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29. Chapter

Author: Haga Krisztina
last update Last Updated: 2025-11-18 01:41:54

The plane continued to cut through the sky with a steady, monotonous hum, as if it were gently rocking its passengers. Outside, the sun was already high, but the cabin remained bathed in soft light, the shades drawn halfway down, the air vents barely stirring. The world was out there – far below, beneath the clouds. Up here, there was only silence.

Sloane had barely moved for the past half hour. She'd tucked her tablet back into her bag, slid the stylus into its case, and her movements had grown heavy. Her head tilted back, and her gaze lingered on random points, no longer reading – just staring. Her fingers lay slack on her knees.

And then... slowly, almost imperceptibly, she let her hair down.

It fell around her face first – soft golden strands framing skin that was no longer tense, only tired. Then it spilled over her shoulders and back in a long, gentle wave, like a warm blanket under which the body could finally allow itself to rest. She glanced around one last time, th
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  • Fighting Hearts   17. Chapter

    The next morning began calmly, but the air already hummed with excitement. Kai and Aria followed their usual routine: a short warm-up, stretching, then preparing their gloves and wraps. This time they skipped the hotel breakfast because the bus was scheduled to leave for the gym in the early hours, where they would follow the daily training plan to prepare for the upcoming matches. The bright, spacious gym awaited them even from a distance: the ropes were tight, the mats smooth, and in every corner of the room, the focus essential to Kai seemed to hang in the air. “Alright, let’s start the warm-up,” said Christopher, scanning his notes and going over the day’s plan again. “Today it’s especially important to stay focused, every movement must be precise.” Kai nodded and, as if always meant to be there, began the first set of exercises next to Aria: jumps, squats, quick footwork. Aria always watched from the other corner, and if needed, she would quietly give instructions, indica

  • Fighting Hearts   16. Chapter

    The first light of day had barely appeared through the hotel windows when Kai was already going through his usual routine: slow stretches, moving his legs and arms, followed by a short run along the corridor where behind the doors, the team was already preparing. The first day of the tour had begun, and every minute counted; even Aria was there before departure for the bus, gloves and wraps in hand, checking that Kai was doing everything correctly. “Every match counts today,” Christopher said, organizing his notes. “Your style, your rhythm, every jab, every block, every step. Even the smallest mistake can hold you back.” “Understood,” Kai replied, pulling on his gloves. Aria smiled as she adjusted the wrist wraps, giving a small but decisive nod to signal she was ready. “And we won’t forget the reward kisses, right?” “Of course,” Aria said, sending subtle signals with her eyes that support outside the ring was equally important. The first opponent was a tall, lean, fast gu

  • Fighting Hearts   15. Chapter

    The deep rumble of the arena settled into the chest like a slow, constant drumbeat; the lights dimmed, the ropes of the ring gleamed tight, and the announcer’s voice became nothing more than background noise to routine, as Kai sat in the corner with his robe over his shoulders, Aria checked the mouthguard and adjusted the wraps, and Christopher, stopwatch in hand, repeated in short, precise sentences the key steps of the opening plan: the first minute is for reading, cut the long reach with your legs, no wasted exchanges, you set the rhythm—not the crowd. “—If anything starts spinning in your head, ‘red,’” said Aria, tapping Kai’s wrist through the glove. “Return route’s ‘blue.’ I’m here.” “Here,” Kai nodded, and that short, tight smile—the one that only ever appeared before a fight—clicked into place. The gong rang, the first jabs shot out immediately. The opponent was tall and disciplined, “probing” with his long arms; he didn’t want to throw big yet, just draw the distanc

  • Fighting Hearts   14. Chapter

    The morning of the first match day was cool and clear. There were few people in the hotel dining room—mostly teams quietly eating their oatmeal and scrolling through the day’s schedule on their phones. Kai and Aria chose a corner table. Muesli, eggs, a banana, tea. Nothing fancy. “Weight’s fine,” Aria noted, glancing at her paper. “Two deciliters of water left, then done.” “Good,” Kai nodded. “No number games—I just want solid footing.” Christopher joined them ten minutes later, folder under his arm, and started with the usual brief “daily plan.” “Light activation in the rented gym this morning: mobility, coordination, short pad work. Lunch, rest, then we head to the arena. We check in with medical two hours before the start, then warm-up ring, then call time.” He looked up. “The game plan today is simple: the first two minutes are for reading. We cut off his long reach with footwork and head movement. No rushing, no heroics.” “Got it,” Kai said. Aria added softl

  • Fighting Hearts   13. Chapter

    The night was quiet at first. Through the thin curtain of the hotel room, the city’s lights glimmered faintly; the air conditioner hummed steadily, and footsteps from the hallway reached them only rarely. Aria lay on the left bed—her ribs still wrapped, but the skin beneath no longer throbbed. Kai was on the other bed, half-turned, the blanket half-slipped off him. The day had gone smoothly: training, dinner, the draw, a brief planning session. Their bodies had finally accepted that they were allowed to rest. Then, somewhere in the middle of the night, the air changed. At first, it was just a dull, irregular movement: the mattress creaked, the springs gave and snapped back, someone gave a low groan. Aria opened her eyes. As her vision adjusted to the half-light, she saw Kai on his back, arms twitching as if groping for air. His jaw was clenched, his forehead damp with sweat, and a distorted sound pressed through his throat, as if he were murmuring commands from far away—or def

  • Fighting Hearts   12. Chapter

    The next morning, the kitchen of the hostel was filled with the scent of coffee mingling with toast and freshly washed workout clothes. The sun had only half-risen; the streets of Berlin shimmered damply when Aria appeared at the counter, half-awake, a mug in one hand and the remains of an apple in the other. Her hair wasn’t tied up, just gathered back with a band, and beneath the sweatshirt slipping off her shoulder lingered that quiet fatigue that always hit her the morning after a hard training session. Kai was already there, leaning on the counter. In front of him were training plans, timers open on his phone, protein powder, notes—all in precise, military order. He didn’t speak right away, just nodded when Aria leaned beside him. “You seriously wake up at six in the morning?” Aria asked sleepily, blowing on her coffee before taking a careful sip. “That’s sick.” “My body’s wired that way,” Kai replied, his voice deep but somehow calm. “It stayed that way even after the war

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