[Vignette?] Our Unrequited Dance

      I breathed out and locked eyes with her. She stood at the other end of the ring with fierce, unrelenting eyes. Her blade shimmered as the setting sun danced along its edge.       I shimmied my spear further down. I was going to need all the spacing I could get. Her rounds were always over in a matter of seconds.       The referee held a whistle up to his mouth and a hand jutted out. A railway crossing gate waiting for its time to shine. His eyes scanned me and he nodded. Then he scanned her. His face lingered longer than it should have. He nodded. Something stirred in me.       "Ready," the ref stated. "Set." He blew his whistle, whipping his hand into the air and scurrying out of the ring.       The audience exploded with cheers. None for me. Except for my mom in the crowd.       "You got this, Setharoni!"       Mom. C'mon.       But Her blade flashed and I stumbled. I managed to get my spear into position right as she swung. The clash of steel against steel pierced past the audience. They gasped. I did, too. Her blade rode my spear to the head and caught, but I was ready and her attempt to disarm was met with an awkward and shared fumble. Her eyes widened and I shoved her away.       I regained my composure. Someone in the audience clapped. The ref twitched. She glared. Somehow sharper than the sword she spent hours sharpening. I took the offensive this time and ran full tilt. My spear dragged, sending out an ear-grating war cry on my behalf. With a flourish I aimed it for her heart and feinted a stab. She side-stepped and I threw a fist.       Square in the chest. She cried out and stumbled. I pressed my advantage and threw out a real stab. She ducked and darted. I expected a punish but neutral was reset.       My smile wavered but it was there. Her scowl never left. Her hair kept an impressively presented neatness except for a small set of strands that banded together and split her thin and determined face. I swallowed. My heart fluttered.       "You're really annoying," She growled. "Spears are lame."       Ouch. I shrugged. "Not much I can do about it now."       She scoffed, pushing the strands off her face. She somehow looked more radiant without them there.       No. Stay focused.       She took a half step forward. My spear trembled. Then she feinted left but headed right and I bought it like she was showing me a used car too good to pass on. My spear veered left and my body was too slow to follow my brain screaming at it.       By the time my neck craned, she was a mere couple of feet from me. Her blade scraped the ground and sparks flew. My neck felt a cold sharpness and the ref blew his whistle.       My spear clattered against the ground and dispelled in a speckle of red and orange light. She took her sword and dropped it on the ground where it did the same. Except her speckle was green.       My head was reeling, but my heart was impressed. The world had gone silent and she approached. Everything slowed. Her hair bounced with each step. Her walk was mesmerizing.       I opened my mouth but she clamped a cold hand on my shoulder. "Not even close. 'Setharoni.'" Her eyes were hard. The dark brown highlighted by the sun.       The world crashed back down with the audience cheering and jeering. I stammered and failed to get any words out. My mom rammed into me, hugging me and saying things about how close it was. But none of it mattered.       She walked away.       Who even was she?