Leon exited from the changing room, placing his steps slowly as if an invisible force was weighing him.
Whispers rose and hit him like darts.
"Hahaha… fighting with your own mother, Storm."
"…I would love to see her crush you. I'm sure she's fed up with you. Dusthollow Rat."
"…As for this fight, I'm sure Zoe talked to the proctors to set it up."
When Zoe emerged onto the platform, cheers rose. Not applauding her, but blaming her for pairing with him on the first day she made that decision.
Leon exhaled sharply, turned his gaze, and focused on Zoe. She wore a standard dark pink training gear that he'd never seen her in before.
Her icy platinum blonde hair contrasted against the color of the fabric. Her face had the same unreadable expression she'd had when the incident with the treadmill occurred.
She didn't look at the crowd. Her pale silver-grey eyes held him like a ghost in a cage.
