home,” she says with a grin. Her eyes are a really cool ice blue colour, and her hair is long and black, tied up in a ponytail. “Soon it’s our turn. Are you nervous?”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t get nervous much. It’s pretty fun getting up there.”
“You’re not worried about getting beat by a girl during the sparring?”
I shrug. “Not really. Dad says we can learn more from failing than succeeding. So if you beat me, then I guess you’ll be doing me a favour by teaching me something new.”
“Yep.” She nods seriously. “All part of the game.”
“What game?” I ask.
Danielle spreads her arms wide, I’m not sure what she’s pointing at, but it seems like she means everything in the world. “The only game that matters, Trew. Life. Everything we do. It’s all just a game.”
“I kind of said the same thing to my Mom earlier,” I say.
“Well then, you’re kind of smart,” she says.
When it’s time for the blue belts to perform, we start off as a group and go through the kata for our level. There are about 20 of us; Danielle and I are the youngest. Usually a kid is around 12 or 13 to be at the blue belt level, but I practice a lot and Sensei says that I earned the early advancement. Danielle must have done the same. I go through my forms, watching her out of the corner of my eye. She’s good. Very good. Strong, crisp, also relaxed in her style. It looks like she’s been doing karate her whole life. She told me she’s only been at it for two years. I've been practicing four years.
We form a ring around the outside of the mats, waiting for our turn to spar. At this level, we don’t need the headgear. Head contact isn’t allowed and we all know how to make sure the punches don’t connect. Watching the little ones spar is cute. Watching us spar is better. Not as good as the highest level belts, but I’ve sparred with brown and black belts and even won, so the parents will get a good show.
Danielle and I go last. I walk to one side of the mat and she goes to the other. We face each other and bow. She looks very intense. I have a sudden feeling I might lose. Locking eyes with her, I quietly use my imaginary power and whisper, ‘You can’t win this match, Danielle.’
Her eyes squint and she freezes in place. She quickly looks around then her gaze snaps back to me. “Hey, what did you just do?” she asks seriously.
Stephanie
“Hey!” Raphael exclaims in a loud whisper. “Did you just see that?”
“Yes,” I say.
“How long has he been able to do that, Stephanie?”
“Couple years. But you know how it works, Raph. Most kids can do it when they’re young. Life and experience eliminates the Talent soon enough. He thinks it’s just his imagination.”
Raphael laughs, keeping his eyes on the kids as they get ready to spar. “It is just his imagination!”
I scowl. “You know what I mean. He doesn’t believe in it, so soon it will fade, same as always.”
“Maybe,” Raphael sounds doubtful. “But Danni just spotted it, and that’s likely going to be a problem for me.”
“Why?”
“Because she can do it too. And I don’t know how she actually recognized Trew doing it just now, but I know her. There’s no way she’s going to stop believing in it after this.”
Trew Radfield, age 9
“I didn’t do anything,” I say.
“Yeah, you did.” She shrugs, “Okay, don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out soon enough. Let’s rock.”
I get into a guard stance and she does the same. We circle each other for a couple of seconds, neither of us retreating or giving ground. I’m usually the more aggressive one in a match, which often forces my opponents to take a few steps back. Danielle must play the same way, because we both stand our ground and take small steps forward, waiting for the right opening to attack.
She drops her shoulders and makes it look like she’s going to
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