In the competitive gaming world, Team Battles reign supreme. Multiplayer-Cooperative games dominate the industry, drawing in millions of players worldwide. However, one genre has always thrived outside the realm of teamwork—where individual skill, raw talent, and personal rivalries take center stage. A scene built on ego, heated competition, and the relentless pursuit of optimization.

  Fighting games.

  The Fighting Game Community (FGC).

  Flashback:

  An eight-year-old girl hesitates in the doorway, gripping the straps of her faded denim overalls with small, uncertain hands. Her warm mocha-toned skin catches the soft glow of the hallway light as she shifts nervously. Her mother, Jasmine Maxim, gently places a hand on her shoulder, urging her inside. "It's okay sweetie. Mrs. Martha will watch over you and Lucy.” Jasmine says with a reassuring smile.

  Nora tugs at her overalls, glancing up with deep brown eyes, wide with hesitation. "Can't you stay with me?

  Jasmine crouches, brushing a curl away from Nora’s round, honey-dusted cheek. "I wish I could, but I have errands to run. Don’t worry, you’ll have fun!"

  Nora stares at the floor, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

  “Come on Nora!”

  The sudden call snaps her focus forward. Lucy, a girl with pale porcelain skin and golden-blonde hair pulled into two bouncy ponytails, rushes toward her, excitement gleaming in her light hazel eyes. She grabs Nora’s hand, tugging her further into the apartment with eager determination.

  Jasmine and Mrs. Martha, a woman with soft laugh lines and a kind but tired face, share a knowing smile as their daughters rush off together.

  “Yeah, yeah!” “Get him!” “Come on one more combo!”

  The excited shouts from the sudden outburst grabs the attention of everyone.

  "Oh, that’s just my son and his friends," Mrs. Martha says with a chuckle, waving a hand dismissively. "Don’t mind them. We girls are going to have our own fun!"

  Lucy giggles, unbothered. But Nora glances toward the noise, curiosity flickering across her face. Before she can ask anything, Lucy tugs on her arm again, urging her down the hallway.

  As they pass through the apartment, Nora notices how neat and polished everything is—the scent of lemon-scented cleaner lingering in the air. Framed family photos line the walls, capturing moments frozen in time.

  Then—the sound of rapid button clicks and shouting grows louder.

  The door to a nearby room is slightly ajar, and despite herself, Nora peeks inside.

  Inside, four teenage boys are gathered around a TV, their faces lit by the flickering screen. Soda cans and half-eaten bags of chips are scattered around them. The screen flashes with fast-paced action—Capcom vs. SNK 2.

  Nora watches, entranced, as vibrant characters clash in a seamless flurry of movement. The jazzy, high-energy soundtrack fills the space, but what truly pulls her in is the energy in the room—the mix of laughter, fierce competition, and playful trash talk.

  "What game is that?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

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  Lucy barely glances at the screen. "Some fighting game my brother begged my mom for. He plays it for hours. I tried it, but it’s way too hard."

  But Nora isn’t listening anymore. Her wide eyes remain locked on the screen, heart pounding with something she can’t quite name.

  One day later.

  The doorbell rings. Martha answers, revealing Isiah Maxim—a tall, laid-back, black man with a relaxed but confident demeanor.

  "I hope she behaved herself," Isiah says with a chuckle.

  "Oh, absolutely! She was an angel," Martha reassures him, before adding with a smile, "Though, toward the end of the night, she got really interested in the game my son and his friends were playing."

  Isiah raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

  Before Martha can respond, a voice rings out—

  “Dad!”

  Isiah barely has time to react before Nora comes running toward him, a massive grin plastered across her face. Startled, he kneels down just in time for her to slam into his arms.

  “Dad!” Nora yells.

  "Whoa, Nor Nor, what’s gotten into you?" Isiah laughs.

  Still beaming, Nora pulls back just enough to look him in the eyes.

  “Do you think you could buy me this game? You can play it on your game system at home.” Nora says.

  "Uh… okay?" Isiah chuckles, scratching the back of his head. "What game are we talking about here?"

  FROM THAT POINT ON, I BECAME OBSESSED WITH FIGHTING GAMES.

  END OF FLASHBACK.

  Present Day.

  Now fifteen years old, Nora sits in the back of a moving van, her headphones blasting music while she watches a live-streamed tournament of a fighting game calledCombo Breaker. The shifting furniture around her doesn’t bother her. She’s too focused, analyzing each match, taking mental notes of strategies and high-level plays.

  That is—until the truck comes to a sudden stop.

  The back doors swing open, and sunlight floods inside, making Nora squint as she shields her eyes. Jasmine stands outside, smiling brightly.

  “Come see the new house sweetie, it’s beautiful!” Jasmine beams. Isiah walks up next to her, ready to start the grueling process of “moving in.” He’s slightly less enthusiastic, especially after the several hours drive, he just had to do it to get here. He lets out a big yawn.

  "You okay, NOR NOR?" he asks, stretching. "The drive wasn’t too bad for you?"

  "Not at all," Nora replies, unplugging her headphones. "I just watched the tournament the whole way."

  "Should’ve figured." Isiah smirks. "Well, come check out the house. Seems like a nice neighborhood.

  Nora finally steps out, stretching her arms overhead before rolling her shoulders.

  "This is going to be the last time we move, right?" she asks, her tone colder than she intended.

  Jasmine and Isiah exchange a look.

  "I don’t want to lie to you," Isiah sighs. "But my supervisor assured me this promotion means we can finally settle down somewhere. Lay some real roots."

  Nora’s Thoughts:

  They always say that.

  Every time my dad gets stationed somewhere new, they tell me, ‘This is the last move.’

  But it never is.

  It’s not their fault. Both Mom and Dad are military. When they have to move, we move. It’s not like I have a job or my own place to live anyway.

  As the neighbors start to step outside, noticing the moving truck, they offer polite waves. Jasmine and Isiah wave back, but Nora quickly looks away, uncomfortable with the attention.

  Isiah catches this and chuckles.

  "Tell you what, kiddo," he says. "Mom and I will go talk to some of the neighbors. You go check out the house, see what you think. That way, we all get a break before the real work starts."

  Nora nods. "Deal."

  Nora’s Thoughts:

  I hate moving.