Angela smiled.
"Because you made the mistake before."
He laughed.
Across the room, Derek watched.
Later, during a water break, he approached her.
"You teach?"
"Sometimes."
"Where?"
"Here and there."
"You always answer like that?"
"Usually."
Derek folded his arms.
"You know what people are saying?"
Angela took a sip of water.
"No."
"They think you used to compete."
"I did."
Derek's eyebrows rose.
"When?"
"A long time ago."
"What level?"
Angela looked at him.
"National."
The answer hit him harder than she intended.
"You competed nationally?"
"Yes."
"In what?"
"Judo first."
Derek stared.
"And?"
"Brazilian jiu-jitsu later."
"How long?"
Angela thought for a moment.
"Twenty years."
Derek looked toward Marcus.
Marcus had heard.
He walked over.
"Twenty years?"
Angela nodded.
"Twenty-three, actually."
Derek shook his head.
"Then why don't you have a belt?"
Angela smiled faintly.
"I used to."
"What happened?"
She became quiet.
For the first time since arriving, something changed in her face.
Not fear.
Not sadness exactly.
Memory.
"My husband died."
Derek said nothing.
Angela looked down at the floor.
"His name was Daniel."
Marcus stepped closer.
"I'm sorry."
Angela nodded.
"He trained with me."
"When did he die?"
"Eight years ago."
Nobody spoke.
Angela continued.
"After that, I stopped."
Derek's voice was quieter.
"You quit?"
"I didn't quit."
"What's the difference?"
"I stopped needing to prove anything."
Derek looked at her.
He didn't understand.
Angela continued.
"Daniel always told me that belts were useful. They showed progression. They helped instructors understand where someone belonged."
She touched the edge of her shirt.
"But he also said the belt was never the skill."
Derek glanced at his own black belt.
Angela noticed.
"I'm not saying your belt doesn't mean anything."
"Then what are you saying?"
"I'm saying it shouldn't mean everything."
Derek didn't respond.
That night, Angela stayed after everyone left.
She helped Marcus clean the mats.
"You don't have to do that," he said.
"I know."
"Why do you?"
Angela looked around the empty gym.
"Because someone has to."
Marcus smiled.
"You remind me of someone."
"Who?"
"My mother."
Angela laughed.
"Your mother trained?"
"No. But she always cleaned up after people who never noticed."
Angela nodded.
"Sounds familiar."
Marcus looked at her.
"What are you doing here, Angela?"
She paused.
"Trying to remember why I loved this."
"Training?"
"No."
She looked toward the empty mat.
"Helping people."
— Pride
The trouble began the following Saturday.
Iron Ridge was hosting an open training session.
There were about thirty people in the building.
Some were members.
Some were visitors.
Two local competitors had come to train.
Derek was in his element.
He moved from group to group, demonstrating techniques and telling stories about his fights.
Angela stayed near the edge of the room.
She wasn't seeking attention.
That seemed to irritate Derek more than anything.
During a demonstration, Marcus asked Derek to show a takedown.
Derek chose a visiting fighter.
The move worked perfectly.
Everyone applauded.
Derek smiled.
Then he looked toward Angela.
"You want to demonstrate the defense?"
Angela shook her head.
"No."
A few people laughed.
Derek's smile widened.
"Why not?"
"Because you were asked to demonstrate."
"Afraid?"
"No."
"Then come up."
Angela didn't move.
Derek walked closer.
"You don't have to be shy."
Angela looked at him.
"I'm not shy."
"Then prove it."
Marcus stepped between them.
"Derek."
But Derek had already gone too far.
He pointed toward the mat.
"One round."
Angela remained silent.
"Just one."
She looked around the room.
Everyone was watching.
She could see curiosity.
Excitement.
Some embarrassment.
And something else.
Expectation.
She hated expectation.
It was the reason she had stopped competing.