Commit to the Fall

So when an open sign‑up sheet for judo practice appeared on the bulletin board for all grades, it felt out of place. 

Out of nowhere. 

Almost like an invitation he wasn’t sure he deserved, so he looked for a help.

He stood in front of Fuyuki-san, eyes lowered.

“Fuyuki-san,” he mumbled. Even saying the name made his stomach into knots. They were the same year, but Masaki felt older - taller, stronger, and calmer in a way that made Ryuji like a kid pretending to be one.

“Can you… teach me some judo?”

Fuyuki-san didn’t answer right away. He just looked at Ryuji with that unreadable expression, the one that made him feel like he was being evaluated. 

Fuyuki-san nodded once after exchanging glances with Yukiharu-san. 

“Hanako asked me to.”

And that was how the lesson began.

- - -

The gym echoed with others practicing - shouts and thuds to the mat echoed from corner to corner. All dressed in judo uniforms.

Ryuji rolled forward over his right shoulder. Sayuri-san and Yukiharu-did the same.

“Fuyuki-sensei, spot me, please.” Sayuri-san requested, raising her hand cheerfully.

“Sayuri, falling is letting your momentum take you.” He knelt beside her on the mat. “If you don’t, you can hurt yourself.” He added softly.

“Once you pick a side, you have to fully commit to it. If you pick your right shoulder, roll diagonally to your left hip.” He demonstrated slowly then gestured for her to try it herself and assisted her roll with a gentle nudge.

“Ko-chan, you’re so good at this. You should become a teacher.” She grinned and looked over at Ryuji, then she winked at Yukiharu-san. She stiffened up and approached Ryuji. 

Fuyuki-san audibly clicked his tongue and fixed his sash as he watched Yukiharu-san walked over to Ryuji.

“…Minato-kun. I can spot your fall.” Yukiharu-san offered, her voice was lacking the usual calm and firmness. 

He rolled as instructed and Yukiharu-san steadied him through the motion. He felt Fuyuki-san’s constant glare followed Ryuji’s movements. 

“I think you have the basic understandings in your head. Now ingrain the routine into your muscle memory.” Yukiharu-san offered her hand; the touch was soft and warmer than he remembered.

 Her smooth pull had enough force for Ryuji to be on a collision course to her. She yelped under her breath and sidestepped.

“Hanako, let’s switch.” Fuyuki-san marched over and grabbed her wrist.

Yukiharu-san’s tenderness evaporated in an instant. 

The two had a short glaring contest before she disgruntled and shook off his grab and walked over to Sayuri-san. 

Fuyuki-san blinked at her response and took some time to return to his usual stern self.

“Sayuri. Help me stretch, then let’s hit the shopping district.” She didn’t even wait for Sayuri-san’s answer and forced her to stretch. 

“Eyes here, Minato-san.” Masaki ordered, colder than usual. Did Ryuji’s interaction with Yukiharu-san cramped his mood? Or was there something more? 

“You’ve got the basics of fall already. You had training before?” 

“Back in elementary, Thought I would need a refresher.” 

“You remember shoulder throw?”

He was going for the harder stuff already. He's definitely upset.

He motioned hands to assume a holding position. Ryuji struggled to get in the basic holding stance. Fuyuki-san’s grip was firm, almost too aggressive for practice.

“It’s all muscle memory,” Fuyuki-san said. “Practice and let your body learn.” 

Before he could respond, Fuyuki-san’ tugged sharply. Suddenly, Ryuji was airborne, flipping over Fuyuki-san’s shoulder. The mat rushed toward his face.

Thud.

Ryuji landed squarely on his back - the air in his lungs escaped and his body felt like lead.

 “Remember this sensation, and when you pull it right, then you will have up to half a minute of opening.” He yanked Ryuji back up on his feet, then fixed his collar and sash.

Once Ryuji steadied his breath, Fuyuki-san motioned for another throw - this time, he wanted Ryuji to throw.

They took turns throwing each other, every successive thud to the mat louder than the last. 

Sayuri-san squirmed in the corner of Ryuji’s field of view. Yukiharu-san was pushing her down to stretch. Ryuji felt that he and Sayuri-san were being punished. He wasn’t sure why and wished the two would speak their minds instead of getting too physical.

After about a dozen or two throws, he couldn’t tell whether he was looking at the wall or the ceiling. 

“Let’s wrap it up here.” Masaki said and went straight into stretching. The girls had already left the gym to change.

“Are you upset with me?” Ryuji asked, groaning as his muscles ached. 

He pushed Ryuji further.

- - -

“Fuyuki-san, you want to grab something at the konbini? It’s on me.” Ryuji offered. “Thanks for staying extra to help me with the basics.”

“I did it because Hanako asked me to.” He answered without looking.

Then he dropped the bag and dashed towards the school entrance. Ryuji looked in the same direction and followed his trail. 

Shoes flung into the air.

Yukiharu-san and Sayuri-san were running back towards the school grounds through the first torii gate. A white van was right behind them. The vehicle swiveled at the gate, and four men jumped out in red oni masks. They chased after the girls through the two torii gates and through the school grounds. 

It was late, and there weren’t many students. But those who did, panicked and fled from the masked men towards the school building. Two had ropes and the other two had wooden bats. They split up to chase after Sayuri-san and Yukiharu-san along the rows of cherry blossoms.

Fuyuki-san dashed straight for Yukiharu-san. Ryuji split off to head to Sayuri-san. He drew his hands to bind his charm - a small opalescent triangle shimmered into existence.

Ryuji went straight for the man with a bat, the batter. His scale would easily block a swing.

Clang.

The bat struck the scale. Scale throbbed and the pressure from the shock carried over to his palm. The attacker raised his leg to kick. Ryuji grabbed the man’s leg. Then pulled his balance and slammed him onto his back.

Sayuri-san screamed around the corner.

A cherry blossom tree trunk was the only thing between her and the attacker with a rope. 

Ryuji pivoted his step towards her. A bat swung over his head. A shimmering triangle deflected the blow. 

Ryuji rammed forward, slamming the man against the tree trunk as hard as he could. There was a sharp crack, and leaves rustled violently. 

The batter caught after him and tried to strike Ryuji’s head once more. 

Ryuji wanted to gamble on an idea.

He split the triangle into four. The four pointed its edges against the incoming bat. There was a thunderous crack, and the bat split in half. 

“Yatta!” he rejoiced.

But the victory was short-lived.

The split wasn’t even, and a jagged piece struck Ryuji’s left shoulder.

The pain burned through him, and his leg nearly buckled. Fuyuki-san and Yukiharu-san were on the opposite side of the wide path.

The assailant’s pose was a textbook position prepped for a shoulder throw. Once he noticed, he had to commit to it. He turned his back against the opponent, grabbing the arm holding the splintered bat. The pain almost stopped him in the middle. He clenched his teeth and pushed past it. A thud was loud and heavy. 

The man gasped for breath.

Ryuji surveyed the other one whom he slammed to the tree trunk. Fragments of bloodied mask pieces scattered around the man on the pavement. He was clutching his face and groaning.

There wasn’t much time to process what he was seeing.

Ryuji limped over to the rope on the ground. The batter needed to be restrained. 

The earth beneath his bare feet rumbled—soft at first, like something alive was shifting under the pavement.

- - -

Ryuji rolled on instinct as Fuyuki-san instructed him earlier in the gym.

 The ground cracked and roared. Creaking roots broke through the pavement and tangled the attacker and immobilized him. Ryuji took this opening and hooked his arm under Sayuri-san’, pulling her away from the attackers.

Sayuri shook her head firmly. He wasn’t in the condition to carry her all the way to the school building either.

Another loud crack from the ground, and large roots erupted over where Fuyuki-san and Yukiharu-san were. Looked like he handled the rest of the attackers. As expected of Fuyuki-san. 

Now, he was walking over towards them.

The shadow shrouded Fuyuki—san’s face, but Ryuji could clearly see his clenched fists. 

Fuyuki-san’s eyes saw through him.

He wasn’t himself.

- - -

“Fuyuki-san calm down I’m not your…”

Before Ryuji could finish his words, a roots erupted beneath, wrapping his ankle. The grip was too firm for Ryuji to break. He needed an axe to chop it off.

He imagined his scale to spin it wasn’t spinning fast enough for him to use it like a saw. But he had to try.

Fuyuki-san walked over.

“Masaki stop!” Yukiharu-san yelled from a distance.

Sayuri stood in front of Ryuji, he placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Sayuri-san step away, I don’t think we can reason with him.”

Masaki drew closer and to Ryuji’s surprise, he threw a punch to his gut. Ryuji expected a collar grab and a throw to the dirt. A hook came from the right. A scale flashed in his trajectory to block it. A feint. His hand opened to grab his collar and gone straight for the throw. The root loosened and he was slammed to the ground. Then the roots bound him.

Masaki knees Ryuji in the gut once more and punches him in the face. Ryuji saw Masaki’s harened gaze at his face. His face felt hot and numb from the second strike. Sayuri screamed and heard another voice calling out for Masaki - Yukiharu shoved Masaki.

She embraced him.

“It’s over Masaki, calm down. I’m safe. You’re safe.”

She pulled his head towards her chest and caressed his head.

Masaki’s coarse breathing died down. He slouched into Yukiharu. The wooden sash around him retreated back into his charm.

The roots loosed around Ryuji.

“Attackers!” Ryuji shifted his attention to the bound assailants, trying to break free form the roots. His grip didn’t have enough strength after using his omamori. Sayuri dropped to her knees to try to break him from the roots.

- - -

“Does it hurt, Tacchi?” Sayuri pressed an ice pack on Ryuji’s face carefully. Her finger lingered on his shoulder while she leaned in for the ice.

Of course it did. What Ryuji couldn’t grasp was why Yukiharu-san and Sayuri-san were targeted. The pain started to bloom on his body as the adrenaline rush and initial shock passed.

“Thanks Sayuri-san.” He wasn’t sure where to place his hand. They naturally went to his chest. He looked over at Yukiharu-san and Fuyuki-san. She was holding him still, resting her chin over his head and arms wrapped around him.

The scene struck him harder than any punch.

The police apprehended the kidnappers, the van drove into the school grounds long gone. The four assailants were cuffed and escorted away. The police came to question Ryuji and Sayuri. She did most of the talking. They took their names and contact information and let them be. Meanwhile Yukiharu-san and Fuyuki-san were escorted away in a gray sedan.

Not once Yukiharu-san looked at Ryuji’s way. Her voice calling him by his first name echoed in his head, yet she drove off in a vehicle from him wrenched his chest in a way he couldn’t quite put into words. It was painful.

He wondered if she felt the same.