"That is all for today ladies." Madame barked. Liked trained robots Natasha watched the other girls file from the room. Perfectly trained ballerinas with skill sets they'd never need on the stage.
"Natasha!" Madame's voice pierced the air.
She gathered her pointe shoes and hurried to face her teacher. "Yes, Madame." She breathed.
Madame stroked her cheek and gently tipped her chin up. Natasha looked the woman in the eyes. She knew exactly what she would say. This Red Room had raised her. This woman had broken her and built her back up.
"Sloppy." She huffed and released Natasha's chin. "You're pretending to fail. I have taught you better. Why?"
At 18 she had days left before she graduated. Graduation… Natasha closed her eyes. A sharp slap stung her face. She knew better than to flinch or show pain. She stood up straighter.
"Little girl…" Madame cooed, "You think you will fail?"
"I can't do it." Natasha said shortly.
"You will do it. Or 8 years will have been for nothing, Natasha. You will do it. There is no other option." Madame grabbed her arm. Natasha recoiled and tried to brush the assault off.
"Weakness is beneath you. You've learned that already. We shall set up a refresher for you." Madame snapped her fingers and two men dragged Natasha through the door to the room with the black floors. Black floors that hid the blood stains and the gouges from fights to the death.
The doors snapped shut and Natasha was left in pure silence. Her heart thudded as voices echoed outside. There weren't many girls in the academy. Who would they be selecting for her to fight? Heavy boot steps were heard. Fights brought together both branches of the academy. The winter soldiers in training and the future black widows.
Natasha breathed quickly as light flooded the room and two orderly lines entered. The boys lined up against the right wall and the girls to the left. She scanned the room and instantly knew who she'd be fighting. Alina. Alina Markov. She knew she was stronger than Alina. Alina was the only girl near her age in the academy. Her friend.
She didn't dare look to the right. She already knew who's eyes she'd meet. The boy she wasn't allowed to talk to. The boy she had a habit of always running into between her trainings and his. The boy she seemed to always be placed next to in the weapons classes the winter soldiers helped oversee.
Alina stalked into the room and the teachers snapped the doors behind her. No one would be leaving until there was payment. Death.
Natasha dropped the pointe shoes in her hands and moved to the center of the room. Her black leotard and pristine white tights and skirt seemed so out of place for a fight. When she was sent out on practice trainings she wore clothing with purpose. This outfits only purpose was to make her feel like a well trained puppet. Alina was tall and blonde, and as Natasha knew, weaker than her in combat.
Alina charged first and spun around aiming her leg at Natasha's face. Natasha dropped to the floor in a cat like crawl and swept her leg forward, knocking Alina off the foot the centered her. A cheap move but effective. Natasha lunged forward and blocked a blow from Alina's fist. Natasha hissed as the blow landed against her ribs. Sloppy! She could already hear Madame critiquing her. Alina scrambled to her knees before Natasha doubled her efforts and tackled her.
Alina's hand dug into Natasha's red hair and ripped it from the perfect bun. Her long locks unfurling around her as she yelped from the pain. Natasha pinned Alina after landing a perfect punch to the girl's cheek. She heard comments of approval from a teacher as Alina expertly broke the pin and shoved her off. Natasha tumbled back onto the floor and coughed as the wind was knocked from her. Alina capitalized and took a cheap shot to Natasha's ribs. Pain blinded her vision. She yelped and rolled away capturing Alina's foot mid kick and twisting it hard to the right. Alina's scream reverberated off the walls.
Natasha grabbed Alina's hand and worked to pin her on her stomach. Her hand slipped and Alina's elbow connected with her face. She tumbled back, blood pouring from her bitten tongue. Natasha coughed and hurried to her feet. She charged at Alina, leaping into the air and twisting her legs around the girl's neck and hurling her to the ground in a beautiful flip. Alina's body hit the ground with a sickening thud. Alina was injured, and crawling away from her. Natasha grit her teeth and hurried forward. She grabbed Alina's shoulder and rolled her over to finish the job.
Alina spit in her face and swung her fist against her head. Sparks flashed in her eyes and the world went black. She felt herself falling and then nothing at all. When she came too, Alina was on top of her with her hands tightening around her throat. Natasha couldn't breathe. She flailed her legs and clawed Alina's fingers. Drawing blood from the ruined tender skin.
Alina screamed and pulled Natasha's head off the ground and slammed it back down. Panic set in. She was dying. Alina was going to win. She didn't want to fail. How stupid had she been? Natasha snapped Alina's fingers with ease and that gained her access to air. She coughed and gagged for air as she hooked her legs around and rolled Alina over. In a second she was pinned and Natasha forced Alina's hands away as the girl grappled for her hair.
"You're weak Tasha!" Alina spat.
Dirty tactics. Madame would not be happy. Trash talk was not a tactical maneuver that the red room girls were taught. Natasha hissed and in a swift snap, Alina's neck was broken. Natasha panted and stood up. Her blood red hair flowing around her shoulders that matched the blood on her hands, face and tights. Her ballet outfit was ruined.
Her teachers approached her, Madame was first. "Beautiful, Natasha. Perfect." Madame cupped her face. She hated the way their praise made her feel. "Have you learned your lesson? Do you know why you fought Alina?"
Natasha nodded, "She was weak. I was not." A hard lesson to learn.
"There will be more fights if you continue this childish act. You will do your tests and pass with perfection like we all know you will." Madame stroked her hair and cupped her face again. "Russia needs you. You have a purpose."
Natasha nodded and accepted a wet rag someone had handed her. She wiped the blood from her face.
"Go on to medical, Tasha." Her weapons teacher smiled as the other trainees filed out. "Get fixed up before dinner."
Madame handed Natasha her discarded pointe shoes and pointed her on the way to medical wing.
She walked along the hallway, when two fingers hooked around her wrist and tugged her gently. She smiled and slipped into the alcove and shut the door to a closet.
"Tasha…." He breathed and pulled her into a hug. She grimaced and sank into his touch.
"James…" She was surprised.
This show of affection was unlike him. They had a system of flirtations. Quick whispered talks and notes. So many notes hidden under her pillow, inside her pointe shoes, wedged in the barrel of a gun he had just used. It was forbidden. Fraternization with the soldiers was a very serious offense. She didn't know if it was discouraged by his superiors as seriously as it was by hers. The consequences were more dire for her. After her graduation lovers, men, and complications wouldn't matter. She couldn't be influenced after graduation. But before the procedure… she had heard of girls who had gotten themselves in trouble. They were never seen again. "What is this?" She breathed quietly as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.
"I thought…" He admitted.
"So did I." She laughed. "She almost did kill me." She held onto his hand as she talked.
James looked down at her, "You're a mess, Tasha." He lifted the rag and wiped a mark on her cheek.
"You know what we do is messy." She raised an eyebrow and looked up at him.
He nodded at the collective we that she used. "Why'd they make you do that? Isn't for the weak ones? Tasha you are not weak."
She sighed and continued toying with his hand, "I was playing weak. They punished me for it."
He frowned, "Why?" His hand stopped her from fidgeting. "Do you have a death wish?"
She lowered her eyes, "I'm afraid, James." That tough exterior she worked so hard to maintain melted before him.
James nodded, "Fear is a motivator, Tasha. Don't let it stop you."
She grimaced, "You don't understand what will happen to me in a few days."
He looked concerned, "Tell me. You've never said explicitly what happens when you graduate." All of his feelings for her were present in the gentle ways he touched her. The way he treated her like she was breakable, despite the fact that he knew she could kill him in at least 10 different ways. She'd never admit that she liked that he treated her like she was fragile. It was a relief when every minute of every day she was expected to be shatterproof, cold, and calculative.
A shudder ran through her body, "James… I have to get to medical. They're waiting." She tugged her hand away.
"Don't push me away Natasha." He said quietly. "Talk to me."
"No, James. Not now." She leaned toward the door. Her injuries prevented her from sudden movements.
He blocked the door and held her hands gently. Her fingers resting against the cool metal of his engineered arm. "Meet me after lights out."
She laughed. "Have you forgotten that I'm handcuffed to my bed?"
James winked at her, "You're a world class assassin. You're telling me you can't slip a handcuff?"
Natasha rolled her eyes. "If I manage to, then where do I go?"
"The alley alongside the academy. Wear something nice." He kissed her cheek and nodded towards the door. "Get along to medical."
She smiled softly and slipped out of the closet. James had never done something like that. Kissing her cheek confused her and complicated things.
