The sun had yet to set and Seth sat in his car, parked in front of Central Fighting Arts, his duffel in the passenger seat for the first time in almost two months. He was ecstatic to train again, but underneath the first layer of excitement, worry lurked. He didn’t want to awaken his new bloodlust again, not like he had at school. He needed the outlet, but training wasn’t the place to hurt someone. The thought of him suddenly being unable to control himself from going full-tilt concerned him. Still, the demon seemed to sleep for now.

Seth exited his car and slung his duffel bag over his shoulder before walking up to the front door. He paused, looking right to the car parked there. Was that who he thought it was? Seth ducked inside and scanned the floor of the dojo, breathing in the smell of sweat and hard work. His lips turned up of their own volition as she saw a girl dressed in fight shorts and a rash guard with her back to him, curly, sandy-blond ponytail whipping back and forth as she worked the current drill on the heavy bag.

Seth slipped his shoes off and placed them in the rack by the door, then crossed around the gym by the seating area where parents would watch the kids classes from. Only one person sat there, probably someone about to sign up—an olive-skinned woman in a black hoodie. Seth entered the locker room and began to unpack his training gear.

“Seth!”

Arms encircled him from behind and hoisted him off the ground in a bear hug before he could respond.

“This is the guys’ locker room, Claire!”

She set him down, he turned to see her, sweaty-faced and beaming. “Yeah, but I heard about everything and you’re finally back! I’ve been driving out here once a week so I could be here when you returned… You haven’t responded to any calls.”

“Oh, shit,” said Seth. “New number.”

“Oh, okay.” She grinned.

“I’ve… Got to get naked now…”

“Oh, right!” She moved to the door. “See you on the mats.”

Seth could hardly feel the demon right now. The reminder that there were people in the world who truly cared about him kept the swirling void at bay as he got dressed in his trunks and short-sleeved rash guard. Seth paused a moment, looking at his personal locker marked with a tiny red plaque for the red tab instructor rank he had achieved last year, and a single stripe at the end for his belt degree. In a week and a half he’d be eligible to go after both his black tab and his second degree. He smiled, the demon and the void sinking deeper out of thought. Seth put his street clothes and personal items in, locked it, and exited the locker room.

He set his duffel bag on the edge of the gym and then bowed to the flag and pictures of the style founders at the front before stepping on the mats.

“Seth,” boomed Coach John from the middle of the dozen or so martial artists working the kicking pads. “You’ve got reasons for being gone so long, but Ms. Tull told me she said something about two hundred push-ups at the tournament?”

“Yes, sir!” Said Seth, going off to the corner beside the sparring ring and dropping down. He could do that in two or three sets. Seth started pushing. One, two, three… The number in his mind kept climbing, and climbing, but his arms and chest refused to burn. He crossed one hundred, something that should have taken serious mental and physical effort from him, and kept going. A burn started to tease itself into being at one-fifty, but two-hundred came and went. Seth kept going, shocked at what was happening. There. Three hundred was hard. Seth’s touched the mat with his chest and pushed up one last time. Three hundred and one.

He sat back to his knees. His arms burned, but not like they should have for doing three hundred straight. He paused there. Andrew had said he was faster… Seth hadn’t bothered to look at the time on his watch since they had stopped at the old barn. He wondered if this was related to his new ability to recover from injury, if his body’s newfound healing capability buffered lactic acid, too. He pushed it out of his mind and stood to his feet.

“Done already?” Shouted the massive coach. “I didn’t think you’d be doing pushups in a hospital room.”

Seth shrugged. “Couldn’t wait to get back.”

“Grab your gloves, I’ll partner with you since we’re at an even number.”

Seth snatched his eight-ouncers from his bag and jogged over to Coach John, who already had two of the hard rectangular kicking pads favored in Thai kickboxing strapped to his arms. “Alright, everyone, next drill. Our local champion will demonstrate.” He grinned at Seth.

“You mean our local street fighter,” quipped one of the colored belts.

“Excuse me, what?” Asked Coach John.

Seth’s stomach dropped and he whipped his head to look at the blue belt that had spoken.

“Uh… Uh… Seth got jumped at school last week. There’s a video going around of it.”

“Uh-huh,” said Coach John, his eyes narrowed. He looked over at Seth. “Jumped?”

Seth felt the knots in his stomach forming. He couldn’t lie to Coach John. The man had known him since before Seth hit puberty. “No.” Seth shot a glare at the blue belt. “A kid was getting picked on. It was more like I jumped someone else.”

Coach John rolled his jaw. “We’ll talk after class. You’re not in trouble, I just want to know more.”

That didn’t reassure Seth.

“Alright, class. Push-kick, check, leg-kick, back-kick. Seth?”

Seth set up in his stance, guard high, and smashed his heel straight forward into the pads. Coach John’s stance faltered and Seth saw a look of confusion on his face that mirrored the feeling inside him. He should not be able to move Coach John. There was a hundred-pound difference between the two of them. Seth checked Coach John’s leg-kick, then responded with one of his own from the left, the flesh augment slapping hard against the offered pad. Set down. Seth pirouetted on his lead foot, chambering his knee high, then looked over his shoulder and lashed out. Heel smashed into pad again and this time Coach John took a full stumbling step back.

Seth reset back to his original stance. He could see the gears in Coach John’s head turning, probably wondering if his stance had been faulty or if he’d been off-balance. But Seth knew. Coach John was never off-balance. The man didn’t have a center of gravity, he was gravity.

“Everyone good?” Asked Coach John. “Spread out and work it. Two minutes each. Seth, you get four.”

Seth nodded and went to work on the pads, running the drill over and over. Each time he performed it with intent, Coach John staggered.

“Two minutes! Switch!” Coach John reset his pads. “Alright, Seth. What have you been doing since the tournament? You would have ruptured Jayson’s spleen if you were kicking like this then.”

“Coach, I don’t know.” Seth slapped his leg-kick through the pad and turned into a back-kick again, sending Coach John further back. He paused for a minute, letting his guard down. “I’m just stronger now, and I don’t know why.” He did, or at least he had an idea. But non-disclosure, right?

“You lifted a lot while you were waiting to come back?”

“Uh, yeah,” lied Seth.

“Hm. Feels like you added damn near two hundred to your squat.”

“I really doubt I can squat six.”

“We have a squat rack here. When was the last time you tested?”

“Before we started the last training block for Grand Island. I hit three ninety-five.”

“Test it after class while we talk.”

Seth shrugged. “Okay.” He ripped back into the combination, worried about what Coach John would have to say about the incident at school today.

***

Seth and Coach John loaded a forty-five on each side of the bar and Seth began doing his warm-up reps, sitting at the bottom for a bit to feel out the movement before standing back up. After a few reps, he racked the weight and they put more on.

“I saw the video while you were helping clean the mats.”

Seth got under the bar and paused. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Looks pretty bad, Seth.”

Seth walked back and did a few more reps with two twenty-five and then racked the bar again. They pushed the weight up to three-fifteen. “It looks like you attacked a random group of students.”

“Video didn’t get what happened before that?”

“Just you folding some poor kid in half.”

“He rushed me.” Seth ran through his reps with three-fifteen.

“So what happened before that?” Asked Coach John as Seth racked the weight.

“They were picking on a kid. I told them to stop, he pushed me, his friends grabbed me, and I did the rest.”

“You want ninety-five percent first?”

“Yeah.”

They pushed the weight up to three-seventy-five. Seth walked it out, kept his core locked, did a single, smooth rep, and racked the weight.

“Easy?”

“Yeah.”

“Four-oh-five?”

“Yeah.”

Four plates adorned each side of the bar now.

“What I’m concerned about is you nearly stomping a kid’s face in.”

“Video caught that?”

“Very much so.”

“You’re supposed to make sure someone doesn’t stand up when you’re fighting multiple people.”

“A face-stomp isn’t exactly the right method for that in a high school brawl. You could have stomped his stomach or kicked him in the groin.”

Seth gripped the bar as he leaned forward, uncomfortable.

“Did you want to stomp his face?”

“…yeah.”

“Still have the anger after beating Jayson?”

Not exactly. This was different. This was a new breed of it. Darker. Hungrier. “Something like that.” Seth got under the bar. The weight went up and down just as smooth as before.

They were quiet as they raised the weight by fifty pounds. Coach John broke the silence as Seth rested. “You know there’s nothing wrong with anger.”

Seth nodded.

“You just can’t let it control you. Fuel you, yes. Control you, never.”

“I’m trying.”

“I know you, Seth. I know you are. But Ms. Tull and I and every other instructor is here for you if you need the help. And…” He leaned and looked out the window. “Apparently Claire, too, it looks like she’s just sitting on her car out there.” He looked back at Seth. “I’m not going to give you a Mr. Miyagi lesson. Just squat the damn weight and let some of that rage out.”

Seth nodded, reaching down inside himself and feeling that demon within. Time to wake up. Seth got under the bar and walked it out, his core muscles containing the fire within his belly he now allowed to burn hot. One. Two. He growled. Three reps and Seth racked it, his legs still ready for more. Seth looked to Coach John.

“Five plates.”

Coach John raised an eyebrow, and they exchanged some of the weight for bigger ones. Seth stared at the bar. Four ninety-five. A hundred pounds more than he had lifted about six months ago.

“Don’t be scared of it. You know how to dump a bar. Be angry.”

Seth summoned to his mind the thought of his fight with Nicole, the rage he’d felt, helpless on that stone altar. Maybe he could channel it and not have his bad tendencies be such a detriment to him. He gripped the bar and stomped into place under it, driving his upper back up and unracking the weight. Seth took two even steps backwards. This was heavy. He filled his belly with a deep breath, bracing and locking his whole body.

Down.

Up. Up. Up.

Seth let out an enraged grunt at the top, the bar bouncing just a little on his back from the force he’d finished the rep with.

“Again,” said Coach John.

Seth’s vision narrowed on a spot in the wall in front of him.

Down.

Up.

Seth paused, letting some air out and drawing more in.

“Again!”

Down.

Up.

Seth’s vision pulsed and flickered at the massive pressure within his body. His mind recalled all the lies Nicole had told him to get him to the altar.

“Again, Seth!”

Down.

Up. Seth hit a sticking point. The weight seemed to suddenly get heavier, wanting to return to its home on the ground and crush Seth beneath it. No. Channel it. Seth thought back to sitting in the shrink’s office and being told that helping someone was wrong. Seth raged and the bar drove back up, whipping again at the top. Seth didn’t wait for another command, only took two steps forward and let the bar crash into the J-hooks before he sat down on the ground and sucked wind. For now, the demon was satiated.

Seth looked up at Coach John and grinned. “Four reps.”

“Got some new training weights to hit for this block then, don’t you.”

Seth nodded as he stood up. “Sure do.”

“Good. Clean this up and get out of here, I’ve got to file the bills.” Coach John slapped him on the shoulder and walked to his office, closing the door behind him. Seth removed the weights and then headed to the locker room to change. When he got inside the locker room, he stared at the combo lock on his locker. He always left it on zero, but it was turned to five. Seth set his bag down and stripped for the showers.

The hot water hit his body and relaxed his sore muscles. Seth took a few minutes alternating between ice-cold and boiling to help flush the lactic acid out of his body, then got out of the shower and dried off, staring at that lock the whole time. He hadn’t used a combo lock in a while now, and it was only five numbers off zero. Seth dismissed it and opened his locker, checking the contents. Still there. Good. Seth threw his street clothes on, then left the gym, waving at Coach John as he walked out.

There were four cars in the parking lot of the strip mall and bank. His WRX, a lone black BMW sedan parked by the bank, Coach John’s red Tesla, and Claire’s lime-green Ford Fiesta. She was sitting on the side of the roof, clothed in white shorts and a low-cut tee that matched her car. “Hey, Seth,” she smiled as he walked up her.

“Hey. Good workout tonight.”

“It was. It was good to see you training again since…”

Seth nodded. Claire deeply cared about those she formed friendships with, and underneath the top layer of bubbly cuteness, one could easily see the empathy in her soul.

“You glad to be back?”

“Very.”

“Still going for black tab later this year?”

Seth held up a finger and walked across the parking space between their cars. He chucked his duffel bag into the back seat, then walked back over and leaned against the car beside her, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t heard anything about it, but I’ve only been back for one day. I assume yes.”

“I will be, too,” she said. “Mr. Shirley said I was ready.”

“Well, you’re turning eighteen and you’re a red tab so it’d be just a bit embarrassing if you weren’t,” joked Seth.

She pushed the back of his head. “Watch it.”

Seth watched as a few cars sped past the parking lot on the three-lane road between them and a heavily forested neighborhood. Here and there houses poked out between the trees, like giant wooden monkeys watching the arrival of the first human explorers to their jungle. Half of the moon shone overhead, though the stars hid themselves from the light of the city. He looked over and up at her. “It’s really good to see you, Claire.”

She beamed down at him. “You, too.” Her eyebrows raised. “Hey, Seth. Who are you taking to homecoming?”

Seth looked down and shrugged. “Dunno. Hadn’t given it much thought really.”

“Great, because I want you to be my date.”

He started and back up at her. “To Grand Island?”

“Or to yours. Probably to yours. I don’t want you to go alone with Madeline there.”

“Oh. So this is a pity date. Got it.”

“No!” She placed a hand on Seth’s shoulder. “No.” She hopped down from the car and placed a hand on each of his shoulders. “Not a pity date.”

“Then what is it?”

She looked up and to the left, thinking for a moment before looking back to him. Her hands were still on his shoulders as her gaze returned to meet his. “Well, what would it be to you?”

“Not really something I’ve given a lot of thought to…” Seth hadn’t. They had always been good friends through their dojos. They went to training events and tournaments together. Grand Island and CFA would often road-trip together to out-of-state tournaments. He’d always looked at Claire more through the lens of whether or not her roundhouse hurt when it hit.

“I know.” She stepped up a little closer to him, her hands now together behind his neck. He didn’t feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was just familiarity. He and Claire had sparred a lot, they’d grappled each other. He knew what her body felt like up against his. And now it was up against his again. Her knee brushed his leg as she stood there.

“Just kiss, the whole instructor staff has seen this coming since you were brown belts.” Coach John had somehow closed the gym and gotten all the way to his Tesla without them noticing. They both separated, blushing, as Coach John leaned out the window, grinning and shaking his head. “See you tomorrow,” he shouted, then leaned back in and peeled out of the parking lot in the elegant silence of his vehicle.

Seth leaned over a little, laughing to himself. He looked to Claire. “I think the moment might be ruined.”

“No,” she shook her head and stepped in, putting herself back into the position they’d been in seconds ago. She kissed him. A short kiss. Sweet, only a few seconds before they separated and she looked into his eyes, smiling. “Not a pity date.”

“Uh, yeah, no,” said Seth.

“When is your homecoming?”

He chuckled. “My birthday, actually.”

“Oh, then I’ll be by your house with a present, too.”

“You should talk to Andrew, he’s-”

“Setting up a bonfire? Yeah, he already invited me. It’ll be the day after. I’ll be there.”

“Okay.” Seth smiled.

“It’s a bit of a drive back to Grand Island,” she said. “So I should get going so I’m not a zombie at school tomorrow. I’ll text you, okay?”

“Drive safe.”

“No.” She grinned and ducked back in her car. Seth watched her leave, then walked over to his Subaru. As he gripped the door handle, he paused. Goosebumps ran up and down his spine. Seth turned, surveying the parking lot for only a second before his eyes locked on that BMW parked next to the bank. The windows were dark, but he saw the the small orange glow of a cigarette inside the vehicle. Smoke escaped a crack in the driver’s window as he stared.

Seth turned back to his car, intending to forget it, but that feeling of being watched enveloped him. “Fuck this,” he growled, locking his car and turn toward the BMW. He walked toward it, fully prepared to get in a scrap, only vaguely aware that Coach John would probably have told him not to do it.

As he got halfway to the BMW, a cigarette flicked out the window to the pavement, and the car revved to life. Seth stopped, holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the high-beams. The car stayed still for a moment, then pulled back out of its parking spot and drove out of the lot. Seth stood there, watching the cigarette sputter out, the feeling of being watched now gone.