There’s a few more students than we're used to.

About a dozen or so folding chairs lined around the ring. Notebooks out. Pens ready.

One of the newer kids leans over:

"…are we allowed to—"

"Shhh!"

Graves is already in the ring.

Arms crossed.

And staring at them like they’re meatbags who just learned how to sit upright.

Miss Furry’s in the ring too, rolling her shoulders and loosening her wrists.

Graves exhales sharply.

"Alright. Since apparently we’re a school and schools are required to teach shit."

He waves vaguely towards all of them.

"Today we’re doin’ somethin’ stupid."

He points at Furry.

"And you. You got a big match coming up, so pay EXTRA attention!"

She doesn’t even look at him.

"I always do."

He cracks his neck.

"Collar-and-elbow. Lock up proper. Right hand here!"

He grabs his own collar.

"Left on the elbow."

He taps it.

"Are you even listening!?"

Furry finally looks up...

Smiling.

"You? Teaching fundamentals?"

She tilts her head.

"That’s like listening to a chainsaw explain stealth."

Graves shouts a a single—"HA!"

Then straightens.

"Oh I can do it."

Steps closer.

"I’m incredible at it."

Leans in a little.

"I just don’t respect it."

And straightens again.

"Collar-and-elbow was invented for pussies."

A student shifts uncomfortably.

Graves keeps going anyway.

"Little tiny farmers. Starvin’-ass dummies. Didn’t wanna get hit 'cause they were frail little bitches."

He lets it sit.

"So they invented a chicken-shit way to fight... where nobody actually fights!"

He turns back to Furry.

"It’s for the bitch-mades."

Furry steps into him.

Real close-like.

"So it’s for me."

Graves leans down just a little.

"You said it..."

They’re too close now.

Not demonstration close.

Fight close.

"Then show me."

One of the students shifts in his chair.

"…uh, should we—"

"Don’t."

Graves doesn’t break eye contact.

"Lock up!"

They snap into it.

Hard.

No easing in.

Graves drives forward.

Furry lets him.

Then turns it into a quick trip!

He stumbles.

"There!"

He jumps back upright.

"Again."

They lock-up again.

This time he doesn’t rush her.

Furry adjusts, waiting for the overcommit.

But it doesn’t come.

"…huh?"

"Yeah."

He shoves her.

But not forward—sideways and at a weird angle.

She takes control and tries to spin him.

But he just lets go and she falls.

"…what?"

"You’re waitin’ for me to fuck up."

He shrugs.

"I don’t gotta."

That… actually annoys her.

"That’s not how this works."

"It is for me."

She steps in again, faster this time.

Grabs the collar and pulls, trying to force the exchange.

Graves absorbs it.

Doesn’t fight it.

Doesn’t help it.

He just stands there dead weighting her.

"You’re ruining it."

"Yep."

She stops.

"…oh."

Now she gets it.

"You’re not losing the exchange."

He tilts his head.

"You’re refusing to have one in the first place."

Graves grins.

"There she is!"

The tension breaks, but it's not gone yet.

"That’s stupid."

"It works."

He taps her shoulder.

"You punish mistakes, right?"

"Yeah..?"

"Well—I punish assumptions."

She huffs.

"…you’re annoying."

"Yeah."

He turns away and exits the ring.

"Go win our belt back."

She watches him go for a second.

Then looks at the students.

"Write this down."

She gives them time to ready their pens.

"If they're waiting for you to engage...

Don’t."

A student raises a hand.

"…So we should run instead?"

Graves shouts from a distance.

"ONLY PUSSIES CONSIDER RUNNIN'!"

Furry frowns.

"Idiot!"

She taps her notebook with a pen.

"You're expelled."