Somewhere around the fourth group James worked out what he was actually watching, and it was not what he had expected.
These people were good. Some of them were better than he had been eighteen months ago and one or two of them had more floors than Finn.
But they had to *look*.
That was the whole of it. He kept seeing the same half-second everywhere: a candidate turning to check whether their teammate was moving before committing to a movement of their own. Two people reaching for the same opening because neither of them knew whose it was. Somebody hesitating over whether covering the man on their left was their job, deciding it was, and arriving a beat after it would have mattered.
Nothing was wrong with any of them.
They had just never done it before with each other.
