“Switch partners,” Sensei Melissa said. “Work with someone you haven’t worked with tonight.”
It was inevitable that Jaime would have to work with Steve. They hadn’t worked together since their last grading. Neither looked happy about the situation.
“Hajime.” Sensei Melissa gave the command to start.
Tyler had his hands full with Sarah. Every class she seemed to get a little faster, and her skill level was worthy of testing for black belt. It was only a matter of time before Sensei Melissa called the testing panel. Tyler was glad to see how far she had progressed since she’d wandered into the dojo as part of a trio of giggling coeds. They had seen a Kung-Fu movie marathon and didn’t know the difference between karate and Kung-Fu. Four years later, she was the only one of her friends who was still training.
“Yame!” Sensei Melissa shouted, and everyone stopped. The alarm in her voice got Tyler’s attention. The only time she stopped the class so abruptly was when someone was doing something dangerous.
The whole class remained frozen in place. Tyler’s eyes scanned the class looking for injuries. When he came to the space Steve and Jaime were using, he saw Jaime on the ground holding his nose. Blood spilled over his hand. Steve took a step back, keeping his hands up.
“He walked into it.”
“Tyler, take care of Jaime,” Sensei Melissa said, but Tyler was already in motion. “Everyone else line up.”
Hauling Jaime to his feet by his arm, Tyler guided him to the bathroom.
“Here.” Tyler handed Jaime paper towels as he got a cold pack out of the first aid kit. “How is the pain on a scale of one to ten? Keep a steady pressure on the bridge of your nose.”
“I’m okay, Sempai,” Jaime’s nasally voice answered as he kept his head down. “I should have blocked.”
Tyler frowned. “It was a drill. He shouldn’t have hit you.”
“It wasn’t Steve’s fault.” Jaime seemed to be avoiding direct eye contact with Tyler. “I walked into it like he said.”
His words did nothing to allay Tyler’s concern. Besides the fact that Steve had never liked Jaime, he was the higher rank and should have shown more control.
“You can tell me if it wasn’t an accident.”
Jaime looked at Tyler with an unsure expression but said nothing. Tyler doubted Jaime would complain about Steve, especially if he did feel like Steve had hit him on purpose. No student should ever feel singled out. The dojo was supposed to be a safe place. Tyler wanted to go upstairs and make sure Steve understood that, even if he had to beat the concept into the guy. The only thing that stopped him was not wanting anyone to think he was looking out for Jaime any differently than the other students. Sometimes the guys got rough with each other. Usually it resulted in a strengthening of their bond as students. Tyler doubted there was any kind of bonding between Jaime and Steve. He was torn between the desire to protect Jaime and to appear neutral. Would the other students think there was something going on between Jaime and him if he made an example of Steve?
Soon students were filing by the washroom on the way to the changing room. The bleeding had subsided and it didn’t seem like anything was broken. Tyler handed Jaime a fresh wet paper towel to clean up.
“Jaime, how are you doing?” Sensei Melissa asked as she stood in the doorway.
With a small smile, Jaime nodded. “I should have blocked.”
Sensei Melissa put her hand on Jaime’s shoulder and gave him an encouraging smile.
“Good plan.”
Despite her casual tone, Tyler saw the concern in her eyes. He could still hear Randy counting on the dojo floor and knew Steve had received his reprimand in the form of push-ups.
“Keep up the good work.” Sensei Melissa always had a way of saying the right thing to inspire a student to be better than even they thought they could be. “The extra training is really paying off. Sometimes getting hit provides a valuable lesson.”
“Hai, Sensei,” Jaime said with a broad smile.
“Sayonara.”
“Sayonara, Sensei.” Jaime and Tyler spoke in unison.
Alone again with Jaime, Tyler couldn’t help but examine Jaime’s swollen and reddened nose. Blood streaked down the front of his white gi. His eyes were focused on the floor. Jaime’s defeated posture had Tyler more concerned than ever about Jaime’s altercation with Steve.
“Jaime,” Tyler resisted the urge to lift his chin so that he could see Jaime’s eyes. “Was it really an accident?”
Before Jaime could answer, Steve stomped by the washroom and into the changing room. A series of mumbled curses were punctuated by a slamming locker door.
“You are going to want to get that in the wash tonight,” Randy said as he settled against the doorframe of the washroom.
Jaime’s eyes lifted from the floor, only to settle on the bloodstained gi front.
More stomping announced Steve’s exit from the changing room. He looked ready to punch the nearest available target. Tyler wasn’t about to let that be Jaime, again. Before Steve could charge by the washroom, Randy stepped in his path.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Randy asked.
Steve shot Randy a look that barely concealed his fury under a mask of civility. He might be a hot head, but Steve wasn’t about to mouth off to a black belt. Not if he wanted to keep training in the dojo. Swallowing whatever vile thoughts raced through his brain, Steve turned to Jaime.
“I’m sorry for my lack of control.” Steve looked like he was practically biting his tongue off in the effort to keep it in check.
“It’s okay,” Jaime mumbled.
Steve gave a shallow bow then eyed Randy, waiting for his permission to leave.
“See you next class.” Randy’s smile was genuine because Steve had done what was right. “Control comes with practice. Being a brown
