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The Duel

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“Welcome back to the ESPN coverage of the NCAA Division 1 Intramural Softball Tournament. In just an hour, we’ll be starting the most anticipated match of the year: Brightmoon versus Horde University! This will be the first time these two juggernauts meet this year, but both of these historic teams have racked up win after win in their own divisions with the help of their star freshmen. Last year, Catra D’riluth and Adora Grayskull formed the most fearsome battery in high school softball, but with-”

“Can you please change the station?” Adora asks from the back seat. Her Uber driver murmurs an apology and switches to some country music. Not really Adora’s style, but she’s happy for something she can easily ignore.

She watches the all too familiar city through the window. She hasn’t been back, not really, ever since she moved cross country to attend Brightmoon. Everywhere she looks, she sees visions of the past. There’s the corner shop where she learned about different types of flowers. There’s the arcade where she used to watch her beat all comers at Street Fighter.

And here’s the stadium - the stadium where they swore they would one day be, playing in front of TV cameras and adoring fans.

Her driver has to cough loudly before Adora snaps out of her memories. She starts and runs out of the car. She is so late and dawdling is only going to get her in even more trouble.

“I'm sorry, I’m so sorry!” she calls out even before the locker room doors have opened. All eyes turn to her as she rushes to the open locker.

"Are you alright, Adora?" Coach Angella asks. "We’re starting in minutes, and-”

Adora cringes. "I am - I just - don’t worry, Coach. My head is in the game,” she stammers.

Adora looks down to avoid the gaze of the coach. Adora gets into her uniform in record time as Angella continues her last review of the opposing team.

Glimmer pops up suddenly next to her. “Wow, Adora, the one time you’re late it’s legendarily late,” she whispers. “Everything okay?”

“I know,” Adora groans. “It’s just - it’s been a while since I got to see Mara and Hope, and then I forgot my necklace on my desk and had to go back-”

“Oh man, I get it,” Glimmer says, raising her hands in apology.

“Hey,” Bow interrupts. He grabs Adora’s hand. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Adora. We're all ready. We're gonna win!”

Adora smiles weakly. She bounces her knee as she waits for the team to take the field.

The game isn't what she's worried about.


The two teams line up in front of their respective dugouts and listen to the National Anthem blaring through the speakers. It’s a moment of respect, or sportsmanship, or something, not that Catra has ever felt it. Usually she stands there trying not to fidget so she doesn’t disappoint Scorpia too much.

Catra’s eyes scan the faces on the other side of the field. She knows them all from countless hours poring over statistics and Youtube videos for weaknesses (for answers). She knows the Brightmoon Rebels better than she knows her own teammates. Seeing them now feels unattached - in the way that the worst dreams tend to be. But they’re here, and in just a few moments she’ll be able to dismantle them.

Show her how much of a mistake it was, something inside her whispers.

Catra finally spots her at the end of the line, sandwiched between the pink haired shortstop and the catcher who had inexplicably turned his uniform into a crop top. Adora is looking up at the flag, her eyes distant. But even now, a year removed from the last time they spoke, Catra can still read her like a book, even from across the field - the way she stands, back stiff as a rod, as she thinks and overthinks and worries about the game to come. Catra fights the desire to comfort her.

Catra scoffs at herself. That’s not her anymore. Never again.

She watches Adora through the whole song, and doesn’t try to hide it. Adora is clearly trying to keep her eyes away from the Horde, but as the song draws to a close, her gaze finally flits over and scans the line of softball players.

Their eyes meet for the first time in a year.

Catra doesn’t know what Adora can see in her eyes - but whatever it is, her former best friend flinches and looks away.

Catra smirks. Good.


“Scorpia D’Ream is off to a blistering start! The first inning went by in a heartbeat as she needed only eleven pitches to strike out all three batters! But folks, there are six more innings to play and the biggest challenge of the Brightmoon Rebels is coming up to start the second inning: clean-up batter Adora Grayskull! The crowd is already going wild as they anticipate the battle between pitcher and batter! She’s approaching the box now and -”

Adora’s stomach feels tied in knots as she walks up to the batter’s box. Scorpia has one of the best fastballs in the league and a secret weapon at her disposal.

“They knew my worst pitches, Adora,” Glimmer said as she returned to the dugout, defeated. “Yeah, Scorpia’s speed, whatever, you know I’m really good with fastballs. But that catcher - she called an incredible series against me. She’s done her homework; be careful!”

That catcher. Catra.

And of course, Catra knows Adora’s weaknesses like no one else.

Adora takes her position in the box, looking away from the catcher.

Scorpia reads Catra’s call. She nods. Her right hand grasps the softball in her glove and draws back behind her, her arm as taut as a bowstring. Her arm winds up, drawing two circles with her ball, and she throws the pitch. It’s fast, but Adora’s eyes track it with ease. It’s right down the center; Adora gets ready to swing and -

“Heyyyy, Adora,” Catra drawls.

Adora loses her grip. She watches in horror as the bat flies like a deadly missile to her right. Sea Hawk ducks out of the way.

“Strike!” The umpire calls. “Watch it, batter.”

Adora’s shoulders are touching her ears, she’s so embarrassed. “I’m so sorry!” Adora calls out to Sea Hawk as he returns her bat to her. She glares at Catra and - oh, that was a mistake. Catra is already staring at her, a nasty grin on her face. The mixture of malice and spiteful joy in her ex-friend’s gaze freezes her. She’s seen that look on Catra’s face before countless times... just never directed at her. She doesn’t have any experience handling it.

“Get into the batter’s box,” the umpire says.

Adora flinches and rushes forward. Already two reprimands from the umpire, and it’s just her first time at bat!

She is going to die on this field.

But she gets into her stance and takes a deep breath, and it all fades away. It’s just her versus the pitcher, and she’s good at this confrontation.

Scorpia winds up and throws, and Adora watches it go past. Ball.

“You replaced me so easily, Adora,” Catra says sweetly. “Did you ever care about me at all, or was I just your ticket to get out of our hellhole?”

A chill floods through Adora, like ice poured down her back. She turns her head sharply to look at Catra. “Catra I-”

“Strike!” the ump calls.

Catra throws the ball back at Scorpia. She sneers at Adora.

Adora flushes. The chill goes away, replaced by hot anger.

How dare she - how dare she use my worst fears against me. For a game!

Adora tightens her grip on her bat and focuses her attention on Scorpia as she winds up for another pitch. Adora gets in the zone.

“If you think I’ve missed you even a little-” Catra begins to say.

Adora swings. Her bat hits with a satisfying crack and the ball flies sky high. She doesn’t even need to watch it to know the result.

Home run!” the announcer screams over the loudspeaker. The crowd erupts into thunderous cheers and echoes of “She-Ra! She-Ra!” flood the stadium.

But Adora doesn’t start running - not yet. She looks down at Catra, who is staring shocked at the outfield. Catra slowly looks up. Their eyes meet.

“Better luck next time,” Adora says.

She drops her bat and trots around the bases, one hand raised to the fans.


“I’m so sorry, Wildcat,” Scorpia says when they return to the dugout. “I must have thrown the ball worse than I thought. I’m sure your call was really good and smart! It’s on me, not you.”

“It’s not your fault, Scorpia,” Catra replies in a monotone. “She’s just that good. It’ll take a miracle to keep her from getting a hit.”

“We’ll get her next time,” Scorpia says. “And hey! No matter how good she is, she’s only going to be up two more times at bat if we hold the others down. And gosh, you and me? We’ll hold them down. I know we can!”

“Yeah,” Catra says, but her mind is elsewhere.

“D’riluth! You’re up!” her coach calls out.

Catra grabs her batting helmet - a custom one with cat ears that Scorpia had gotten her - and heads out to stand on deck. She isn’t in any hurry; the batter before her is Entrapta, one of the craftiest hitters Catra has ever met, who can foul off almost any pitch she wants to. The Horde uses her to tire out the opposing pitcher as much as she can to soften them up for Catra. This strategy means that Entrapta’s at-bats last a long time, giving Catra the opportunity to hype herself up and study the pitcher.

Catra lets herself study Adora. She’s watched dozens of recordings of Brightmoon games, but those videos were a poor match for the real thing. Adora on the pitcher's mound is a painting in motion, all beauty and danger and fury. She doesn’t windmill like other pitchers nor does she use any flourishes. With one smooth movement she launches her entire body with each pitch - she’s always done that, no matter how much Catra suggested she pace herself - and she never quits.

She has always loved that hated that about her.

Finally Adora strikes Entrapta out on the twentieth pitch and it’s Catra’s turn at bat. She hits her bat against her cleat and freezes; she hopes that Adora has forgotten her nervous tics, but judging by Adora’s smirk, she hasn’t.

Laugh at me? Catra thinks. Fine.

She places her bat on her shoulder and sets up in the lefthanded batter’s box.

Adora doesn’t give anything away, just the slightest widening of eyes betraying her shock, but to Catra that tiny action was tantamount to shouting it over a bullhorn. Adora has never seen her bat from this direction (and how could she? Catra worked on this over a year in secret, after practices and secret trips to batting cages just for this moment) and now, with this tiniest of changes, Adora would have to reverse everything in her head to pitch against her. Catra knows that she’ll need every advantage she can get against Adora.

Adora winds up, Catra readies for it, and -

Adora’s pitch is fast. Catra barely tracks it as it blazes into the catcher’s mitt - didn’t even have the chance to move.

Damn, her eyes had forgotten how fast Adora throws.

“Ball!” the ump calls out.

Catra smirks at Adora, as if she had intended to let the pitch pass, like she hadn’t been caught unawares. Adora doesn’t even glance in her direction, her eyes fixed on her catcher’s instructions. Adora winds up again, and Catra gets ready for the next pitch.

Even accustomed to it, the ball seems impossibly fast. It paints as close to her as possible while crossing over the plate and Catra hesitates the slightest moment and her chance is over. Strike!

Catra takes a step back to get composed. It doesn’t work - like she could be anything close to normal with Adora.

Adora paints the corner with the next pitch. Catra is an expert at hitting these kinds of balls, but she still hasn’t gotten used to Adora’s speed again and her bat is slow. She hits the pitch late, and the softball flies out left. Foul.

Catra hisses out of the corner of her mouth. This is not how their first duel will go. She grips her bat tighter.

Finally, Catra swings at the right rhythm. The bat sends a pleasant vibration through her arms as it cracks against the ball. Catra takes off like a gunshot as soon as she realizes it’s not a foul. She looks up as she gets to first base and notices that the ball landed between the left and right fielder, and she pushes herself further than she’s ever pushed before. She barely dodges the baseman’s glove and slides onto third base. Safe.

Catra stands up and brushes the dirt off her pants. A triple off of She-Ra, the hero of Brightmoon. It’s a good start.


“We are witnessing a game for the ages, folks! Brightmoon and Horde U are trading blows like heavyweights! We’re at the top of the fourth and Horde U is leading 2-1. But watch out, because here comes She-Ra herself to the plate! Listen to that stadium going wild. Oh, but wait! What’s this? Looks like the Horde’s throwing us a curve ball of their own!”

“Defensive swap! Catcher and pitcher.” The ump calls.

What? Adora stares in shock as Scorpia heads to the dugout to get her catcher’s gear on. Catra looks cool and unaffected as she takes hers off and walks up towards the pitcher’s mound.

Adora gets the attention of the umpire. “Uh, would it be okay if I talked to my coach for a second?”

He has that look in his face, the one that Adora hates - the well-I-don’t-want-to-but-you-are-supposed-to-be-the-future-of-softball look that some folks get around her. “Well, it’s not often we have this happen during a game. I’ll allow it - but make it fast.”

Adora doesn’t argue and makes a beeline for the dugout. Coach Angella, Glimmer, and Bow meet her right at the entrance.

“Coach, are they just going to switch places? Can they do that?” Adora asks.

Angella has that deep furrow between her brows. “Well, it’s not a rule that’s often used, and never between the catcher and pitcher,” Angella says. “But yes, they can swap positions as often as they want without being ineligible to return to the game.”

“Figures that the Horde will abuse whatever tricks they can,” Glimmer spits out. “But hey, no backup pitcher can hold a candle to you, She-Ra.”

“It’s okay! You got this! We believe in you!” Bow says.

“It’s not any backup pitcher, it’s Catra,” Adora says, her voice unnaturally high. “We’ve pitched against each other thousands of times, and she’s -”

Angella places her hand on Adora’s shoulder, silencing her. “It’s all right, Adora. Calm down and do your best. But - their plan seems to be trying to tire you out specifically. I don’t want you to over-exert yourself.”

“Yes ma’am,” Adora says with a deep breath. She breaks into a dumb grin and flexes her arm. “They won’t tire me out, Coach. I’m as strong as an ox!”

The ump blows his whistle to signal the return to play. Adora nods at her teammates (who give her a reassuring thumbs-up) and jogs back to the batter’s box. Sure enough - Scorpia is crouching there behind the plate, and Catra is standing on the mound.

Feels weird.

“Hey, uh, Adora, right? I’ve heard a lot about you. From Catra, mostly. Good things! Well, not terrible things. Well no, some not terrible things.” Scorpia babbles.

Adora tenses up. As far as she knows, Scorpia’s just trying to be nice. But Catra’s insidious whispers are still bouncing around in her head (still hurting her). “Can we please do this later?” she asks through gritted teeth.

“Oh yeah! No problem. Mum’s the word, no distractions,” Scorpia says, then mimes locking her lips with a key.

Adora steps into the box and takes her stance. From here she can see the glint in Catra’s eyes, the intensity that’s always drawn her in.

Catra winds up and throws and -

Adora leaps back as the ball flies past her. If she hadn’t moved, it would have smacked her right in her hip. Her heart pounds; that pitch was faster than she expected - even faster than Scorpia’s. When did she learn to do that? she wonders.

“Sorry,” Catra says loudly, not sounding sorry in the least.

“Playing dirty?” Adora asks Scorpia in a low voice.

“Oh no,” Scorpia says, and the surprise sounds genuine. “I’m not calling the shots this time - Catra’s throwing what she wants against you, I’m just supporting her.”


Scorpia tosses the ball back. Catra throws again, and the pitch is low and incredibly fast. It’s a close call, but the ump calls it a strike.

Adora watches carefully, and Catra’s next pitch is a shifty curveball that just slides in over the plate. After that, another fastball -way out of the strike zone. Another fastball - closer, but still a ball.

The count is 3-2.

Okay. Now Adora gets it. Catra is throwing with her emotions, letting her pitches go without any sort of control whatsoever. That put a lot of zip in her pitches, but it also meant that Catra was throwing without a plan. Adora can do this - just instinct versus instinct, and she trusted her gut more than her brain anyway.

Catra sets up for another pitch, winds up and throws. Adora’s eyes follow the speedy low ball and starts to swing -

- and too late she realizes that Catra set a trap; it’s not a fastball at all; the ball starts defying gravity and rises -

- and Adora watches in horror as her bat whiffs, hitting nothing but air -

- but the ball keeps rising, and Scorpia can’t react fast enough -

- and the ball hits the edge of the catcher’s glove and bounces off.

Adora sees her opportunity. She drops her bat and takes off at top speed. Scorpia’s error prevents the immediate strikeout, but now it’s a race: if Scorpia can get to the ball and throw it to first before Adora can get there. Adora slides at earliest opportunity - and touches the base a split second before Lonnie catches the ball.

Lonnie helps her to her feet. “Been a while, Adora,” she says.

“Hey Lonnie,” Adora says, slightly out of breath. She’s not looking towards Lonnie, though - her attention is fixed on Scorpia and Catra, who seem to be switching places again. Adora gestures toward them. “Catra’s only going to pitch against me? I haven’t seen her pitching this year at all.”

“Yeah,” Lonnie says. “She’s on a rampage. She has it out for you, y’know.”

Adora winces. “I hoped she’d cool down over the year.”

Lonnie scoffs. “Are you kidding? We both know that girl holds a grudge like no one’s business. She wants to destroy you.”

Adora meets Lonnie’s gaze. “What about you? Are you mad I left the Horde?”

Lonnie shakes her head. “I get why you got out. And in the end, it’s just a game, y’know? We’re cool, you and me.”

Adora nods. Lonnie offers her hand, and the two bump fists.

The ump whistles, and the game starts again. Sea Hawk approaches the batter’s box with his customary swagger. Adora watches the play, looking for an opportunity. She tries, anyway; she can’t help her mind from wandering.

Lonnie said it was just a game, and Adora’d agreed, but.


Softball has never been just a game: not to her, not to Catra. Softball has been a cornerstone of her life ever since elementary school, when Ms. Weaver forced them to swing bats until their hands were bloody. Softball was their burden to bear until Adora and Catra both realized they were good at this. Softball slowly became Adora’s salvation, the way she fights against an uncaring world and the way that she shouts, I am Adora Grayskull.

And no matter how much Catra protested and said that she was just doing this to help her (ex) best friend out, Adora knows that Catra loves this game just as much as her.

“Strike three,” the ump calls. Adora blinks and realizes that Sea Hawk and Perfuma both struck out, and now Netossa is at bat. She bites her lip. How much time did she lose while she daydreamed?

Dread brews in her chest.

They were running out of time. With the way Scorpia is pitching, Adora would only have one more at-bat before the end of the game. Only one more chance to help her team score points. If she wanted to win, she needed to do something now.

She watches closely as Scorpia begins her pitch. The moment the ball leaves her hand, Adora dashes towards second. Netossa swings and misses. Catra reacts as soon as the ball hits her mitt, grabbing the ball and flinging it at second base to beat Adora. Rogelio catches the ball and swings down at Adora, but Adora gets there just in time. Safe.

Rogelio tosses the ball back at Scorpia and helps Adora up. Adora pants slightly and smiles at her giant friend. Thanks Rogelio, she signs at him; he can’t respond well, since one of his hands is in a glove, but he winks at her and signs you’re welcome.

Adora looks back at home plate and freezes. Catra is staring at her. She knows exactly what’s running through Adora’s head, and if she tries to steal the next base, Catra will be looking for it even faster than last time.

But the sense of dread still hasn’t left Adora. What choice did she have? Could she really wait and just hope that Netossa and the next batter could get her to cross home all the way from here?

Scorpia throws the next pitch, and just like last time Adora sprints as soon as the ball leaves her hand. Catra had expected it, called for a ball so she could throw to third faster. She leaps into motion and throws at third base - at Kyle.

Adora runs and dives face first, her hands outstretched. Her fingers touch the base at the same time Kyle slams his glove against her arm.

“Safe!” the umpire calls. The stadium erupts into wild cheers.

Adora slowly pushes off her elbows and gets to her feet. She can't catch her breath as quickly as usual - but she just threw like thirty pitches at Entrapta the previous inning and it was no small feat trying to outrun Catra's throw from home plate - twice. Kyle grabs her by the elbow and helps haul her up. Adora thanks him, breathless. She rests her hands on her knees, looking to make for home as soon as Netossa gets a hit.

Scorpia throws her pitch and -

"Strike three! Three outs!" the ump calls.

Adora feels her heart sink to her stomach. Shit.

She trots over to the dugout to grab her glove. Angella raises her hand to stop her, but Adora refuses to meet her gaze. "Adora-" Angella begins to say.

"I'm fine! I'm so good, Coach, let's do this!" Adora wheezes and throws two enthusiastic thumbs up that transition into finger guns. She slips past Angella and heads back out onto the pitcher’s mound, resisting the urge to smack herself on the forehead. Finger guns? To Angella? She's worse off than she thought.

To make matters worse, the announcer gives the call over the loudspeaker: "Batting sixth, Catra D'riluth." Adora looks up to see Catra already setting up in the batter's box.

Double shit.

Adora shakes her head clear. She tries to focus on the signal Bow is giving her. Well - she had to give it her best, even if she hasn't caught her breath yet. She grips the ball in her glove.

"Wait," Catra suddenly says.


Catra takes a step back out of the batter's box and looks at the umpire. "I'm sorry - my laces are loose. Can I?" The ump nods. Catra kneels down and slowly begins to untie her cleat.

Adora stares at Catra. A chill goes through her as she realizes what Catra is doing. Catra is -

Catra is giving Adora more time.

Adora should be using this time to full effect, to relax her mind and get her breath back, but her heart is beating faster than it has the whole game. Her entire face flushes. She stares openly at Catra. Catra isn't looking at her - she's studiously looking down, as if it takes all her concentration to tie her shoes.

"Batter-" the ump warns.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm ready," Catra says. She steps back into the box and gets in her batting stance.

Their eyes meet.

And suddenly, Adora feels as light as air.


The thing is -

The thing is.

It's been a year since Catra has seen Adora. A long, painful year.

It had been so easy to wallow in the hurt, the betrayal, the loss. She had thrown herself into school, into opposition research, into endless hours of practice. Over time softball became a weapon to wield, all so she could attack her ex-best friend. So she could beat Adora the next time they met. So she could prove to Adora that it had been a mistake leaving her side.

That next time is here and -

And here they are, playing their hearts out in front of a crowd of thousands. Just like they promised they would when they were kids.

And it is so easy to fall back in love with the game. The competition.


They were lying on the grass behind the softball field, where they practiced Catra’s pitching behind Weaver's back. Their short water break had turned into cloud-gazing and daydreaming, which suited Catra just fine.

"It's not fair," Adora whined. "All a batter has to do is win once, hit one home run, and everyone thinks they beat the pitcher. What about all the other pitches?"

"Cry me a river, princess," Catra responded. "It's all part of the game. That's why the pitcher gets all the glory, all the blame."

Adora shoved Catra in the shoulder, hard. "Hey, you're just as good a pitcher as I am. I'm sure Weaver will give you a chance to show off soon, and then the scholarship offers will start pouring in from all over the country."

"I think she'd rather drown me first," Catra said lightly.

Catra felt Adora's hand slip into hers. "Hey," Adora said.

Catra refused to turn away from the clouds. She felt the softest touch on her chin that turned insistent, as Adora turned Catra's face to hers.

Catra fought the urge to back away. When had Adora gotten so close-

"We're so close," Adora said. Her eyes burned into Catra's. "One more year, and we're going to be out of Weaver's clutches forever."

"Yeah," Catra said. A soft smile crept onto her face - the one reserved only for Adora. She could feel her chin burning where Adora's fingers touched. "We'll be out of here soon together."



For once, the memory doesn't burn her.

Catra looks up at the scoreboard and counts the innings. One more duel left.

Goosebumps rise along her arms.


"This is the absolute last chance for Brightmoon! The score is 1 - 2 at the top of the seventh. One runner on second, two outs, and SHE-RA the PITCHER OF POWER is up to bat! The crowd is deafening! Catra D'riluth, her old battery partner, is switching to the pitcher's mound. No matter who wins this duel, I can say for certain that the true winners are the fans of softball tuning in to witness this clash of titans!"

If Adora hits the ball into the outfield, Glimmer will have the chance to tie the game. That's all she needs to do.

Adora repeats it like a mantra in the back of her head.

Give Glimmer a chance. Give Glimmer a chance.

Catra is studying her as she steps into the box and sets. Adora can see the smirk on her face from here.

The first pitch is a fastball that blazes close to Adora. Adora steps back instinctively. She doesn't think Catra would intentionally hit her but her lack of control might cause a problem.

As she thinks about the last pitch, the second one comes. Adora swings; and though the pitch had looked fast coming out of Catra's hand, it lazily hits Scorpia's glove much slower than it looked. A changeup. Next - a fastball that Adora knows won’t get anywhere close to the plate.

Catra tries a curveball next, and Adora watches it pass by.

The next ball is thrown directly at Adora and she flinches. The ball curves at the last second and lands squarely over home plate.

Adora takes a deep breath. It's a full count. 3-2. The stadium has grown even louder - everyone is losing their goddamned minds.

The next pitch would decide everything. A lot of pitchers would walk Adora in this case - push the fate of the game to the next batter, but not Catra.

Adora knows Catra has been looking for this opportunity the entire day - one pure moment between the two.

Catra winds up.

Adora grips her bat.

The pitch is out and Adora swings -


The two teams line up after the game to shake hands. Catra is at the front of the line for the Horde. She nods politely to the Rebels as she slaps hands and murmurs words of encouragement. She rushes through the entire line except for the last player. Adora.

It looks like Adora doesn’t know how to approach her.

Catra takes the initiative. "Two home runs in a single game?" she drawls. "Showing off for your fans?"

Adora's face clears and she grins. "Yeah, just two. I must be off my game."

Catra snorts. "We'll see you in the World Series, Grayskull. I won't let you hit off me like that again."

Adora gives her a soft smile. "I'm looking forward to it, Catra."

Catra knows she should keep walking, give the teammates behind her a chance to shake Adora's hand and finish out this ritual, but.


Adora's face is struggling to contain all the emotions that must be flowing through her.

"You're terrible at hiding things, Adora," Catra says. She steps closer to Adora and Adora immediately wraps her arms around her.

"I miss you so much, Catra," Adora says, her voice breaking.

"Yeah," Catra whispers.

Adora breaks into tears, in front of the cameras, right there on the field.

Catra leans her head into Adora's shoulder.