On a bench, beneath the darkening sky, he contemplated his future. The dream of making his mother proud, which had once burned bright, now seemed distant and unattainable. His next steps remained unclear, but one thing was certain: he couldn't return to the apartment, not after the night's tumultuous events. 

Recalling Mr Otomi's words about his unwavering support, James made a decision. With determination, he rose from the bench and began his journey to Mr. Otomi's apartment, seeking solace and guidance in the face of his uncertain future.

James knocked on the door, hoping that his trainer hadn’t fallen asleep, James began to worry that he might have to sleep on the streets for the night. 

Mr Otomi answered the door, concerned at the sight of James at the door. “Jamie? What are you doing here.” Mr. Otomi said with concern in his voice. 

“Can I come in, Sir?” Tears began streaming down James's face out of a mixture of embarrassment and desperation. 

Mr Otomi was shocked by his apprentice's request. “Of course, Jamie, come in.” Mr. Otomi moved to the side to let James through the doorframe. 

James entered the old man's apartment. Walking through the apartment James was shocked to find that the mountains of beer cans which was there previously had disappeared. James did find it weird that two weeks into his training Mr. Otomi stopped requiring beer cans from James. 

Seated on the sofa in Mr. Otomi’s comfortable living room, James recounted the harrowing events that had recently unfolded. Mr. Otomi listened with rapt attention, offering words of comfort and solace as the story unfolded. 

"James, I'm so sorry you had to go through that," Mr. Otomi began, his voice laced with empathy. "You did what you thought was right in the heat of the moment. Your mother is hurt and confused, and it might take time for her to understand. Right now, you need to focus on your own well-being and safety. You can stay here for as long as you want, and we'll figure things out together."

James felt a wave of relief wash over him as Mr Otomi reassured him and provided shelter. The burden on his shoulders seemed to ease, if only for the moment. The kindness and understanding his trainer showed him during this trying time were deeply appreciated.

In the following days, James remained in the sanctuary of Mr. Otomi's residence. Their training sessions became a way for James to channel the tumultuous emotions he carried. Mr. Otomi emphasized self-care and encouraged James to use his passion for martial arts as a constructive outlet for his feelings. However, anger still consumed James whenever he swung his sword.

After a rigorous training session, James and Mr Otomi made their way back to the apartment. A nearby window reflected James's troubled expression back at him, a stark reminder of the turmoil within. The words his mother had spoken continued to echo in his mind.

Mr Otomi, noticing James's internal struggle, spoke gently as he placed a hand on his student's shoulder. "Listen, James," he said, locking eyes with him. "You've been given an incredible gift - the ability to express yourself through Booster Fighting. Don't let anger take that away from you."

James, his expression numb, knocked Mr. Otomi's hand off his shoulder and stormed into the apartment, locking himself in the spare room. The impending fight loomed ahead, with each passing day bringing it closer.

As night fell, Mr. Otomi lay in his bed, his thoughts consumed by the heartbreaking situation James found himself in. He couldn't help but wonder how a mother could treat her own son in such a way.

The following morning, as the sun's first rays began to stretch across the land, Mr. Otomi quietly prepared breakfast. He decided to check on James, who had spent the night in seclusion. He knocked softly on the door of the spare room. "James?"

A moment of silence, then a muffled response from James, "I'm not hungry."

Mr. Otomi sighed softly, realizing that this was about more than food. "This isn’t for food, James," he said, his tone gentle yet firm. The door creaked open slightly, revealing James's tired and puffy-eyed face. A mixture of sadness and frustration danced in his eyes.

"Come on, get your equipment," Mr. Otomi said, urging James to follow him.

James, still weighed down by the previous night's emotions, rubbed his eyes and nodded silently. He retreated back into his room to prepare. In the kitchen, Mr. Otomi prepared a water bottle and a small package, setting them aside for later.

A short while later, James emerged, his demeanour reflecting the weight of his emotions. He was dressed in his training gear, his katana strapped securely to his back. He appeared ready for training, even though the emotions of the previous night still clung to him. 

Mr Otomi nodded in approval. "Now, let's head to the training ground." Together, they exited the apartment building, venturing into the cool morning air, which served as a stark contrast to the heated emotions that had engulfed James in the previous days. Their destination was the secluded training ground, a place where James had spent countless hours honing his skills.

Mr Otomi extended the water bottle toward James. "Drink up. We're going to train, but I don't want you to push yourself too hard. The second round is tomorrow."

James accepted the water and the enigmatic plan with gratitude but curiosity knitted his brows. "Thank you, Mr. Otomi, but why so early?"

Mr. Otomi's eyes held a transition from benevolence to resolve as they locked onto James's. "Because your emotions can either be your greatest ally or your most dangerous foe. We need to learn how to harness those emotions and channel them into our training and techniques. That's what will set you apart in the arena." As he completed his sentence, he pressed the red button on his NuroLink.

"Get ready, James."

Without any forewarning, Mr. Otomi sprang into action, a flurry of motion and precision. James, taken off guard, had his reflexes jolt into action as he raised his arms into a cross-arm guard. Just in time, his defensive posture intercepted Mr. Otomi's rapid attack. 

"In the arena," Mr. Otomi advised, "your opponents will be driven by their emotions too. They might try to taunt you, to disrupt your focus. Your ability to maintain composure, to stay focused and in control, will be your most potent weapon."

The collision of their moves echoed through James's arms, yet he remained steadfast. "You just don't understand!" James's voice resonated with exasperation. In a split-second decision, he propelled himself over Mr. Otomi's head, executing the same 180-degree twist that had won him the fight against Edmund. He closed the gap swiftly and launched a strike. 

Responding to James's anger and frustration, Mr Otomi spun around with astonishing agility. He adeptly guarded James's strike, counterattacking and driving James back. As their movements intersected, Mr. Otomi sensed the intense emotional turmoil that James had bottled up. "James," he said in a calm yet unwavering tone, "I know it's challenging, but you can't allow this anger to consume you."

Upon realizing the tempest of emotions swirling within James, Mr. Otomi decided to adapt his training strategy. When they re-engaged, Mr Otomi boosted towards James, but then abruptly changed his trajectory, enticing James to swing. Responding to Mr Otomi's unexpected manoeuvre, James delivered a powerful strike with his katana. However, the momentum of his attack left him momentarily exposed. Mr Otomi capitalized on this opportunity with finesse, making use of the opening in James's defence. He shifted his katana fluidly and executed a controlled strike against James's side. The precise strike served as a poignant reminder of how even a slight lapse in focus could lead to dire consequences in a real combat situation.

James staggered slightly, caught off guard by Mr. Otomi's well-calculated move. His breaths were heavy, and he grappled with a mix of frustration and revelation. As he lowered his katana, his anger started to wane, and he regarded Mr. Otomi, who stood before him.

“Remember why you're doing this. When you first came to me, your goal was to prove to this world that, regardless of your social class, you can make it.” James absorbed his teacher's words, recognizing their wisdom. “This anger won't make you a better fighter. As long as you hold onto the hatred, you'll never achieve your full potential.”

Mr Otomi's words struck a chord deep within James. He felt the burden of his emotions gradually lifting, replaced by a revitalized sense of determination. He nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. “You're right, Mr. Otomi. I can't let this anger define me.” He loosened his grip on the katana, inhaled deeply, and centred himself.

Mr. Otomi's expression softened, and a faint smile touched his lips. “I know it's not easy, James. But the path you've chosen is one of discipline, control, and growth. How you overcome these challenges will determine your success.”

James met his teacher's gaze with a newfound resolve. “I won't let this anger consume me. I'll use it to fuel my training, to become better, and to prove to everyone that I'm more than the circumstances I come from.”

Mr. Otomi's smile widened. “That's the spirit, James. Now, let's return to our training, this time focusing on precision and control. Remember, it's not just about the strength of your strikes but the finesse with which you execute them.”

With a nod, James readied his katana, his mind clear, and his heart unwavering. As they resumed their training, James realized that he wasn't only refining his physical skills but also strengthening his inner resolve. The arena loomed on the horizon, and he was determined to face it with a profound sense of purpose and control. As the sun dipped below the horizon, James and Mr Otomi concluded their training session, preparing for the significant fight awaiting them on the morrow.

The next day, James and Mr. Otomi headed toward the arena. James was mentally preparing for his fight, his focus unwavering. As they made their way, James couldn't help but feel nervous. "Mr. Otomi, what do we know about my opponent?" James inquired, his voice steady despite the underlying tension.

Mr Otomi had a thoughtful expression on his face. "I gave my friend on the board a call last night, and this opponent isn't a pushover. His name is Joshua Croxton, a two-time Ohio Booster Fighting champ. But don't worry too much; the Booster Fighting scene there isn't of the highest quality. James, you need to go in with a clear mind and play your game."

A small smile crossed Mr Otomi's lips as he looked at James, his confidence in his pupil unwavering. James nodded, he knew that while his opponent's record was impressive, he couldn't let it shake his own determination. 

"I understand, Mr. Otomi," James replied, his voice filled with determination. “I won't let his reputation intimidate me." As they approached the arena, the energy in the air grew more palpable. James was ready to step into the arena, face his opponent, and prove himself once again. 

After witnessing another dominating performance by Paul Jones, James readied himself for his fight. As he made his way down to the ring, any lingering nervousness vanished. Meeting Joshua, his opponent, in the ring, the referee initiated the countdown.

"Time for you to see what us Ohio boys do!" Joshua shouted confidently as the ref counted down from one. Without hesitation, Joshua darted forward directly toward James, his sword poised to slash. Reacting swiftly, James prepared his sword in a defensive stance, effectively stopping Joshua's attack in its tracks. 

Joshua quickly backed away from James, taunting, "Looks like you're fast, but you're going to need more than that to win."

James couldn't help but smirk in response. "Good thing I've got more up my sleeve." He boosted toward Joshua, deliberately baiting him. As James closed the distance, Joshua boosted to the side, attempting to land a counter-slash. Anticipating this move, James came to a sudden stop, delivering a swift kick to Joshua's leg, catching him off balance. 

Joshua tumbled to the ground, and without hesitation, James executed a precise slash to his opponent's stomach. The referee promptly declared, "Winner, one point, James Cooter!" The crowd erupted in cheers, celebrating James's skill and strategy.

"Stupid poor boy. Tryna make a fool outta me?" Joshua seethed as he jumped to his feet and returned to the centre of the ring. "Imma make you pay!" he shouted at James.

James remained focused as the referee signalled for the fight to continue. He boosted to the outskirts of the ring, taunting Joshua to follow him. Falling for the bait, Joshua charged forward, his attention solely on James. 

James waited patiently for Joshua to draw near, recalling a move Mr Otomi had taught him. With a slow, deliberate inhale, James steeled himself. Time seemed to stand still as he exhaled, and with astounding speed, he boosted toward Joshua, swinging his sword with precision. The blade landed on Joshua, and James spun to evade Joshua's retaliatory attack.

The crowd fell silent, the once-roaring audience now amplifying Joshua's fall to the floor. "Medic!" the referee urgently called out across the arena. The crowd erupted into cheers once more.

"Winner by knockout!" the referee declared, lifting James's arm into the air. The crowd's cheers grew even louder, celebrating James's impressive victory in the arena. The medics swiftly entered the ring, carrying the unconscious Joshua out on a stretcher. James had secured his place in the quarter-finals with a two-week break from competition ahead. 

Upon returning to the locker room, Mr. Otomi greeted James with a warm smile. "I'm proud of you, James. You kept your emotions in check, and look at what you accomplished." James returned the smile, saying, "Thank you. That move really helped me out there." They both shared a laugh. "Let's get out of here, boy," Mr. Otomi suggested.