Thompson
looked himself over in the mirror. He was alone, uncomfortable, moving his body
trying to remember how he ever felt comfortable in a gi. He pulled his belt
apart for the third time and tied it back up again. Rolled his shoulders trying
to find the room for them to sit naturally, everything about this felt awkward
and un-natural. He checked the wall clock and tried to figure out if he had
enough time to run before Cynthia caught him.
The knock
at the door answered that question for him. She entered the room cautiously
until she saw him full dressed, she closed the door behind her and walked over
to stand behind him. He looked at her through the mirror, she smiled at him and
made a few slight adjustments to his top and belt, instantly causing everything
to sit right again. She ran her hands down his shoulders. “You look good.” She
complimented him as she stepped back.
He turned
around to face her. “Well I feel terrible.” He admitted.
She
nodded, her smile lost a bit of its luster. “If it means anything I really,
really appreciate this. You could have turned me down.” She said taking a step
away from him.
He
followed her and grabbed her wrist, pulling her close. There was no mirror between
them now. “I could never turn you down.’ He assured her.
Their
kiss was short but relaxed them both. She lowered away from him reluctantly. “You
ready?” She asked.
Thompson
shook his head in the negative. “No. But let’s do it any way.” They exited the
green room hand in hand.
The Gym
had been built for basketball games. There were bleachers on the walls that
could be extended out with a crank mechanism giving spectators a place to sit
and watch the games. Today the hoops were up and the Combat studies post grads
were giving their semester presentations to their advisers. Foster had grabbed
himself a spot in the front row. Sanders along with his father and professor Bannister
entered the gym. Foster and Sanders waved at each other, Foster stood up to
greet them when they got close.
“Foster,
this is my dad.” Sanders said as Foster and William shook hands.
“And this
is Professor Bannister.” Foster shook his hand.
“Nice to
meet you both. Would you care to join me?” Foster asked, gesturing to the
largely empty front row. The trio nodded and they took their seats. “So what’s
your interest in the graduate showcase?” He asked.
William
and Professor Bannister looked at each other, paused for a moment and then
Professor Bannister shrugged. “Starting to look for new talent.” He admitted.
Foster
nodded. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” He offered.
Thompson
and Cynthia entered the gym and walked to the mat in the center of the room. Thomson moved to his side of the mat white Cynthia faced the
audience of about twenty people. “Thank you all for coming to my graduate
showcase. My name is Cynthia, and this is my showcase.” She moves to her side
of the mat as the audience claps.
The
referee for the match preps Cynthia and Thompson for their fight. They face
each other and bow, square off and each drop into their own stances. The fight
Thompson had with Foster was short, brutal, and ugly. There was no finesse,
neither of them were interested in showing off. Each had and end goal and no
interest in dragging things out. This presentation was a different situation
entirely. Thompson and Cynthia had a long history of sparing with each other
but they had never gone full out against each other in a competitive exhibition.
Thomson had no desire to show Cynthia up and fully expected to lose. Cynthia
was looking to show off. She was chaining together combinations of moves that
was forcing Thompson to legitimately pay attention in order to stay on his
feet. She knew he favored solid stances and was deliberately attacking his base
forcing him to stay mobile and never allowing him to set into a position he
could find immovable footing. Thompson realized quickly that while this was an
exhibition match, she was fighting to win. The Referee called point after point
in her favor. The exhibition was best of three first to five point matches. And
while he had every intention of making Cynthia look good, the tiny ember of
fire in his chest had different plans. As more and more of his concentration
was drawn into the actual fight he could feel the fire gathering power in his
chest. In what felt like the blink of an eye he realized he had Cynthia in a
choke hold which she quickly turned against him, hip throwing him off the mat.
He was back on his feet before he had consciously processed the throw. He
charged Cynthia and the ref stepped in his way only to catch and explosive blue
flaming foot to the chest knocking him to the ground out cold. Foster took a
step off the bench but Cynthia held her hand out to stop him, waved at the
unconscious ref and moved around the mat keeping Thompson’s flaming blue eyes
on her as Foster and Sanders dragged the referee away from the fight.
Thompson
charged Cynthia in a blinding blue streak of screaming flame. She sidestepped
and took his feet out from under him, catching him in the small of the back
with her elbow and drove him into the ground hard enough to know the wind out
of his lungs and dissipate the fire everywhere except his eyes. The pair got to
their feet slowly. There was nothing beautiful about the next few blows, no
artistry, no craft. Thompson started off by bringing the full force of his
elbow to Cynthia’s jaw, He carried the shot through and when he righted himself
she was still on her feet. Her body awash in emerald green flame. She wiggled
her jaw back and forth knowing it was going to be a new world of pain when the
adrenaline wore off but not caring in the moment. The Blue fire took his body
over again as Thompson was on guard for everything, except the lightning fast
kick to the nuts that brought him to his knees and put stars in his eyes. He never
saw the uppercut that took him off his knees. As he few through the air the
blue flame separated from him, keeping his body shape for a second before the
fire dissipated into thin air. When he opened his eyes again, they were clear.
Cynthia
was standing on the far side of the mat facing away from him. The green flame
rising up her body in calm, even waves. Thompson got to his knees first, shook
off the upper cut and shot to the nuts and then got to his feet. Cynthia turned
around to face him and saw that he had chosen a more fluid stance. She charges
him and he uses her own style against her, tripping her up, and catching her as
she rotates to strike back at him, He grabs her wrist as she tries to strike
him, they hit the mat together and he uses his free hand to tap out. Her flame disappears.
Both of them are bruised, bloody and going to be in a lot of pain very soon. None
of which stops Thompson from kissing Cynthia before be breaks away with a
smile. “You win.” He congratulates her as they pick each other off the map to
the applause of the crowd.
