A/N: Alright, so this is the last chapter I have rewritten. I hope you guys have been enjoying the rewritten story so far. If you like the direction it's going, let me know! To all of my readers that have been here since the beginning, I'm sorry. You guys are awesome and thanks for sticking around for so long. Personal stuff happens as I'm sure you guys know. But I'm finally in a place where I can seriously get back into writing.

I'm writing the next chapter right now, so stay tuned after this. And don't forget to let me know what you guys think of the new rewrites! You guys are awesome.


Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent.


Az

The next morning dawns bright and early. I'm sore everywhere – even in places I didn't know could be sore – and getting dressed is painful. Aaron offers to hold the blanket out for me again, but I shake my head. I need to be fearless. Nobody else cares about us seeing their body, why should I?

"Nice abs," the Japanese girl in the cot across from me compliments. I can't remember her name, but I'm pretty sure she's from Erudite. "They really work you guys hard at the farm, eh?" I smile, ignoring the blush that tints my cheeks.

"Guess so. Thanks."

"No problem," she says, holding out her hand. "I'm Mikazuki from Erudite. Call me Zuki."

I shake it. "Az, Amity."

"I know," she says with a smirk. She's extremely pretty with long, straight black hair, porcelain skin and perfectly slanted coal black eyes. "You're making waves, Az from Amity, and I wouldn't be surprised if everyone in Dauntless knows who you are by now."

I raise my eyebrows in surprise, but before I can reply she turns to Aaron and greets him with polite familiarity. What does she mean by making waves…?

"Let's go!" Six yells.

There's barely any time for breakfast before we are shuffled off for our morning run. I'm impressed that Aaron and Zuki keep pace with me the entire time, especially since I pick it up a bit since yesterday. Afterwards we're taken to the shooting range where we practice with our guns again. My shoulders and hands are sore from yesterday, but I soon get lost in the rhythm of empty the chamber, reload the clip, slide it into place and repeat. Beside me, Zuki finds a trick to getting the magazine reloaded faster, one that she teaches to both Aaron and I.

After lunch, we walk into the training room where there's a chalkboard with names on it.

It's time for the fights.


I'm paired up with a Candor boy named Ryan. He's tall – taller than Four – but not nearly as beefy. Zuki is paired up with Lindaela – "I'm gonna rock that bitch so hard her ancestors will be dizzy." – and Aaron fights against another Erudite named Roger.

Aaron's up first. He and Roger are pretty even in height and stature, so there's no telling who will win. They lock up, grappling for a while before Roger flips Aaron onto his back and punches him a few times. Four calls off the fight after both are bloody and bruised. It was pretty even the whole time.

The next fight is between two boys I don't know, and then it's time for Zuki and Lindaela. I feel a flare of smugness at the quiet fear in Lindaela's eyes – Zuki, with her tall, sturdy stature and hard, unfeeling coal eyes, is intimidating. I'm glad I'm on her good side. Zuki immediately slips into a defensive position, almost daring Lindaela to come make the first move. She takes the bait and charges, and suddenly Lindaela is on the ground crying, her face stuffed into the mat with blood seeping from her nose and an arm twisted violently behind her back.

"That's enough," Six says lazily.

Aaron and I share slightly concerned looks. Our new friend is a badass – a very scary one.

Eric walks into the room, not even looking at the board. "Next up, first jumper, last jumper."

Six opens her mouth and looks like she's going to indignantly respond but Four puts an arm on her shoulder and she huffs instead, deflating like a balloon.

I walk up to the mat, removing my shoes. Ryan does the same – guess we were paired up as first jumper to last jumper anyways – and we stare uncertainly at each other from across the mat.

"Begin," Four calls.

I've never been in a fight before, but punching him in the face seems like a good idea.

I do just that, hopping up and down while holding my hand as Ryan stumbles backwards, cupping his nose and glaring at me with hatred in his brown eyes.

We start circling each other, each looking for a weakness to exploit. He runs at me and I let out a surprised oof as he spears me to the floor. Straddling my waist, he lands a few extremely hard punches to my face. Not wanting to lose consciousness, I wiggle out from underneath him. While he's still on his knees, I take a running start, jumping into the air and turning sideways. My knee connects to his face with a sickening thud and we both fall to the floor, me panting and Ryan howling with pain.

"Crazy bitch," he spits as we lay there. His once-light-brown nose is now purple and mottled and I can't bring myself to feel bad. My brain is muddy from the punches and my left eye won't open.

We get up at relatively the same time. He easily blocks the weak kick I throw his way before punching me one last time and I'm down and out.


I wake up slumped against the wall facing the mat where fights are still going on. Eric is crouched in front of me, some unnamed emotion playing on his handsome face.

"Did I win?"

"No."

I sigh, holding a hand to my head, which is throbbing painfully.

"What do you want, Eric?" I ask. My entire body is aching and sore and my brain feels like mush and I do not have the patience to deal with him right now.

He sighs, running a hand through his lightly styled dirty blond hair. "When I figure that out, I'll let you know."

We sit there for a few more moments, lost in our own thoughts. I definitely need to train harder for my next fight – I can't lose like that again.

Especially not in front of Eric.


Uriah waves Aaron, Zuki and I over to a table containing the same people we sat with yesterday. We sit, Zuki looking vaguely uncomfortable at sitting with our trainers and a Dauntless leader, but she doesn't say anything, simply picks up her burger and chews quietly.

"Looking good, Mama," Uriah compliments with a grin, lightly kissing my bruised cheek in greeting.

I'm looking at Eric as Uriah speaks. His fists clench tighter and he looks murderously at Uriah as he kisses my cheek.

Realization dawns in me and I inwardly grin. How could I have not noticed it before? Eric's jealousy is so obvious. I only pray that I'm right, otherwise I'm going to be really embarrassed.

"You too, sexy."

The entire table falls silent and stares as I playfully return Uriah's flirty banter. Uriah himself is staring at me with raised eyebrows like he can't believe I'm finally playing along.

And Eric looks like he's going to burst a blood vessel. Perfect.

"What?" I ask innocently as I scoot closer to Uriah. "I've finally realized the folly of my ways. You are the only one for me, Uriah dearest. I cannot pretend to reject your advances any longer!"

I swoon into his lap and he grins wickedly as he catches me.

"It's about time, Mama."

Aaron chuckles as he watches the scene. "Methinks the fair maiden needs a kiss! Look at how sallow and unwell she is without your kiss, Prince Uriah!"

I can't help the snort. If Uriah is a prince, then I'm the queen of the damn universe.

"Methinks you are right, Pageboy!" Uriah says. Aaron visibly wilts at the title of pageboy.

Uriah leans in, and I don't stop him. Just a bit closer...

The entire table vibrates as Eric slams his tray down with a ferocious bang. Uriah jumps away from me with a stricken expression. Everyone in the cafeteria watches as Eric storms out of the room. Only a few make the connection. Six and Four, for example, watch Eric's retreating back, then turn to look contemplatively at me.

I guess that answers my question.


Eric

She wasn't supposed to flirt back.

Uriah is grating. I couldn't stand him before, and now that he's fawning over the girl I've mentally claimed as mine he's nearly unbearable. Him lavishing his attention on the Amity girl I could handle. But she wasn't supposed to respond to his attentions. She finds him annoying; I know she does. I can see it. So what changed?

I let out a huff and hit the bag harder, sweat dripping down between my eyes.

A small, soft hand touches the expanse between my shoulder blades and I immediately stiffen. It's late; nobody comes out here to train this late. I turn and see the girl that's been plaguing my entire existence for the past 48 hours standing in her unisex black cargo pants and the same sports bra she wore two nights before. Her long dark curls are pulled into a ponytail and a light sheen of sweat covers her body. Probably out running again.

"Teach me?"

I mentally frown as I recall her fight earlier. While impressive, it was obvious she had no idea what she was doing. The moves Four taught them were all wrong for her body type; she was small and light and needed to attack quickly and swiftly instead of going for powerful and strong.

I want to tell her no, to reject her and give her a punishment for being out so late. I want to tell her to go to Uriah for help, but I don't because I don't know how I'll handle the look of disappointment and hurt in her eyes if I do, so instead I sigh and nod and pretend like I don't feel ten times better after watching a beautiful smile light up her face.

Keeping track of time is difficult as I teach her move after move, attack after counterattack. She's a quick learner, eager to master each new thing I teach her; if all initiates were like this, I think, I wouldn't mind being a trainer.

After she repeats the moves enough times for them to be nearly automatic, I have her perform them on me. I make sure to emphasize speed – she's tiny and agile and that's her biggest advantage. Once she gets the hang of it, she twists and ducks and dances around me. She's fast, fast enough that I know it'll take a lot for someone to catch her in the future. That information makes me feel a little lighter inside for some reason.

My apartment is in the same direction as the transfer dorm, so we walk together out of the training room and down the endless corridors of the Dauntless compound.

"Do you train like that every night?" she asks, breaking the silence between us.

"Sometimes," I answer, fighting the urge to just say 'no' and effectively end the conversation.

"Hm," she replies, looking spaced out, dark chocolate eyes unfocused. I stare hard at her, as if I can somehow learn what she's thinking, telepathically. "You really shouldn't scowl so much."

I blink in surprise. Where did that come from? "Why?"

She smiles, crinkles forming around her almond-shaped eyes and making my brain shut off. "Because I think you'd look cute if you smiled more."

Waving, the little Amity girl skips off and into the transfer room in a flash of dark curls against sun-tanned skin.

I stare after her, not entirely sure how to respond to that. I'm caught somewhere between "I am not cute" and "She thinks I'm cute?"

In a daze, I walk the rest of the way to my apartment and undress, dropping my clothes to the floor before flopping onto my bed. This is dangerous – I am starting to want more than just her body; I want to know more about her, learn the way she thinks, keep her safe. The urge to talk to her is getting harder and harder to ignore, a problem I've never had with a girl before. I don't care about talking to them. So what's different about her?

Everything, I decide. Everything is different.

As I fall asleep, I dream of dark chocolate eyes that turn amber in the light and dark, wild curls that feel like silk underneath my fingers, leaving me breathless and feeling something unnamed, something so strong that it makes my chest feel tight.


Bonus: Uriah

I lean against the chasm railing, eyes closed and simply letting myself be. The air is crisp and cool, cold enough to leave goosebumps on my arms but not cold enough to require more clothing. It's nice to be out this late, when everybody else is asleep – so quiet and peaceful. It's my favorite time of the day.

Footsteps are heard in the distance and I frown. Who can be up this late? I scramble behind a rock so as to not be seen and to my utmost surprise, Az and Eric are walking from the direction of the training room, both sweaty and shirtless. I raise an eyebrow at the sheen that covers Eric's naked chest and soaks through Az's sports bra. What the hell have they been up to…?

My right eyebrow joins the other one in my hairline as Eric puts a hand at the small of Az's back, guiding her down the correct tunnel once they cross the chasm. She doesn't shy away from his touch or look scared – in fact, she's smiling as if she's enjoying the weird silence they share as they walk. It's a smile I've never seen on her – small and secret and… shy?

Oh. The realization hits me like a truck. That's why Eric stormed out earlier at dinner – he was jealous. I frown. I wouldn't have flirted with her like that if I knew she belonged to Eric. He'd throw me off the chasm bridge just for fun, never mind what he'd do to me if I had actually managed to kiss his girlfriend. I shudder at the thought. I almost kissed Eric's girlfriend.

Then I grin wickedly. Eric has a girlfriend. Not just any girlfriend, but Az, my feisty, fiery, hot-tempered Azalea flower.

This is going to be interesting.


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