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The day after the regional tournament, the gang was all back in the dojo, practicing like normal. It had only been a week since Carson had shown up and Rudy hadn't realized how much the air had changed in that time. Any time Carson and Jack had been at practice at the same time leading up to the competition, everything had felt charged with tension. And when neither were there, it just felt empty. Now, it was just Eddie, Jerry, Kim, Jack, and Milton again, in for his later afternoon class. It was like the universe had rightened itself.
Still, there was a bitter taste on the sensei's tongue. It would always be upsetting to think that Carson had at some point been turned into a cheater. He had once been Rudy's student too, and Rudy cared for him as he did any of them. But he wouldn't tolerate what Carson had shown to be willing to do. The Bobby Wasabi dojo was no Black Dragon territory. And, admittedly, the fact that Jack had been the target had probably been a big factor in him immediately banning Carson. After all, nothing would change the fact that Jack was his star student and that he'd earned that title through grueling work.
Despite Carson actually cheating, though, Rudy was still a little worried about the way that Jack had acted in his apparent loss. He hadn't been lying when he told his students that real character was revealed in defeat. Don't get him wrong, he understood—Jack honestly wasn't used to losing. He hadn't lost in quite a while and was usually good at just about anything he put his mind to try. But his skill level was forcing him to teeter on cockiness, even if it was somewhat deserved. That was Rudy's fault. Jack was a good sport, so he hadn't noticed anything too wrong, but he couldn't really judge when Jack wasn't challenged often enough.
For that reason, he was careful to keep an eye on Jack the day after his fight against Carson. He was always quick to forgive when it came to his friends, but he was clearly still a little hurt that they had all unknowingly abandoned him for Carson. He elected to just do drills rather than spar with anyone, even when they all tried to go out of their way to include him. He wasn't cold, of course, since he was terrible at holding grudges, but there was a noticeable separation after the universe rightened where there hadn't been a week before.
As a result, Rudy almost missed it. Almost. But he'd been trained by the greatest grandmaster the world had to offer and was very humbly observant. Jack was hurting, physically. His winces weren't just because of his over high kick. The way his hand hovered over his side certainly wasn't his flawless form, even if his less experienced students failed to notice. He hadn’t used his left arm the entire practice, even if it was seemingly moving normally.
"Take five, everyone, get some water," Rudy abruptly interrupted their usual training.
Milton quit helping Jerry with his side kicks and Kim and Eddie dropped their slow practiced movements. Jack stepped away from his thoroughly beaten training dummy.
"Jack, c'mere," Rudy waved the boy over.
His other students gave him weird looks but found their water bottles at the edges of the mat to take a breather. Jack grabbed his water before walking over. He frowned, but sat obediently when Rudy asked him to sit on the bench, sideways with legs on either side. Rudy sat with him and Jack seemed to realize that this would be a full talk.
The boy grimaced, holding his water bottle on the bench between his legs. "Rudy...if this is about the tournament—"
"Hang on," Rudy stopped him gently. "It's...well, actually, it kind of is."
"I'm really sorry," he told him, his head bowed so that his hair half shrouded his face, though it wasn't enough to hide his guilt. "I know that Carson was in the wrong, but...I broke the code, too. I joined the Black Dragons for a personal vendetta and...loyalty is the most important part of the code. I'm sorry. I hope you know that I never betrayed you guys—or, I...I never wanted to. I don't care about the Dragons."
Over Jack's shoulder, Rudy could see his friends sharing looks of sad regret. Jack was too focused on the cap of his water bottle to even think of looking back, apparently.
"We know," Rudy reassured him quietly, at least to keep up the pretense of some sort of privacy. "You were in an awful situation and we didn't listen when you tried to get help...so I'm sorry too. Carson wasn't my only student and it was unfair of me to trust him over you, especially since he was gone for so long. But...that wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about."
Jack looked up at that, his frown back, but some relief behind the confusion in his eyes. "What is it?"
Even then, Rudy couldn't help but notice that his left hand hadn't shifted much at all since he'd clasped the bottom of his water bottle. He was wearing a short sleeve T-shirt, so Rudy ran an eye over the arm, but didn't see anything outright wrong.
"Carson used sand in his gloves," Rudy recalled. "And I've been cheated on a few times myself. I know how much those things can hurt. Let me see."
Jack hand went up almost unconsciously to hover over his ribs. "I'm fine, Rudy, seriously. You don't have to worry about that. I've been in plenty of tournaments."
"Jack."
The boy glowered at him, but Rudy just raised a concerned eyebrow back. Jack shook his head, unscrewing the lid of his bottle and taking a long drink, turning his face away from his teacher.
"If you don't let me see so that I can decide what kind of practice you can still do, I just won't let you train at all," Rudy sighed.
Jack sputtered, spilling some water into his shirt in his haste to to glare in disbelief. "But—"
Rudy's firm look was enough to stop him there.
Jack looked down and grumbled to himself wordlessly before taking another swig. Rudy waited patiently, even though it seemed that for a moment he would be ignored again. Then Jack set his water bottle down near his bare foot and pulled the hem of his shirt over his head. He was sure to show Rudy his reluctance in his slow movement.
Rudy grimaced at the black and green bruising that revealed itself on tanned skin. Jack held his shirt awkwardly in his hands. Overall, there weren't many wounds at all, as Carson hadn't been good enough to land an abundance of blows on the likes of Jack. Still, the few that were there were dark enough and just in the right places along his ribs to make any twisting or slouching uncomfortable if not outright painful. They were purpling, now, and a bruise on his side was slightly swelled.
Rudy held out his hands. "Give me your arm."
Jack puffed a sigh through his nose, but didn't ask which arm—he just silently lifted his left. Rudy pressed down carefully around his wrist and elbow with no reaction, only getting a clear wince when he leaned up to prod Jack's shoulder a little too hard. He quickly let up the pressure. Jack pulled away to flex the shoulder, holding it as he did, lips pressed tight.
"Have you ever dislocated it?" He asked into the quiet, lessening the force of his examination.
Jack grunted an affirmative. "A few years ago. It's not that bad. It just twisted wrong for a second when he kicked me on the ground. I should be fine by tomorrow."
Rudy nodded, dropping his hands. Gesturing toward the couple of colorful spots on Jack's torso, he asked, "How are those? Did you want anything for them? I have a couple of ice packs, but I can find something more, if it's bad."
"It's not," Jack said shortly, unfurling his shirt and throwing it back on. Rudy didn't miss his grimace when he lifted his arms over his head. "Thank you, though."
Rudy's eyes skipped back to his other students as Jack put his shirt back on. Jerry had frozen quietly, hand unmoving around his water bottle. Kim was staring at Jack's back with a stricken look, as if she were the ones with the bruises. Eddie and Milton were grimacing, but trying to make it seem like they hadn't also been eavesdropping. The dojo was small, though, and no one else had been talking while Rudy spoke with Jack, so it would have been impossible for them not to hear.
"So, am I good for practice?" Jack asked, a little exasperated since he knew none of his injuries were bad enough to pull him from anything.
"No show stuff or weapons," Rudy relented, waving him off. "Try to stick to basics."
"Oh, man," Jack mock complained dryly. "I was going to do a couple quadruple back hand springs as a warm up."
Rudy scoffed, patting him a little hard on his good shoulder as he stood.
Kim was the one who spoke into the heavy air, lips pursed with concern. “Jack…”
Jack shook his head. “Forget it. I already said sorry, you guys said sorry. We’re all sorry. So let’s just forget it.”
Jerry shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down at the mat. Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, fiddling with the bottom seam of his practice shirt. Neither added anything, the sound of Jack’s locker closing loud in the otherwise quiet room.
Milton sighed through his nose. “Jack, Carson was—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jack cut him off. “Let’s just pretend it never happened.”
Everyone in the room longed for that easy way out. Carson had been their good friend and he’d turned out to be a different person than they’d thought. They’d defended an abusive, manipulative person, even if Jack hadn’t gone about proving it in the best way. They had still, in some way, betrayed Jack. And he now had bruises to show for it. He was hurt because of what they had done. Not just his feelings or his ego, but physical damage had been done. Jack couldn’t train how he usually did because it brought him too much pain.
That weight was brutal on the shoulders of a couple of fourteen and fifteen-year-olds. They’d just trusted the wrong person, but the consequences had been very real. Rudy could see it on the faces of his students—Jerry’s eyes were misting up, a self-hatred on his face that Rudy loathed to see. Rudy wished he could take all the blame for what had happened on himself, but he knew that his students would never fully believe it.
“Cool, I’m glad we had this talk,” Jack said sharply when no one else responded. “Rudy, don’t we have forms to go over today?”
Rudy took a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Line up, guys, let’s get to practice. Jack, if you’re ever in too much pain—”
“I know,” Jack muttered. “I’ll tell you.”
Rudy nodded, not believing him in the slightest. But what else could he do? No one could make Jack Brewer do anything he didn’t want to do.