"Jill, wanna do something?"

I twirled the apple slice around my fingers. "What do you have in mind?"

Sydney gazed at the kitchen ceiling. "Not sure. We're the only ones here, so we can either do something in the house or elsewhere."

I didn't know what she had in mind. As for me, I wouldn't mind watching a movie. I recently discovered that I love horror movies. The past weekend, I sat on the couch and binge-watched an entire horror series of a masked murderer. Tim tried watching it with me, but he kept closing his eyes and screaming.

Sydney wasn't a fan of horror movies—or movies in general, so that was off the counter.

"When do the others return? We could do something with all of us."

"They won't be home till late. They've gone bowling, which takes hours. Let's see, right now it's 9:07. They most likely won't be back till midnight."

I took a bite of my apple. For some reason, I thought it would be more magical.

The taste was no different from apples in the outside world.

Sydney continued. "When was the last time you did physical activity?"

I focused my eyes on her, surprised by that sudden question.

"Physical activity? Like, walking, running, and such?"

"Well, yeah, I guess. I was thinking more like sparring."

"Eh, you want to spar? Where is this coming from?"

Sydney pushed herself off the counter. "Just an assumption that you know how to fight. Being an outsider and all."

"Are you saying outsiders are violent?"

"We're taught that in school. We didn't know any better—being ignorant and all."

I took another bite of an apple slice and spoke with one hand covering my chewing mouth. "How did these outsider support organizations form? Isn't everyone being taught the same?"

"They're formed by human rights activists. Outsiders are still human. Those organizations believe SCAR never gave outsiders a fair chance and shunned them as 'savages' too quickly." She looked at me dead in the eyes. "I know that you are nothing like that."

I grinned and shook my head. "You think too highly of me."

Her elbows rested on the counter with her palms holding her head. "Why do you think that?"

"I'm not going to go into it," I said sternly. I didn't want to dump my entire life right here.

She slapped the counter twice. "Let's go spar, shall we?"

"Where?"

She smiled broadly. "In the backyard. I'll turn on the lights."

We walked into the backyard. The white fence gave the yard a rectangular shape, and the ground was evenly laid out throughout. Not a single lump was there.

Sydney turned on the backyard lamp, which was brighter than expected. It was my first time being in the backyard at night, so it felt different.

"Do you know how to spar?" I asked while Sydney reached down to her toes, stretching her hamstrings.

"A little. My dad owned a self–defence studio. I used to go when I was younger."

"I see. When was the last time you sparred with anyone?"

She looked up and stretched her arms across her body. "Eh, two years ago? Ya, that sounds right. Are you not going to stretch?"

I was surprised by that question. There was no time to stretch in the middle of a battle, so why stretch during a friendly sparring match? Maybe my thinking was flawed, but I couldn't find a reason to stretch.

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"I'm good," I replied.

She jumped high into the air with her knees touching her chest. "Ok, I'm good. You ready?"

I nodded and got into a loose stance.

Sydney took a deep breath and did the same, though her stance was more structured.

"I'll go easy on you," I assured.

She smiled and charged right at me.

I was surprised by her quickness and stepped back into a defensive stance.

Sydney threw quick, yet weak punches towards my face. I easily parried and went for a friendly counter–a step–through punch to the abdomen. Surprisingly, she reacted fast enough and adjusted her body to the side, completely evading my attack.

I had to give a small compliment.

"You're quick."

She didn't react or respond. Instead, Sydney carefully circled me, almost as if I were the sun and she was a planet. She walked on her toes, which I found odd. Maybe a specific style?

Sydney quickly stepped in and landed a strike right to the floating ribs. I let my guard down and didn't have to react. She adjusted her body and, with a hammer fist, aimed right at the bridge of my nose.

I was shorter than she was, so she had the reach advantage. I raised my forearm and blocked her strike, though she pivoted her foot and delivered a side kick to my stomach.

I stumbled and landed on my rear.

"Sorry," she said. "You ok?"

"All this time… I was going easy on you." I pushed myself up. "You've done more than self–defense classes."

She chuckled. "It's been a while since I've sparred. I'm a little excited."

"Well, time to turn it up a few notches."

I charged into her.

Our arms clashed. Every strike from both of us was blocked. I had to keep up with her quickness.

I focused everything on the person in front.

That person isn't Sydney, but rather an opponent.

Nothing I threw struck her body.

Nothing she threw struck my body.

I aimed a punch at her face and saw a smile broader than ever. Her eyes glimmered in the night.

Seeing that made me smile as well.

I was used to sparring with Owen back in the outside world. Owen wasn't a particularly skilled fighter. He kept up with me to an extent, but got tired very easily. He couldn't take a punch to the gut without whining.

That was my training partner for a bit.

I haven't sparred anyone on my level or better since the Baraic Cult.

This sparring session wasn't only for physical activity. It was something much more. It was rejuvenating. It was remarkable.

I haven't felt this alive in forever.

The rush of sparring a training partner on my level kept me going.

Could Sydney say the same?

She threw a kick at my knee. I raised my leg and stepped around her strike. There were two openings. One in the ribs, the other to the chin. Guarding both at the same time was impossible. It would be logical to protect the face and let the ribs take the brunt of the beating.

I swung at the ribs and stuck her good. She bent over and backed away, grabbing her ribs.

"Damn." She sharply exhaled out of her mouth. "Shit."

"Sorry, I was getting into it."

"No, it's nice. I haven't sparred like this in ages." She exhaled sharply again. "Want a drink?"

"Uh, I'll take a juice box."

Sydney stood, holding her left wrist. "No, I meant alcohol."

I never had alcohol before. I declined every offer.

But today, I didn't mind trying it alongside a friend. I accepted her proposal, which surprised her. She gave a sarcastic remark about something I didn't understand and went inside.

I grabbed two wooden lawn chairs and angled them inwards towards each other.

Sydney came out with two bottles in her hand and an unlit cigarette in her mouth. She collapsed on the lawn chair after handing me the already opened bottle. I did the same.

"Surprised you accepted the alcohol," she said before taking a sip.

"I tried a lot of things in my life. Never alcohol. Might as well, though."

I took a sip. My face scrunched up, not expecting the bitterness. I coughed a few times while shaking my head. It was bitter with a hint of fruitiness.

"Easy there," she said. "Take small sips."

I nodded and coughed again.

Sydney lit her cigarette and puffed smoke into the dark. Even though it was late, it was still pretty warm out. Wearing grey sweatpants made me sweat, but it could very well be because we sparred. Earlier, it was cold enough to wear two, or maybe even three layers.

Speaking of sparring.

"You did more than self–defense classes," I said.

"A little more. Why that assumption? Was I sparring too well?"

"I felt like I was sparring someone on my level. Back home, I had Owen as a sparring partner. He isn't that great. Always falling on the ground, whining about being hit too hard. Heh, kinda miss it, though."

Sydney took another sip of her drink. "How is it… the outside world? Was it so bad that you somehow made your way here?"

Sydney's phone buzzed before I could answer.

"Oh, hold on. It's… Tim. Hello, Tim? Food—? Um, we have plenty—ok? Oh, great. Ok, uh, let's talk about this when you're home. Oh, you're walking? Ok, see you soon. Bye." She hung up and shook her head. "Owen got a job…?"

"Huh? Meaning?"

"I don't know. They will be here soon. Ask him then. Oh, are you gonna finish that drink?"

I handed her the bottle without saying anything. We went back inside and waited for the boys to arrive. It didn't take long before they did.

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