"No wins yet. I'm really just playing for the experience more than anything." She realizes how bloodthirsty that sounds and pauses. "I mean. Not like that."

She doesn't want to admit that she intentionally throws each match, if she gets far enough to do so.

"I..." She embraces it like an old friend. Even now that she doesn't look forward to it, there's a certain familiarity, a coziness with which she greets those cold fingers grasping into her brain every time. "I don't think about it that much. It's just like fainting, to me. Not super fun but I forget all about it in a few days."

It's a lie, but nothing about her tone shows it.