"I think you should decide what you want."
She looked at him.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only answer I can give you."
He smiled faintly.
"If you want to compete, I'll help you prepare. If you don't, I'll still help you train. If you want to coach, I'll support that. If you want to take a year away from the sport, I'll tell you to enjoy the year."
Nia laughed softly.
"You're making it sound very simple."
"It isn't simple. But it is yours."
She touched the metal plate again.
"For a long time, I thought this was the most important thing I had."
Samuel nodded.
"Most people would."
"I thought if I stopped competing, I would lose the person I had spent my whole life becoming."
He listened.
Nia continued.
"But I didn't disappear."
She looked toward the training room.
"I became someone else."
Samuel shook his head gently.
"Not someone else. Someone more."
Nia smiled.
"That's a coach's answer."
"It's an old coach's answer."
She looked at him.
"Do you ever regret the way things ended at Northstar?"
Samuel considered the question.
"Yes."
Nia looked surprised.
"Really?"
"Of course. I regret that Caleb was injured. I regret that you carried so much blame. I regret that the people around you didn't know how to help either of you properly at the time."
He paused.
"But I don't regret teaching you to recognize when a situation needs to stop."
Nia's expression softened.
Samuel continued.
"I wish I could have made you understand that sooner."
She looked at the belt.
"I think I needed time."
"Maybe."
He placed a hand on the case.
"You earned this. You don't have to hide it. But you don't have to let it define you either."
Nia closed the case carefully.
"Thank you."
Samuel nodded.
"You're welcome."
She looked at him.
"I don't know where I'm going to put it."
"That's all right."
"Victor will probably try to put it in the display."
Samuel laughed.
"Tell him no."
Nia smiled.
"I will."
She lifted the case.
For the first time in years, she did not feel the need to put it away as quickly as possible.
She simply carried it to the small office beside the training floor and placed it on a shelf.
Not hidden.
Not displayed.
Just there.
It belonged to her history.
It did not have to control her future.
A Different Kind of Beginner Class
At nine o'clock, the gym began filling with people.
Madison arrived first.
She carried a box of new hand wraps for the beginner class.
Brooke followed with a stack of printed grappling diagrams.
Tessa came in with a large bag of training equipment.
Daniel was already preparing the mats.
The first class began at nine-thirty.
It was a beginner session.
There were twelve participants.
Some were teenagers.
Others were adults.
One was a middle-aged man who had recently completed physical rehabilitation.
Another was a young woman who had never entered a combat-sports gym before.
There was also a boy named Ethan, who appeared to be about ten years old and had spent the first five minutes of the class staring at the cage.
Nia stood near the front.
"Good morning, everyone."
The group answered.
She smiled.
"Today we're going to work on balance and movement."
Ethan raised his hand.
"Are we going to fight?"
Nia laughed.
"Not today."
The boy looked disappointed.
She crouched slightly so she was closer to his eye level.
"First, we learn how to move safely. Then we learn how to control our balance. After that, we can learn how to work with a partner."
Ethan nodded.
"Okay."
Nia stood.
"Everyone find a space."
The class began.
She demonstrated a basic stance.
Then she showed how to move forward, backward, and sideways without crossing the feet.
The group tried.
Several participants moved too quickly.
One woman kept looking down at her shoes.
A teenager had difficulty maintaining his balance.
The middle-aged man moved carefully, keeping most of his weight on his back foot.
Nia watched.
"Let's slow down."
She demonstrated again.
"Your feet don't need to move far. Small steps are fine. The important thing is that you remain balanced."
Madison walked between the participants, helping them adjust their positions.
Brooke worked with the teenager who was struggling to maintain balance.
Tessa assisted the older man.
Daniel supervised the room.
The atmosphere was relaxed.
People made mistakes.
They laughed.
They tried again.
Nobody was embarrassed.
Ethan crossed his feet and nearly stumbled.
He looked at Nia.
"That was bad."
Nia shook her head.
"That was information."
He frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you found something you need to work on."
He looked down at his feet.
"So I did it wrong?"
"Yes."
Ethan's expression fell.
Nia smiled.
"But now you know what to change."
She demonstrated the movement again.
"Try it once more."
He did.
This time, his feet remained apart.
"Better."
Ethan smiled.
"Can I do it faster?"
"Eventually."
"How long?"
Nia laughed.
"Long enough to learn it properly."
He groaned.
Madison overheard them.
"Welcome to training."
The group laughed.
Nia watched the class.
For a moment, she remembered herself at eight years old.
The little girl who could not keep her hands up.
The girl who hated running.
The girl who wanted to prove she could beat her older brother.
She remembered the first time she had entered a training room and felt as though everyone else knew something she did not.
She remembered being afraid of looking foolish.
She remembered the first coach who had told her that mistakes were not evidence that she did not belong.
That coach had been Samuel.
He had never told her that she was special.
He had told her that she could improve.