Chapter 23: The Unbalanced Mind

That is the only conclusion I can come to.

I am standing outside the abandoned dojo. It is 5:51 AM. "Early," as I have now learned. My body is a roadmap of fading bruises, my arm has a new, angry-looking scar, and my mind... my mind is just... gone.

It is completely, totally, system-crash-level broken.

All night, I did not sleep. I just kept replaying it.

The rooftop. The whisper. The scent of her hair. The soft, impossible, terrifying press of her lips against my cheek.

CRITICAL SYSTEM FAILURE.

She... she kissed me.

Ayako Katsumi. The ice goddess. The yakuza predator. The girl who analyzes my cardiovascular system.

She... kissed... me.

And then she had the nerve to tell me my heart rate was "inefficient."

I slide the heavy dojo door open. The familiar smell of old wood, dust, and her clean, soap-like scent hits me.

She is already there.

She is in the center of the mat, in her black training gear, her hair in that severe ponytail. She is standing perfectly still, her back to me, her eyes closed. She looks like a statue.

"You are distracted."

Her voice is not a question. It is a statement. She has not even turned around.

"I..." I start, my voice embarrassingly weak. "I am... early."

She turns. Her face is a perfect, beautiful, cold mask. It is the dojo face. There is no trace of the girl on the rooftop. No amusement. No sparkling eyes. Nothing.

It is like it never happened.

"Your mind is late," she says, her voice flat. "Your thoughts are inefficient. You are unbalanced. It is... pathetic."

A spark of my usual anger flares up. "Oh yeah? And how can you tell, sensei?"

"Your breathing is shallow. Your stance is open. Your gaze is unfocused. You are thinking about the rooftop."

My blood freezes. She... she just said it.

"I... I am not!" I lie, my face instantly hot.

"Your heart rate is audible from here," she says, her voice bored. "It is inefficient."

She is doing it again.

She picks up a bo staff. "This is unacceptable. A distracted mind is a liability. It will get you, or an asset you are protecting, killed. Today, we correct this."

"Wait," I say, holding up my hands. "We are just... going to ignore...?"

"There is nothing to 'ignore'," she interrupts, her voice like ice. "There was an observation, a stimulus, and a reaction. Your reaction was inefficient. We are now correcting the inefficiency. Attack me."

She is... she is unbelievable. She is treating a kiss like a... a training exercise.

"Fine!" I yell, my frustration boiling over. "FINE!"

I charge her. I am not thinking. I am just a mess of anger and embarrassment. I throw the punch I have been practicing for weeks. The one that starts at my heel and snaps from my hip.

WHACK.

The staff is not there. Her hand is.

She does not block my punch. She... catches it.

Her hand, which looks so small and delicate, just... closes around my fist, stopping it dead in the air. My entire body jars to a halt.

I am completely, totally stunned. The power...

"Your anger," she says, her voice low, "is still your primary weakness. You are... so... predictable."

She twists my wrist.

It is not a violent move, but the pain is instant and blinding. My body has no choice but to follow the twist. I cry out, spinning, and land flat on my back on the mat. The air explodes from my lungs.

She is standing over me, my captured fist still in her hand, my arm bent at an angle that just screams.

"You are flustered," she states, her face inches from mine. "A single, calculated action... a simple stimulus... is enough to destroy your entire foundation. What if an enemy uses this against you?"

"You... you are not my... enemy..." I gasp out, my arm on fire.

"In this dojo, I am nothing else."

She is... she is using it. She is using the kiss, the single moment of... whatever... it was... as a weapon against me.

She lets go of my hand and steps back.

"Get up. Again."

The next two hours are the worst hell she has ever put me through.

It is worse than the first day. Worse than the bokken.

I cannot land a hit. I cannot even focus. Every time I get close to her, my brain just... stalls. I see her face. I remember the rooftop. I remember her smirk.

And then I am on the mat.

THUD.

"You are thinking about my face. Not my center. Attack my center."

WHACK.

"You are off-balance. Your thoughts are making you clumsy. Stop thinking and react."

SWEEP.

"Pathetic."

Finally, I am just lying in the middle of the dojo, a puddle of sweat and failure. I am not even angry anymore. I am just... empty.

"I cannot do this," I wheeze, staring at the dusty ceiling. "You... you broke me. I cannot fight you."

"Good."

I turn my head. She is standing by the window, taking a sip of water.

"You have... finally... emptied your cup," she says. "You were full of your own confusion. Now, you are empty. Now, we can begin."

I just stare at her.

"You... you did this... on purpose?"

She turns, and I see it. Just for a second. The tiny shadow of that rooftop smirk.

"A predator," she says, "uses every weapon available. Your emotions are your biggest weakness. And... my greatest weapon against you. Until you learn to control them, you are nothing but a liability."

She picks up her bag. "We are done for today."

"Wait! That's it?"

"Yes. You have learned your lesson. Your cardiovascular system has had a... significant... workout."

She pauses at the door.

"Tomorrow. 6 AM. And, Minatawa-kun?"

"What?" I groan.

"Try... to get some sleep. Your performance today was... deeply... inefficient."

The door slides shut.

I am left alone, my body aching, my brain completely rebooted.

She is not a predator.

She is a demon.

And I am, without a doubt, the stupidest idiot in the entire world.