The qualifying schedule posted on the third week listed her bracket match for the afternoon of the third day.
She spent the morning as she spent most mornings: training with Ilyun, then an hour of solo practice on the corrections he had given, then the particular kind of observation she had been doing since the first day, sitting at the edge of the assessment area and watching matches and filing what she saw. She had filled thirty-one pages of notes across the weeks at Road 1. The notes had changed in character over time: the early ones were primarily catalogues of patterns and weaknesses, the kind of intelligence that served tactical planning. The later ones contained more analysis, attempts to understand why practitioners succeeded or failed at specific moments rather than simply recording that they did.
She was doing this, watching a match between two practitioners whose styles she had not seen before, when Seo Rhaon walked into the qualifying venue.
She noticed her the way she noticed practitioners who moved differently from the ambient standard: not because something was visually distinctive, but because the quality of motion was different in kind rather than degree. Rhaon moved through the crowd at the edge of the assessment area with the particular ease of someone for whom movement was not a question. She was slightly shorter than Raeha, with a practical haircut and the kind of self-contained attention that Raeha associated with people who were genuinely at rest rather than people who were performing rest.
She moved to a spot near the fence and watched the ongoing match.
Raeha watched Rhaon watch the match, which was more interesting than watching the match.
---
Her bracket was called in the second hour of the afternoon.
She had not seen Rhaon's name on the current bracket sheet. She found out when she came out of the preparation area that Rhaon had been added as a late qualifier from a school whose original representative had withdrawn. The bracket had been redrawn.
She was facing Rhaon in the first exchange.
She stood at the edge of the assessment area and looked at Rhaon on the other side and thought: I have been watching you for three hours. I know your opening pattern, your preferred counter sequence, the three scenarios where you default to a specific response, and the general timing structure of how you build pressure. I know these things accurately.
What she knew, she also knew, was not what she needed.
The match began.
She read Rhaon correctly for the first forty seconds. Not just pattern recognition but the deeper reading she had been building, the quality of understanding what the movement intended before it completed. Rhaon's style was efficient in the way that distinguished genuine mastery from trained capability: there was no excess, no visible effort, no gap between intention and execution.
Raeha knew what was coming. She could not get out of the way fast enough.
She survived the first exchange and the second. The third exchange was where Rhaon used a movement Raeha had not seen in any other context, a transition between two positions that did not follow the logic of the school style she had been categorizing. Fast, clean, very specific about where the weight was distributed at the moment of contact.
Raeha went down.
She got up. The match continued.
She watched for the movement. It appeared again twenty seconds later, in a different setup, preceded by a different entry, but recognizably the same structural element. The specific weight distribution at contact. The same.
Raeha lost the match. She had expected to lose the match. What she had not expected was the clarity with which she had seen the second instance of the movement, or the fact that she had felt, in the fraction of a second between seeing it and being hit by it, that she understood exactly what to do and exactly that she was too slow to do it.
She filed both of these things carefully.
---
Rhaon found her before she had left the assessment area boundary.
"The way you were reading me," Rhaon said. She was not phrasing it as a question but it had the quality of one. "From the beginning."
"Yes."
"You had already mapped the structure before the match started."
"Most of it. You do not follow a fixed pattern so there was a ceiling to how much I could predict."
Rhaon looked at her with an expression Raeha identified as genuine interest of the specific kind that was rare: interest in a person's capacity rather than in the usefulness of that capacity. "How do you do it?"
Raeha considered the question. "I observe and retain," she said. "The volume of retention means patterns become visible over a relatively small number of observations."
"And the application. You knew what was coming at the end of the second exchange."
"I knew. I could not apply what I knew quickly enough."
Rhaon was quiet for a moment. "You saw the second time I used that movement."
"Yes."
"Most people do not see it once."
"I saw it twice." She paused. "I could not respond to it either time. But I saw it."
Rhaon looked at her with the interest rearranging itself into something else, something more like assessment combined with something Raeha did not have an exact category for. "What would you do differently next time?"
"I would need three times as fast a response in my right side to apply what I understood. That is a training question."
"Who is training you?"
She told her Ilyun's name.
Something moved briefly in Rhaon's expression. She filed it.
"I know of him," Rhaon said. "Good choice." She said this without editorializing. Then: "The movement you saw twice. You should ask him about the entry sequence. That is where the setup lives."
She walked away.
---
Raeha walked back through the qualifying venue toward the eastern practice area.
She had been aware of Ilyun at the edge of the assessment area for most of the match. She knew his position the way she had come to know his position as a general fact of her environment: present at a specific location, available as reference point without requiring active attention. She had not looked directly at him during the match because looking directly at him during a match was not useful. She needed her attention on the opponent.
She looked now.
He was still at the fence, in the same position she had peripherally registered during the match. He had been watching the assessment area.
He was not watching Rhaon.
She came up beside him. He did not turn to face her.
"The entry sequence," she said.
"Yes." He had heard the conversation. Of course he had. He was eight feet away.
"That is where it sets up."
"Yes."
"Show me."
He was quiet for a moment. Something in his expression had the quality she associated with him making a decision that was not entirely about training, though she could not have said precisely what the other part was. Then: "Tomorrow morning. We add it to the drill sequence."
She nodded.
She stood beside him for another moment, looking at the assessment area where the next match was beginning, and thought about Rhaon's movement and Rhaon's question about who was training her and the brief expression that had moved through Rhaon's face when she had said his name.
She thought about the fact that for the duration of her match, he had been watching her and not the opponent.
She filed this under: data, relevance to be determined.
---
The next morning's session had been changed.
Not dramatically. He had modified two of the existing drills and added a new sequence at the end. She recognized, when she ran the new sequence, that it was built to address exactly what Rhaon had exposed: the specific response time on the right side, the entry sequence that Rhaon had used, the transition that had preceded both instances of the movement she had seen and not been able to answer.
She had not told him in detail what Rhaon had done. He had watched the match.
She ran the sequence once and understood that he had been watching not just to watch but to identify, specifically, what to change the next morning. She ran it again and recognized, in the structure of the drill, the particular quality of someone who had anticipated a gap and built a tool to close it.
She ran the sequence a third time and thought: he is planning further ahead than she had realized.
She was not certain what to do with this thought. She ran the sequence again.
She stayed at the edge of the assessment area for three hours after the Rhaon match.
Not because she was recovering or processing in any distressed way. She was watching. She had done this at Road 1 from the beginning, and she did it now with the same systematic intention, but the question she was bringing to the watching had changed. In the beginning she had been watching to catalogue patterns and identify tactical approaches. Now she was watching with the kind of attention she had been developing in training, the watching that moved toward understanding rather than toward recording.
She watched six matches and filled four pages of notes and thought about what Rhaon had said in the exchange after the match.
You saw the second time I used that movement.
Most people did not see it once.
She had found this interesting not as a compliment, which it had not been delivered as, but as information. If most people did not see the movement once, the movement was constructed to be invisible. The construction of invisibility was a skill separate from the construction of the movement itself, and the fact that Rhaon had constructed the invisibility and Raeha had seen through it anyway was information about both of them.
She wrote this in her notes and moved on.
What she returned to, in the hour after she had finished watching, was the exchange she had had with Rhaon about her recall. Specifically, the quality of Rhaon's interest: not clinical, not strategic, genuinely curious about how the recall worked and what it was like to have it. She had received clinical interest and strategic interest and skeptical interest in her recall from many people. Genuine curiosity about the experience of it was rarer.
She thought about the fact that Ilyun had also asked about the experience. The question about whether she heard or saw when she recalled something.
Two people in the same month had asked her about the inside of the capability rather than the outside of it. She had been answering questions about the outside for years.
---
She found Ilyun where she had expected to find him: at the fence, his usual position, the position she had come to associate with him watching her rather than with him watching the matches. He was watching the assessment area when she arrived. She came up beside him.
The match in progress was a third-year qualifier from a school she recognized using a technique she had documented eight times in various contexts. She and Ilyun watched it together in the comfortable working silence they had developed for observation periods.
"The entry sequence," she said, when the match had resolved and the next was being set up.
"Yes. The setup is fifteen seconds before the movement. The weight transfer."
"She baits with the right."
"And the weight is already committed left when the right moves."
They were speaking in the shorthand they had developed for technique discussion, the shared vocabulary of two people who had been analyzing movement together long enough to compress the language. She was aware of this, the compression, the way their working communication had become more efficient without becoming less precise.
She thought: this is what shared practice produces. Not just shared knowledge. A shared language.
"What did she do after?" she asked. She meant Rhaon.
"Walked away."
"Before that. When I told her who was training me."
He was quiet for a moment. "Something moved in her expression."
"I saw that."
"She knows of me," he said. The flatness in the statement told her this was not something he had volunteered. "Or knows of my injury. It is not a small story in the practitioner community."
"Because you maintained your account for five years."
"Because I maintained it after my own school told me I was wrong."
She stood with this. She had been building her understanding of what that five years had meant, from the specific evidence available to her: the quality of his certainty about his own execution, the quality of his stillness when she had told him his certainty was justified. Five years of being wrong according to everyone who had authority to say. She understood this as a particular kind of wearing, the wearing that came from carrying a true thing no one confirmed.
She filed the filing she had been doing about this, the entry under: significant, meaning unclear, and accepted that it had moved into a different category without deciding to name the category.
The next match was being called. They watched.
She thought about the Rhaon match for most of the following week.
Not the loss itself: she had expected to lose and the loss was not painful in any way that required processing beyond the technical analysis. What she thought about was the movement she had seen twice, and the three hours of observation she had done after the match, and the thing Rhaon had said in their exchange.
She spent two sessions specifically working on the entry sequence Ilyun had added to the drills after the match. The entry sequence was harder than it looked because it was not about the position itself but about the approach to the position: the specific quality of stepping that kept the weight available without committing it early, the anti-pattern of what her previous approach had been doing, which was committing the weight before the movement needed it.
She ran the entry sequence on the sixth day after the match and felt something she had not felt in any of the previous five days of running it: the weight stayed available through the approach.
Not for long. Not reliably. But once, cleanly.
She stopped and stood in the position and let the quality of it be present for a moment before moving on.
"That was it," she said.
"Yes," he said. He had been watching, at the angle where he could read the weight distribution.
She ran the sequence again.
The weight was not available on the next repetition. She noted this without frustration. First occurrences established possibility. The work between the first occurrence and the reliable occurrence was the specific work that built the body's record. She understood this now from experience rather than from her grandfather's description of it.
She ran the sequence again.
---
The three hours of observation she had done after the Rhaon match had produced thirty-seven notes, and she had been working through the notes for days, adding them to the relevant sections of the training file and cross-referencing them against the work she was doing in the sessions. Several of the notes described things she had seen in other practitioners that she recognized as directly relevant to what she was building in herself, and several described things she had seen that she did not yet have the training vocabulary to address but that she was holding as future reference points.
Two of the notes were in a different category.
Both of them were about Ilyun.
She had not intended to include observations about him in the match observation notes. They had arrived the way things arrived when she was watching with the understanding-oriented attention rather than the recording-oriented attention: not catalogued, just present. She had written them down because writing things down was her default response to observations, and she had put them in the match notes folder because that was the folder she had been working in.
She read them now.
The first note described the angle at which he had been standing relative to the assessment area fence and the specific quality of attention in his position, the particular stillness of someone whose attention was completely directed at one thing. She had written: he was not watching the assessment area. He was watching her.
The second note described the moment after the match when she had walked back through the boundary rope and before she had reached him. She had written: she was watching him from twenty feet away and she recognized, at that distance, the quality of his attention shifting from the watching of the match to the watching of her approach, and the two were not the same quality of watching.
She sat with these two notes for a long time.
Then she put them in a new folder she labeled: separate.
She had been maintaining the separate folder for four days when Rhaon found her in the observation area on the afternoon of the sixth day after the Rhaon match.
"You are still here," Rhaon said.
"I find the observation productive."
"I know. I have been watching you observe." She sat down beside Raeha at the fence. "You watch differently from everyone else here."
"I have been told that before."
"Not differently in the way of being better," Rhaon said. "Differently in the way of watching something other people are not watching."
Raeha looked at her.
"Most people watch the technique," Rhaon said. "You watch the person doing the technique. The gap between what the person intends and what the person produces."
This was accurate. "Yes."
"That is harder to train than technique."
"I know."
Rhaon was quiet for a moment. They watched a match together in the comfortable silence that had developed between them over the week. Then: "He watches you the same way."
Raeha kept her eyes on the match. "I know," she said.
Rhaon looked at her for a moment with a quality that was not quite amusement and not quite something else, something that required more information than Raeha currently had to categorize precisely. Then she returned to the match.
They watched in silence for another twenty minutes and when Rhaon left she went without comment, the way she did most things.
You've reached the end of this chapter
The qualifying schedule posted on the third week listed her bracket match for the afternoon of the third day.
She spent the morning as she spent most mornings: training with Ilyun, then an hour of solo practice on the corrections he had given, then the particular kind of observation she had been doing since the first day, sitting at the edge of the assessment area and watching matches and filing what she saw. She had filled thirty-one pages of notes across the weeks at Road 1. The notes had changed in character over time: the early ones were primarily catalogues of patterns and weaknesses, the kind of intelligence that served tactical planning. The later ones contained more analysis, attempts to understand why practitioners succeeded or failed at specific moments rather than simply recording that they did.
She was doing this, watching a match between two practitioners whose styles she had not seen before, when Seo Rhaon walked into the qualifying venue.
She noticed her the way she noticed practitioners who moved differently from the ambient standard: not because something was visually distinctive, but because the quality of motion was different in kind rather than degree. Rhaon moved through the crowd at the edge of the assessment area with the particular ease of someone for whom movement was not a question. She was slightly shorter than Raeha, with a practical haircut and the kind of self-contained attention that Raeha associated with people who were genuinely at rest rather than people who were performing rest.
She moved to a spot near the fence and watched the ongoing match.
Raeha watched Rhaon watch the match, which was more interesting than watching the match.
---
Her bracket was called in the second hour of the afternoon.
She had not seen Rhaon's name on the current bracket sheet. She found out when she came out of the preparation area that Rhaon had been added as a late qualifier from a school whose original representative had withdrawn. The bracket had been redrawn.
She was facing Rhaon in the first exchange.
She stood at the edge of the assessment area and looked at Rhaon on the other side and thought: I have been watching you for three hours. I know your opening pattern, your preferred counter sequence, the three scenarios where you default to a specific response, and the general timing structure of how you build pressure. I know these things accurately.
What she knew, she also knew, was not what she needed.
The match began.
She read Rhaon correctly for the first forty seconds. Not just pattern recognition but the deeper reading she had been building, the quality of understanding what the movement intended before it completed. Rhaon's style was efficient in the way that distinguished genuine mastery from trained capability: there was no excess, no visible effort, no gap between intention and execution.
Raeha knew what was coming. She could not get out of the way fast enough.
She survived the first exchange and the second. The third exchange was where Rhaon used a movement Raeha had not seen in any other context, a transition between two positions that did not follow the logic of the school style she had been categorizing. Fast, clean, very specific about where the weight was distributed at the moment of contact.
Raeha went down.
She got up. The match continued.
She watched for the movement. It appeared again twenty seconds later, in a different setup, preceded by a different entry, but recognizably the same structural element. The specific weight distribution at contact. The same.
Raeha lost the match. She had expected to lose the match. What she had not expected was the clarity with which she had seen the second instance of the movement, or the fact that she had felt, in the fraction of a second between seeing it and being hit by it, that she understood exactly what to do and exactly that she was too slow to do it.
She filed both of these things carefully.
---
Rhaon found her before she had left the assessment area boundary.
"The way you were reading me," Rhaon said. She was not phrasing it as a question but it had the quality of one. "From the beginning."
"Yes."
"You had already mapped the structure before the match started."
"Most of it. You do not follow a fixed pattern so there was a ceiling to how much I could predict."
Rhaon looked at her with an expression Raeha identified as genuine interest of the specific kind that was rare: interest in a person's capacity rather than in the usefulness of that capacity. "How do you do it?"
Raeha considered the question. "I observe and retain," she said. "The volume of retention means patterns become visible over a relatively small number of observations."
"And the application. You knew what was coming at the end of the second exchange."
"I knew. I could not apply what I knew quickly enough."
Rhaon was quiet for a moment. "You saw the second time I used that movement."
"Yes."
"Most people do not see it once."
"I saw it twice." She paused. "I could not respond to it either time. But I saw it."
Rhaon looked at her with the interest rearranging itself into something else, something more like assessment combined with something Raeha did not have an exact category for. "What would you do differently next time?"
"I would need three times as fast a response in my right side to apply what I understood. That is a training question."
"Who is training you?"
She told her Ilyun's name.
Something moved briefly in Rhaon's expression. She filed it.
"I know of him," Rhaon said. "Good choice." She said this without editorializing. Then: "The movement you saw twice. You should ask him about the entry sequence. That is where the setup lives."
She walked away.
---
Raeha walked back through the qualifying venue toward the eastern practice area.
She had been aware of Ilyun at the edge of the assessment area for most of the match. She knew his position the way she had come to know his position as a general fact of her environment: present at a specific location, available as reference point without requiring active attention. She had not looked directly at him during the match because looking directly at him during a match was not useful. She needed her attention on the opponent.
She looked now.
He was still at the fence, in the same position she had peripherally registered during the match. He had been watching the assessment area.
He was not watching Rhaon.
She came up beside him. He did not turn to face her.
"The entry sequence," she said.
"Yes." He had heard the conversation. Of course he had. He was eight feet away.
"That is where it sets up."
"Yes."
"Show me."
He was quiet for a moment. Something in his expression had the quality she associated with him making a decision that was not entirely about training, though she could not have said precisely what the other part was. Then: "Tomorrow morning. We add it to the drill sequence."
She nodded.
She stood beside him for another moment, looking at the assessment area where the next match was beginning, and thought about Rhaon's movement and Rhaon's question about who was training her and the brief expression that had moved through Rhaon's face when she had said his name.
She thought about the fact that for the duration of her match, he had been watching her and not the opponent.
She filed this under: data, relevance to be determined.
---
The next morning's session had been changed.
Not dramatically. He had modified two of the existing drills and added a new sequence at the end. She recognized, when she ran the new sequence, that it was built to address exactly what Rhaon had exposed: the specific response time on the right side, the entry sequence that Rhaon had used, the transition that had preceded both instances of the movement she had seen and not been able to answer.
She had not told him in detail what Rhaon had done. He had watched the match.
She ran the sequence once and understood that he had been watching not just to watch but to identify, specifically, what to change the next morning. She ran it again and recognized, in the structure of the drill, the particular quality of someone who had anticipated a gap and built a tool to close it.
She ran the sequence a third time and thought: he is planning further ahead than she had realized.
She was not certain what to do with this thought. She ran the sequence again.
She stayed at the edge of the assessment area for three hours after the Rhaon match.
Not because she was recovering or processing in any distressed way. She was watching. She had done this at Road 1 from the beginning, and she did it now with the same systematic intention, but the question she was bringing to the watching had changed. In the beginning she had been watching to catalogue patterns and identify tactical approaches. Now she was watching with the kind of attention she had been developing in training, the watching that moved toward understanding rather than toward recording.
She watched six matches and filled four pages of notes and thought about what Rhaon had said in the exchange after the match.
You saw the second time I used that movement.
Most people did not see it once.
She had found this interesting not as a compliment, which it had not been delivered as, but as information. If most people did not see the movement once, the movement was constructed to be invisible. The construction of invisibility was a skill separate from the construction of the movement itself, and the fact that Rhaon had constructed the invisibility and Raeha had seen through it anyway was information about both of them.
She wrote this in her notes and moved on.
What she returned to, in the hour after she had finished watching, was the exchange she had had with Rhaon about her recall. Specifically, the quality of Rhaon's interest: not clinical, not strategic, genuinely curious about how the recall worked and what it was like to have it. She had received clinical interest and strategic interest and skeptical interest in her recall from many people. Genuine curiosity about the experience of it was rarer.
She thought about the fact that Ilyun had also asked about the experience. The question about whether she heard or saw when she recalled something.
Two people in the same month had asked her about the inside of the capability rather than the outside of it. She had been answering questions about the outside for years.
---
She found Ilyun where she had expected to find him: at the fence, his usual position, the position she had come to associate with him watching her rather than with him watching the matches. He was watching the assessment area when she arrived. She came up beside him.
The match in progress was a third-year qualifier from a school she recognized using a technique she had documented eight times in various contexts. She and Ilyun watched it together in the comfortable working silence they had developed for observation periods.
"The entry sequence," she said, when the match had resolved and the next was being set up.
"Yes. The setup is fifteen seconds before the movement. The weight transfer."
"She baits with the right."
"And the weight is already committed left when the right moves."
They were speaking in the shorthand they had developed for technique discussion, the shared vocabulary of two people who had been analyzing movement together long enough to compress the language. She was aware of this, the compression, the way their working communication had become more efficient without becoming less precise.
She thought: this is what shared practice produces. Not just shared knowledge. A shared language.
"What did she do after?" she asked. She meant Rhaon.
"Walked away."
"Before that. When I told her who was training me."
He was quiet for a moment. "Something moved in her expression."
"I saw that."
"She knows of me," he said. The flatness in the statement told her this was not something he had volunteered. "Or knows of my injury. It is not a small story in the practitioner community."
"Because you maintained your account for five years."
"Because I maintained it after my own school told me I was wrong."
She stood with this. She had been building her understanding of what that five years had meant, from the specific evidence available to her: the quality of his certainty about his own execution, the quality of his stillness when she had told him his certainty was justified. Five years of being wrong according to everyone who had authority to say. She understood this as a particular kind of wearing, the wearing that came from carrying a true thing no one confirmed.
She filed the filing she had been doing about this, the entry under: significant, meaning unclear, and accepted that it had moved into a different category without deciding to name the category.
The next match was being called. They watched.
She thought about the Rhaon match for most of the following week.
Not the loss itself: she had expected to lose and the loss was not painful in any way that required processing beyond the technical analysis. What she thought about was the movement she had seen twice, and the three hours of observation she had done after the match, and the thing Rhaon had said in their exchange.
She spent two sessions specifically working on the entry sequence Ilyun had added to the drills after the match. The entry sequence was harder than it looked because it was not about the position itself but about the approach to the position: the specific quality of stepping that kept the weight available without committing it early, the anti-pattern of what her previous approach had been doing, which was committing the weight before the movement needed it.
She ran the entry sequence on the sixth day after the match and felt something she had not felt in any of the previous five days of running it: the weight stayed available through the approach.
Not for long. Not reliably. But once, cleanly.
She stopped and stood in the position and let the quality of it be present for a moment before moving on.
"That was it," she said.
"Yes," he said. He had been watching, at the angle where he could read the weight distribution.
She ran the sequence again.
The weight was not available on the next repetition. She noted this without frustration. First occurrences established possibility. The work between the first occurrence and the reliable occurrence was the specific work that built the body's record. She understood this now from experience rather than from her grandfather's description of it.
She ran the sequence again.
---
The three hours of observation she had done after the Rhaon match had produced thirty-seven notes, and she had been working through the notes for days, adding them to the relevant sections of the training file and cross-referencing them against the work she was doing in the sessions. Several of the notes described things she had seen in other practitioners that she recognized as directly relevant to what she was building in herself, and several described things she had seen that she did not yet have the training vocabulary to address but that she was holding as future reference points.
Two of the notes were in a different category.
Both of them were about Ilyun.
She had not intended to include observations about him in the match observation notes. They had arrived the way things arrived when she was watching with the understanding-oriented attention rather than the recording-oriented attention: not catalogued, just present. She had written them down because writing things down was her default response to observations, and she had put them in the match notes folder because that was the folder she had been working in.
She read them now.
The first note described the angle at which he had been standing relative to the assessment area fence and the specific quality of attention in his position, the particular stillness of someone whose attention was completely directed at one thing. She had written: he was not watching the assessment area. He was watching her.
The second note described the moment after the match when she had walked back through the boundary rope and before she had reached him. She had written: she was watching him from twenty feet away and she recognized, at that distance, the quality of his attention shifting from the watching of the match to the watching of her approach, and the two were not the same quality of watching.
She sat with these two notes for a long time.
Then she put them in a new folder she labeled: separate.
She had been maintaining the separate folder for four days when Rhaon found her in the observation area on the afternoon of the sixth day after the Rhaon match.
"You are still here," Rhaon said.
"I find the observation productive."
"I know. I have been watching you observe." She sat down beside Raeha at the fence. "You watch differently from everyone else here."
"I have been told that before."
"Not differently in the way of being better," Rhaon said. "Differently in the way of watching something other people are not watching."
Raeha looked at her.
"Most people watch the technique," Rhaon said. "You watch the person doing the technique. The gap between what the person intends and what the person produces."
This was accurate. "Yes."
"That is harder to train than technique."
"I know."
Rhaon was quiet for a moment. They watched a match together in the comfortable silence that had developed between them over the week. Then: "He watches you the same way."
Raeha kept her eyes on the match. "I know," she said.
Rhaon looked at her for a moment with a quality that was not quite amusement and not quite something else, something that required more information than Raeha currently had to categorize precisely. Then she returned to the match.
They watched in silence for another twenty minutes and when Rhaon left she went without comment, the way she did most things.
You've reached the end of this chapter