In the dim, flickering light of the underground training room, Sakura watched Zafron stretch, her eyes narrowing as he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, shaking off the weight of the earlier meeting. She tapped her claws lightly against the concrete floor, the quiet sound ticking like a countdown.
"Alright, big guy," Sakura purred, her voice carrying a sly lilt as she crossed her arms. "Time to step it up. We're not playin' in the kiddie pool no more. That enforcer's comin' at you harder than a Nexulian with his last bottle of ale."
Zafron's eyes sharpened. He knew that look; she was ready to push him to his limit. "So what's the plan?"
Sakura grinned, showing her sharp teeth as she flicked her tail behind her. "Plan is to keep you alive. We start by workin' on your speed. You got the power, sure. But if you keep takin' hits like you're some punching bag, that power ain't gonna mean squat."
'Here we go,' Zafron thought, taking a deep breath. Sakura was the most unrelenting trainer he'd had since well, since he had a trainer. But he wouldn't have it any other way.
Sakura circled him, her steps barely making a sound as she moved, eyes darting over him like a predator assessing its prey. "What's your biggest weakness, big guy?"
Zafron paused, then shrugged. "I take too long. I like to draw things out, put on a show."
"Exactly," Sakura said, smacking him on the shoulder with a quick, casual swipe. "And it's gonna get you shredded like scrap metal if you're not careful. Speed, precision, and no mercy—that's what you need to focus on. Save the artistry for when you're not the main target of someone's vendetta."
"Fine," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Show me what you got, princess."
"Oh, it's on." She grinned, cracking her knuckles. "Let's see how quick you really are."
In a flash, Sakura sprang forward, her claws arcing toward his neck. Zafron dodged, just barely, the tips of her claws grazing his collarbone as he twisted to the side. Her movements were a blur, feline and fierce, and she was on him again before he could even catch his breath.
'Damn, she's fast,' he thought, blocking her next strike, but her follow-up jab came in quicker than he'd anticipated, landing a hard hit against his ribs. He felt the impact down to his bones, staggering back.
"Slow," Sakura taunted, slipping away as easily as a shadow. "You keep that up, and you'll be dust before you even know what hit ya."
"Just warming up," Zafron grunted, steadying himself and regaining his footing. He narrowed his eyes, tracking her movements, waiting for her next strike.
"Good," she hissed, darting forward again, her body fluid as she twisted and turned, lashing out at him from every angle. "You wanna finish fights fast? Stop waitin' for the perfect moment. Create it. Control it. Like this!"
She lashed out with a kick, aimed at his stomach, but Zafron managed to sidestep, swinging his arm to counter. She dropped low, slipping under his guard and popping up on the other side, smacking him lightly on the back of the head before dancing away with a smirk.
Zafron growled, charging at her, fists raised. This time, Sakura didn't dodge. She let him come, her eyes glinting, until he was just close enough—then she sidestepped, bringing her knee up to his abdomen with brutal precision. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and he doubled over, gasping.
"See? You're thinkin' too hard. No time for that in the Pits," Sakura lectured, shaking her head. "You gotta react, big guy. Feel the rhythm. Stop overthinkin' every damn move, or they're gonna cut you down before you can even blink."
He straightened, catching his breath, irritation flaring in his eyes. "So how do I stop thinking?"
Sakura chuckled, slinking closer. "Easy. You practice until it's second nature. Make every move instinct. I mean, you see the big moves, sure—but I need you seeing the tiny ones, too. Like this."
She feinted right, and as he shifted to block her, she changed direction in the blink of an eye, coming at him from the left. She didn't land the hit, pulling back just in time, but Zafron saw how close she'd gotten. It was unsettling how fast she could move, her body adjusting seamlessly to his reactions.
"See?" She grinned, circling him again. "If you keep gettin' lost in the big moves, you miss the details. And it's those little details that make the difference between walkin' out alive and bein' carried out on a stretcher."
Zafron's jaw tightened. "I get it. Less flash, more precision."
"Exactly." She slapped his shoulder approvingly. "You got it in you, but you need to be ready for anything. People are predictable, but this enforcer? He's gonna be ready for every big move you've got."
Zafron dropped into a defensive stance, focusing on her every movement. She advanced, her steps light, swift, her tail flicking as she moved like a whip. Zafron tracked her, his gaze intense. 'Focus. Precision. Anticipate.'
She darted forward, claws flashing, but this time he was ready, deflecting her strike and pivoting quickly to dodge the follow-up attack. He blocked her next move, his fist coming up to counter with a powerful jab that she barely dodged.
"Better," she panted, a glint of approval in her eyes. "Much better."
They circled each other, both breathing hard. Zafron was adjusting, starting to move faster, his responses growing sharper. He could feel the change, each movement flowing smoother, quicker, his mind finally clearing of the unnecessary clutter.
Sakura lunged again, but this time he saw it coming, stepping back and then forward in a heartbeat. He caught her arm mid-strike, pulling her off-balance, and for a split second, he had the upper hand.
Then she twisted, slipping from his grasp with a sly grin. "You're gettin' there," she purred. "But don't get cocky, big guy. One good move don't make a fight."
"Wasn't getting cocky," he muttered, though he felt the faintest flicker of pride. She was right; he was improving. Bit by bit, each exchange tightening his control, sharpening his instincts.
Sakura darted forward again, quicker than ever, her claws skimming his side before he managed to block, and then she was gone, ducking low and slipping around him to deliver a sharp jab to his lower back.
He stumbled, catching himself and twisting around to face her. She was grinning, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of the fight.
"Fast, Zafron," she praised, catching her breath. "Real fast. But we're not done."
They trained relentlessly, sparring until sweat dripped from their brows and their breaths came in hard, ragged gasps. Sakura drilled him on movement after movement, showing him how to minimize his openings, avoid unnecessary strikes, and channel his power with precision rather than raw force.
By the end of it, Zafron was exhausted, every muscle aching, but he could feel the difference. His reactions were quicker, his moves more calculated, his strikes landing more solidly and cleanly.
"Not bad," Sakura finally said, stepping back and giving him an approving nod. "You're startin' to move like a fighter who knows what he's doin'."
"Thanks," he panted, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I needed this."
"Course you did," she replied with a smirk. "Wouldn't survive three seconds against that enforcer otherwise. But you're gettin' there. And I'm not lettin' you off easy till you're ready."
'Relentless,' he thought, though there was a grateful edge to his exhaustion. "So… how do I repay you for this?"
"Survive the match." Her tone softened, but just for a moment. "And then maybe buy me a drink. Nexulian whiskey."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "You got it, princess."
She rolled her eyes, but a small smile broke through her usual hard expression. "Get some rest. You'll need it."
With a final, satisfied nod, she turned and headed toward the door, moving with the same fluid grace that had kept him on his toes for hours. Zafron watched her go, the weight of her training advice sinking in fully now, her words echoing in his mind.
'Speed. Precision. Control.' He clenched his fists, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. This enforcer wouldn't know what hit him.
Meanwhile, Matilda watched from the sides, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she took in Zafron's every move. His strikes were sharper now, his movements quick and precise, no longer hesitant or drawn out. She could see Sakura's influence in the way he flowed from one stance to another, each step measured, calculated.
But there was something else in his gaze—a steely focus she hadn't seen in him for a long time.
'Please, let this work,' she thought, her heart thudding in her chest. Zafron had the raw power, but the discipline, the refined skill... those were new. And they were exactly what he needed to stand a chance against the enforcer coming after him. If they pulled this off, he might finally break free from the ever-present threats circling them.
But Matilda knew that her part in this plan went far beyond just watching from the sidelines. There were risks she would have to take, sacrifices she might have to make.
She clenched her fists, feeling the familiar weight of responsibility settle over her shoulders. The thought of it churned in her stomach, a mixture of anxiety and resolve. She couldn't afford to falter; they were counting on her to hold up her end of the plan. She'd put herself through her own rounds of preparation, ensuring she was as sharp as ever.
Zafron caught sight of her from across the room and paused, catching his breath, his gaze softening slightly. "Been here long?"
"Long enough to know you're getting better," Matilda replied, stepping forward. "You'll need every ounce of that, Zafron."
He nodded, wiping sweat from his brow, though his eyes searched hers as if sensing her own inner tension. "Everything alright?"
She hesitated, then forced a reassuring smile. "Just thinking about what's next. We've got a lot riding on this."
He reached out, touching her arm. "I know. But if I can pull this off—if we can—things will finally be different."
"Exactly," she murmured, feeling the weight of his words settle. They shared a look of silent understanding, both aware of the stakes.
She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. "Just keep doing what Sakura taught you. And don't forget—precision, control. I'll be there, doing my part. We're in this together."
Zafron's gaze softened, but a flicker of determination remained, his focus sharpening once more. "I won't let us down. You're right—I'll need every move I've learned to make this work."
Matilda watched him return to training, her own resolve hardening. She'd do whatever it took to see their plan succeed, for both their sakes.
'He's never been worried about a fight like this before and that's saying something since this is the same guy tht stood up to multiple bounty hunters. Whoever this enforcer is, I can tell he scares him. But maybe that's what he needs. Maybe I should stop worrying and let him wake up the beast' Matilda thought with her arms crossed.