"How did it feel to win?" It was a weird first choice of words that came out of your friend/mentor's mouth, just as the two of you entered the gym you usually trained at. It was late, practically the only source of light came from one single overhanging bright bulb, and even that's only because you managed to convince the owner of the place to let you and Bruce have the building for a late night spar with the promise of getting him a picture with Bruce.
"It felt good." You answer, bending down and doing some stretches as Bruce did the same in front of you, if not making the act look vastly better than you. "Went thirteen matches and didn't lose a single one, didn't even get scratched."
Bruce gives you that one look that's neither disappointed nor angry, but still carries the same feeling. "Truly?" One little word and yet it carries so much weight.
You sigh, shaking your head as you sit down to stretch. "No. None of the guys there really felt like opponents, just...obstacles you know? I'm not saying they didn't have some talent, but none of them ever felt like a threat. Like they were just there to have fun." It was true, when you'd gotten to the end of the tournament and finally claimed victory it had felt good at first, until you kept playing back all the matches in your mind. You wouldn't claim it was a hollow victory, but it didn't ring true. "I was worried the way I was feeling was me getting cocky and prideful."
At that Bruce smirks. "Those are two feelings that can go hand in hand," He says, moving his own hands to hold one another. "But it is better to keep them separate so you can do more with them." He finishes, moving his hands to his sides as he cracks his knuckles.
"How long do you spend on those little nuggets of wisdom anyways?" You ask jokingly, standing back up and feeling refreshed.
"Not as long as you'd think." Bruce answers, cracking his neck in a way that sound very satisfying. "My master used to say that a teacher does not start to offer wisdom until a truly troublesome or talented student comes before him." He pauses then, smiling fondly at an old memory. "I was both."
You and Bruce stand before one another, and you take note that even if you've got two inches of height on the man he still feels larger than life before you. You both bow and you take up a boxing stance while he moves into his preferred mishmash style. "So aside from talking about the tournament, any other reason you wanted us to come out here?" You asked, more to keep your nerves down with talking rather than actual curiosity.
You move forward, throwing out a quick jab that Bruce dodges like it was moving in slow motion. The follow up jab you send he actually deflects before sending a lightning fast kick your way. You know you aren't dodging that so you bend and take it with your guard, already knowing you're going to feel sore in the morning from this whole thing.
"I heard that your sister is living with you." Bruce answers casually, causing you to falter for a brief second which he capitalizes on by flicking his hand out. Your guard stays true and the worst you get is some sore feeling in your hands. "I also heard she was fired from her job because of your current actions with CBS."
You frown, throwing out a one-two combo that Bruce weaves through before stepping in closer for an uppercut. He blocks it with both hands but to your amazement he uses the momentum of the attack to then leap backwards and create some distance between the two of you. If it weren't so dang cool you'd be mad right now.
"CBS has a lot of pull," You huff out, readjusting your footing. "Even though practically everyone can see they're in the wrong, they don't want to mess with someone that important. So because of something I did," You duck as Bruce sends out a kick, pushing into his guard before going for a blow to his side which he blocks with his elbow and causing you to wince and retreat. "My sister's the one having to pay for it. It's bullshit."
"Life isn't fair, especially to those who try to live a righteous path." Bruce says, bouncing on his feet in the same spot. "Up until now you've been rigid in your belief's like a mighty glacier, it's the reason you were able to handle all those opponents in that tournament." He moves forward and you block the kick that never actually comes, instead he readjusts and slams his fist into your sternum so hard it knocks you back a few feet. "But now you're dealing with something bigger than you and you're melting under the pressure. However a mighty glacier that melts becomes something just as powerful, and vastly more flexible." You throw out a jab and are shocked to see that Bruce just grabs it and keeps it there in his grasp. "You are becoming water, and water can flow or can crash Bruce. It can be still as a pond or a raging as the ocean. You can try grasping it with your hands and it will slip right through, but pour it in a glass and suddenly it IS the glass." He lets go of your hand and you relax as the room just seems to be silent except for your heavy breathing. Bruce stares at you for a few seconds before gesturing at your feet. "Why do you try to remain so rooted to the ground in this fight? You learned how to move from me, so move."
You frown. "I've been boxing more than anything lately, it's the style of fighting I'm used to right now-"
"There is no one style Bruce." He cuts you off. "You take everything you've learned until now and you use it. If the footwork of boxing isn't working for you then use something else. Your punches are quick and powerful, but they're useless if all you do is stand still."
"But I've never tried something like that." You answer. The idea that Bruce is throwing at you is sound, and it makes sense, but implementing that in the middle of a fight? It's dangerous.
"You will never know if it works unless you try. You're walking down a path towards a glorious destination and the road you walk on is hard, but all you're doing is focusing on the destination and not the journey. You ignore the chance to experience things as they come." He smirks then, and you look down to notice that his fist it only an inch away from your unguarded sternum. "Don't focus on one thing, is what I'm saying."
You're of course sent backwards from the punch that hits you like a dump truck, falling to your back before sliding a bit across the floor. Even with the pain though you can't help but go over Bruce's words, and how they apply to both the fight and your current woes with CBS. So, like with almost everything else you've been dealing with lately, you do the one thing you're supposed to do in a situation like this.
You get back up and try again.
Dang it!
