"As I said this morning, next you will learn how to fight," I say. From where I stand in the middle of the Training Room, I can see each of the initiates. My eyes skim over their tired and tense faces. Automatically, I begin to search for the face of the Abnegation girl. I try to tell myself that I am just merely trying to gage each initiate's mentality, but the truth is that I am attracted to her. She's a small, plain thing, exactly like one would imagine when they thought of Abnegation, and the others underestimate her because of her size. I can already tell that the other initiates have labeled her weak and don't think twice about her, at least as a threat. But they are wrong. From the moment I saw her, the determination set in her face and in her eyes and the strength that lie underneath, I knew that she would be one of them. Or us. These days I can't decide.
"The purpose of this is to prepare you to act, to prepare your body to respond to threats and challenges- which you will need, if you intend to survive life as a Dauntless." A pair of light blue eyes runs into my line of sight and a burst of energy erupts through my body. Tris. Unlike the kids around her, she is alive and awake with the same look on her face that she had when I first saw her. Despite the physical advantage of the other initiates, her core of inner strength will get her to the top. No doubt she'll get a few bruises along the way but she'll make it.
"We will go over technique today, and tomorrow you will start to fight each other. So I recommend that you pay attention. Those who don't learn fast will get hurt." Truthfully, every one of them will end up hurt, even the ones that know what they're doing. It is in this part of the stage where we will see how they react to confrontation, whether they give up or fight until the end. Eric loves watching them fight, watching them in pain. My stomach clenches as I think of Tris in the red fighting ring, getting beat up, while Eric cruelly smiles in enjoyment. Unfortunately, I know that there will be no way for her to escape it, if she has even considered that an option.
After giving them the overview, I demonstrate four different punches, first in the air and then with the bags. Sounds of dull thwacks fill the air as the initiates try the same moves on their own sandbags. It is obvious that none of them are experienced, though one of the Erudite boys, Edward, learns quickly and already looks like a professional. In the back I spot a threesome, each of them built like giants, pounding hard into the punching bags. They don't have the grace like Edward, but their force is one to wrecken with. Across the room I see Eric's eyes trained on them too. A cruel smile plays on his lips. He is probably thinking how fun it will be to see the threesome fight. They will be uncontrollable and messy, causing more hurt than necessary, just how Eric likes it. Quickly, I look away and scan the other initiates, forcing myself not to linger longer than needed on Tris, the Abnegation girl. Even by the quick peek at her, I can tell that she is already finding her rhythm.
Next, we start the kicks. I only teach them the basics, the ones that will take least of effort to do and cause the least amount of damage. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Eric sneer. He obviously doesn't like the fact that I'm making this easier for them, or less painfully. Once I finish showing them the different types, they face their own punching bag and again attempt what I have just demonstrated. If anyone of them was tired before, they sure aren't now. None of them have never trained like this and are probably surprised by how much energy and concentration each of the simple defenses take. My first instinct is to look for Tris, but I can feel Eric's cold stare on me and I don't want him to even think that something was happening between us. Technically there is nothing going on between us, but I feel protective over her and I don't want Eric to spend any special attention on her. The thought makes me want to vomit.
Fortunately, he takes his gaze off me and becomes back interested into the threesome who are violently beating on the punching bags as if they were rag dolls. Slowly, I start to walk around the room and make my way through the initiates, analyzing their movements. Tris stays in my peripheral vision and it is hard to keep my eyes from wandering towards her. She is pathetically hitting the punching bags with soft pats. I sigh and walk over to her. My eyes scan over her as she practices the movements. I force myself not to linger anywhere and concentrate on ways she can improve.
"You don't have much muscle," I say factually, "which means you're better off using your knees and elbows. You can put more power behind them." I don't hesitate as I reach over and place my hand onto her stomach. Because of her tiny frame, my hand covers the distance across one side of her rib cage to the other. Underneath my palm, I can feel her abs contracting. A spark of energy ignites within me and my heart starts to pound loudly in my ears. Tris stares at me with her eyes like saucers and I suppress a chuckle, pressing my lips into a thin line. "Never forget to keep tension here."
Unwilling, I take my hand off her stomach. I turn around quickly, not waiting for her to start practicing again. While my back is facing her, a smile tugs on the corners of my lips.