"They're at it again," he says, as if she doesn't know. He looks tired.

She bristles. The messages from headquarters are allegedly meant to be motivators, but on the ground they look more like psychological torture. "They have no faith in you, in us."

"Then why would they have me fight at all?"

She doesn't have an answer for him. She has a few suspicions, but they are too disgusting to even be spoken. "You know why you fight. That's what matters."

He sits down, but says nothing.

"Their methods are counterintuitive. I'll mitigate as best I can so you can be at your peak."

He looks away. "Mm."

She puts a hand on his shoulder, adding quietly, "For whatever it may be worth, I have faith in you."

He reaches for her hand, covering it with his own. "Nastasha," he says evenly, meeting her eyes.

She leans in, halting only a moment to break the gaze before closing the gap between them. It isn't much more than a brush of their lips, but it is solemn and heavy, and it is soft in a way neither of them often get to be.

For a moment, they let the silence hang.

"You could get into a lot of trouble for that," he finally says, as if she doesn't know. He doesn't seem to think he's worth the trouble.