A Little Pain

It was like a hot spark across his skin, followed by an icy-cool aftershock to dull the pain. Then adrenaline cranked through his veins, rushing to fill his limbs and his mind with lightning energy.

Scott eased his fingertips away from the burn and straightened up.

Carolyn stood in a high fighting stance, fists up to guard her core, but she was watching him, concerned.

“Did I hit too hard? I can pull my hits.”

Scott bit his lip and felt the old burns on his hip flare, but he shook his head. “No holding back. I want a black belt, and I’m willing to work for it.”

“All right.” Carolyn’s gaze went oddly blank - Dan said it was Zen - and then she was in his space, kicking and striking, almost too fast for him to see. Each contact was a fresh blossom of pain against his ribs, his chest, his upper arms, and he hoped he bruised, but he attacked her right back, meeting strike for strike and block for block.

Carolyn was better than all of them, and they knew it, but Scott refused to give up.

Until she had him facedown on the mat, arm twisted up behind his back, and he had to tap out.

“That was good,” Carolyn said. “You’re getting better, but you’re still walking a fine line. You used to overthink, but now I think you’re not focusing quite enough.”

Scott nodded, shook her hand and bowed. “Thanks.” He checked his watch. “I better go shower and change for soundcheck.”

Carolyn nodded. “Go on - I got the mats.”

* * *

Scott showered under too-hot water, cranked up the pressure to high and felt the needle-sting of pounding water against his fresh wounds. He slid a hand up to his ribs and pressed, felt the new bruises there, and he had to bite his lip so he didn’t make a sound. The fresh rush of adrenaline and agony made him dizzy.

Every now and again, he just wanted a little pain.