When my ankle had healed again, he took me back out to the arena to continue the previously failed training exercise. This time he was being especially careful, and during the first few minutes I even had to stop him to say that I was fine, and that I wanted to train properly. It was rather annoying, but I knew that he was just worried about me.

However, it did work, and he actually allowed me to continue practicing doing a back flip, which, surprisingly, I managed on the first try. The ground had dried out now, and even though it was still cold, there was no chance of me slipping and making a fool of myself this time. It took a while for me to be able to do it without his arm there for support, but eventually I had built up enough experience that it started to feel as simple as doing a cartwheel.

It was a little awkward having him touching me, even though he was simply protecting me from falling and injuring myself again and there was nothing really affectionate about it; in fact, it may have been what gave me the motivation to learn to do it without him there so quickly. He still stayed nearby each time, watching me carefully and pointing out when I did something well or something for me to improve on. I knew that he was actually staying close so he could catch me if I landed awkwardly or put a hand in the wrong place, but I was still trying to ignore the fact that he was so caring. It only made me feel worse about the fact that I had developed romantic feelings towards him.

"Woah! That was great!" he commented after I managed to land a back flip without stumbling as much as usual, and came over, clapping exaggeratedly, before patting me on the back. This gesture was due to the fact that I ducked away as he tried to touch my hair, so he seemed to settle for that instead.

He chuckled, not seeming at all fazed by my sudden coldness, instead handing me back my gun, which he had been holding for me while I practised.

"Now that you're improving, how about we have a match?"

"A match...as in?"

"A competition. You up for it?"

"A competition?"

"Yeah!" he beamed excitedly, practically jumping up and down on the spot. Despite the age difference between us, Vashyron was usually even more energetic than I was. It didn't take much to amuse him, either.

"...What kind of competition are we talking?"

"CQC."

"What's that?"

"Close quarters combat. Hand-to-hand. No weapons. In other words, you get to punch me. Or...try to punch me, at least."

"...I don't know. It won't exactly be fair. You're so much better than me."

"And that's why we've been training for the past couple weeks. Don't you wanna find out if you've improved?"

"Well, yeah...but..."

"C'mon, Zephyr, it'll be fun." He punched my arm lightly, before adding; "Are you scared that I might beat you up?"

"...Are you drunk?"

He paused, resting his hands on his hips and raising an eyebrow at me.

"It's two in the afternoon and I'm not an alcoholic."

"Okay, relax. I was just asking."

He chuckled, shaking his head, before punching me in the arm again.

"C'mon. I'm gonna keep bugging you until you give in, so just save us both some time."

He took the gun back out of my hands before I could protest, placing it on the ground where his own jacket had been lying during our training, before walking backwards into the middle of the arena, motioning with his finger for me to follow him.

It wasn't so much that I didn't want to do it; anything that meant I could practice was good in my eyes, but Vashyron was so much better than me at everything it was sometimes scary, and as I made my way towards where he was standing it felt like I was walking to a death sentence.

"Okay, here's the deal. Think of this as a training exercise," he said as I approached him, "Just think of me as...a common thug or something. Now you have to think about what you would do if you were caught off guard and didn't have any weapons to protect yourself."

"Okay. What if the thug had a weapon?"

"We'll get to that another time. For now, he's unarmed."

He took his own handgun out of the holster on his thigh, showing it to me, before placing it on the ground and sliding it across to where the rest of our stuff was.

"Alright. Got it." I nodded, trying to quickly bring to memory everything he had recently taught me about self defence. Luckily, I had been listening for the most part, but that didn't mean I would be able to beat him. The difference between us in both skill and experience was too wide to even think about.

"You ready?"

"...Yeah. I think so."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth I was knocked onto the ground as he kicked my legs out from underneath me.

"You don't look ready to me. Didn't you see that coming?"

I glared up at him from where I was lying the ground, but it didn't faze him at all, and I saw what I could have sworn was a smirk twitch at the corner of his lips.

"You didn't say go," I said between gritted teeth.

"If someone attacks you are they going to explicitly state 'I'm going to attack you now'?"

"...No."

"There you go. This is what the training is about. You have to be prepared for anything."

I know that he was much better than me, but I wasn't about to let him hog all of the glory. I pushed my hands against the ground behind my head; using that and the weight of my body to flip myself back up off the ground, and aimed a punch at his face.

However, he saw it coming and immediately caught my hand in one of his own, twisting my arm behind my back.

"Are you actually trying?"

He held my arm tighter as I tried to struggle out of the grip, pulling me closer to his own body.

"Why would I actually try and hurt you?" I said, knowing that my frustration was showing in my voice.

"I'm a thug, remember? What if I was trying to steal your money or something?"

"I don't have any money."

"Hypothetically."

"Then I'd kick the shit out of you."

I heard him laugh close to my ear and felt his breath on my neck. It was making it a lot harder to concentrate, especially considering the fact that I could feel his body pressed against my own. At the moment I was stuck between wanting to be annoyed at him and being unable to.

"And I want you to. If you could kick the shit out of me I'd be very happy that my student had become so skilled."

He chuckled again and I felt a shiver run down my spine, before I decided that this situation was only going to get more awkward, and I had to get out of it, so I pulled back my free arm, bringing my elbow into his stomach.

He didn't seem very hurt by it, but it caught him off guard and he loosened his grip on my wrist enough for me to pull away from him. I decided to take the chance to try and actually do some damage, bringing my leg up towards the side of his body, but once again he didn't even flinch, catching my ankle more tightly than he had been holding my wrist.

But I wasn't going to let him get away with it, and I decided to try and use what he taught me, dropping my hands back onto the ground and again using my body weight to flip myself over, forcing him to let go. It wasn't exactly a back-flip, but it had at least put some distance between us, and judging by the look on his face he seemed impressed.

It didn't last long as I aimed another kick at him, this time connecting with one of his knees. I was ready to be pleased with myself for knocking him over when he grabbed my ankle and pulled me down onto the ground with him, pinning my arms in a split second so I couldn't get back up.

"Very good," he chuckled, nodding, "You nearly had me there."

He wasn't out of breath at all.

"But right now I'd be taking your wallet," he added as I stared up at him.

I was in the middle of trying to ignore the fact that he still had me pinned to the floor.

"I...I don't have a wallet."

He paused for a few seconds, watching me, before I felt his grip on my wrists loosen and he got up, laughing and holding out his hand, which I took. He pulled me up off the floor with no effort whatsoever, before heading back over to get his things from the ground.

"That was really good. I know you probably don't think so, but I'm serious. Considering how long you've been training compared to how long I have, you should be proud of yourself. I am."

I spent a lot of the walk home thinking about those words, and he spent a lot of the walk home talking about how much I was improving. Apparently, if he had been an actual thug, I would have easily beaten him. I'm not so sure.

As we reached the front door of Vashyron's house he stopped me with a hand on my chest, and once again I was forced to look him in the eyes, feeling my chest tighten as I did.

"You know, I've been thinking, and...maybe it's time you started coming with me on jobs."

I stared at him blankly, a mixture of excitement and nerves quickly building in the pit of my stomach.

"...A...are you serious?"

"I am. You're getting really good. Besides, I could use a partner," he smiled, ruffling my hair gently, before unlocking the door and going inside.

After a few minutes of standing there frozen in place, I followed him in, finding him hanging his jacket in the wardrobe.

"B...but...are you sure? I mean...I want to. I really want to...but...it's your job. I can't just...tag along. What if I mess something up?"

He came over and shut the front door behind me, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Zephyr, you won't mess anything up. We'll start with something easy. I promise. But the other day didn't you tell me that you would like to have a job like mine? Well, now you can, because I'm hiring you."

My jaw practically dropped to the floor, and I stared at him as he disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with two glass bottles of Cola, pushing one of them into my hands.

"...You're hiring me?"

"Yeah. You come with me and help out on the jobs and I'll give you a cut of the profits. Sound fair?"

He took a sip from the bottle, leaning against the wall next to me.

"Yeah...I mean...of course. I...can't believe this is happening. Are you sure you want me to work with you?"

"I'm sure. Relax."

I couldn't help the smile that pulled at the corners of my lips as I stared at the bottle between my hands.

"Thank you."

He patted me on the shoulder gently, before making his way across the room and flopping down onto the couch, switching on the television. After taking a swig from my own bottle of Cola and removing my jacket, I decided that for once I would join him.

I kept my eyes on the TV screen the whole time, but saw out of the corner of my eye that he smiled at me.

"Welcome to Team Vashyron."