Notes: Requested by CottonballLOL. From the August 5, 2005 prompt for the community 31_days.
So small. His hands, arms, legs, everything was too small. Especially standing next to the other boys at the dojo, the ones who didn't cry, the ones Tatsuki-chan preferred over him, the runt. But it was fun, because when Tatsuki-chan was fighting him, he was watching her. As if by focusing on the deft movements of hands, arms, legs, he could somehow internalize that effortless grace and power. It began because she was sharp and beautiful, and he was small and innocent.
He worked hard, then harder to overcome her, to beat her at her own game, until he forgot they were playing. He was bigger, bigger than her, and the difference was increasing nonstop. Things were different now, the playful glint in her eye, the dull hardness in his. She was prideful; he was patient. She was cutting and quick; he was solid and blunt. This once was a game between children.
When he beat her, something stopped suddenly, and broke. Whether it was her edge or his force, they walked different ways home.