Winning By Losing

I had kept this secret for years.

Eventually just burying it as the people involved were no longer around, and the dojo had moved on from the memory that I brought on it.

Only myself and my teacher now remained.

Secrets can’t exist between a teacher and a student, and now was the time as it would no longer disturb the harmony of the dojo.

When I told my teacher why I did what I did, at first, he pretended not to remember. That might have worked years ago, but I kept pressing.

Yes, he did remember, and he figured there must have been another part to the story since what happened didn’t make sense.

He didn’t see it as a secret, but rather something I would tell him when the time was right.

I was put in charge of the Wednesday night class and it was a very tight window of training in the shared space. There was a class before and after ours, so it was important to get in and out quickly, quietly, and with no distractions.

The timing of the class after ours was especially challenging.

If our class was late ending, or we lingered on the dojo floor, that means their class starts late and has less time to train.

Maintaining good relations with the other schools in the space was important.

For all of us.

My teacher was very insistent on this.

I’d end the class a few minutes early, get us off the floor and changed, and answered any questions outside the dojo.

It wasn’t ideal, but it was an extra hour of training each week.

I was a bit surprised when my teacher called me to attend a meeting between him and the other group’s teacher that shared the Thursday space.

Was it for the upcoming New Year’s celebration?

When I walked into the room, clearly it was not.

There was my teacher, the teacher of the Wednesday night class, who like me was a senior student of their dojo, and the head teacher of their dojo.

I immediately knew why I was here.

I was surprised as I had given him an out, and this is what he wanted to do rather than take it?

The other teacher opened with the Wednesday night classes were becoming problematic. That our group was noisy and disruptive, that we ended late and cut into our class time.

That our school was breaking the agreement of the studio.

My teacher just listened and nodded.

The senior student who taught their Wednesday night class was next. Directly accusing us of being disrespectful of their school by being noisy and not exiting the floor on time.

I just listened and took it.

I’d apologize, eat it, and we would move on.

Wednesday night’s training was important, it was a good experience for me as a senior in the dojo, and the extra training was really helping the student’s that needed it.

My apology was all ready to go, and I could see my teacher’s silence to all of it confirmed that was the correct course of action.

But, when the other senior student accused my teacher’s students of being disrespectful, I couldn’t have that.

It just kind of came out.

Honestly.

I called him a liar.

I could feel my teacher pull in his breath.

Any other statement or accusation we could back down from, but not this.

After explaining my side of how we conducted ourselves, it was now up to my teacher and their teacher to decide on the course of action.

New rules were laid out for Wednesday and agreed on, which were the same as the old rules for Wednesday, but that point was settled.

The next point to settle was between the schools and both teachers agreed that we would have a shiai right now to resolve it.

Myself as the senior student from our school, and the other Wednesday night senior student from their school.

Get changed and in five minutes be on the dojo floor.

In the few moments before we began, what did I know about the situation?

I knew my personal reputation in the matter was last.

That the continuation of Wednesday as a time to train for the junior students was the priority.

I knew that the sempai across from me was used to getting hit hard.

And that from the way he carried his shoulders he was forcing his starting posture, that he didn’t want to be here either.  

Hajime!

On the first pass we both took a few hits.

Nothing catastrophic, but enough to signal that we both had time in with the martial arts.

Now on the opposite side of the dojo, standing next to the opposing teacher, I wanted to look at him, to meet his eyes and let him know.

On the second pass punches and kicks found empty air.

One more pass to make it happen.

I took a few more hits, but moved so they glanced off me.

That was the best I could do.

We could say it was a draw.

They could say they won.

Either way, the matter was settled and we could get back to Wednesday night training.  

Now all these years later the secret was out, and my teacher knew why I wasn’t myself that night of the shiai.

If I was myself it would have led to another secret coming out, one that wasn’t my place to reveal, and in doing so it would have disrupted the training of both schools.