Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

Author's Note:

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"Winners forget they're in a race. They just love to run."—With Honors

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The first time Kratos is ever in a swordfight—a real one, not sparring with Yuan—was during the class competitions and he was shaking with tension and his hands couldn't keep still. He nearly quit twice, but each time, Yuan blocked the door and told him in no uncertain terms that there was no way that they'd gone through all that training to back out now.

Sometimes, Kratos wants to hate Yuan, but at the same time, he's grateful.

"Stop fidgeting, boyo." The old man—their teacher—says sternly.

"Can't help it. I'm gonna do badly, I know it."

The old man arched thick, silvery eyebrows before digging into his pocket and tossing Kratos a flask, which Kratos nearly dropped in fumbling hands. "Take a few sips of that."

Kratos obeys without asking what the contents are and regrets it. He gags when the liquid hits his tongue, resisting the urge to spew it out. "What is that?"

"Whiskey."

Kratos scraped his tongue against his teeth, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. "That tastes gross!"

Yuan took the flask and sniffed it, taking a cautious, tiny sip. The next instant, his expression went sour. "Kratos is right. Why would you ever drink something like that?"

The old man nods at Kratos. "Helps calm the nerves."

Kratos shook his head. Never again, he vows. He wouldn't ever drink whiskey again. "Not worth it with that taste."

"Kratos Aurion!" Someone calls out.

Kratos glances at Yuan. "My father is going to be out there. What happens if I do bad?"

Yuan smiles. "Then we steal food from the kitchen tonight and celebrate anyway. You're gonna do fine. Who's had a better teacher out there than you?"

Kratos returns the smile a little tentatively. "If you say so."

"I do say so. Now get your butt out there before they have to drag you out there."

The fight is both terrifying and electrifying and Kratos can't remember anything specific. He remembers the sword first coming at him, remembers the instinct to move, remembers his sword being in his hand without him ever consciously thinking about it. He remembers the thud of the sword—they're wooden because heaven knew that the boys would kill each other otherwise—against his ribs, remembers faltering and wanting to go to his knees because of the pain, but he remembers that his father is watching, somewhere and he sees Yuan watching from the sidelines, their teacher standing tall beside him and he knows that he can't disappoint them (Even though Yuan would never say that if Kratos asked. He'd say that he was proud of him for going out there, for trying, but Kratos knows him too well to know that that was all).

Suddenly, there's a loud whooping that Kratos can hear over the sudden din that seemed to hit him like a wall of sound. He looks around, a little disoriented and Yuan is beside him, grinning wide. "You won, Kratos! You won!"

For a brief moment, Kratos forgets about his father.