Not for the first time do I lose my weapon.
There is chiding in Jacob’s expression, but I still do not back down.
And neither does he.
We are still on guard.
My stance does not waver despite having nothing in my hand. Truly “kara-te”.
There’s something like a smirk on Jacob’s face as he throws down both shinai and slips into a fighting stance.
This is new.
Neither of us advances.
“You know there’s no way you’re going to win this, don’t you?” part of me observes.
“I know,” says the other. “But there’s no chance in hell I’m backing down.”
I don’t remember who threw the first punch, but I remember who threw the last.
Pinned.
Jacob has me locked and grounded in a tangle of limbs. There’s no way I’m getting out of this one.
Well, there is…but I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Besides, there’s a good chance I’ll hurt myself more than my opponent.
“What are you going to do now?” he asks me. There is no superiority in his timbre.
Just a simple question.
“I don’t know,” I confess. But my left hand is free, and so is one of my legs. The question is, can I pull anything off?
I don’t try.
Nor do I struggle.
I simply remain locked in his strong hold, considering and weighing my options.
“Do you yield?”
“No.”
God, why? You’re so obviously screwed! Back down! Admit defeat! You’re no match for him!
Shut up.
He tightens his hold, drawing my leg unbelievalby close to my chest. This should really hurt…
“How about now?”
“No.”
Jacob holds me here. “What can you do?” he asks.
“I’m not sure,” I reply, “but I will not yield.”
“Okay. What’s free?”
I thrash my free leg. If I had the skill, I could kick him in the head. He twists around and now both legs are pinned. I’m still at the disadvantage. This should really be hurting me…
“What now?”
I wave my left arm about. He nods. Without instruction, I twist my arm around until I have some semblance of a shot of his head. “Good!” he cries. “If you push you’re fingers under my nose, right above my lip, you can manuever my head anywhere you want.”
After some blind tries, I do as instructed. “Good!” Jacob twists once again and now I’m utterly and completely locked. “Do you yield?”
“No.”
You fucking moron! Just give up!
I…can’t…
He tightens his hold and parts of my body close together that really shouldn’t. Why isn’t this hurting me?
I’ve lost. I know this. He knows this. But I stubbornly refuse to tap out.
I can’t back down.
I can’t give up.
Someone’s counting on me…
What?
Jacob eventually releases me. Both of us know I’m dead.
“The only thing running in my mind over and over again was ‘You know you can’t win.’,” I tell him.
“The only thing running in my mind was ‘I’m sorry you have to die.’,” he replies seriously.
I smile, “Could you really do it?”
His answer is stolen from my memory…but I think he said “yes”.
“You pulled your punches,” he notes.
“I know,” I admit, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Jacob says nothing.
For reasons beyond both of us, we square off again. We’re both pulling. I land a harsh shin kick on him.
His eye darkens, but clears just as quickly. “I can’t kick you in the face.”
“Sure you can.”
“I’d break your nose.”
I simply shrug. “Then I’d learn to block.”
There are simple observations and instructions along the way.
He pins me again. He asks me to yield, yet again…
But I still refuse.
I cannot give in.
I cannot yield.
I’m absolutely drained. I have never had to expend so much of myself in a match before.
When I square off against Mike, shinai in hand, I watch in fascination as my circle bends against his. It does not break, nor does he step inside.
I can’t tell if this is a good thing or a bad thing.
I shouldn’t be fighting…but I cannot back down from a challenge.
I’m tired.
It shows.
And yet, I do not back down.
I step away from our fighting circle with humility and pride.
I have been rightfully killed…
But I did not yield…
