Nic rolled out of the throw her sensei had just thrown her into and managed to stagger back to her feet. She desperately tried to get her breathing under control as she moved backward, putting space between herself and the teacher. Returning to the ready position, Nic fought the urge to wipe the sweat out of her eyes, knowing she had to focus on the match.
If I can just hold out a little bit longer, maybe I can find a good opening,
she thought as she examined the sensei's movements. For over three years, Nic had been training in aikido, a form of Japanese martial arts. Wanting something that would direct both her body and mind, and a form of protecting herself, she had learned about the classes and nearby school from a friend. She had accelerated quickly through the ranks having always been rather athletic and finding the discipline of the sport to suit her lifestyle. Nic was a simple kind of girl, having never been interested in the types of things most females took up at an early age. Perhaps it was because she never really thought of herself as being very attractive in a womanly way, and as a result had always pushed that part of her life to the side.
By the time she was thirteen Nic realized she would never be what most of society considered "pretty". While she had completely pleasing features, there was certainly nothing striking in her looks. Her eyes were a clear and lovely shade of brown, but held no mystery. Her lips were full and soft, but since she often did not smile, most men wouldn't dream about her kisses. Her skin was smooth and the color of milk chocolate, but she habitually covered it in jeans and oversized t-shirts. She just wasn't the type of person to stand out in a crowd. It also didn't help that she tended to have a bit more weight than the average petite girl. She was built for strength, naturally through her genes and also through rigorous hours of daily training at the dojo. Nic's figure went more in the direction of Serena Williams, muscle and tone, than to the 110 lb. wenches in movies and magazines.
In light of all these facts, Nic had built up her other qualities. She had always been rather smart and did well in school. She had a drive to succeed which had pushed her through college and into a good job as a marketing manager, and was now pushing her through her martial arts training. Though she was not aware of it, Nic also had a good sense of humor and a keen sense of loyalty which inspired friends who would do anything for her. Though she hardly ever dated, her honesty and in-your-face attitude kept most of the men Nic knew somewhat in awe of her. She was unlike most anyone they knew which made them unsure of how to treat her. Nic, completely oblivious of this dilemma, chalked the fact that she didn't date much to her focus on career and complete lack of insight on the part of most men.
This didn't mean that Nic had none of the needs of the average red-blooded woman. As she rounded the mat, keeping the sensei at bay Nic couldn't help but notice the spectators judging the match from the side of the ring: the head instructor, another teacher who specialized in sword-fighting and a recent transfer from the school's sister dojo in Japan. It was this last man who distracted Nic and made this test match unbearable. Mostly because she did not want to look like a failure in front of him, but also because she felt an attraction which she refused to fully admit to. Both situations interfered with her concentration and often made her lose the emotional distance required to be a good fighter.
Des Radel had transferred to the states a little over three months ago. He was an American, but had been training under Yamashita sensei, the head of the entire division of their particular form of aikido for nearly ten years. He had gotten into martial arts at a young age after having seen a special presentation of various forms of the sport presented for a few of the elementary schools in the area. Des had taken to the training like a fish to water, having always been a somewhat serious child and quite willing to be instructed. He was a prodigy and had already acquired a high degree in the ranks by the time he reached high school. When he graduated, Des decided to go to college in Japan so that he could train under Yamashita sensei, an honor gained by very few and one that he had managed through incredible amounts of hard work. He was now one of the top practitioners of aikido directly under the sensei and highly respected by all the students.
His main reason for returning to Atlanta, Georgia was to aid in the further development of this particular school, the biggest chapter in the US. He had established himself quickly in the dojo, taking on a few of the adult classes and continuing to train the other instructors. He was an expert in both the hand-to-hand style as well as shinkendo, or traditional Japanese sword-fighting, so Des was often in the classes observing and lending his support.
The moment Des had walked into Nic's first class she knew she was in trouble. She had first been struck by just the look of him. Tall and broad, he seemed to command attention. He wasn't the typical definition of handsome, but seemed to create a new meaning for the word. His grey eyes were austere and distant, though it was obvious to everyone that nothing got past his gaze. His features were strong and chiseled, matching Des' general demeanor. The only thing soft about him was his longish black hair which he usually coaxed back into a ponytail for class. It was easy to see that nearly all of the women in the class were enamored of his offhand manner, attractive physique, and mastery of discipline. A few females in the class had already attempted to get under the skin and slide into the bed of the unshakeable new teacher, but none had of yet managed to do so. Nic managed to fight off her physical attraction to Des through pure mental stubbornness and tried her hardest to think of him solely as her sensei.
Personally, between Nic and Des there was an unstable kind of truce. Though they did not outwardly oppose each other, there often seemed to be friction. From the first time that he had taught her class, Des appeared to push Nic harder than the other students. He was constantly correcting her in his sharp, demanding way. Hardly a word passed between them that did not involve Des asking more from Nic. She didn't take his commands well, but managed to humble herself and put up with him. He had pressed her especially hard in the past week leading up to this test match, which would enable Nic to move up another level in her training. And now he stood on the edge of the mat, watching her every move. She could feel his eyes drilling into her even as she tried to focus.
Nic ran through a list of attacks and defenses in her mind as she gingerly put weight on her right foot. She didn't want to think about the pain issuing from the sprain she had acquired in the early moments of the match. She had wanted to continue and would be damned if she was going to look weak in front of Des. As she held her position, the sensei suddenly sprang forward. Going in to block and counterattack, Nic's ankle betrayed her at the same time the teacher adjusted his movements. He had faked her into the right position to take her down. In moments, Nic had hit the mat and the sensei had her pinned in a submission hold.
The head instructor clapped his hands to call an end to the match and Nic was released to pick herself up. She immediately kneeled before the three judges, flowing into position to bow to her seniors by placing her hands in front of her and bending over until her forehead barely touched the floor. She sat back on her feet, in seiza, as the head instructor called her name.
"Very good Nic-san. You have made excellent progress. I and the other judges will discuss the match briefly and let you know if you have passed."
