Author's Notes:
Thirteen and Dhawan!Master. Not shippy but not not shippy. First person. Quite unlike my usual style probably because I wrote it mostly in a dream. So, you know, warning for that.

He wants to defeat her, but it's got to feel right.

It was not the first time I'd pursued her over rooftops.

I thought I was about to catch her—grab her by her stupid lapels, see the fear spark in her eyes again—but she took one more step backwards, and then she was dangling by her fingertips over a sheer drop.

I, the Master, exercised the power of my will over time and space, and a narrow ledge existed just below my enemy's feet. She dropped onto it, breathed deeply, and ran away again.

Simple transmigration of an object. A schoolchild's trick. It probably appears impressive to you. Humans!