Blake’s Black Belt
For as long as her marvellous mind could recall, Blake envisioned herself as a master in martial arts; she dreamt of becoming a warrior when she was younger and saw Mulan for the first time ever. In response, Blake spent her days and nights with her papers and crayons, drawing herself fighting villains with her combat skills, and other illustrations of her clutching a sword. She would run across her parents’ backyard, yelling and kicking the air — pretending to fight off evil from the world.
As she grew older, her vision hadn’t faded, but rather refined itself and it narrowed down to a specific goal. She knew there was no need for her to be a warrior — she lived in a really quaint town where the biggest crime was the occasional littering. However, that did not stop her from aspiring to become the best person practicing martial arts. Her parents enrolled her in classes where she was taught how to absorb and practice her skills, duel with her classmates, and climb her way up to the ladder of success in this activity she adored so much.
Eventually, Blake was at the peak point of her learning. Her eyes were trained on the Black Belt resting inside a transparent box, waiting for her to wear it. She blinked as her eyes thirstily drank in the glorious sight of the end of her race, the end of goal, the beginning of her future. She then diverted her attention back on her opponent, who was gazing right at her with an eerily calm expression.
As soon as they were given the signal to commence, Blake and her opponent bowed to each other in formality, before rising back up. She took her defensive stance, never the one to begin her battles in offense. Blake would rather study her opponent’s behaviour and moves before making her own, calculative and strategic moves to take them down.
She was momentarily startled when her opponent mimicked her actions, their stance defensive and waiting for her to make the first move. Blake frowned, and swiftly recovered from her surprise, by choosing to poke the bear and feigning a kick. Her opponent moved to react, and Blake retracted her leg and slid her other leg to trip them.
Blake’s opponent staggered slightly, but they regained their stance before Blake could use the minuscule moment of lack of focus to her advantage. She gritted her teeth in frustration, her face flustered pink as her eyes swept across the room quickly to regard the audience, most of whom were cheering for her. She inhaled deeply, before the opponent lunged at her with their fist, and Blake ducked, before throwing a punch to their side and gripping their hips to send them crashing to the mat.
They fell, and Blake towered over the person, ready to claim victory, but her opponent slid underneath her to stand back up and swing their leg high up, managing to kick Blake in the chin. She stumbled backwards, her hand flying to her chin, and wincing in pain. But her eyes were gleaming with determination to win, and she didn’t allow the pain to seep long enough in her system, before she moved forward and abruptly bringing her knee up to hit her opponent in the abdomen, causing them to double over in pain, and she gripped their shoulders, swinging them in the air, before her opponent, once again, plummeted to the mat.
Blake moved over her opponent, pinning them down, and the referee halted the game, declaring Blake as the winner.
She blinked in disbelief, and immediately climbed off her opponent, setting her wide eyes back on the black belt, her black belt. It was sitting right there, waiting impatiently for her to wear it and officially declare herself a professional in martial arts. She laughed in disbelief, her journey flashing before her eyes. All her losses, her bruises, her pain — leading to this very moment of awe and accomplishment. It was all worth it. Every kick, every fall, every negative comment. She made it to the top, despite all of it.
Her teacher clutched the belt in her hands, before moving over to where Blake stood, with a bright grin etched onto her face.
“You deserve this, Blake.” Her teacher uttered with profound pride in her star student, and Blake laughed, bowing her head slightly in modesty and gratitude.
Blake tentatively took the black belt from her hands, and wrapped it around herself. She gazed down at the way it looked right there around her waist, over her white uniform, and she sighed in content.
This is where the black belt belonged. It was hers. She earned it, and she vowed to use it with honour.
This was only the beginning of her journey with her black belt. She could practically taste the thrill and adventures she would have with her belt in her future.
And she couldn’t wait to see it all.
