Chapter 4 — Clash of Petals

“Start!”

The moment Dani said it, everything turned real. I was in it.

Even the chatter around us thinned to a hush—not silent, just… waiting. Like everyone knew what Venus could do.

I stepped forward, guard tight, legs light beneath me. Venus mirrored the motion, her guard rising like a shield as we closed the distance. I heard the faint rumble of the crowd gathering. Our eyes locked as we circled—slow, careful, both of us watching, analyzing, waiting.

Time to show her my boxing.

I stepped in with a light jab, just to start the rhythm, then backed off to see how she reacted.

She didn’t move.

Her eyes didn’t blink. Didn’t waver. Just tracked me like she was measuring angles, not a person.

So I kept it up—tap, pap, tat—quick little jabs to test the waters. Then I eased back again, trying to read her… but she gave me nothing.

Just as I came back in and started to move again, she finally made a move.

A straight punch cut toward me—too clean, too simple. My footwork carried me past it.

Then another came. This one I caught on my guard.

What was her angle?

She threw a third. I slipped it, and she eased back again, resetting like she’d gotten exactly what she wanted from me.

She’s trying to figure out my rhythm… Well, I can’t give her that chance.

I brought my guard up and stepped in, quicker this time, stronger this time.

Tap. Pap. Pap—Whap.

Her guard held, solid as stone.

A few people murmured at the impact—not impressed, just acknowledging it.

I slid back instantly, resetting my feet, then burst forward again—

Pap. Pap—thud.

This time I felt her guard move.

As I slid back, something in me clicked—I could break through it.

I sprang forward again. Swinging from tight angles—

Pat, tap, thud, whap—

—WHAP!

A clean hit. My fist sank into her cheek, solid and real.

Venus’s stance dropped a fraction. Not fear—calculation instead.

For a heartbeat, the room held its breath like they weren’t sure what they’d just seen.

The room felt colder when her eyes narrowed on me.

She shot back with her guard high, steps quick, clearly shaken for the first time—and I was already resetting my stance, ready to give her some more.

Her expression changed—and her whole body shifted in the same instant.

Her stance tightened like a drawn bow.

Even her footwork sounded different—sharper, slicing over the mat.

She came at me fast.

A ripple moved through the crowd—they recognized that shift; this was the real Venus.

A tight punch snapped toward my head, followed immediately by a kick. I managed to slip past the punch and slide away from the kick, but she didn’t let up. Another kick followed straight into an elbow, cutting inside my guard, sharp and hungry.

She was fighting now.

I caught the elbow on my guard and retreated, trying to reset before she crashed in again.

She opened with a low sweep, then chained it into a storm of blows coming from every angle. I tried to slip and weave, but she wouldn’t stop—each hit flowed into the next, faster and tighter than before.

The air hissed with the speed of her strikes.

I had no choice but to bring my guard up and hold it, blocking what I could, watching through the cracks, looking—desperately—for something I could use.

Then I saw it—a chance to strike back.

I had to take it.

The moment she stepped in, I fired my counter—but she pulled back at the last second, a small grin cutting across her face.

And before I could recover, her kick slammed into my ribs, a shock exploding through my side.

“Don’t show them you’re hurt.”

I forced the thought through the pain burning in my ribs.

I sprang back, but my footing was off, shaky.

A pulse shot through my ribs.

My breath came in shallow, uneven bursts—my ribs didn’t want to move.

My feet felt heavier.

Venus noticed immediately—the pleased look on her face said it all as she closed in on me.

She closed the distance like she’d already decided how this ended.

It’s not over yet…

She wanted her prey—fine. She was going to have to work for it.

Gritting through the pain, I launched forward, swinging hard. My fist grazed along her guard, just enough to make her shift—

She fired a counter of her own, and I managed to block it—but she didn’t stop.

Another strike came immediately after, faster than I could reset.

I reached for the block—but her elbow slipped right past my guard and cracked me clean across the jaw.

White static burst across my vision.

“Swing back.”

I snapped forward again, refusing to go down, and for a split second I saw it—she didn’t expect me to still be standing after that elbow.

I threw a punch, everything I had left, trying to finish this—

—but pain exploded through me again, sharper, deeper—and my legs gave out as I dropped.

The ceiling lights streaked above me as I fell.

The crowd went silent.

Even the air felt still—like the whole gym held its breath with me.

I heard Sunny gasp, and Rosie’s voice sounded so far away.

My body echoed as I hit the ground, the pain digging into me like it wanted to stay.

“One.”

I need to get up.

“Two.”

It’s not over yet.

“Three.”

Not yet.

“Four.”

I dragged my hands toward the mat.

“Five.”

I grit my teeth, ribs screaming.

“Six.”

Trying—forcing—my arms to move.

“Seven.”

It’s not over yet. It’s not over—

“Eight.”

One arm under me. One step. One inch.

“Nine.”

Her shape wavered in front of me—a blurry shadow I couldn’t focus on.

I pushed up with everything I had, my body fighting, shaking, refusing.

I can make it… I can—

My breath hitched.

“TEN!”

My knee touched the floor just a split second too late.

The mat felt miles away.

It was over.

My boxing lost.

I lost.

This is the League.