The sun peeked over the horizon, but the day began long before the light for Mai. She woke on the cold ground, every muscle aching, her eyes dry from tears that never came. Michael stood over her, silent as always, holding a small strip of cloth in his hand.
"Listen carefully," he said. "You're going out alone. It's a test. I've heard of someone who wields the power of the sunflower. Tiffany Reto."
Mai asked no questions. She only nodded.
"Remember," he continued, "this isn't a fight to the death. But if you lose, I won't train you anymore."
Mai's eyes gleamed slightly. Not out of excitement. Not fear. Just readiness.
She dressed in her red clothes. Not ceremonial—simple. Like a soldier. Her hair was now cut in a sharp bob that revealed the nape of her neck. She looked like a blade.
The area where she searched for Tiffany was a clearing in the middle of nowhere. Hills, thorns, and smoke from old fires. Mai walked silently, focused. Then—a tremor. Not of the earth, but of energy.
A yellow aura flooded the area as if the sun itself had touched down. There stood Tiffany Reto.
Short hair, piercing yellow eyes, and deliberately revealing clothes. She looked like someone who invited trouble—and welcomed it.
"So you're the little rose girl?" she asked with a smirk full of mockery. "Thought you'd be taller."
"And you... look exactly like someone the sun's gone to her head."
They both smiled. In their own way. Then silence.
The ground shook. Red aura and yellow aura collided—not physically, but like a storm of emotions exploding from body to body.
"Let's see if you're worth anything," Tiffany whispered.
They charged. Mai looked for the opening; Tiffany kicked straight to her chest. Mai flew backward, rolled, and stood up immediately.
The pain was there, but something in her enjoyed it. She rushed forward and landed a punch. Tiffany blocked with her forearm and laughed.
"Cute punch. Want another shot?"
Mai didn't answer. Just smiled. For the first time in a long while. A smile that didn't quite belong to her—or maybe it did.
They exchanged blows. Knees, elbows, kicks. Each strike said something. As if they were speaking through their bodies.
"Why are you even fighting?" Tiffany asked mid-battle. "For revenge? Justice? Dead mom? How cliché."
Mai pushed into her, shoving her back. "And you? Glory? Showoff?"
"For fun. Life's short. Might as well enjoy it."
They froze.
The wind blew between them. Both wounded. Both are breathing hard. Then—a look. One that needed no explanation.
Tiffany stepped forward, slowly. Not to fight. For something else.
"You know, you don't seem completely dead to me. There's something in there... warm."
Mai turned her gaze away. For the first time, not tactical. Hesitant.
"Quiet."
"I like quiet. It doesn't argue."
The fight continued for long minutes. But something had shifted. It was no longer just a battle. It was a conversation. A scream. A whisper.
Eventually, both stood. Crushed. Their auras are fading.
"Is it over?" Mai asked.
"That's up to you. I could leave. But there's something in you I'm not done with."
Mai said nothing.
"I'll be around, Red."
And Tiffany vanished into the trees.
Mai didn't follow. She just looked at the place where she had stood. Her fingers trembled. Not from pain. From confusion.
She didn't know if she had won. But she hadn't lost.