Chapter 5 — Wilting Confidence

It felt like an eternity after I heard the count.

I was on one knee, barely upright, breath shaking, ribs aching, fingers digging into the mat just to stay there. But somehow, that hurt more.

I came here to prove myself.

Show that Pops’ teaching meant something.

To show that the Iron Garden still had fight in it.

But as I knelt, my vision still blurry, my legs refusing to move…

All I could think was that I let them down.

Pops.

The gym.

The reason I came here.

My first moment in the League, and I couldn’t even get on my feet in time.

The pain in my ribs was sharp—but the heaviness in my chest was worse.

It made everything feel tight and small and hollow all at once.

And for the first time since I walked in the Petal Dome…

I felt afraid that maybe I wasn’t enough.

The crowd was muttering around me—whispers, sighs, a few harsh murmurs I tried not to hear.

I gritted my teeth, forcing breath into my lungs, and pushed myself a little steadier on my knee.

Then I looked over at her.

Venus stood near the cage door, perfectly calm, not a hint of strain or triumph on her face.

Her expression was empty—cold, unreadable.

But for a brief second…

I thought I saw something flicker in her eyes.

Not pity.

Not shock.

Something…softer.

So quick I wasn’t even sure it happened.

Then she turned away, her hair shifting with the motion, and started walking toward the exit without a word.

As she walked, Venus lifted a hand and rubbed the cheek I’d hit—quick, almost hidden, like she didn’t want anyone to notice.

But I saw it.

At the cage door, two figures stepped toward her.

One of them—

She looked a little like Rosie.

Same bronze skin.

Same sharp features.

Same posture—proud, steady, controlled.

Her hair glinted with a deep blue undertone, and her eyes were a cold, piercing blue-purple.

It had to be Iris.

Seeing Iris in person felt different—colder, quieter, much more controlled than Rosie.

Beside her stood a taller woman with a powerful build.

She wore dark shades even indoors, and her arms from the elbows down were reinforced with older Petal-Tech limbs, the metal joints clicking softly with each step.

She moved like someone who’d spent years fighting—steady, heavy, dangerous.

Whoever she was, she didn’t need an introduction.

Her presence said enough.

The three of them met at the door—Venus in front, Iris and the woman flanking her on either side.

They leaned in toward each other, exchanging a few quiet words I couldn’t hear.

Then, without another sound, they turned and walked away—silent, steady, confident.

Venus didn’t look back.

Footsteps echoed against the mat behind me.

“Lily!” Sunny’s voice cut through the noise, sharp with worry.

I pushed myself the rest of the way up, forcing my legs to steady even though my ribs screamed with every breath. My balance wavered, but I stayed standing.

Sunny reached me first, hands hovering near my arms like she wanted to grab me but wasn’t sure if touching me would hurt.

“Are you okay? Talk to me—Lily, seriously, say something.”

I managed a small breath, trying to steady it.

“I’m…I’m fine.”

Sunny didn’t believe that for a second.

Rosie reached me right after, calmer but no less worried. She placed one steadying hand on my shoulder, her touch firm and anchoring.

“Easy,” she said gently. “Don’t push it. Your ribs took a bad hit.”

Sunny scowled in the direction Venus had gone.

“I swear, that girl—she didn’t hold back at all!”

Rosie shot her a quiet look. “Sunny, stop. Venus fought clean. Hard…but clean.”

Sunny opened her mouth to argue, then shut it. Her eyes softened as she focused on me instead.

Rosie stepped closer, studying my posture, my breathing, the way I held my side.

“You’re standing,” she said softly. “That already says something.”

I swallowed, throat tight.

Standing felt like the hardest thing I had ever done.

Dani approached after shooting a glance at the tall woman’s retreating silhouette. His footsteps were slower, heavier—like he was choosing his words before he reached us.

When he finally stopped in front of me, his expression wasn’t angry or disappointed.

It was thoughtful.

“You fought well,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t heart that you lacked.”

Sunny blinked. “Heart? She had too much of that! She was fighting like her life depended on it—”

Rosie rested a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

Dani kept his eyes on me—not harsh, not pitying. Just… seeing me.

“You stepped in there with nothing but boxing,” he continued. “And you still made her feel it.”

“That clean hit? Not everyone gets one on their first day.”

My breath stuttered—partly from the pain, partly from the weight of his words.

“But,” he said, voice softening even more, “This league isn’t just punches. You learned that today.”

I lowered my eyes, shame creeping back in—but Dani shook his head before I could sink too far.

“Lily,” he said firmly, “don’t mistake losing for failing. You didn’t fail today.”

Sunny nodded quickly. “Yeah! You didn’t fail at all—she hit you with everything she had and you still stood back up!”

Rosie gave a small, knowing smile. “Most rookies don’t stay conscious after an elbow like that. You did.”

Their words were warm, but my chest still felt tight.

I didn’t know what to say.

Didn’t know what to feel.

“Let’s go get you checked out,” Dani said, stepping closer as the crowd began to thin.

We started toward the hallway, the noise of the practice arena fading behind us. My ribs still throbbed, every step sending a dull ache across my side, but at least I wasn’t alone.

As we walked, I turned to Rosie.

“Rosie… was that your sister? Iris?”

She looked ahead again, jaw tightening before she nodded.

“Yes. That was Iris.”

So that was Rosie’s sister… the fighter she wanted to defeat.

She exhaled slowly, almost like saying the next part tasted strange.

“And now I know why Venus’s name sounded familiar earlier.”

I looked up at her, waiting.

Rosie crossed her arms, eyes narrowing with a mix of frustration and reluctant respect.

“My sister is training her,” she said. “Iris is her senior. They’ve been working together for a while.”

A faint bitterness flickered in her voice.

“They call her “The Flower Prodigy.”

The title hit harder than I expected—sharp and heavy, settling right in my ribs.

Sunny blinked, shocked.

“She’s what?”

Rosie didn’t soften it.

“She’s one of the rising fighters in the League, Lily. She is a Seed High rank.”

She looked at me—not judgmental, not pitying, but very, very real.

“You went up against a prodigy.”

Prodigy or not… that wasn’t an excuse.

I brought everything Pops taught me—and it still hadn’t been enough here.

We continued moving so I could get checked out.

Rosie stayed close, Sunny hovering on my other side as Dani guided us toward the medical wing.

After a few quick checks in the hallway—breathing tests, a light touch along my ribs, pressure points—they eventually settled me into a small evaluation room.

The moment I sat down, the adrenaline faded just enough for the ache to settle deeper. I tried not to wince.

Sunny paced. Rosie leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. Dani stood near the door, silent, thoughtful.

Then the door slid open.

A woman stepped inside, a smooth Petal-Tech tablet glowing softly in her hands. Her light-green and white medical coat marked her instantly as League staff. Tan skin, short purple hair with yellow undertones framed her calm, focused face and her purple-yellow eyes already scanning my condition.

She didn’t smile, but her voice was steady.

“Alright,” she said, eyes scanning the data on her tablet, “it looks like nothing is broken. Your ribs will be fine, but you’re going to be pretty sore for a while.”

She tapped a few times as the soft pink-blue glow of the Petal Tech display lit her face as she swiped through my readings with quick, practiced motions.

“I’m Doctor Sterling,” she continued. “But you can call me Pan.”

She lowered the tablet slightly and met my eyes.

“Any questions, Ms. Ironwood?”

“I’m okay…no questions, Pan. Thank you,” I said, wincing as I shifted.

“You’ll be sore. But you’ll be fine.”

She gave one last confirming glance at the readings, then stepped back.

Pan glanced over at Dani.

“Dani, make sure you take care of your new fighters out there.” She said, pointing lightly at Sunny and me.

Dani exhaled through his nose, half a sigh, half a tired laugh.

“Yeah, yeah… I know, Pan.”

She nodded once, satisfied.

“I’ve got to go. Let us know if anything comes up.”

She lifted her tablet and stepped toward the door.

And with that, Pan slipped out of the room, already moving on to her next case.

As we got up to leave, Dani rolled his shoulders with a tired exhale.

“Well,” he said, glancing at each of us in turn, “we’ve had a day. Let’s head home. I’ll show you where we’ll be staying here in Everbloom.”

It was a long, quiet walk leaving the Petal Dome.

No one really talked—the kind of silence that comes after a day that hits harder than any punch.

We made it to the car, and Dani drove us through the evening streets of Everbloom. The city lights blurred past the windows, soft and distant, like everything around me was just a little out of focus.

Eventually, we pulled into a quieter area, stopping in front of a modest building—a small gym attached to a house. Not flashy. Not big. But solid. Lived-in.

Dani stepped out and gestured toward it with a small, tired smile.

“It was supposed to be a full facility,” he said, “but with the League’s accommodations, we don’t need a full facility here.”

He looked up at the building with a quiet pride.

“But this place? It’s enough.”

My eyes followed his to the sign above the door—weathered, but warm.

The Spirited Grove.

Painted in a soft light green that stood gently against the fading light.

Rosie gave a small, knowing smile—the kind someone gives when they’re already comfortable somewhere.

“It’s more than enough,” she said. “Dani keeps this place running. It’s home.”

“It’s great!” Sunny said immediately, eyes bright as she stepped inside.

A soft meow drifted from the corner of the yard.

I blinked.

A rust-colored black cat padded out from the bushes, tail swaying lazily as he stretched like he’d just woken up from a long nap.

Sunny gasped. “Dani—you have a cat?!”

Dani rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking a little shy.

“Uh… yeah. That’s Coconut.”

Rosie smirked. “Guardian of the Spirited Grove. Don’t let that name fool you—he runs this place.”

Coconut trotted straight to Dani’s leg, brushed against him once like claiming him, then wandered off again without a care in the world.

I felt something inside me ease—just a little.

After everything that happened today, seeing a soft, simple and alive… it made the Grove feel even more like a real home.

I looked around the small gym and cozy living space. Something about it tugged at me.

“It… reminds me of the Iron Garden,” I murmured.

We settled in after that, unpacking what little we brought and claiming our rooms.

The Spirited Grove wasn’t big, but it felt warm—lived-in—a real home base.

We called it a day.

The next week felt like a blur. We adjusted to Everbloom City—the noise, the pace, the crowds, the constant buzz of fighters moving in and out of the Petal Dome. Every morning started before sunrise, and every evening ended long after our bodies begged to stop.

Dani pushed us.

Hard.

Footwork drills.

Reaction work.

Bag work.

Conditioning circuits that made my legs feel like they were filled with gravel.

It wasn’t gentle, but it never felt unfair.

He was shaping us.

And through all of it, that fight replayed in my head—the hit, the fall, the count, Venus walking away without looking back.

It had been a week since I lost to her.

But the feeling hadn’t faded.

Not even a little.

After one of our training sessions, Sunny went off to take a break, rubbing her shoulders and heading for the water station. I stayed behind, catching my breath, hands on my knees.

Rosie walked toward me, towel over her shoulder, a knowing look in her eyes.

“How you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m surviving,” I said, forcing a small exhale. “Feels like Dani’s been pushing us hard.”

“He has,” Rosie admitted, leaning against the wall. “We’ve all been a little down since that spar, and he knows it. He’s trying to get us back on track.”

She nudged my arm lightly with her elbow—not enough to hurt, just enough to let me know she was there.

“Rosie… do you honestly think I can make it in the League?” I asked, my voice smaller than I meant to be.

“Lily,” Rosie said, her voice steady and warm, “I’ve seen you fight. You’ve got what it takes. Your boxing is great—but now you need more than that.”

She stepped in closer, lowering her tone.

“What matters isn’t whether I think you can make it in the League.”

Her eyes softened. “What matters is whether you think you can.”

When Rosie said that, it sank in deeper than I expected.

“Thank you, Rosie,” I said quietly.

“No problem, Lily,” she replied with a small smile. “I’m going to do some conditioning. I’ll see you and Sunny later.”

She gave me one last nod before heading off toward the weight room, towel slung over her shoulder.

I exhaled slowly, watching her go.

Could I really make it in the League?

The question lingered—no longer crushing, just waiting.

Later that day, after training had finally wrapped up, I found Dani near the side of the gym, organizing equipment. My hands felt weirdly cold as I approached him.

“Coach… do you think I’ve got what it takes to make it in the League?” I asked.

“Still wondering if you belong here after that spar, huh?” Dani asked, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed.

“Yes,” I admitted.

Dani let out a slow breath, eyes steady on me.

“As your coach, Lily… watching that fight told me something I can’t teach.”

He paused. “You’ve got heart.”

I swallowed. The word hit harder than I expected.

“Is heart enough?” I asked quietly.

“It’s essential,” Dani said, his voice firm but warm. “I could teach you everything I know—every technique, every drill, every trick in the book—but without heart, it would all be meaningless.”

I felt my chest tighten slightly.

He continued, “You’re a competent fighter, Lily. More than competent. You just need to be able to adapt—make your own style. Boxing was your family’s foundation.”

Dani tapped a finger lightly against my shoulder.

“But you’re Lilith Ironwood, the Floral Combat League fighter now. And now…”

He gave me a small steady nod.

“…you need to embrace it.”

I gave Dani a small nod and walked inside, the cool air of the Spirited Grove wrapping around me as the door closed behind us.

His words sank in deeper with every step.

Heart.

Adapt.

Embrace who you are.

I thought of Pops…

The Iron Garden…

Everything that brought me here in the first place.

For the first time since the fight, something inside me eased—just a little.

Behind me, I heard Dani exhale, quiet and tired, almost lost in thought.

He wasn’t just thinking about me.

He was remembering something of his own.