Walter's expression remained calm.
"No."
"Then why are you acting like this?"
"Because you asked me to step onto the mat."
Adrian clenched his fists.
"I'll give you one last chance."
Walter smiled.
"That's not your decision."
The head director, Margaret Ellis, finally stepped forward.
"Adrian."
He turned.
"This is enough."
"But—"
"Enough."
Adrian reluctantly stepped back.
The demonstration ended.
People began leaving.
But the atmosphere had changed.
Nobody was laughing anymore.
Several students approached Walter.
"Mr. Hayes?"
Walter looked at them.
"Yes?"
"Where did you learn to fight?"
Walter smiled.
"A long time ago."
"Are you really a black belt?"
Walter nodded.
"What rank?"
Walter hesitated.
"Sixth degree."
The students stared.
One of them nearly dropped his phone.
"Sixth degree?"
Walter nodded.
Adrian heard it.
He froze.
Sixth degree.
Adrian was a second-degree black belt.
He had spent years talking about his achievements.
Walter had spent decades hiding his.
That evening, Adrian stayed late.
He sat alone on the edge of the mat.
Walter was mopping the floor.
Adrian watched him.
Finally he spoke.
"Why didn't you tell anyone?"
Walter continued mopping.
"Tell them what?"
"That you're a martial artist."
Walter shrugged.
"It never came up."
"You work here."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Walter stopped.
"Because they needed someone."
"You're qualified to teach."
"I used to."
"What happened?"
Walter leaned against the mop.
"My wife died."
Adrian looked down.
"I'm sorry."
"Thank you."
"How long ago?"
"Eleven years."
"And you just stopped?"
Walter nodded.
"Why?"
"Because everything I cared about felt connected to her."
Adrian didn't know how to respond.
Walter continued.
"She came to every tournament. Every promotion. Every competition."
He smiled faintly.
"She hated watching me fight."
"Then why did she come?"
"Because she loved me."
Adrian smiled.
Walter returned to mopping.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Adrian asked:
"Why didn't you hit me?"
Walter looked at him.
"I could have."
"I know."
"You were angry."
"So?"
"Angry people make mistakes."
Adrian frowned.
"What does that have to do with you?"
"Everything."
Walter placed the mop against the wall.
"You wanted to prove something."
"Yes."
"To me?"
Adrian thought.
"No."
"To everyone else?"
"Maybe."
Walter nodded.
"That's dangerous."
Adrian looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because when you fight for applause, you stop listening to your opponent."
The words stayed with Adrian.
The next morning, Adrian arrived early.
Walter was already there.
Sweeping the hallway.
"Teach me."
Walter looked up.
"What?"
"Teach me."
"No."
Adrian looked surprised.
"Why?"
"Because you don't want to learn."
"I do."
"You want to beat me."
Adrian didn't answer.
Walter smiled.
"Exactly."
He continued sweeping.
Adrian stood there.
"I'll come every morning."
"Don't."
"I will."
"Then you'll waste your mornings."
Adrian returned the next day.
Walter ignored him.
The day after that, Adrian came again.
On the fourth day, Walter finally handed him a broom.
"Clean the hallway."
Adrian stared at it.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"I came to train."
"This is training."