Then another message arrived.
Kidding. Congratulations, Coach.
He smiled.
The word Coach felt strange.
Good strange.
Months earlier, Marcus would have loved the title because of what it suggested about rank.
Now it made him nervous because of what it suggested about responsibility.
He finally understood why Daniel rarely used authority casually.
People listened to coaches.
That meant coaches had to be careful what they taught when they weren't speaking.
By late summer, Emily prepared to leave Millbrook.
Her father's recovery was complete.
Her graduate program required her to relocate to Oregon for several months of clinical work.
The news spread through the academy.
Rachel organized a small dinner.
Danny looked genuinely upset.
Marcus pretended not to be.
Her final Wednesday class arrived almost exactly ten months after the first.
Daniel taught technique.
Everyone trained.
Then he called for the final round.
"Five minutes."
Marcus looked at Emily.
She looked at him.
Neither said anything.
They walked toward each other.
Students noticed.
A few moved closer.
Rachel sat near the wall.
Jake whispered, "Rematch."
Marcus heard him.
"Ten-month rematch."
Emily smiled.
"You've been counting?"
"Apparently, I still count some things."
They touched hands.
This round was nothing like the first.
Marcus didn't underestimate her.
Emily didn't need to surprise him.
They both knew exactly what the other could do.
The pace began slowly.
Marcus passed left.
Emily recovered.
She tried to sweep.
He based out.
Marcus attacked an arm.
Emily escaped.
She moved behind him.
He turned before she secured position.
For two minutes, neither controlled the round for long.
People watched quietly.
Marcus smiled.
Not because he was winning.
Because the round was good.
Emily smiled too.
Three minutes.
Emily nearly swept him.
Marcus recovered.
He passed.
She framed.
He adjusted.
She turned.
Marcus took her back.
For the first time in all their rounds, he secured both hooks cleanly.
Emily defended her neck.
Marcus controlled one arm.
The position was strong.
Very strong.
Emily stayed calm.
Marcus attacked.
She escaped once.
He attacked again.
She defended.
Twenty seconds remained.
Marcus changed grips.
Emily saw the opening.
She turned.
Marcus lost one hook.
Ten seconds.
Emily escaped the position.
Marcus tried to follow.
Five seconds.
Emily swept him.
Marcus landed on his back.
Timer.
The room laughed.
Marcus looked at the ceiling.
"You couldn't let me have one?"
Emily stood.
"You almost had one."
Marcus took her hand.
She pulled him up.
They hugged.
Everyone applauded.
It wasn't loud because someone had won.
It was loud because everyone knew the story behind the round.
Daniel walked over carrying something.
A belt.
Brown.
Emily looked at him.
"No."
Daniel smiled.
"Your purple belt is falling apart."
"It has character."
"It smells terrible."
Everyone laughed.
Daniel handed her the brown belt.
"Your father said I'm allowed to confiscate the old one."
Emily stared at him.
"He did not."
A voice came from the doorway.
"I absolutely did."
Thomas stood there.
Emily turned.
"Dad!"
Thomas raised both hands.
"I'm tired of seeing that purple belt."
"You gave me that belt."
"Six years ago."
Emily shook her head.
Daniel held out the brown belt.
"Put on the correct one."
Emily smiled.
Then she removed the faded purple belt and wrapped the brown one around her waist.
Marcus watched.
It seemed strange that the belt mattered so little and yet meant so much.
Not because it proved how dangerous Emily was.
Because it represented years no one could see.
Thousands of quiet hours.
Losses.
Injuries.
Repetition.
Frustration.
Growth.
Work performed without an audience.
Marcus thought back to that first night.
He remembered seeing a tiny stranger standing alone.
He remembered thinking he understood everything important about her in three seconds.
He had been wrong.
Completely wrong.
But Thomas had been right.
Being wrong wasn't the real problem.
What mattered was what you did after discovering it.
After class, everyone went to a small restaurant downtown.
People told stories.
Rachel cried.
Danny pretended he wasn't crying.
Emily promised to visit.
Marcus waited until they were outside before saying goodbye.
It was late.
The street was quiet.
Emily stood beside her car.
Marcus handed her something.
Her old purple belt.
She stared.
"I thought Daniel confiscated this."
"I stole it from his office."
Emily laughed.
"You committed a crime?"
"For sentimental reasons."
She took the belt.
"Thanks."
Marcus leaned against the car.
"You know, I hated you that first night."
Emily smiled.
"For how long?"
"Maybe fifteen minutes."
"That's fair."
"No, it isn't."
She waited.
Marcus looked toward the restaurant window where several teammates were still talking.
"You changed a lot for me."
Emily shook her head.
"No."
Marcus looked at her.
"You did."
"I gave you one bad round."
"Very bad round."
"For you."
"Exactly."
Emily folded the belt carefully.
"You changed because you wanted to change."
Marcus considered that.
"Maybe."
"Definitely."
He nodded.
"Still. Thank you."
Emily smiled.
"You're welcome."
She opened the car door.
Marcus stepped back.
"Emily?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time you're in town, I'm tapping you."
Emily looked at him.
"Marcus?"
"Yeah?"
"You're still using too much strength."
He stared at her.
Then she laughed.
Marcus laughed too.
She got into the car and drove away.
A year passed.
Then another.