Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Noriyuki flew through the air and, as his body rotated, his legs created a perfect right angle before he kicked backward and landed in a perfect stance. In the air, it seemed like gravity had no effect on him.

Replaying Noriyuki’s flying back kick in my head, I returned to my own balance exercise until the waves became so choppy that I could only stay on the board for a maximum of two seconds.

“What was that move you were practicing?” I wrapped a towel around my shoulders. The air and water combined felt much colder when I wasn’t focused on training. Small bumps broke out all over my arms and legs.  

“Nothing for you to worry about, Slim. First you must make friends with gravity. Then you can fly. Otherwise you will just fall. Understand?”

With a halfhearted sigh, I agreed and followed him up the beach where he’d set up two chairs. I tucked my knees up to keep warm. “How did you learn regular Bin-son anyway?” I asked.

Noriyuki gazed out at the sea with a serene expression. “I was a soldier,” he said simply.

Through chattering teeth, I said, “But soldiers learned Yeong Bin-son, right?”

“Not before the Wars of Lost Faiths.” Noriyuki settled back into his chair, indicating that he was going to teach me something. So I made myself as comfortable as I could on the hard wood. “My whole family were soldiers—mother, father, brothers, cousins—who learned Earthen combat. When the First War of Lost Faiths began, we were relocated to Calif. Most Earthen soldiers continued to learn planet-bound combat, but I met my partner Jedrzej and joined the new fighters with him.” Noriyuki pronounced his partner’s name like “Yen-zhay,” which was far from how I would’ve said it.

“So why did the ‘new fighters’ learn regular Bin-son?” I asked when Noriyuki failed to elaborate. History had never kept my interest in school, so I figured I was missing some sort of obvious context, but Noriyuki never made me feel stupid for not knowing something. I knew he would answer honestly if he had the information.

“At the beginning, the Faithful were on the same side, but every planet relied only on its own resources. The Faithful Allies did not combine into one entity until the Second War. Calif was not as prosperous before the Wars and had the barest training available for soldiers. Only a few new soldiers even learned regular Bin-son because of the weapons we were supposed to have. When those failed in zero gravity, we adjusted to Yeong Bin-son on the job.”

I nodded, now even more confused about the Wars of Lost Faiths. We never learned about them as individual wars, always as a collective, and I’d never really thought about them as anything but one big ordeal. For the soldiers, each war must have been different.

“So,” I said slowly, wondering if I should even ask the question even as it came out of my mouth, “what does it mean to be a ‘Faithful Star’?”

Noriyuki looked surprised but not upset. In fact, he smiled a little bit. “You are very observant, Slim.”

I broke eye contact, feeling a little guilty about snooping that one night I’d found him kneeling by his bed. Whatever had happened to Jedrzej, he clearly wasn’t a part of Noriyuki’s life anymore, and I had just poked at that wound without knowing how healed it was. If it was healed at all. And as far as I knew, Noriyuki’s stinky salve didn’t work on emotional wounds.

“A Faithful Star is awarded to a soldier who fought in more than one war with ‘exemplary principle and valor.’” Noriyuki slapped the armrest of his chair and swiftly changed directions. “Rest time is over. We need to get you to the computer.”

I reluctantly got up and helped Noriyuki carry the chairs back to the café we’d borrowed them from before going to his house to tinker with the computer in his back garden. I’d gotten to the point where I could test it out to see if anything turned on when I plugged it in. So far, I’d only gotten the fan to work.  

It took me only a couple more days to master the wakeboard—Noriyuki even let me attempt a stint on his surfboard, which ended when I started coughing up water. The next day, we met at Noriyuki’s instead of the beach. My bike skidded as I hit the brakes to avoid smacking into the person standing in the middle of the path. Noriyuki wore a weird bulky vest over his chest and oddly shaped mitts on his hands. I hopped off my bike and let it fall to the ground.

Noriyuki planted his feet on the ground and clapped the mitts together. “Today, we learn how to punch.” Then he instructed me to hit him in the chest as hard as I could. When I hesitated, he hit me on the side of the head with one of the thick mitts.

If I hadn’t been working on my balance for days straight, I probably would’ve stumbled backward. Instead, I stayed in place and threw a punch in retaliation. The impact did not send me backward as it would have in zero gravity. With my body and Noriyuki’s body still in place, my entire arm felt the force, not just my knuckles.

Noriyuki let out a small grunt of disappointment. He grabbed my wrist and positioned my fingers correctly—thumb on the outside, knuckles at an angle—before tapping the front of my fist. “You have power throughout your entire body, potential energy. You must concentrate all of that energy into your fist. Twist your hips, engage your muscles, breathe out—use your body to put all the energy into your fist. When you hit, you will feel the energy transfer. Okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed, only half understanding everything he was telling me. The gist was clear—all of my power had to go into my fist for the punch to be effective. I planted my feet, bent my knees, twisted my hips a few times, and then attempted the punch, focusing not on my fist, but on my entire body. My fist connected with the vest on Noriyuki’s chest, eliciting an “oof!”

I opened my mouth to apologize, but Noriyuki cheered before I could get anything out. “Good job! You are a quick learner now, Slim!”

A smile tugged at my lips. “Really?”

“Hiya!” Noriyuki landed a hard punch near my shoulder, and even with the padded mitts, it hurt.

“Hey!” I yelled, raising my own fists instead of rubbing my shoulder like I wanted to.

“Don’t lose focus,” he told me.

With that focus, the next few weeks went by quickly. Too quickly. Soon after learning the simple punches, Noriyuki taught me some kicks. He gave me a similar speech about potential energy and all that with a few minor adjustments. Soon, I could win points when we sparred, even if it wasn’t often and rarely with a kick. Little by little, more of the computer fit together until, when I plugged it into the rattling power-source, all of the lights brightened and the grainy screen turned on to reveal clunky text on a blue background. The text was in a coding language I wasn’t familiar with, but I was so excited that I ran inside to tell Noriyuki.

In the small amount of free time I had between training, computer doctoring, schoolwork, hiding from Hannah, and evading my mother’s questions, I secretly went back to the beach to try Noriyuki’s flying back kick. The amount of times I fell on my side, twisted my ankle, or only made it halfway around were too many to count. I was beginning to feel like I wouldn’t be able to master it without help, but Noriyuki would’ve told me to focus on mastering the basics. And I wasn’t about to give up. What I missed most about Yeong Bin-son was the feeling of weightlessness—of flying through the air—and this seemed like the closest I could get without a zero gravity chamber.

Three days after I fixed the computer, and two days before the tournament, my birthday arrived. Somehow, Noriyuki found out and wanted to celebrate. I’d also promised my mom I would have dinner with her to make up for being so elusive the past couple months. She even made brownies.

So instead of using one of the few days left before the tournament to practice, I had to spend all day celebrating my pathetic and possibly almost over life.

Noriyuki made me a meal of long noodles with some sort of thick black sauce. It tasted nothing like the fishy meals I’d adapted to, nor the synthetic space station meals, but I ate every last bite. My chopstick skills had even improved, though not by much.

Once we were done eating, Noriyuki sang me some birthday song I’d never heard before and handed me a present.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” I told him, surprised that this tradition was still common on Calif. On JSS, birthdays were usually celebrated in your community space with only those in your community. Everyone contributed a flower—fake or real—to a bouquet and the person whose birthday was being celebrated shared their favorite food in return. Mine was always brownies—I’d brought some with me to Noriyuki’s. Gift-giving was rare beyond the bouquet, which stayed in the community space until the next birthday or the flowers died. On a space station, almost everything was shared. It would be weird to give something to just one person rather than offer it to the whole community.

Regardless, Noriyuki urged me to unwrap and open the wide, flat box he’d given me. Inside was some sort of rough cloth with a rendering of the bleeding heart flowers stitched onto it. The thread was a beautifully vibrant pink that, though not a perfect match for the real thing, seemed to jump out from the fabric. When I lifted the fabric from the box, it unfolded into a full Bin-son jumpsuit.

“Wow,” I breathed, eyes riveted to the sewn-on flowers. “This is amazing.”

“A quality boxer needs a quality suit,” Noriyuki commented. “Jedrzej sewed the patch because he missed the flowers. Space stations didn’t have the technology they do today, but we made some beautiful art.” Leave it to Noriyuki to turn his negative experiences into something positive. Always all about “balance.”

Which reminded me—“Oh! I have something to show you.” I retrieved my recently purchased used tablet and clicked on the Photos&Vids icon. The app opened up to a photo of Hannah and me on our Arcade date. She held up the little stuffed bear with one hand and gave me antennae with the other. The emotions I’d been avoiding suddenly ambushed me. I took a deep breath and blinked my eyes until I had them under control again. Then I swiped away from the picture and to the video I actually wanted.

The only sound in the video was the roaring sound of the wind, but it showed a vague figure riding a surfboard on a small wave. “I rented a surfboard and managed to get up on my first day. Pretty good balance, eh?” Granted, I did fall down at the end of the video, but I managed to stay on my feet for almost thirty seconds.

Noriyuki nodded his approval in one swift motion, as he usually did, and then reached over to swipe back to the Arcade photo. “Is this a friend? You never talk about friends.”

I took the tablet back and put the screen in sleep mode. “She’s not a friend. She’s… no one.” My mind spun, trying to recover so that Noriyuki didn’t question me any further. “I don’t need friends at school, anyway. I have you!”

He chuckled but shook his head. “You know, Slim, when it comes to balance, sometimes it helps to have other people around to hold the ground steady beneath your feet. Do you understand?”

“I don’t need her to keep me balanced. I can do it myself.” I could hear my voice getting whinier, my words getting pettier, but I couldn’t stop them.

Noriyuki patted my arm where it rested on the table. “Yes, you can do it by yourself. But balance is much easier to achieve when you have someone by your side. In turn, you can help them keep their own balance. You see?”

I nodded pitifully. “Yeah, I see.”

“Good. Now, one last surprise before you go home.” Noriyuki led me to the side of the house and held out his arms to bring attention to the autobike propped up on its kickstand. The autobike was an old model, as evidenced by the keyhole, but the red paint was shining so brightly I had to squint at it. I wasn’t entirely sure what Noriyuki was trying to point out to me. Was this another task? Was the engine broken? Would cleaning the autobike make me a better Bin-son boxer?

“You got a new bike?” I said finally.

Noriyuki shook his head and laughed at my confusion. “No, Slim! It’s for you. To save your legs some effort.”

I nearly let go of my bag. My hand reached out of its own accord and stroked the smooth metal. The heat coming from the autobike matched its red tone. “Are you serious? Where did you find this?”

“I am serious,” Noriyuki said. “I built it.”

Now I was really shocked. “You built this?”

“Of course. You rebuilt my computer for me, so I built an autobike for you.”

Hastily hanging my bag from the bike’s handlebars, I launched myself at Noriyuki in a hug. His shoulders and chest shook with more laughter. When I let go, Noriyuki handed me the key so I could start the engine. The whole bike shook with power.

“Slim!” Noriyuki shouted over the noise. I watched his mouth to make sure I understood him correctly. “Remember what I said about sharing balance. Go find your stability.”

“I will,” I promised. Even with the tournament looming ahead of me, I felt lighter.

With my left foot, I kicked up the stand and revved the engine before jerking forward accidentally. It took me a moment to get a hang of the controls, but once I did, Noriyuki cheered me on as I peeled out of the garden and onto the dusty paths.

During dinner and brownies with my mom, I carefully answered every question without mentioning the upcoming tournament. She’d been iffy about me even learning Yeong Bin-son on JSS, so I doubted she’d be fine with me taking it up again in order to actually fight. She thought I was doing odd jobs for Noriyuki, and I hinted that I’d been spending the rest of my time with Hannah, which was the only reason she let me leave after dessert rather than insisting on a night in.

The sky was already dark when I hopped on my new autobike and turned the key. I was glad that I didn’t have to rely on night-time public transportation, which was not made for traveling to the privately owned buildings. This time, when I reached Hannah’s building, I had to send three messages before I got a response saying, “I’ll be down.”

A few minutes  later, Hannah opened the door. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe, unwilling to come all the way outside to talk to me. “What do you want?”

I ran my tongue over my teeth to make sure there weren’t any brownie bits stuck in my mouth. “It’s my birthday,” I said lamely.

She brushed her bangs aside. They’d grown long enough to get caught in her eyelashes. “Happy birthday, Slim.” Hannah turned to leave, but I reached out to grab the door.

“Wait, that’s not why I came here.” I waited until she was facing me again before letting go of the door. “I’m sorry for snapping at you on the beach. And avoiding you. It’s not your fault Johnny’s an asshole. I was just upset… and anyway, I’m sorry.”

Hannah’s eyes narrowed as she scrutinized me. Then she smiled slightly. “Johnny is an asshole,” she agreed. “I didn’t mean to forget about you during that dinner.”

“So are we good?”

“We’re good.”

I reached for hand, unable to contain my excitement, and dragged her over to my new autobike. “Wanna drive?”

Hannah clapped her hands like a little kid before hopping on. She sped around like a fiend, but she was better at driving the autobike than I was. Even though I held on tight to her waist, I didn’t feel unsafe. The night ended back at her building, where we kissed goodnight and she promised to come to the tournament with me.

The tournament venue was insane. A sizeable crowd of people, mostly parents and friends, gathered on the tiered benches set up around the gigantic arena. At the check-in area, Noriyuki had to lie about my armband status, somehow producing a black one for me as we made our way to the boxers’ compartment. All the while, Hannah was chattering nervously in my ear.

“Okay, so Calif’s two main landmasses are split into two quadrants each. Each quadrant has five divisions based on skill level. Division 1 is the highest. Boxers from all four quadrants will be here. There’s usually not a lot of inter-quadrant travel unless there’s a big event because our cities are mainly located near the shore.”

I took in about half of what Hannah was telling me. All around were boxers that seemed bigger and more skilled than I was, practicing combinations and moves I could barely follow. Most boxers came in teams, including Johnny and his goons, who’d come with their intense instructor Kive. His hawk tattoo was on full display not just on his arm, but also on the backs of his students’ jumpsuits.

“So how does all this work?” I asked Noriyuki, gesturing to the twelve makeshift “chambers,” which were really just roped off octagons with a line drawn down the middle. The chart on the gigantic arena screens listed the names of competitors in a bracket I couldn’t comprehend.

Noriyuki shrugged in response. “I don’t know. This is my first time.”

If it was possible for me to be even more scared, this would’ve pushed me over the edge. “What?”

“Slim,” Noriyuki said sternly, waving a hand in front of my unfocused eyes. My attention darted all over the place. “Trust your training. Trust your body.”

I twisted my hands together to keep them from shaking. “Do you think I have a chance at winning?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Noriyuki said confidently. “You just need to do your best. Gain respect.”

“That sounds like a ‘no.’”

“Only if you think it’s a ‘no.’”

Hannah slipped her arm through mine and offered words of encouragement that went in one ear and out the other. In a whirlwind, I was rushed into the boxers’ compartment with the other competitors to change into my jumpsuit and prepare.

“Your mommy’s not here to dress you?” Johnny’s voice pierced through the silence of the corner I’d found for myself. Of course, my zipper got stuck halfway up my chest, and Johnny laughed at me as I tugged on it. I was relieved to see that the titanium coating on Johnny’s fist was gone. His hand was paler than the rest of his body, making it look like he was wearing some kind of weird white glove. Certain alterations must have been against the rules.  

Suddenly, the zipper gave way and I yanked it all the way up to my neck. As I snapped the neck piece over the zipper, I looked Johnny in the eyes and said, “No, but Hannah could dress me.”

Johnny lunged for me, face twisted in rage. His two goons grabbed him by the arms to hold him back. “Save it for the chamber, Johnny,” one of them said.

He shook them off and pointed at me. “You’re dead, Slim. You don’t stand a chance.”

My hands balled into fists as he stalked out the door confidently. For once, I agreed with him.

“Hello and welcome to the Calif Quadrant 3, Division 1 Bin-son Boxing Tournament! Who’s ready to see some amazing Bin-son?” The crowd cheered in response to the announcer, a roar much louder than I’d expected. The benches were now full on every tier.

The announcer went on to explain the rules. Each fight would be made up of three one-minute bouts. In each bout, every clean hit or kick above the waist counted as a point. No hits to the back of the head. No using the ropes for leverage. If a single boxer won the first two bouts, the third one was waived.

Every boxer fought every other boxer in the first round. Those with the most wins were put into one bracket, while the others were put on a different bracket.  

“All you have to focus on right now is getting into the winners’ bracket,” Hannah told me.

“Trust yourself,” Noriyuki told me.

As nervous as I was, my first few fights went by quickly. On my seventh fight, I was finally up against one of Kive’s students. They called their team Bi-haeng Predators, or Flying Predators. In between my own fights, I’d watched a few of them. They were ruthless, especially Johnny and his goons. They attacked so aggressively, aiming mostly for the head, that one of Johnny’s opponents actually tapped out. In the first bout.

The moment we faced each other in the chamber and squared off, my mind went blank. And it turned out, when fighting someone aggressive and fast, muscle memory was not enough. Within the first thirty seconds, the Bi-haeng Predator got in three kicks and one hit. He moved with alarming speed.

Sore and disheartened after the first bout, I crouched down to get my water from Hannah. Noriyuki leaned forward. “Slim, he is fast but not precise. You only need to dodge. Don’t bother blocking unless you have to. Okay?”

I nodded, unable to talk through my attempts to gulp down more oxygen. Hannah took the water back and added, “You got this!”

We squared up again, and I bent my legs, ready to move in any direction. “Begin!” shouted the referee, and my opponent immediately launched at me. I stepped to the side and, as he followed through with the swing he’d already committed to, I threw a simple jab to his ribs. Using this method for the rest of the fight, I was able to win the next two bouts. Then the referee shouted the words I was beginning to love hearing: “Winner, Slim of Noriyuki Boxing!”

Somehow, with Hannah’s encouragement and Noriyuki’s instructing, I made it into the winners’ bracket. Because of the randomization of the winners’ bracket’s first round, I only had to win five more fights to make it to the finals, the first of which was against a Bi-haeng Predator. One of Johnny’s goons, whom I’d lost to in the first round. If I lost this, I was out of the competition.

As my opponent taunted me and the referee reminded us to keep the fight clean, the rest of the Bi-haeng Predators who weren’t fighting chanted, “Hit hard! Kick harder!”

Even though she gave me two thumbs up, Hannah’s expression wasn’t exactly encouraging. She bit her lip so hard I thought it might start bleeding. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, reminding myself to trust my body. To keep balanced. Another deep breath and I opened my eyes, ready to fight. I spent the first two bouts blocking and dodging his attacks, each hit leaving a bruise on my arms from the immense force he used. I kept trying to find an opening, but my opponent would close them fast.

The third bout was down to the last ten seconds with no points to either of us when I noticed my opponent winding up for a kick. Before he could even lift his leg, I darted forward and hit him square in the chest, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

“Winner, Slim of Noriyuki Boxing!”

Fight after fight, I won with patience and simple jabs at the right time. My lack of training offered one advantage—I only had a few moves in my arsenal, but I could do them almost perfectly. And with the muscle memory Noriyuki had forced into me, I blocked nearly every hit or kick thrown my way. Until it was time for the first semi-final.

Unlike other rounds, the semi-final fights happened one at a time in the center chamber. The first semi-final was between Johnny and a big, muscly fighter from Quadrant 1. I wasn’t sure who I would rather face if I made it to the finals.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t stay and watch. I was stuck in the medics’ compartment getting my ribs taped up. Because I didn’t have the luxury of health alterations, I was in a lot of pain, and Noriyuki had been worried my last opponent cracked one of my ribs. The others in the medics’ compartment mostly had serious injuries that simple health alterations couldn’t solve or mitigate.

I sucked in a breath as the medic pulled tape tight across my ribs. “Do you think I can make it to the finals?” I asked Noriyuki through gritted teeth.

Instead of giving me a vague answer, Noriyuki nodded. “Of course you can. Do you think you can make it to the finals?”

The person in between me and the finals was one of Johnny’s goons, but I still found myself saying, “Yeah.” I hadn’t even believed I would win any fights, let alone make it to the semi-finals of the winners’ bracket. If I could do all that, why not make it to the finals?

Noriyuki helped me zip up my suit again and fastened the neckpiece. “Good.”

The medic gave me the okay to leave after giving me a Pain-Gone injection that probably wouldn’t do much. Hannah greeted us at the entrance back into the arena. “Johnny won,” she told us, taking my hand. She squeezed it so tightly I found myself grateful for the Pain-Gone injection. Two seconds later, the big Quadrant 1 fighter was escorted into the medics’ compartment, held up by two of his teammates and heavily favoring one leg. My hand squeezed back.

“He’ll do anything to win,” Hannah explained. Johnny had gotten a penalty for a hit below the waist, but it was only his first penalty, so he hadn’t been disqualified. There were three grounds for immediate disqualification: a hit to the back of your opponent’s head, three penalties, and medics’ orders not to continue.

I turned my panicked eyes to Noriyuki. If Johnny still had two more penalties before disqualification, he would probably use one on me. “Remember, focus only on the fight you’re fighting and doing your best.”

“Okay,” I breathed, trying my best to calm down as we walked to the center chamber. On the way, we had to pass the Bi-haeng Predators who were cheering for Johnny and hyping up my next opponent with their aggressive battle cry. Even grinning from his success, Johnny’s eyes zeroed in on my hand in Hannah’s. I tightened my grip even though I wanted to let go. Johnny didn’t need any reasons to fight me harder.

Before I entered the chamber, Noriyuki patted my shoulder and Hannah gave me a quick hug. With the referee between us and the announcer telling the crowd who we were, Johnny’s goon and I squared up. Suddenly, the crowd hushed, and it was only the Predators’ chanting and my heart pounding in my ears.

“Begin!”

My opponent immediately launched a volley of attacks, forcing me back and back until I hit the ropes and the referee pressed his buzzer. “Let’s stay off the ropes, okay? This is your warning,” the referee told me. I nodded, shaken by the buzzer and reprimand. Kive was whispering something to Johnny’s goon, who was glancing between me and Kive with a worried expression.

The referee called my opponent back to the center. “Begin!”

My opponent hesitated, glancing over at Kive again, and I took the chance to strike. I turned to the side to wind up for a kick. Then the Predator’s foot swung high and struck my head so hard that I dropped to the ground and passed out. When I grabbed ahold of consciousness a few seconds later, I was splayed out on the chamber floor. My head felt… mushy. A loud ringing plagued my ears. I couldn’t feel one of my arms, but the other was in excruciating pain as it was pinned underneath me at an odd angle.

A medic rushed over and turned me onto my back, looking at my eyes and shaking their head worriedly. They asked me my name and if I knew where I was, but their words sounded warbled underneath the ringing. My words came out slurred and slow.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Johnny’s goon was shouting as he looked on with tears in his eyes.

Back in the medics’ quarters, the medics were wrapping my arm in a stiff material up to my elbow. Though they were fairly certain the arm was broken, the arena’s medics were not authorized to give any more invasive healthcare outside of the proper facilities. The wrapping would keep the bones in place temporarily. My other arm was now tingling, no longer numb but still useless.

“I let you down,” I croaked through tears.

Noriyuki shook his head. I’d never seen him without an aura of calm about him. He was worried. “No, you made it all this way, and you did it fairly.”

“But I lost.” I lay there on the examination table in the worst pain of my life, still coming out of the fog, when I heard something I thought I’d hallucinated.

“Let me in! I’m their mother! Please, let me in.” My mother appeared by my side, her hand covering her mouth. “Oh my stars. What did he do to you? Your pupils are huge.”

The medic helped me sit up slowly. The injections of a heavier Pain-Gone dose helped with some of the pain, but did nothing for the confusion and sluggishness. “I’m okay, Ma,” I assured her.

The medic turned around from where they were sanitizing their hands. “Actually, they’ve got a pretty serious concussion. I would recommend that you not fight.”

“A head injury? Oh my stars,” my mom repeated. She gently brushed my hair with her hand.

I ignored her and addressed my instructor, too out of it to process that my mom had found out where I was going and hadn’t stopped me from fighting and was now in the same room as me. “I don’t want to give up,” I told him.

In his usual stern tone, Noriyuki said, “This is not giving up. Good fighters know when to stop.”

“I didn’t beat them. I didn’t beat Johnny.” My voice wavered, this time from emotion rather than brain fog.

“Doesn’t matter. You gained their respect. You don’t have to fight anymore.”

The medic took my now wrapped up arm and placed it in a sling. Catching the medic off guard by meeting their eyes, I asked, “Are you forcing me not to fight?”

The medic stepped back, looking between me, my instructor, and my mother. “Head injuries are no joke.” I continued to stare at them, which was hard to do without squinting in the harsh light. “And you have no health alterations to alleviate symptoms,” the medic said slowly.

They weren’t directly saying no. I took the hint and asked Noriyuki, “Do you still think I could win?”

“Are seriously thinking about fighting?” my mother interjected. “No way. We’re going straight to the medical facilities.”

Noriyuki nodded once at me. That was all I needed.

My mom eventually left the medics’ compartment, arguing with me the entire time but giving me the space anyway. She probably assumed the medic would give me a direct answer.

Before heading back out there, Noriyuki double-checked that this was really what I wanted, that it was worth it to me.

“I just… I don’t think I’ll feel balanced if I don’t at least try,” I admitted. It wasn’t for pride or Hannah or revenge. It wasn’t for others’ respect. I needed my own respect, and this was the only way to get it. “You said balance is easier with help. Will you help me?”

Moments later, I walked out of the medics’ compartment on my own two feet, though leaning heavily on Noriyuki. Hannah ran up to the announcer, who was about to begin the awards ceremony. Johnny stood beside him, arms clasped behind his back, a stoic look on his face. It wasn’t the smug grin I’d expected. He watched as Hannah whispered in the announcer’s ear, and, in shock, the announcer said into the amplifier, “He’s going to fight? Slim of Noriyuki Boxing is going to fight! This what Bin-son is all about, my friends. Give a big hand to our finalists!”

I raised my tingling arm as high as I could and waved to the crowd as Noriyuki led me up to the center chamber. I let go of him, finding my literal balance before entering the chamber. I had to duck under the ropes because I didn’t have the strength to move them, and the sudden lowering of my head nearly made me fall. My feet somehow got me to the center line. The only thing going through my brain was that I just had to last one minute.

The referee reminded us of the tournament’s rules, and Johnny squared up. My only hope was to avoid him as much as possible. I raised my tingling arm weakly, my hand loosely tightening into a fist.

“Begin!”

Johnny launched an unending volley of punches, not bothering to try a kick. He knew I was fast, and he had adjusted his technique to fit the circumstances. He wasn’t being very precise. His strategy seemed to be to tire me out until he could get an easy hit. And it was working. Dodging and ducking and blocking with my one arm left me dizzier than ever. It was only a matter of time before I made a mistake. Johnny got in a hit to my numb arm’s shoulder, sending pins and needles throughout the entire half of my body. This left him enough room to also get in a hit to my ribs. I was bent double when the referee announced the end of the bout. I limped over to Noriyuki and sat down as he poured water in my mouth.

“Remember all those hours of fixing the computer?” Noriyuki asked. I nodded and swallowed. “Your mind knows how to work when you are tired. Trust it. When your body feels like failing, turn to your mind.”

I nodded again, pushing myself slowly to my feet. Every little movement introduced a fresh agony. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and shoved all of the aches and pains aside. My head hurt, my mind was foggy, and my arms were nearly useless. But not completely. I squared up as best as I could.

“Begin!”

The moment the referee finished the word “begin,” my leg was in the air and striking Johnny’s stomach. Even though I lost my footing and fell over, it was still a point. Johnny didn’t wait for me to get up again before sending his fist my way. What he didn’t know was that, thanks to him, I was used to falling down and getting back up. He was still aiming low by the time I was on my feet, leaving his face unguarded. I threw a wimpy punch with my tingling arm and connected with his nose. Again, pins and needles shot up my arm, preventing me from taking advantage of Johnny’s own loss of balance. Shortly after this hit, the referee ended the bout.

I sat down right where I was to preserve my energy and shaky sense of balance. We were tied. I was almost there. Just one more minute, one more hit, and I could rest.

The referee called us back to the center line. I took my time standing up, and when I met Johnny’s eyes, I was surprised at what I saw. Uncertainty. I heard Kive’s voice boom, “Don’t let the enemy rebound!” Johnny’s eyes hardened. “Hit hard! Kick harder!” the Bi-haeng Predators shouted. Johnny lifted his fists.

“Begin!”

Johnny mimicked my tactic from the previous bout and jumped into action immediately. But he wasn’t throwing a punch or winding up for a kick. He reached out and grabbed my injured arm, twisting it so hard that the tough material gave way and I felt the bone snap. I cried out and toppled over Johnny’s outstretched leg. My head struck the ground again. The crowd let out a collective gasp, and the referee pressed the buzzer. I curled into a ball, eyes squeezed tight, as the announcer called out Johnny’s second penalty for a kick below the waist.  

“Hey, kid, are you alright?” The referee knelt next to me. “Are you gonna keep going?”

Without moving, I nodded that I would keep going, and he gave me a thirty-second warning as the rules obliged him to do.  

When I opened my eyes again, the world moved in waves. I felt like I was on a surfboard, barely able to stay upright once I finally got up in the first place. I stood as far from the center line as I could without breaking the rules and closed my eyes to picture the move I planned to make. I imagined it from start to end. I imagined succeeding.

“Begin!”

With my injured arm tucked tightly against my chest, I put as much distance between us as possible. With a short running start, I launched into the air, swinging my tingling arm enough to rotate my body. Johnny froze in shock as I flew, trusting my mind to find the correct angles and timing. By the time I kicked backward, I was at the perfect spot to hit Johnny square in the chin. I over-rotated and stumbled upon landing, but stayed on my feet. I breathed hard, the arena swimming before my eyes.

Even though Kive was shouting commands, Johnny just stood and stared at me, hand pressed to the deep gash in his lip, until the referee shouted, “Finish!”

As Johnny got chewed out by his instructor, the referee enthusiastically raised my tingly arm. The announcer shouted, “The winner of this year’s Calif Quadrant 3 Division 1 Bin-son Boxing Tournament is Slim of Noriyuki Boxing!”

Hannah, Noriyuki, and my mom rushed into the center chamber, screaming in joy. Hannah jumped up and down. Noriyuki offered a thumbs up. Even my mom was smiling.

Elation and exhaustion vied for my attention. My mouth formed a grin, but when the referee let go of my arm, I nearly collapsed. Luckily, I had three people around to hold me steady.  

THE END.

-Ryn PB

*This story is a retelling of The Karate Kid (1984).*

Note: I decided to keep the name Johnny from the original film because I love the name. I think it fits the character so well.