Free Breakfall by Kate Pavelle Page B

what was left of his gaze with a forced smile.
    “Mourn him, Asbjorn. You say you’re useless—then I’m useless too, because neither one of us can bring him back.” She glanced over Asbjorn’s shoulder. “You have a friend here who may need to be reassured that you’re all right. You may feel you’re alone—but you’re not.”
    “Oh?” He turned with painful care to follow her gaze.
    Sean huddled under his winter jacket. His face was ashen and hands were still red with Asbjorn’s blood.
    “He took care of that guy who blindsided you.”
     
     
    S EAN ’ S BREATHING steadied as he focused on his one point, centering himself with every breath. His reaction to the fight took him by surprise, and he turned his feelings over and over in his mind. Two guys fought and beat one another up. Their tension was, one would hope, resolved. They would hopefully go back to being friends again. They apparently both suffered Tiger’s loss. One felt guilty for being part of it—he provided Tiger with the means of his untimely demise. The other felt…. How did Asbjorn feel, really? Sean thought back to when his mother died.
    It all happened so fast. The sixth child was going to be her last, and her pregnancy was going well. Then there was a clot, and a hospital stay, and a feeling of a desperate, helpless kind of fury. And fear—so much fear. She died in her sleep three weeks later, and Sean spent hours, days walking through San Diego, aimless, seeking somebody to blame.
    Sean’s gaze wandered over to Nell, who still knelt over Asbjorn. It had been almost half an hour. Perhaps they should…. Wait. A movement. Relief washed over him as he saw Asbjorn sit up carefully, gingerly. He saw Nell look his way and soon Sean felt Asbjorn’s eyes on him. He didn’t want to meet his gaze.
    During one of his aimless walks, Sean strayed to one of the worst neighborhoods. Violence was rare where he lived, but if one sought it out, it came. Insulting two local guys down on their luck, their breath heavy with liquor, Sean thought he’d finally found a target for his pain.
    Unfortunately, so did they. He looked just about as bad as Asbjorn was looking right now when the short, raven-haired man showed up. Like northern wind ripping through a forest, he removed the two assailants from Sean and blew them away, not allowing them to remain entirely whole at the end of their brief journey.
    Then he took Sean back home to his father. They talked. Burrows-sensei allowed himself to be the target of his anger and his pain, and he absorbed it—reshaped it—over time. Sean felt immeasurable love for the pale, quiet man. To Asbjorn, Tiger must have been much like Burrows-sensei.
    After standing up and removing his winter jacket, Sean walked over to the empty end of the ring, took a few quick steps, and threw himself into the air. He flew, tucking, and the outer edge of his right hand touched the hard, cold concrete and rolled only to stand up again. He did another ukemi, and another, until his anxiety was spent and his center was his own to command once again.
    “Rolling on the ground will bring you back to your center. The reason for this is unknown—but if you cannot roll, even pretending you have rolled will help. It is much like rebooting a computer, Sean.”
    The echo of his teacher’s voice still resounded in his mind as Sean approached Asbjorn. “How do you feel?”
    One blue eye met his tentative look and held it. Asbjorn’s trademark grin was but a painful grimace. “I’ve been worse.”
    “Are we ready to go?”
    “I think so. Nell?” He quirked a split eyebrow at Nell.
    “Whenever you’re ready.”
    Asbjorn stood slowly and wavered.
    Sean slid to his side, offering support. “What is it, Asbjorn?”
    “Eh… just a bit dizzy. A bit pukey, too. And my fucking side hurts.”
    Nell stood, gathering her first aid kit. “I can’t really check you for a concussion with your eye swollen shut. You should go to the hospital, just