Prologue

Six days before the incident

Saturday at 12 p.m.

Pov James

A beautiful blue sky with sparse clouds drifting lazily in the breeze and the sun beating relentlessly. The loud chirping cicadas can be heard from up high on the bleachers surrounding the Trinity High Football Field.

On the field, high school football players are doing intense drills to prepare them for tomorrow's home game. The coach was running the drills, seemingly keeping a particularly close watch on the quarterback. He is built like a bear at 6 feet 10; at around 260 pounds, he dwarfed his teammates.

"James, pick up your feet and move, son. I've seen turtles run faster than you."

Looking like he is on his last legs, James answers, "Yes, coach," trying to hide the irritation in his voice.

'Of course, I'm slowing down; I haven't had anything to drink in 2 hours, dad'. He shakes the negative thoughts away. He tried to refocus on the task at hand but was having trouble.

James glances over to the bleachers, his mind wandering once again. 'Maybe walking with Jin here this morning was a bad idea. He has been stuck in the bleachers for the past 4 hours, though he seems to have his head stuck in his phone while reading his books.'

James was exhausted because his father had him get here an hour before anyone else to run drills, which cut his time at the dojo and frustrated him greatly. James smacks his helmet to focus and starts rerunning the drills.

Ten agonizing minutes after hard drills, James collapses, seemingly from heat exhaustion. One of the teammates rushes to him and turns and shouts to the coach, "Coach Tucker James looks dead tired and very thirsty!"!

Grabbing a water bottle, he rushed over. "Clear the way," he demanded, worry strewn across his face. "I pushed the boy too far. How long has it been since he had a drink? I can't remember." Thought Coach Tucker. His face shows a mixture of worry and anger.

James looks at his father and says in barely a whisper, "Sorry, dad." "Dammit, son, drink next time. Tell me if you haven't drunk anything," his father sternly replied. A shout from the stands can be heard from a lanky male cursing as he tripped and fell down the stairs, almost comically landing on his ass.

Everyone turned their heads at once toward the bleachers just as he landed. Laughter erupted from everyone, including James, who started choking on the water he was drinking due to laughter. That one action cut through all the worry and tension like a truck steamrolling into a china shop.

"Jin, are you okay? It seems you might be a bit butt-hurt after that," James remarked, fighting through his laughter. Jin and James both rise to their feet almost in unison.

"Okay, that's enough practice for today," hollered coach Tucker. He then looked at his son in worry. "Are you okay, son?" James turned towards his dad, towering over him with a smile.

"yes, sir. Can I go hang out with Jin today? We've got some plans to head to Burger King. He has yet to try it, considering he has only been in the states for a couple of months, and after that, I want to show him the dojo.

The worry lifted from his father's face. "Sure, just be back before the street lights turn on." His father replied.

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Jin finally stood next to James and said, "Your, Mr. funny, huh, Mr. Not so gentle, Giant, but seriously, are you okay?" "Yes, Jin, I'm fine; I just ran out of gas; let's head to B.K. so you can have your first taste of a mid-burger.

At B.K., they order their food and sit down to eat. Jin picks at his food and seems almost lost in thought, staring at James wolfing down his burger.

"Soo, James, I know we've talked about this before, but pushing yourself so hard for something you hate is just wrong." "I understand respecting your father's wishes, but this is going too far. The N.F.L. is your father's dream, not yours." Glancing up from his nearly finished burger, James sighs.

"I know, but he's my dad and has always been there for me. He has supported my passion for martial arts. He drove me to the dojo every day when I was little. He only had one request that I play some ball, so it is what it is. I will tell him that I'm going pro and entering the octagon when I graduate in a couple of months. He will be disappointed for sure, but he will understand eventually," remarked James. Looking off to the side in deep thought "Hopefully," he muttered, barely audible.

The conversation died after that final remark. They finished their food in silence. James rose to his feet, threw away his trash, and then glanced Jin's way. 'I know he means well, but man, is he weirdly good at killing the vibe sometimes?' Walking back to Jin, who had just finished up, he picked up his gear.

"Are you ready to head to the dojo? I've got a match today, and I could use the support, especially after that hard practice." Jin looks at him with a smirk.

"Come on; you have two black belts in two martial arts. Who is your equal in this town? You don't need my support to win, but I would love to see you wipe the floor with your opponent. I will always support you, even if you never need it." The wry smirk never seemingly left his face as he spoke.

Both boys ran the five miles to get to the dojo, so James was on time for his match, arriving in just 22 minutes. James heads to the locker room in the back of the dojo to change into his Gi, while Jin sits by the back wall and waits for his best friend's match to start.

Jin looks up as he hears the front door open, and James' opponent enters. A man at least 20 years old who was at least 245 lbs and stood at a good 6'4. He couldn't compare to James in build or stature, and the man is more built like Sergei Pavlovich.

James finally appeared from the back, completely changing into his GI, wearing both black belts and looking quite imposing. He first bows to his sensei and then to his opponent: "My name is James, the current reigning champ in this city." Then he proceeds to get into his Southpaw stance.

"My name is Devon, and you won't be for long," Tevon proclaims with a cocky smile showing his teeth.

"Match start," says James's sensei, officiating the match. Like a flash, Tevon charges, jumps, and attempts a lightning-quick jump kick. Even though Tevon is moving quite fast, James sees it almost like it's in slow motion, like a scene from Spider-Man.

He sidesteps it, grabs Tevon's outstretched right leg midair, and then performs a crushing elbow strike to his shin. Using said momentum, he brings him to the ground and sets up a leg lock on the left leg, using his arms to cinch it in.

All of James's actions happened in less than one second. His opponent taps out a mere 2 seconds in the leg lock.

Jin raises his eyebrows before James and Tevon even get off the ground. "What did I tell you, James? You didn't need my support," she laughed nervously. He had never seen James move that fast. He almost missed it, and he was practically a blur. He had seen many of his fights while consistently winning with little effort, but it was different this time.

James stood up and tried to help Tevon stand, but Devon's right leg was bent oddly as if it snapped, and his shin was bent inwards. Tevon started screaming in pain; the adrenaline finally stopping seemed to suddenly allow the pain to rush forward.

James's sensei took one look and pulled out his cell phone to call the ambulance and report an injury. "I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to hit that hard. We will get you to the hospital." worry covered James's face like a mask contorting his facial features. Five minutes pass with James worrying over his opponent, waiting for the ambulance to come.

As the sirens faded in the distance, James turned towards Jin and asked, "How did I break his shin like it was a toothpick?" "It wasn't even a repeated blow. It was just one strike." Jin met his worried gaze. "Maybe he had a bad leg?" Jin reassuringly told James.

"Maybe... Jin, will you be alright walking back to your place alone? I need to get home. The lights will be coming on shortly." "I just want to put this day behind me," sighed James.

Jin looked at his friend, who looked scared and drained. 'He never was good at hiding his emotions.

"Of course, man, get some sleep. Trust me, tomorrow you will hear he had a medical condition or something, and no one will claim it's your fault. ."

James turned to look at his friend and patted his friend on the back. He turned and walked home.