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Summary
He has distant memories of fighting being fun, an intricate dance of escrima sticks and acrobat's reflexes. Now, it's pure function, all focused blows and sharp edges. He has distant memories of a hand on his shoulder that was there to encourage him, instead of restrain him.
But there is no girl in his memories, no girl with crooked teeth and battle scars. Tara is not the equivalent of anything or anyone.
Series
- Part 1 of We'd Fly Away Together
