Leon barely moved.
Matt stepped forward again.
"That's enough."
Ryan ignored him.
He shoved Leon a second time, harder.
This time Leon took one step backward.
"Don't do it again," he said.
Ryan lifted both hands.
"Or what?"
Leon looked at him.
There was no threat in his face.
That was the part Ryan would remember later.
No clenched jaw. No narrowed eyes. No dramatic stance. Leon simply looked at him with the exhausted patience of someone watching another person make a mistake that could still be avoided.
Ryan threw a right hand.
It happened so quickly that several students didn't realize it was real until the punch was already moving.
Leon leaned slightly to his left.
That was all.
Ryan's fist passed beside his cheek.
Leon didn't counter.
He didn't even raise his hands.
Ryan turned around.
The gym had become silent.
One of the amateur fighters near the cage whispered, "What was that?"
Ryan heard him.
His ears turned red.
He stepped forward and threw a jab followed immediately by a right cross.
Leon slipped the jab.
The cross missed too.
Ryan threw a hook.
Leon ducked underneath it.
Three punches.
Nothing.
Ryan backed away.
Leon remained exactly where he was.
"Stop," Leon said.
Ryan stared at him.
"What?"
"You're angry now."
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not."
Ryan rushed him.
This time there was no technique in the attack. He came forward with the kind of aggression that worked well against inexperienced fighters who panicked under pressure.
Leon didn't panic.
He stepped diagonally outside Ryan's lead foot, caught the attacking arm near the elbow, and turned his hips.
Ryan suddenly found himself stumbling past him.
He barely stayed upright.
A sound moved through the gym.
Not laughter.
Surprise.
Ryan spun around.
Leon had already released him.
"Again," Ryan said.
Leon shook his head.
"Enough."
"Again."
"No."
Ryan charged.
Leon moved.
One second Ryan was advancing, and the next his feet were gone from underneath him.
His back hit the mat.
Hard.
The impact knocked the air from his lungs.
Nobody spoke.
Leon stood several feet away.
He hadn't followed Ryan to the ground. He hadn't tried to strike him. He simply waited.
Ryan sat up.
His face had changed.
The embarrassment was worse because no one had cheered. If the students had laughed, he could have become angry with them. Instead, fourteen people stared at him with the same uncomfortable realization.
Their coach hadn't slipped.
Leon had put him there.
Ryan climbed to his feet.
"Lucky."
Leon glanced toward the mop lying against the wall.
"Okay."
That answer made things worse.
Ryan raised his hands.
This time he moved more carefully.
He circled.
Leon didn't adopt a conventional fighting stance. His hands remained low, his shoulders relaxed. Yet every time Ryan shifted his weight, Leon's position changed by an inch or two.
Matt noticed first.
His eyes narrowed.
Ryan feinted.
Leon didn't react.
Ryan kicked toward the outside of Leon's leg.
Leon withdrew his foot before the kick landed.
Ryan followed with a jab.
Miss.
Cross.
Miss.
Hook.
Nothing.
Leon was never where Ryan expected him to be.