Rin Bonus Story: Pulling Your Punches (nonbinary Rin)

“You’re pulling your punches.”

I pant the words a hand’s breadth from Rin’s face, and there’s no way to miss the annoyed expression it sparks on their face.

“No, I’m not,” they reply flatly. They turn and walk without further comment to where we’ve set our gear, adjusting the straps on their gloves and rummaging in their pack until their find their canteen.

“You are,” I insist, crossing my arms. “What’s the matter, afraid I’m made of glass? I'm completely healed from our last job - you don't need to go easy on me.” I only connect the dots as I say it: last week saw us facing off with a particularly angry fae, and Rin's been stealing glances at me walking ever since I got my leg patched up. It's still a little sore, but nothing terrible.

They give me a sidelong look as I approach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” they take a long drink from their canteen and splash their face with what’s left. “Gods, it’s hot. We’re going inside after this round, I can’t take it.”

“I don’t care where we spar, but you’re going to have to take this more seriously. Otherwise I’ll just go get Keo or Wren,” I reply stubbornly. “Are we here to train, or not?”

“Round three, [mouse/trouble],” they say, ignoring my comment and tapping my shoulder lightly with their knuckles. “Come on.”

I follow them back within the borders of the outdoor ring, but again it’s the same. They dodge more than they strike, feint when they have the opportunity to attack. Finally I stop, dropping my hands to my sides mid-fight.

“What?” they ask immediately.

“There’s no point in training if we don’t push each other,” I frown.

Their brow creases in annoyance. “We’re leaving for the wilds tomorrow,” they say. “You want to be walking around out there injured? Sounds like a great plan.”

“I could get Tiane to patch me up before we left, if it came to it. I can take a hit or two, you're not going to seriously hurt me.”

“For fuck’s sake, I don’t want you hurt at all,” they snap.

I stare at them, surprised at the outburst. For a moment they look as startled as me, but in a flash it’s gone, replaced by a sly expression. “Unless that’s what you’re into,” they say. They step closer, anchoring their hand at the side of my neck and pulling me in an inch. "Is that what you want? You know, you could've just said so."

Even through my racing heartbeat and rapidly-flushing cheeks, I can tell they're deflecting. “Very funny,” I say a little breathlessly.

“I try my best,” they smirk, pecking my cheek then tossing their gloves into their pack. “Come on, let’s get some food. I’m tired of training.”

I'm so lost in thought I don't notice them slip a balm into my pocket while we walk. I can smell everbloom leaves in it when I open it later, a plant so rare I'm sure they must've stolen the medicine - I didn't even know we had this inside the city. When I try it on my leg the remaining soreness vanishes, like it never existed.