"Owen."
Owen turned.
"Yeah?"
"You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Giving away the center."
Owen frowned.
"I thought I was maintaining distance."
"You are. But you're doing it the same way every time."
Marcus stepped onto the mat.
"Watch."
He demonstrated the movement.
"When someone pressures you, you don't have to move directly backward. You can angle out. You can pivot. You can make the other person adjust."
Owen tried again.
This time, he stepped to the side.
Marcus nodded.
"Better."
From the equipment area, Arthur watched.
He had stopped wiping a rack.
Marcus noticed him.
"Arthur."
Arthur looked up.
"Yes?"
"Come here for a second."
Arthur glanced at the cleaning cart.
"Why?"
"I want your opinion."
Several members looked toward them.
Arthur did not move.
Marcus stepped closer.
"Just one question."
Arthur sighed quietly and approached the edge of the mat.
Marcus pointed toward Owen.
"What do you see?"
Arthur studied the young fighter.
Owen stood in a relaxed stance, waiting.
Arthur looked at his feet.
Then his shoulders.
Then the distance between his lead foot and his partner.
"He understands the movement," Arthur said.
Marcus nodded.
"But?"
"He doesn't trust it yet."
Owen blinked.
"What does that mean?"
Arthur pointed toward the floor.
"Your feet are trying to move in two different directions. Your upper body wants to escape, but your weight hasn't decided where it belongs."
Owen looked down.
Arthur continued.
"You are thinking about where the opponent is. You're not thinking enough about where you will be after you move."
Marcus smiled.
"That's what I was trying to explain."
Arthur looked at him.
"Then explain it differently."
A few members chuckled.
Marcus raised his eyebrows.
"Fair enough."
Arthur turned toward Owen.
"Try something."
Owen nodded.
"Okay."
"Don't think about moving away from him. Think about keeping your balance while changing the angle."
Owen stepped into position.
Arthur demonstrated slowly.
His feet moved only a few inches.
But the movement was precise.
He shifted his weight, turned his hips, and placed himself just outside the line of pressure.
There was nothing dramatic about it.
No sudden speed.
No flourish.
Yet the change in position was immediate.
Owen blinked.
"That's it?"
Arthur nodded.
"That's it."
Owen tried.
His first attempt was awkward.
The second was better.
On the third, he moved smoothly.
Marcus watched closely.
"Again."
Owen repeated the movement.
"Good."
Arthur stepped back.
"Now do it when you're tired."
Owen smiled.
"That's the hard part."
"That's the part that matters."
Arthur returned to his cart.
The members resumed training.
But several of them continued looking toward the maintenance worker.
Blake had watched the entire exchange.
He stood near the boxing area, arms crossed.
When Marcus approached him, Blake shook his head.
"Are we really taking technique advice from the cleaning staff now?"
Marcus stopped.
"He's helping Owen."
"He's not a coach."
"No. But he knows what he's talking about."
Blake laughed.
"How do you know?"
Marcus held his gaze.
"Because I watched him move."
"That doesn't make him qualified."
Marcus did not argue.
"Then focus on your own training."
Blake turned away.
But his attention remained on Arthur.
That afternoon, Victoria Shaw called Marcus into her office.
She stood near the window overlooking the main floor.
A folder rested on her desk.
"Grant Harrington called."
Marcus sighed.
"What does he want?"
"He wants Blake moved into the advanced striking group."
Marcus shook his head.
"He's not ready."
"I know."
"He still loses his stance when he gets pressured."
"I know that too."
"He doesn't listen when I correct him."
Victoria looked at him.
"Marcus, I need you to understand the position we're in."
"I understand the position. I don't agree with it."
"Grant has invested a considerable amount of money in this academy."
"That doesn't make his son a better fighter."
Victoria closed her eyes briefly.
"Please don't make this more difficult than it already is."
Marcus leaned forward.
"What happens if Blake gets hurt because we put him in a group he's not ready for?"
"Then we deal with it."
"No. We prevent it."
Victoria looked away.
The answer had made her uncomfortable because it was correct.
Marcus continued.
"I'm not trying to punish Blake. I want him to improve. But if we keep giving him privileges he hasn't earned, he'll never learn what the other fighters have to learn."
Victoria sat down.
"Grant believes his son is being held back."
"His son is holding himself back."
The office fell silent.
Victoria looked through the glass toward the training floor.
Arthur was replacing a worn section of mat tape.
He worked slowly, pressing the edges down so they would not lift under someone's foot.
"Do you know something?" she said.
Marcus followed her gaze.
"What?"