Seven

Chapter Four

That's it; he can't escape. I finally have a secure hold on him, so the only thing that's left to do now, is to send him to the ground, and this round will be mine. Maybe we can take a break after that.

But I spoke too soon, because that sneaky bitch - as always - finds a way to fuck me up. He swiftly inserts his leg behind mine, and trips me over; freeing himself of my grasp, and making me the one who comes crashing to the floor.

What a familiar surface to be on; the feeling of the rugged training mat all over my body. I can't even count how many times I've been sent to the ground today, and it's always by him; nobody else causes me so much trouble.

"Damn you Uri!" I exhale, as I slowly roll over to my back. "You just can't lose, can you?"

"Not if you are gonna get distracted all the time," he responds in his traditional teasing tone.

"I didn't get-"

"You did; you were already imagining your victory, when the fight wasn't even over yet."

"But I was so close!"

"Indeed, but you can't lose focus right before the final move; that was exactly what messed you up."

The way he is looking at me right now; I feel like I'm his younger brother, and he is scolding me. It's not a cold, or unfriendly stare, like the way most superiors talk to me, but it has a hint of care, and genuine effort to teach me something.

He isn't even a coach; he's just a regular recruit, but somehow he is better at teaching direct contact response - the name of this course - than the actual trainers.

And he isn't even two years older than me; I wonder where he gained all this knowledge.

"Ugh, you are right-" I say defeated. "-but can we take a break now? I feel like shit."

"Nah, not until you properly defeat me; that way I will know you actually learned something."

"No! Listen to me Uri, I can't anymore. We've been training for at least three hours now; I think that's enough."

"Oh cmon, one more round."

"No."

"Seven-"

"I said no."

"Do I need to come pick you up?" he asks devilishly, since I'm still laying on the ground.

"You wouldn't dare," I say in a provocative tone.

"As you wish," he approaches me, and as he tries to reach for my hands, I manage to trip him with my leg.

He falls to the ground next to me, and I start laughing like a five year old. Finally, my sweet revenge has come.

"That was unfair," he tries to sound hurt, but even he can't hold back a laugh.

We stay like that for a while - just laying on the floor and snickering mindlessly - but after the laughter dies down, we find ourselves in the training room completely alone; surrounded by a peaceful silence.

"Fine,-" he exhales eventually. "-you won; we can wrap it up for today."

"Ah, finally!" I let out a breath of relief; looks like my little trick has worked.

He stands up first, and offers me his hand. I accept it gratefully, as with how tired I am, I doubt I'd be able to stand up on my own.

But then something unexpected happens; when we are both standing firmly on the ground, he doesn't let go of my hand.

At first, I thought he just wanted to make sure I won't faint from the tiredness, but now, there is no reason for him to continue holding it.

I look him in the eyes, and then at our intertwined hands; in an effort to signal that he still didn't let go, but it doesn't seem to bother him.