"Ladies first."
Jimin steps back smugly, his bow slung casually over his shoulder. "Let's see how well you can hit the ground, slave."
My hands tighten around my bow in anger, and I can't help but show off a bit as I do the process I'd learned how to do since childhood.
Imagine the target in your mind.
Draw the string.
Feel the wind.
Aim the bow.
Shoot and never, ever miss.
When I open my eyes, my arrow is exactly where I'd pictured it to be— buried in the exact center of the target.
Bullseye.
"Beginner's luck." Jimin snorts, but I can sense a bit of worry under all those layers of pride. He's not going to take it well when he loses the match.
Jungkook looks at me with approval— I think he can easily tell that I'm not an ordinary archer. I'm an excellent one, and experts know which people are experts when they see one.
Although Jimin, I have to admit, is better than most archers I've seen before. Obviously showing off, he aims the bow behind his back, and hits the center without looking.
"It's all in the fingertips, sweetheart."
He waves his hands in front of my face and I retaliate back, sharp and straight to the point.
"You mean your baby hands?"
Tae erupts in laughter once again as I say that. "Sorry, sorry. Continue." But even as he apologizes, he's struggling desperately to hold in his bubbling laughter. Besides him, Jungkook's lips are drawn in a rare smile as well.
"Says the seventeen year old baby. At least my face looks my age— my jawline could cut through that ego of yours right in half."
"It's really too bad that I have too much of it, do I?"
Plucking an arrow between my pointer finger and thumb, I sling it into the bowstring and release it straight upwards into the air.
The arrow flies to hit the ceiling at the slightest angle, and bounces off to meet the opposite side of the target. Then it reflects off of the wall and whistles by inches beside Jimin's shocked face to hit the bullseye.
Now that I'd worked on it for years just to perfect on my stiff bow back at my old home.
"Wow." Tae breaks the stunned silence first, his eyes tracing the beautiful path my arrow had drawn. "How in the skies did you manage to do that?"
Jimin hisses between his clenched teeth. "I can do better. That shot just now? Child's play. Nothing more, nothing less, and I'll prove it."
Without another word, he picks three arrows from his quiver and spreads each out on his string. I'm excited to see what he'll do— and I'm also excited to beat it.
In a swift motion, he releases the three arrows in rapid fire so each spread out in a different direction. They dance like a fierce ballerina as they curve in a spiral like motion. It's like the target is a magnet, and the arrows are the paper clips drawn towards it.
"Do you forfeit?"
Jimin leans on his black bow, his eyes curved into dark crescents as he grins triumphantly. He thinks that was enough to scare me into giving up my pride and my dignity. But that's where he's got it wrong.
He doesn't know that I'd held onto archery like it was my only anchor to life itself. He doesn't know how I'd practiced each move more than a thousand times per day to just get it right into perfection. He has absolutely no idea how many hours I sacrificed to mold my skills until there was no one in Gens Light that could even come close to me in the art of archery.
"No."
I can feel the intensity of Jungkook's eyes on me as I draw three arrows from my own quiver, and I'm surprised at how conscious I am of his presence. Not now. I need full concentration for this, and I couldn't deal with any other distractions, including him.
The world blurs around me as I draw the bow until it's just moments from when the string snaps from the tension. Nocking the three arrows, I imagine the path of the arrows in my mind.
Imagine.
Analyze.
Shoot.
I can practically hear the crackle of electric tension as my arrows fly, curving into an elegant design before meeting Jimin's arrows.
And crashing right through them.
My arrows meet his in a destructive kiss, ripping through the arrows there before and replacing them with mine. In a second, I erase any trace of his arrows there before, and but instead leave my own.
Perfect.
"I think it's safe to say that the slave won, Jimin." Tae says, voice filled with awe and admiration. "I knew you were signing up for something you didn't want since this competition began."
Lowering my bow down, I try not to giggle as Jimin starts going on a full childish tantrum right in front of the other Heads.
"It's not fair— she must have cheated somehow. I want a rematch, fair and square this time!" Jimin shoots a venomous glare at me. "And this time, I'm using a different bow."
"Okay, I think we've overstayed our welcome, Kook." Tae says as he steers the shorter and angrier boy out of the room. "Oh, and whatever day you want Jimin to keep his part of his deal, the just tell me and I'll drag him over here whether he wants it or not."
I giggle and nod as Jimin struggles against Tae's tall form, shouting Let me go the entire time he's being forcefully dragged away.
When the door closes, Jungkook approaches me and tests the bow in his grip. Then he hands it to me.
"You can keep it if you wish. I have no use for it anyways— it'll be in better hands in yours than mine."
My heart freezes as he holds the glistening, beautiful bow towards me. I'd wanted a weapon like this for ages— even though I couldn't exactly use it to kill a person, and even though I'd firmly believed I'd never get one— a girl could dream, and that dream had come true.
"Are you serious? This looks—"
"Do you want it or not?"
"Yes! Of course!" I quickly take the weapon from his hands and revel at the smooth texture of the wood against my fingers. "Thank you so much. What can I do to repay—"
He tilts his head to the side, face emotionless. Like always.
"I'd say to listen to what I actually say, but I know you won't do that."
What can I say?
He's right, as usual.