Ghost grunted as his back hit the ground, the wind knocked from him. For a moment he lay stunned, blinking up at the training room’s high ceiling as he caught his breath.

You leaned over him, a grin spreading across your face. “Not so mighty now, are you?” you teased. After your lengthy sparring match, victory was sweet. Ghost had proven a formidable opponent as always, but in a rare slip he had left himself open and you did not hesitate to press your advantage.

He scowled up at you, cheeks flushed from exertion. “A lucky blow, that’s all,” he grumbled. But you saw the glint of respect in his eyes, and knew he acknowledged your skill, for this time at least, exceeded his own.