[Sorry, I'm not interested.]

  [I-I totally understand that, and—]

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Hung up.

  Sighing deeply, he searches on his laptop.

  [weidoj.com...]

  Scrolling through the site, he calls the number, holding his phone close to his ear.

  His stomach flutters as the call connects.

  [Hello?]

  Here we go...

  [Good morning, am I speaking with, uh, Coach Gervasi, from WeiDoj?]

  [Yup, that's me. What's the reason for your call today?]

  [So, I'm... going to be c-completely honest with you, I was calling to, uhm...]

  Panic rises through him as his mind goes blank.

  [...I was calling t-to, uh, seek coaching. So, you can hang up right now, or g-give me 30 seconds to explain my call. Does that sound... sound fair?]

  [Uh... Sure thing, go ahead. I'm listening.]

  [So, I checked your site and... Saw you have a history in private coaching. I'm interested in, like, learning from you and, uh... You know, getting better at it, as I'm really interested and want to... To grow. I was about to— ]

  [I don't really do private coaching anymore. Even if I did, what's in it for me?]

  Gulping, he thinks of an answer.

  [Uhm... I have some experience in martial arts, and I learn really fast, so then—]

  [I just... Don't see it, man. How much are we talking about, in payment?]

  [Well, I don't really have a way to pay, b-but I almost pass—]

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Hung up, again.

  He closes his laptop, throwing his phone on the desk.

  Frustration clings to every part of him as he notes down his mistakes.

  He was so much better.

  Why hasn’t it happened yet?

  Standing up, he opens the door to the room before exiting.

  A figure approaches.

  [You did well. Try to be a little clearer.]

  Jenneah. She crosses her arms, a serious expression on her face.

  [I'll try.]

  [You always say that, and end up on the same page. You've wasted a whole year on this, Hinozu. Isn't it enough?]

  Hinozu balls his hands into fists.

  [Uhm... I...]

  [You won't even leave it. Stubborn.]

  Sighing, she walks away.

  [It's their fault.]

  He brushes a hand on the wall.

  [I'm doing my best, and providing value. They're the ones who won't accept.]

  Taking the stairs to the entrance area, he puts on his shoes, tying his laces.

  Walking to the kitchen, he grabs a cold bottle of water before returning.

  Pushing the door open, he steps outside, the Sun's heat already burning his skin.

  He stretches lightly.

  And then, after quickly fixing his hair...

  The sound of hurried footsteps.

  Shoes, their soles stomping against the pavement

  The deep breaths. The sweat that starts to surface.

  One step. Two, three, four.

  Steadily.

  After roughly an hour of running, he sits on a bench, looking ahead into a wide canal.

  People go on about their day. Relaxing, having picnics, or just playing sports.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  Having rested enough, he stands up, stretching again before jogging lightly for a few minutes.

  Increasing his pace, he runs on the smooth pavement, focused ahead.

  A man passes him by.

  Hinozu picks his speed up, outpacing him.

  Reaching the ocean, he turns around, staying in place as he throws a few kicks and punches in the air.

  Feeling rested, he jogs again in the opposite direction.

  [Worst part...]

  [Back home.]

  2 hours.

  3 rests.

  900 calories.

  After a quick, cold shower, he sits down at his desk again, opening his laptop.

  Already feeling nervous.

  Looking up a name from his notebook, he types it slowly, as if afraid of each key.

  With a weary sigh, he closes the tab.

  [I should... Learn.]

  [Get better...]

  Browsing through the videos, he hovers above them, watching for a few seconds.

  With the pen held firmly in his hand and his ears attentive, he writes down.

  But...

  It can't be enough with just... One, right?

  I... Need to watch more, to be able to...

  [But then... I need to actually do it to improve.]

  Sighing, he flips through the pages of his notebook again.

  Searching. Looking. Writing.

  Calling.

  [Hi. Who's calling?]

  He stays silent, reading through his notes.

  They make no sense now.

  [Oh, um, hi, it's—]

  Nothing.

  Another one ended.

  Failed.

  And even with a heavy feeling in the heart...

  It's just...

  Alright... next.

  [Hi, you've called RangBokk. Please wait patiently, we'll answer soon.]

  A calm music plays in the background, in such a low quality that it makes Hinozu chuckle.

  His palms sweat profusely.

  [Hi, hope you're having a good day. You've called RangBokk, how can I help you?]

  [Yeah! So, is the, uh, the owner available?]

  [He is. May I ask the reason for your call?]

  Hinozu reads through his notes.

  [I just... Wanted to speak to him about something. Like, coaching.]

  [Ah, I see. I'd recommend you look at our website for fares. If not, I can help you with that. How does that sound?]

  [No, no. I mean, sounds interesting. I'm the— I'm interested in private. Coaching, I mean.]

  The receptionist stays silent for a short while.

  [Sure, I'll pass him the phone.]

  [Thanks.]

  He quickly rubs his palms on his pants.

  [Hello?]

  [Hi, this is Hinozu. I'm calling to... Seek private coaching. I must— I mean, you may be a little confused as to why, but—]

  [Not at all.]

  [A-Ah, alright then...]

  He chuckles awkwardly.

  [So, I wanted you to train me. I don't... Have... Any money, but I have some experience in martial arts. I also did the uh, Assessment. Didn't pass, but, nearly.]

  [Okay... I guess I can manage that.]

  Hinozu's eyes light up.

  [Really? Like... Really?]

  [Yeah. Come see me at uh, at the dojang. The address is on our website. I mean, we're open right now, so if you have the time...]

  [Sure, sure! I'll see you there. Thanks!]

  [Yeah... See you then.]

  He hangs up.

  A wide smile spreads through Hinozu's lips as he sets the phone down.

  [Finally.]

  After writing down the address, he closes his laptop.

  Eagerly, he stands up, searching for his best clothes.

  He changes into them.

  A white button-up shirt, with black dress pants and a brown belt.

  Spraying cologne a few times.

  Running down the stairs, almost like a child, and putting on some black leather shoes.

  [Where are you going?]

  He turns around. Jenneah stands with her arms crossed.

  [I...]

  [I'm going for a walk.]

  The old woman raises a brow at his answer.

  [For a walk? Dressed like that?]

  [... Yes.]

  [I'm not believing that. Do you have a girlfriend or something?]

  Hinozu chuckles.

  [No way. Someone like me can't...]

  [Anyways, I'll return soon. Promised.]

  Without waiting for an answer, he leaves the Center, walking briskly towards the dojang.

  After roughly an hour of walking —and combing his hair with his hand— the place can be seen just ahead.

  It looks small but well-kept, though really empty.

  [I guess—]

  A hand shoves him back, throwing him back on an alleyway.

  His head hits the ground.

  A bulky man stands at his feet, arms crossed. Glancing over his back, he sees two other people.

  [So, you're the brat who called for coaching?]

  [W-what's happening? I just—]

  [Listen, man, you can't just phone a coach for classes, without giving anything in return. Are you dumb?]

  The man clicks his tongue, visibly irritated.

  [But you... You said I co—]

  [Alright, alright. Let's do something. If you can beat those two in a fight, I'll coach you, anytime you want, for as long as possible. How's that sound?]

  Hinozu hesitates.

  [... Alright.]

  [That's more like it!]

  A blow hits Hinozu's head, sending him tumbling towards the wall.

  [Dumbass, you just gave us permission to beat your ass.]

  Scrambling up to his feet, he's quickly knocked down by a kick on his leg.

  Curling in, Hinozu tries to protect himself from an unending flurry of kicks.

  [That will teach him a lesson or two. Have some respect for martial arts, brat. Not everyone can do them.]

  The three turn around, leaving for the dojang.

  [I swear... There's some really stupid people.]

  Clenching his jaw, Hinozu stands up.

  Balling his hands into fists, he runs towards them.

  [Here he comes.]

  One of them laughs. Hinozu narrows his eyes.

  I'll show you.

  Pivoting on his left foot, he throws a hook towards one of the guys, making him stumble to the ground.

  [What do you think you're doing?!]

  Arms wrap around him, holding him in place even as he tries to wiggle out.

  And then, knuckles slam against his skull, jerking his neck to the left.

  His vision starts to blur, breath catching in his throat.

  Another punch snaps his head to the other side.

  Another, another, yet another.

  Without rest.

  He finally collapses, going limp as his consciousness fades completely.

  He wakes up, turning a few times before sitting as he looks around in confusion.

  His whole body aches.

  Wincing in pain as he stands up, Hinozu starts walking back home.

  It is still afternoon.

  Curious glances roam over his swollen face.

  Hinozu lowers his head, trying to hide it.

  He nearly stumbles, shoes hitting the pavement.

  Arriving at the Center, he takes off his shoes at the entrance.

  His feet hurt, even on the soft carpet.

  [Didn't have to do that...]

  He mutters under his breath before taking the stairs, hands on the railing as he struggles.

  Opening the door to his room, he steps inside, closing the door behind him.

  Lying on his bed, he lets out a long exhale.

  His lips quiver as he places an arm on his forehead.

  A sob escapes him, followed by a tightening sensation in his chest.

  Tears flow freely from his eyes, soaking the sheets below.

  [Why...?]

  Hinozu whispers, his voice worn.

  [I thought I did it...]

  [I thought I had it figured out...]

  [Figured...]

  His sobs become louder, his face twists in sorrow.

  With tears still spilling free, and his vision blurred, he opens up his notebook, scanning through the pages.

  There, with a shaky hand, he crosses out with his pen.

  RangBokk. Call 3 PM Wednesday.