"Yeah, walk away! If you pull him out whenever training becomes difficult,

you’re just teaching him to be a quitter!" Mason yelled to their backs. "That's why

kids these days are soft. Because fathers like you coddle them!"

Ethan stopped.

He gently guided Noah to sit on the bench next to the cubbies. "Put your shoes

on, Noah. I'll be right back."

E

Chapter 6: One Punch

than turned around. He walked back toward the edge of the mat, stopping

just before the green foam. His posture was relaxed, hands loose at his sides.

He looked at Mason not with anger, but with a cold, clinical assessment.

"My son is not a quitter," Ethan said quietly, though his voice carried across the

silent room. "He is twelve. He is learning. You, however, are a bully posing as a

teacher."

Mason laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. He stepped off the mat, closing the

distance until he was inches from Ethan's face, trying to use his height and bulk to

intimidate the smaller man.

"You got a problem with me, old man? You want to step on the mat and show

me how tough you are?" Mason sneered, dropping his hands, confident he was

facing a soft suburban dad.

Ethan didn't blink. He didn't shift his weight. He merely analyzed the distance,

the angle, the arrogant jut of Mason's jaw.

"I don't need to step on a mat to handle a problem," Ethan said evenly.

"Then what are you going to do?" Mason challenged, thrusting his chin forward

aggressively, entering Ethan's personal space.

It happened faster than anyone in the room could process.

Ethan didn't wind up. He didn't telegraph the movement with his shoulders or

eyes. The kinetic energy started in his scuffed work boot, traveled through his hip,

Ethan nodded, his hands relaxed on the wheel. He wasn't a warrior anymore,

and he didn't want his son to be one either. But he was a father, and sometimes, that

required being exactly what was needed in the moment.

***

The end.