The gym was packed with fighters and spectators that day. Mikey's fists tingled, his heart pounding like a drum.
Across the ring, Jin smirked, stretching his legs with casual ease. His black belt gleamed, eyes sharp as ever.
"You ready to lose again, boxer?" Jin taunted.
Mikey's jaw tightened. "Not this time."
[Round One]
The bell rang.
Jin lunged first, a fast roundhouse kick aimed at Mikey's ribs. But Mikey shifted, sliding forward and closing the distance. He fired a sharp combination: jab, cross, hook.
Jin blocked some, but the sudden closeness threw off his range.
"Not bad," Jin grunted, backing up. "You actually learned something."
Mikey dodged another kick, weaving under a spinning heel. Every movement Marcus had drilled into him—footwork, slipping, closing the gap—came naturally.
[Round Two]
Sweat poured down both fighters. Jin's kicks were fast, brutal, but Mikey's fists landed solid hits, breaking through his defense.
"You're stronger than I thought," Jin admitted, gritting his teeth. "But don't get cocky."
Mikey's arms burned, legs quivered—but he pressed forward, pushing Jin back, each punch forcing the Taekwondo fighter to retreat.
This… this is different. Mikey thought. I'm not the same kid anymore.
[Climax of the Spar]
Jin threw a spinning back kick, a move that had humiliated Mikey in their first spar.
This time, Mikey ducked, rolled forward, and delivered a right hook square to Jin's chest.
Thwack!
Jin stumbled, surprised, then smiled, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Finally… someone makes me work for it," he said.
Mikey stood in the center of the ring, chest heaving, fists raised. He wasn't exhausted—he was alive. Stronger. Ready.
Marcus stepped forward, clapping slowly.
"Good. That's the fire I wanted to see. You're learning, Mikey. And this… this is only the beginning."
Mikey's eyes flicked to Jin, who nodded slightly in respect.
The bullies at school… I won't let them break me anymore.
The first true step toward reclaiming his life had begun.