We head for the training hall with the last of the morning still clinging to us. The halls are quieter than usual, but not empty. A few students pass by, staffs balanced across shoulders, already focused. Kai falls into step beside me without comment, and our pace matches automatically.

  The training hall is alive when we arrive. Wood cracks against wood. Feet scuff and slide. Voices rise and fall as drills reset. The air smells like sweat, polish, and the faint bite of old enchantments worked so deep into the stone they feel permanent.

  Finn and Banks are already there, warming up near the center of the floor. They move together without mirroring. Finn presses forward, every strike committed and heavy. Banks circles and redirects, stepping in and out with quiet efficiency. They look relaxed, but not casual. Ready without rushing.

  Finn spots us first and grins. Banks follows his gaze and gives a small wave.

  “You ready?” Finn calls.

  “As we’ll ever be,” I reply, rolling my shoulders.

  Kai nods once, eyes already tracking spacing and angles. He grounds his staff without ceremony. We take our places, and the space around us opens naturally as nearby students drift back.

  No one counts us in.

  Finn comes fast, closing the distance in a burst. His staff whips down toward my shoulder. I step inside the strike instead of backing off, letting it glance past as Kai snaps his staff out to intercept the follow up. Wood rings sharp and loud.

  Banks is there immediately, slipping between us and cutting off Kai’s angle. His movement is clean and economical. He does not chase. He does not overextend.

  We separate and reset in motion, feet never fully stopping. Finn laughs as he presses again, changing rhythm mid strike and pivoting hard. I catch it just in time and block, the impact rattling up my arm and into my shoulder.

  Kai takes the opening, driving forward with a sharp strike toward Finn’s ribs. Finn twists away, but Banks steps in and redirects, throwing Kai’s balance just enough to matter. I hook Banks’s staff and shove, forcing space without trying to overpower him. He yields immediately and slides back.

  Finn is on me again, relentless and bright. Every strike forces a reaction. I give him none. Kai recovers behind me, and we shift into it without speaking. I press. Kai punishes. When Finn commits, Kai collapses the opening. When Banks tries to control space, I push him off his line.

  Banks adapts quickly. He starts baiting instead of splitting us, drawing shallow responses meant to pull one of us out of position. It works once. Kai steps in to counter and Finn clips his side hard enough to sting.

  “Careful,” Finn says lightly as he resets.

  Kai exhales and smiles thinly.

  The tempo rises. Footwork tightens. Recovery windows shrink. Sweat slicks the floor and I adjust my stance without looking. The room feels smaller, like the space itself is leaning in.

  Banks retreats deliberately, drawing Kai forward. Finn cuts across my path to isolate me. I let him. I commit to Finn and drive him back with heavy strikes that force him to block. Kai turns instead of chasing, closing the distance on Banks faster than expected.

  Banks recovers, but it costs him space. Finn breaks away to rejoin, and I intercept him, our staffs colliding hard enough to sting my palms. Finn laughs again, breathless now, and digs in.

  Someone nearby mutters under their breath. I don’t hear what.

  Banks makes a mistake. It is small, barely a fraction of a second late on a step. Kai takes it immediately, snapping a controlled strike across Banks’s midsection. Banks rolls with the impact, but it knocks him off balance just enough.

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  Finn lunges, shouting something wordless. I step into his path and meet him head on. Our staffs crack together and the sound turns heads. Finn pushes harder, grinning, and then overcommits.

  I give ground deliberately, pivot, and let his momentum carry him past.

  Kai is already there.

  His staff stops an inch from Finn’s throat.

  The silence drops clean and heavy. Finn freezes, then laughs softly and steps back with both hands raised.

  “Okay,” he says. “That’s fair.”

  Banks straightens, rubbing his side once before looking at Kai and then at me. His eyes are bright, his expression calm. “That was good,” he says. “Really good.”

  Kai lowers his staff and nods, breathing hard but steady.

  Finn grins at both of us. “We should do that again. A lot.”

  We step apart out of habit, not to continue. Around us, the hall resumes its noise as drills restart and conversations pick back up. Finn and Banks head for water, Finn talking animatedly while Banks listens and adds something quiet that makes him laugh again.

  We’re gathering our staffs when a shadow falls across the floor in front of us.

  One of the instructors has stopped nearby. He watches Finn and Banks for a moment, then looks back at Kai and me. His expression is neutral, but attentive.

  “Good pressure,” he says. “All four of you.” His gaze sharpens slightly. “Clean recovery. Minimal waste. That’s what it’s supposed to look like.”

  He taps his staff once against the floor. “Remember that.”

  Then he moves on without another word.

  Kai bumps my shoulder lightly. “You good?”

  “Yeah,” I answer. “You?”

  He nods once.

  Finn and Banks wave from across the hall, already talking about adjustments for next time. I watch them for a moment, then look back at Kai.

  “Guess we found our sparring partners,” I say.

  Kai’s mouth twitches. “Looks like it.”

  We head for the side of the hall, staffs in hand, already thinking about what we’ll change next time. The E Grade evaluation is only a week away, and for the first time today, I feel exactly where I should be.

  Finn & BanksFinn is still buzzing when they reach the edge of the hall.

  His arms feel loose in a good way, heat still humming under his skin, breath coming fast but steady. He rolls his shoulders once, then again, like he might shake the excess energy off if he tries hard enough. It does not work.

  “That was fun,” he says, grinning as he grabs a water skin and takes a long pull. “Like actually fun. Not polite sparring fun. Real fun.”

  Banks accepts the water when Finn hands it over and takes a smaller drink. His side aches where Kai caught him, not badly, but enough that he notices it every time he breathes in too deep. He presses his palm there once, thoughtful, then lets his hand drop.

  “They’re efficient,” Banks says. His voice is calm, but his eyes are still sharp. “They don’t waste motion. Not even when they’re reacting.”

  Finn laughs softly. “Yeah. And they don’t panic. Did you feel that? I tried to rush them and it just… didn’t stick.”

  Banks nods. “They move like they know where other will be, exactly where when they expect it. That changes how much risk they can take.”

  Finn leans back against the wall, staff resting loosely in one hand. He watches Caleo and Kai from across the hall as they talk quietly and gather their things. He does not miss the way they stand close even now, shoulders brushing like it is the most natural thing in the world.

  “They’re not mirroring,” Finn says after a moment. “That’s what’s weird. Everyone thinks that’s what good pairs do. Copy each other.”

  “They’re complementing each other,” Banks replies. “One presses so the other can punish. One holds space so the other can move freely.”

  Finn’s grin fades just a touch, replaced with something more thoughtful. “And they switched roles without saying a word.”

  “Yes,” Banks says. “That’s what caught me.”

  Finn exhales, slow and satisfied. “Okay. I like them.”

  Banks glances at him, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You like everyone who hits you.”

  “That’s not true,” Finn protests. “Some people hit me and I don’t like them at all.”

  Banks gives him a look.

  “…Most people,” Finn admits. “But still.”

  They fall quiet for a moment, watching the hall settle back into its usual rhythm. Somewhere nearby, an instructor corrects a stance. Wood cracks. Someone laughs.

  Banks breaks the silence first. “They’re not trying to impress anyone.”

  Finn hums. “Yeah. They’re just working.”

  Finn pushes off the wall and spins his staff once, energy finally bleeding off into motion. “Good. We’re gonna need that kind of energy next week.”

  Banks nods, eyes flicking briefly toward the instructors’ end of the hall before returning to Finn. “We should train with them again. Soon.”

  Finn’s grin comes back, bright and eager. “Already planning on it.”

  Banks reaches out and squeezes Finn’s hand once, brief and grounding. “Next time,” he says, “I won’t be late on that step.”

  Finn laughs and squeezes back. “Next time, I’ll try not to overcommit like an idiot.”

  They both know that is a lie. Together, they head back onto the floor, already replaying the fight in their heads, already adjusting.