You promised yourself that this time you wouldn't lose, but here you are, back against the muddy ground, staring up at laughing blue eyes. When was the last time you won? Hadn't you always won before? Did you get worse or did he simply get better? He laughs at you and you let out a growl, trying to wrench your arms from his hold. You're stuck, this pin is final, and struggling is simply wasting your energy. You go limp in his hold and turn your head away defiantly. He's staring at you and you know what he expects. He wants you to admit defeat. You want him to stop staring at you.
You think it's cruel, him making you admit your loss. You did it to him, many a time, though, so you suppose it's only payback. You mumble some incoherent words, pretending like you just said "You win." But it's obvious he won't settle for that. His smirk makes you want to scream and he leans closer to you.
"What was that?"
You face him, and with as much sarcasm as you can muster you let out an annoyed "You win." He sits back on your stomach, satisfied. You're more angry than usual. But this spar wasn't like usual. Usually, it's a close fight. Today…well, today you were barely a match. He could have beaten you with his eyes closed, a hand tied behind his back. And don't get me wrong, you weren't performing less than your best. You were at your best. You used your best techniques, your best everything. And he still beat you. He didn't even come close to reaching his best techniques and you still lost.
He steps off of you and offers you a hand. You slap it away from your face and get up by yourself. He invites you to lunch and you flip him off, walking away. He jogs up from behind you, asking what's wrong. You tell him to fuck off and quicken your pace. He tells you he's sorry. You ask what he's apologizing for. He answers with something that makes you stop.
"For letting you leave."
He's not talking about leaving the spar; he's talking about leaving your home. He's talking about leaving your village to join someone who, in the end, hurt you, and your chances of being the strongest ninja in said village when you returned. He's apologizing for not, at the time, being strong enough to force you to stay, and get strong the safer way. The better way.
You tell him it isn't his fault. He says he knows it is. You tell him to shut up and he slams you against a tree. He demands that you accept his apology. You can't. You can't tell him you forgive him. Telling him that would mean admitting that it was his fault, too. It was yours, there's no doubt in that, but you don't want to blame your stupidity on the only person that's still willing to talk to you, now. So you say no. He punches you in the face. You don't block it. He drops his hold on you; you're quiet and let yourself slid down the length of the tree trunk until you're sitting on the ground. He gives you an upset glare that's more sad than angry and tells you he'll see you tomorrow. Then he leaves.
You sit there and you hate yourself. You hate that you really do blame him, a little. You hate that you're angry at him for not stopping you. You hate that you can't forgive him for not hating you, too. You know he'd be better off if you just left him alone, didn't come to his door every morning, asking him to spar with you, but you need it. And you would have nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no reason to stay if he didn't talk to you, spar with you, apologize to you every day. So be thankful that he does, because I sure wouldn't.