The girl smiled.
Naomi did too.
Then the timer sounded.
Students gathered along the wall.
Marcus walked toward Naomi.
"Want to stay for open mat?"
Before Naomi could answer, Brad said, "She was coaching from the sidelines."
Marcus glanced at him.
Naomi sighed.
"I suggested one adjustment."
Brad stood.
"To a blue belt."
"Yes."
"While wearing a white belt."
Naomi looked at her waist.
"There it is again."
Several students laughed.
Brad did not.
"What?"
"The belt."
"You think rank doesn't matter?"
"I think technique matters more."
The room became quieter.
Marcus stepped between the conversation.
"Brad."
"I'm just asking."
Naomi stood.
She was tired.
Not physically.
Tired in the way she had been tired for almost two years.
Tired of people needing everything explained.
Tired of names.
Titles.
Old footage.
Expectations.
She had come to Northline because she wanted a place to train anonymously.
Twenty minutes inside and anonymity had already become a problem.
Brad folded his arms.
"You've got all these opinions. Roll."
Naomi looked at him.
"No thanks."
Brad smiled.
"Thought so."
Devin laughed.
Caleb shook his head.
Naomi bent toward her gym bag.
She could leave.
Her father had told her before she came that she did not owe anyone proof of anything.
He was right.
Then Brad said something that made her stop.
"People watch competition videos online and think they understand jiu-jitsu."
Naomi slowly straightened.
"You think that's what I did?"
"I think beginners should stay in beginner class."
Naomi looked around.
Nearly thirty students were now watching.
Marcus started to speak.
Naomi raised one hand.
"It's okay."
Then she looked at Brad.
"Do you want to roll?"
Brad smiled.
"I thought you'd never ask."
Naomi glanced at Devin.
Then Caleb.
Both were grinning.
She pointed to all three.
"Actually, let's save time."
Brad frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"One minute."
Naomi stepped onto the center of the mat.
"Twenty seconds each."
Silence.
Devin laughed.
"You want three rounds?"
"Three short ones."
Caleb smiled.
"You think you're submitting black belts in twenty seconds?"
Naomi shook her head.
"No."
Brad smirked.
"Then what's the point?"
Naomi tightened the white belt around her waist.
"The point is to find out whether your belts can do what your mouths have been doing since I walked in."
The room exploded with noise.
Marcus Bell stared at her.
Not because of the challenge.
Because he had suddenly remembered something.
The voice.
The posture.
The surname Lauren had written on the waiver.
Naomi Carter.
Marcus turned toward the reception desk.
"Lauren."
She looked up.
"What?"
"What's her full name?"
Lauren checked the form.
"Naomi Elise Carter."
Marcus stopped moving.
Sixteen years disappeared.
A crowded tournament hall.
A championship final.
A twenty-three-year-old woman dismantling one opponent after another.
Marcus looked back toward Naomi.
She met his eyes.
And from the small smile on her face, he knew.
She knew he had finally recognized her.
Marcus crossed the mat quickly.
"Naomi."
Brad looked between them.
"You know her?"
Marcus ignored him.
"Can we talk?"
Naomi shook her head.
"After."
"Are you sure?"
"You were going to let me roll during open mat anyway."
"Not like this."
Naomi looked at the three black belts.
"Nobody needs to get hurt."
Brad laughed.
"That's generous."
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
"You should listen when someone tells you that."
The tone finally caught Brad's attention.
"What aren't you telling us?"
Naomi answered.
"Nothing that matters."
Marcus lowered his voice.
"You don't owe them a demonstration."
"I know."
"Then why?"
Naomi looked around the academy.
At the younger students.
At the teenager Caleb had dismissed.
At the white belts who had spent the previous hour watching senior students model what a black belt was supposed to mean.
"Because somebody should remind them what those belts are for."
Marcus understood.
He didn't like it.
But he understood.
"Technical rounds only."
"Agreed."
"No cranking submissions."
"Obviously."
Marcus stared at Brad, Devin, and Caleb.
"That applies to everyone."
Brad nodded impatiently.
"Fine."
Marcus set his phone timer.
"Twenty seconds each. First tap ends the round."
Brad stepped forward.
"Me first."
Naomi rolled her shoulders.
"Of course."
A few students moved closer.
Marcus pointed.
"Give them space."
Brad crouched.
Naomi sat to the mat.
Brad laughed.
"You're pulling guard?"
"I sat down."
"Same thing."
"Come find out."
Marcus sighed.
"Ready?"
Both nodded.
"Go."
Brad attacked immediately.
That was mistake number one.
He reached for Naomi's legs, trying to force past her guard before she could establish grips.
Naomi allowed him to grab her left knee.
Mistake number two.
Brad drove forward.
Naomi shifted her hips.
Her right leg threaded around his arm.
Her left hand captured his wrist.
Everything happened quietly.
No explosion.
No dramatic throw.
Brad's momentum simply stopped.
His expression changed.
He tried to pull his arm free.
Naomi rotated slightly.
Brad's elbow crossed the wrong line.
He tapped.
Three times.
Marcus stopped the timer.
Eleven seconds.
Nobody spoke.
Naomi released him immediately.
Brad sat back.
"What the hell?"
She stood.
"You committed your elbow before controlling my hips."
Brad stared.
Devin stepped forward.
"My turn."
Brad caught his arm.
"Wait."
Devin pulled away.
"You had yours."
This time Naomi remained standing.
Devin was almost seventy pounds heavier.
Former collegiate wrestler, Naomi guessed.
His stance confirmed it.
Marcus reset.
"Ready?"
Naomi nodded.
Devin smiled.
"Yep."
"Go."
Devin shot for her legs.
Unlike Brad, he kept his elbows tight.
Better.
His head position was strong.
Better.
He expected Naomi to sprawl.
She didn't.
She stepped aside, redirected his shoulder, and allowed his own forward pressure to carry him past her.
Devin recovered quickly.
Very quickly.
He turned.
Naomi was already behind him.
One hook.
Second hook.
Her arm crossed his neck.
Devin grabbed her wrist.
Naomi changed direction before the choke was even fully threatened.
His arm became trapped instead.
Devin tried to roll.
Naomi followed.
He tapped.
Marcus checked the timer.
Seventeen seconds.
The academy became completely silent.
Naomi released him.
Devin sat up slowly.
He was not angry.
He looked fascinated.
"Do that again."
Naomi smiled.
"Later."
"Seriously."
"Later."
Caleb was no longer smiling.
He looked toward Marcus.
"Who is she?"
Marcus folded his arms.
"Why don't you find out?"
Caleb walked toward the center.
Unlike Brad and Devin, he had learned from watching.
He did not attack immediately.
Naomi crouched.
Caleb circled.
Five seconds.
He stayed outside.
Naomi smiled.
"Clock's moving."
"I'm aware."
Ten seconds.
Caleb reached.
Naomi broke the grip.
He backed away.
A few students laughed.
Caleb's jaw tightened.
He attacked.
Naomi changed levels.
Caleb sprawled.
Exactly what she wanted.
She caught his arm as he drove down.
Turned.
Stepped through.
Caleb tried to rotate free.
Naomi's legs locked around his shoulder.
He froze.
Everyone in the room who understood the position knew what happened next.
Caleb tapped.
Marcus stopped the clock.
Nineteen seconds.
The entire sequence—three separate rounds—had taken forty-seven seconds of active time.
Three black belts.
Three taps.
Less than one minute.
For several seconds, nobody made a sound.
Then the teenage blue belt near the wall whispered:
"Whoa."
A purple belt burst out laughing.
That broke the silence.
Noise erupted.
Students started talking at once.
Brad stood red-faced.
"No. Hold on."