University of Console Heroics: Chapter 3

Foster and the rest of the students are sitting in rows on the floor of the Intro to Energy classroom. Each of them attempting to mimic the pose and breathing patterns of their teacher Cynthia sitting on the floor facing them at the front of the room. Foster is the only one with his eyes open, awkwardly looking around the room at all the serenity he is clearly not feeling. He looks up at his teacher, her eyes also closed, she takes a deep breath in, and slowly exhales.

“Ok everyone.” She alerted the room with her eyes still closed. Foster shut his tight quickly so as not to stand out when she opened hers. “That’s enough for today. You can open your eyes and relax now.” 

The class including Foster opened their eyes and relaxed their sitting positions. “For class Wednesday I would like you all to work on your breathing. Three seconds in, and three seconds out. The point is learning to control your natural instincts, the fun flashy stuff come later. Are there any questions?” She asked stretching out her legs. The class remained quiet. “All right then, good first day, I’ll see you all on Wednesday.”

The students move quickly to gather their things up and leave the room. Cynthia is in no such hurry. Foster stretches his legs out folds himself in half. Cynthia looks over, then decides to get up and sit in front of him. Foster sits back upright and sees Cynthia sitting in front of him. “Sorry, I’ll get out of here.”

Cynthia shakes her head. “No you’re fine, it’s not like you were doing much in the way of meditation during class, a little extra practice will be good for you.” She moved her legs back into sitting cross legged.

Foster copied her awkwardly. “I didn’t really think the basics of fighting were going to be sitting in silence and breathing, no offense.” He verbally stumbled over his thoughts.

Cynthia smiled a little. “None taken. Sitting in silence and breathing is hard for many people because they have spent their entire lives controlling things through physical force.” She closed her eyes and this time Foster copied her. Letting his visual awareness of the room and of Cynthia transfer to his ears and his nose. “Hitting, kicking, screaming, yelling, taking up space and making sure people know it.” She continued at a measured and calm pacing, almost hypnotically. “Self-control and self-awareness are forms of mental control, two forms of control that many people and many Combat Studies majors have a very hard time learning to wield.”

Foster was finally starting to relax, his breathing was still an uneven ragged mess but he felt less awkward just sitting with his eyes actually closed. “You make it sound like brute force is inherently weaker than mental prowess.” He stated.

“Not weaker, just enslaved. All biological life is enslaved to their own mind.” She opened and eye and looked at Foster who legitimately still had his eyes closed and was trying intensely to count three second breathing windows silently to himself. She closed her eye. “For what is brute strength but the will of the mind made manifest by your body.”

Foster lost his count. “So, like, I am my own worst enemy.”

Cynthia smiled. “But with proper training you have to potential to be your strongest and most loyal ally.” She opened her eyes, so did Foster. She got up and walked over to her bag.

Foster put his left shoe on. “Oh! Um, so, do you know Dean Thompson?” He asked with all the awkwardness back in his voice.

Cynthia zipped up her bag. “Used to.” She offered. “He, stopped talking to me a while ago.” 

Foster contemplates this as he shoved his right foot into his sneaker. Then stands up and grabs his bag. “Hey, um, I really appreciate the extra help and everything.” They stopped at the door. “But if you don’t mind me asking why he would tell me to say hi to you for him if he has been ignoring you?” The question rushed awkwardly out of his mouth.

“If you need to know so badly, ask him. I haven’t gotten anything useful from his answering machine.” She said bitterly.

“Sorry, it’s really none of my business.” He apologized.

She shook her head. “He’s the dick for using you as a messenger. You can’t exactly mind your own business when someone is actively shoving your face in theirs”

Foster shrugged his shoulders as he Followed Cynthia out of the room and shut of the lights before the door closed.