Page 34 of Seeking Shadows

“Really?” I croak, still catching my breath.

She nudges me with her elbow, a teasing grin on her lips. “At least you have good taste in music.”

Is it ironic that the same song that played the day I accidentally ran her over is the one playing now, as she beats the shit out of me? I don’t know, but I can’t shake the thought. I roll my head to the side, staring at the ceiling, the rhythm pulsing in my veins as the song keeps playing.

Fighting isn’t for me. I’m sure of it now.

Mia finally calls it quits for the day, but I know deep down it’s because she’s tired of kicking my ass. She flashes me a smile, and even though I’ve been nothing but a pain in her ass, she gives me two thumbs up, her eyes still full of that mischievous glint.

"You'll get the hang of it," she says, rubbing my shoulder gently as she hands me a water bottle. She sits down beside me, like nothing’s happened, like everything’s just fine.

“We know I won’t,” I reply flatly, my voice tinged with bitterness.

“You killed that man.”

“Yeah,” I say slowly, remembering it with a strange, detached calm. “But I wasn’t really seeing reason at the time. I acted on pure instinct and feeling.”

“So your instinct is to protect me, huh?” she teases, but I don’t find it funny.

I don’t laugh.

“I’d die trying to protect you,” I say, the words coming out so seriously that it almost shocks me. Even now, with everything between us, with the anger and confusion, I’d still die trying. Even without knowing how to fight, I’d do everything in my power to keep her safe.

Mia goes quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing the edge of the bottle in her hands.

“I miss Tokyo,” she says softly, almost like she’s not entirely sure if what she’s saying is real.

“I miss it too,” I reply with conviction, meeting her gaze. And then, a soft smile forms on her lips, one that’s bittersweet but real.

“It sucks that we can’t just kill my father like I did with your mother and leave the country,” she says, her voice light and almost playful—until she covers her mouth in sudden realization. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t talk about your mother like that.”

“It’s okay. She was a bitch anyway,” I say, almost too easily, and then Mia glances at me for a long moment before we both start laughing, the tension between us finally breaking.

Some people believe in sanctifying the dead and forgiving. Me? I don’t need to forgive my mother to move on. I need to forgive myself for all the years I treated myself like a victim. For not burning them all when I had the chance.

"Shall we try again?" she asks, her eyes gleaming with mischief, and I can't help but smile.

Yeah. Maybe we will.

The sun's out, the grass is green, and I’m seriously starting to wonder if I’ve just been outclassed by a girl who makes fighting look like a dance move. Sweat is dripping down my face as I throw another punch, but Mia's already sidestepping it, the smirk never leaving her lips. This has been going on for way too long.

"Okay, Zane, enough of this," she suddenly says, raising her hand like she's the boss. I freeze mid-punch, blinking at her in confusion.

“Enough?” I huff, still winded. “Are you kidding? You’ve barely broken a sweat while I—” I gesture wildly at my body, which is pretty much on the verge of collapse.

She shakes her head like I'm the most amusing thing she's ever seen. “You look ridiculous. This is never going to work. I’m way ahead of you, and I’m bored.”

I stare at her, mouth agape. "What do you mean bored? I’m over here trying to keep up with your insane speed and you’re telling meyou’rebored?”

Mia rolls her eyes with a dramatic sigh and throws her hands up. “Zane, you’re cute—but not in the ‘I can fight and be cool’ kind of way. It’s like watching a sad puppy trying to bite a stick. The effort is adorable, but it’s just not working.”

She pauses, eyes lighting up like she’s just had the most brilliant idea. “What if we... just skip the whole ‘learning to fight’ thing for today?”

I blink, taking a step back. “What are you talking about?”

“Wait here,” she says, already turning on her heel, leaving me confused as hell.

She disappears for what feels like an eternity. Just when I start wondering if she’s bailed on whatever plan she had, she comes back—now wearing a dress like it’s the most casual thing in the world, and carrying an oversized picnic basket clearly meant for two.

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