The sound of punches and kicks echoed through the dojo, steady and sharp. I stood near the edge of the mat, arms crossed, watching every move carefully. The red widow emblem on the wall was a reminder of what this dojo stood for. Strength, precision, and control.
"Finn, move faster!" I called out, pacing. He was one of my best, but his punches still lacked the speed I needed to see.
"In a real match, that hesitation will cost you."
"Yes, Sensei," Finn replied, gritting his teeth as he pushed himself harder.
Across the room, Raven and Riley were sparring. Raven swept Riley off her feet, but Riley bounced back up in seconds, a small grin on her face.
"Nice recovery, Rye," I said. "Raven, don't get lazy. Always finish the fight."
"Yes, Sensei," Raven said firmly, resetting her stance.
I kept walking around the room, checking on everyone. My students were strong, confident, and focused. They were everything I'd trained them to be. But watching them stirred something inside me, an old ache I couldn't shake.
"Switch partners!" I clapped my hands, and the students shifted positions. Finn paired with Raven now, the two captains. Their respect for each other showed, but they were still competitive. Finn's sharp focus matched Raven's quick reflexes, and they pushed each other harder than anyone else could.
I leaned against the wall, my fingers brushing the necklace I always wore. It was a habit I couldn't break, especially when my mind started to drift. The necklace reminded me of a certain time of my life, but I couldn't let myself go there. Not now, especially not with the tournament.
"Max, keep your guard up!" I called out, spotting one of my younger students making the same mistake again.
"If you drop your hands, you might as well hand your opponent the win."
"Sorry, Sensei," Max mumbled, fixing his stance.
The session continued, the sounds of training filling the room. My students were getting stronger every day, but as I watched them, that familiar ache grew heavier. It was a feeling I couldn't explain, one I never talked about.
Finally, I clapped my hands again. "Class dismissed."
The students bowed before packing up their gear, their laughter and chatter bouncing off the walls. I stayed behind, standing alone in the now-quiet dojo. My hand went to the necklace again, the cool metal grounding me.
I stared at the empty mats, feeling the weight of memories I couldn't seem to leave behind. Some days, I felt like I was in control. Other days, it felt like the past was winning.
Today was one of those days.
The silence of the dojo after class was deafening. It was just me now, me and the thoughts I couldn't quiet. My fingers tightened around the necklace hidden beneath my shirt, the cool metal pressing into my palm like a lifeline.
But even that wasn't enough to stop the storm brewing in my chest.
I walked over to the mat and tightened the wraps around my hands. My reflection stared back at me from the mirror, a mix of focus and exhaustion in my eyes.
"Just a few minutes," I told myself. "Just enough to clear my head"
I stepped into my stance and threw the first punch. The impact against the training dummy sent a dull ache through my knuckles, but it felt good, like I was finally fighting something I could see.
Another punch. Then another. My movements sped up, each strike harder than the last.
"Focus," I whispered under my breath. "Control."
