“You understand fighting?”
Ursula looked toward the cage.
“I understand enough.”
The teenagers laughed again.
Tyler's jaw tightened.
“You think you understand enough to judge me?”
“No.”
She picked up her bucket.
“I don't judge people.”
“Good.”
Tyler stepped closer.
“Because you wouldn't know what you're looking at.”
Ursula said nothing.
Tyler looked around.
He could feel the audience returning to him.
The attention was coming back.
That was what he wanted.
“Come on,” he said. “I'll show you.”
Ursula frowned.
“Show me what?”
“How fighting works.”
“I have work to do.”
“Five minutes.”
“No.”
Tyler laughed.
“Scared?”
Ursula looked at him.
Then at the crowd.
Then at the clock.
“No.”
“Then fight me.”
A murmur traveled through the gym.
Ursula shook her head.
“You don't want to do that.”
Tyler smiled.
“You're right.”
He pointed toward the bucket.
“I don't want to fight someone carrying a mop.”
The crowd laughed.
Nathan Cross closed his notebook.
He stood.
“Tyler.”
Tyler turned.
Nathan rarely interrupted demonstrations.
“What?”
Nathan looked at Ursula.
Then back at Tyler.
“Leave her alone.”
Tyler's expression changed.
“Why?”
“Because she's not part of your show.”
Ursula glanced at Nathan.
Their eyes met.
For a fraction of a second, Nathan thought he saw recognition.
Not of him.
Of something else.
Then Ursula looked away.
“I'm going home.”
She lifted the bucket.
Tyler stepped in front of her.
“Wait.”
She stopped.
“Just one round.”
“No.”
“Three minutes.”
“No.”
“Thirty seconds.”
“No.”
The word was quiet.
But absolute.
Tyler smiled.
“All right.”
He stepped aside.
“Maybe next time.”
Ursula walked past him.
Nobody noticed the way Nathan watched her leave.
Nobody noticed the faint scar across her right knuckle.
Nobody noticed that when she opened the back door, she paused for half a second and looked back toward the cage.
Nobody noticed the sadness in her eyes.
Except Nathan.
And he wondered why.
The Dare
The next morning, Tyler posted a video.
It showed him standing in the academy with his arms crossed.
Behind him was the cage.
The caption read:
“Some people talk like fighters. Others actually fight. Know the difference.”
By noon, the video had thousands of views.
By evening, someone had tagged Ursula.
She didn't respond.
She didn't even have social media.
Tyler interpreted her silence as fear.
On Monday morning, Ursula arrived at 5:30.
She unlocked the side door.
Turned on the lights.
Started cleaning.
At 6:10, Tyler arrived.
He was already wearing training clothes.
“Morning, mop girl.”
Ursula kept working.
“Did you see my video?”
“No.”
“You're in it.”
She continued wiping the mirrors.
“Then you should have asked before recording me.”
Tyler laughed.
“Relax.”
“I am relaxed.”
He walked closer.
“I was thinking about Friday.”
“So was I.”
“You should fight me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't want to.”
Tyler shook his head.
“You know, most people would kill for an opportunity like that.”
Ursula stopped cleaning.
“I'm not most people.”
Tyler laughed.
“What are you, then?”
Ursula resumed working.
“Someone who has to finish cleaning before six.”
Tyler stared at her.
He wasn't used to being ignored.
For the next several days, he kept trying.
He challenged her in front of students.
Made jokes.
Left dirty towels on the floor.
Put his shoes deliberately on freshly cleaned mats.
Each time Ursula simply cleaned around him.
The more she refused to react, the more obsessed he became.
Then Friday came.
Summit Edge held another exhibition.
This time, Tyler had planned something.
After demonstrating several combinations, he walked toward the side of the mat.
“Everybody knows Ursula, right?”
Some people laughed.
Ursula was cleaning near the wall.
She looked up.
Tyler smiled.
“Come on.”
“No.”
The crowd laughed.
Tyler turned to the audience.
“She says no a lot.”
A few students chuckled.
Ursula went back to cleaning.
Tyler shook his head.
“You know what? Fine.”
He walked toward her.
“I'll make it easy.”
He removed his gloves.
“Thirty seconds.”
Ursula stood.
“No.”
“Twenty seconds.”
“No.”
“Ten.”
“No.”
“Five.”
“No.”
Tyler's smile hardened.
“What are you afraid of?”
Ursula looked directly at him.
“Hurting you.”
The laughter stopped.
Tyler blinked.
Then the gym exploded.
People shouted.
Someone whistled.
Tyler's face reddened.
“You think you can hurt me?”
“Yes.”
The answer was immediate.
Tyler stepped onto the mat.
“Then prove it.”
Ursula shook her head.
“Tyler.”
Nathan Cross had stood again.
“Don't.”
Tyler ignored him.
“I'm not trying to hurt her.”
Nathan's voice became colder.
“You don't know what you're doing.”
Tyler laughed.
“She's a janitor.”
Nathan stared at him.
“No.”
He glanced at Ursula.
“She cleans this building.”
Tyler shrugged.
“Same thing.”
Nathan's eyes hardened.
“That's not the same thing.”
But Ursula raised one hand.
“It's okay.”
Nathan frowned.
“Ursula—”
“It's okay.”
She looked at Tyler.
“One minute.”
Tyler smiled.
“Deal.”
She stepped onto the mat.
The audience leaned forward.
Someone handed Ursula a pair of borrowed gloves.
She looked at them.
Then shook her head.
“I don't need those.”
Tyler laughed.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
The referee, one of the academy's instructors, looked uncomfortable.
“Rules?”
Ursula said, “No head shots.”
Tyler grinned.
“Afraid of getting hit?”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“I just don't want you injured.”
That sentence would become one of the most repeated lines in Summit Edge history.
At the time, Tyler thought it was an insult.