch. The next thing he knew, she was pushing him over and having him locked beneath her legs. She threw one punch. And then another. She hesitated for a moment before he hooked his leg over hers to flip her over.

You always hesitate. You were never born a fighter, Hana. But we'll make you one.

He looked straight into her eyes. He was hesitating too. As if they both asked each other, why are we doing this?

But with that, she refused to give up.

The elders watched as the children wrestled with each other. Their face bloodied, the bruises all over their arms and legs like they were permanently tattooed. The two grandparents looked to each other. They had been friends for years, and pitting their grandchildren against one another had been an interesting past time for the two of them.

"Enough," they heard. In an instant the children split apart, got to their feet, and bowed.

The grandparents bowed to each other.

"Next week, same time." They agreed and turned to leave to their separate ways outside of the dojo. Hana turned around just to steal a final glance at the boy she fought. He too, turned to stare at the girl he fought. He inwardly apologised for the swollen cheek he'd caused.

Sorry.

They never said it aloud.

"You should have dodged that punch," her grandfather grumbled. "Now we have to explain to your mother why your left cheek is swollen."

"I was playing on the slide and I fell over," Hana came up with the lie seamlessly. To which, her grandfather chuckled and gently patted her head.

"Child, you must put your scheming to good use. Covering up for your grandfather… it's a good start."

There was a special bond between Hana and her grandfather. She saw him more often than her own parents. Being the second child, and a girl nonetheless, often meant that she was overlooked. Not that Hana minded, nor did she even notice. Her grandfather, however, did take notice and took the child under his wing after school or on the weekends. For him, it was a fun past time, training his grandchild into a warrior.

He never had the chance with his own son, who much preferred burrowing his head in books. There was no point in forcing is son to be miserable. Before he knew it, his son was a successful business conglomerate with his computer company.

The old man was never used to luxury. What were mansions for when he only had himself left in the world? He asked for a small house, near a dojo, and a park where he could take his daily walks. All of the conditions were fulfilled in the blink of an eye, and there he was enjoying life with his granddaughter.

"Well, if it's one good thing that the Morinozuka did to you, was that he sped up the process to lose your teeth."

She smiled with her teeth all bloodied as if she didn't even notice. Hana shifted something in her mouth, and she spat out a molar into her hand.

"What if I can't eat because he's knocked out all my teeth, Ojii-san?"
"They grow back, Hana. Your teeth will grow back. Your strength will too. We'll work on your speed again the day after tomorrow. But today, we'll get you some ice for that cheek."

Hana nodded.

"You shouldn't have hesitated, Takashi," his grandfather chided. "Do not underestimate that child. She may be only a year younger but she is faster."

Mori could only nod as he watched his grandfather tend the scratches on his knees.

"She charged at you like a bull," he continued. "I didn't think she even had it in her. But that was our mistake."

Mori muffled a wince as his grandfather rubbed the bruises while he tried to loosen the muscles on the leg of the child.

"Her grandfather was my rival. We're putting both our pride on the line with you two," Mori's grandfather smiled to himself. It was an old-man's game. Nothing but to let time pass on their long days. "Not to mention, it's good training for the both of you."

Mori nodded.

The children were trained to be warriors when they knew, deep down, that they were never made to fight.

Especially not with each other.

It was a weekly occasion. Saturday, 8 AM. Rain or shine. Sick or healthy. No excuses. No exceptions.

The children never spoke to one another. They would spar for an hour, using whatever techniques they had learned over the week. Then they would go home, bruised and battered without even a word. And no matter how much they beat each other up, they'd steal a glance at each other before leaving.

It was their way of apologizing to each other.

Sorry about that bloodied lip.
Sorry for giving you that black eye.

And more than once:

Sorry about dislocating your shoulder.

Hana couldn't get away with it any longer when her mother noticed her child sneaking home with a black eye. Chalking it up to clumsiness could only work for so long. The deal was that she had to stop after she turned ten.

They sparred for 3 years, without missing a beat. Their last sparring session resulted in Hana winning.

She threw at him a kick that resulted in a broken rib. Kicking had always been her weakness. She was a puncher, a wrestler that brought him down from the bottom. Mori, once again, underestimated her during their last session. One would have expected someone to learn that lesson after 3 whole years.

They bowed for the last time.

Their first words aloud to each other was sorry, said simultaneously while their heads were bowed and their bodies still ached in pain at the end of their last session together.

Their last words were also sorry until years after.

A/N: A new story. I can't believe I'm doing this to myself. I have strayed from my usual character, Kyouya haha. But we shall see where this takes us. I can't guarantee much, but thanks for stopping by and reading.