soft slashes [shrimp]

The steel slashed against the rubber, the soft rip reverberating through the section of the training hall where I had set up a dummy next to a rack of swords. My gaze idly drifts from the simulated enemy's mess of a carcass. The expansive room was nearly empty save for a few other dedicated trainees. My parents hadn't even woken up yet to notice that I was gone from the house once again before the sun even rose over the mountainous district.

I sigh and move away from the dismantled dummy, wiping the sword clean with one of the disposable wipes nearby before dragging the dummy over to the trash area. Two others from my even earlier fights that morning were stacked up alongside the new one. One with diamond shaped, pointed arrow marks dotting the chest and head, the other with clean axe strokes chopping off nearly a quarter of it's faceless head.

My arms move in front of me, my knuckles cracking stiffly as I stretch. I walk away, from the dummy disposal, my face a mixture of tiredness and curiosity as I survey the rest of the room. A while ago, someone else would have been here, alongside me in the bleary morning as we train for an inevitable victory. I haven't seen him in a while. My expression morphs slightly to that of wonderment as I take a swig from my water bottle. I glance outside the window at the rising sun. If I set off now, he'll probably be awake by the time I get there.

I drop the water bottle off in my locker before setting off from the training center in the direction of his house. I'd been there a few times before for lunch after training a few years back. We'd been so young, hearts set on the crown. Mine was still there, but Aksel's absences indicted his was inching farther away from what he is meant to strive for.

The shops were just opening, and a whiff of coffee from a nearby cafe caught my nose. I get sidetracked for a moment, grabbing two cups before traversing back along my path.

When I reach the door to his house, the coffee acrobatically moves from one of my hands to in between the crook of my elbow and the side of my chest. I knock succinctly three times before grabbing the second cup before it could teeter and spill.

The door swings open.

My hand reaches out with the cup of coffee.

"What's up? I haven't seen you in a while? You've been skimping on practice or just trying to avoid me?"