Judo Arena – Individual Event
The crowd in the indoor arena quieted as the next match neared. Sunlight filtered in through high windows, casting long rectangles across the mat. The light made the floor look like glass—fragile and sharp.
Shoes scuffed against tile. Referees moved in practiced rhythm.
Zane stood at the edge of the mat, barefoot. His gi was slightly wrinkled, belt tied a bit too hastily, like he'd thrown it together two minutes ago. He scanned the arena like it was normal for him to get this much attention.
Across from him, a burly guy bounced from foot to foot—bigger, heavier, belt a shade lighter, full of twitchy bravado.
Off to the side, Celeste watched. Arms crossed. Gi flawless. Silent.
They'd taken judo lessons together when they were kids. Zane used to cry the first time he got thrown. Now, he met her eyes. She gave him a quick, uncertain look—part concern, part faith.
The referee raised a hand.
"Begin!"
His opponent charged, grabbing for the collar.
