James sighed and approached the sofa, taking a seat beside his mentor. "She's recovering," he replied, his voice reflecting the concern he still felt. "She fainted from exhaustion. I stayed with her until she woke up. It was the right thing to do."

Mr Otomi nodded approvingly. "You showed compassion, James. That's important, even in the heat of competition. It's a quality that will serve you well, both in Booster Fighting and in life."

James appreciated Mr. Otomi's understanding. "Thanks, Mr. Otomi," he said sincerely. "I just hope she gets better soon. She's a tough fighter, and I'd hate to see her sidelined like this."

Their attention returned to the TV, where the interview continued to play. The events of the day had left James emotionally drained, but he knew he had to focus on the upcoming semi-final match. The competition was getting tougher, and he couldn't afford to let his guard down.

As the interview concluded on the TV, Mr. Otomi turned it off and turned to James. "Rest up, James. Tomorrow is another day of training, and we need to be prepared for whatever challenges lie ahead."

James nodded, feeling grateful for Mr. Otomi's guidance and support. "I will, Mr. Otomi. I'm ready to keep pushing forward."

After a couple days of training, James decided to take a break from his intense regimen. He wanted some fresh air and a change of scenery. So, he put on a casual outfit and left Mr. Otomi's apartment, intending to take a leisurely walk around the small town where they lived.

As he strolled through the peaceful neighbourhood, he couldn't help but let his mind wander. Thoughts of the upcoming semi-final match, the media attention, and his unexpected encounter with Amy over the past week swirled in his head. He wondered how she was doing and whether she had fully recovered.

As he turned a corner, he suddenly bumped into someone. Startled, he looked up to see a familiar face, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Amy?" he exclaimed in surprise.

Amy, who had also been lost in her thoughts, looked equally shocked. "James?"

They both broke into smiles, the tension from their previous match dissipating in an instant. It was a strange but delightful feeling to meet outside the intense atmosphere of the Booster Fighting arena.

"I didn't expect to run into you here," Amy said with a chuckle.

James rubbed the back of his head, feeling a bit sheepish. "Yeah, same here. I was just taking a walk to clear my head."

They fell into an easy conversation, catching up on how they had been since their last encounter. Amy shared some of her experiences in the hospital and how her recovery was progressing. James listened attentively, genuinely concerned for her well-being.

As they continued to talk, the initial awkwardness melted away. They discovered they had more in common than just their shared passion for Booster Fighting. Their conversation flowed naturally, and they found themselves laughing and enjoying each other's company.

After a while, Amy hesitated for a moment before suggesting, "You know, James, I've been cooped up in that hospital for days. Would you like to grab a coffee or something? Just as a thank you for being there for me."

James couldn't hide his surprise at the unexpected invitation, but he quickly agreed, "Sure, I'd love to."

They walked to a nearby café, continuing their conversation over coffee and pastries. The date felt surprisingly comfortable as if they had known each other for much longer than they actually had.

“So, James, why did you become a booster fighter?” Amy asked curiously. 

James paused for a moment, contemplating Amy's question. It was a simple yet profound query that often made him reflect on his journey.

"Well," he began, "I became a booster fighter for a few reasons. First and foremost, it's because of Mr. Otomi, my coach. He saw something in me and believed that I could make it in this world. He's been like a father figure to me."

Amy nodded, clearly understanding the significance of having a mentor like Mr. Otomi.

"But it's more than that," James continued. "Growing up, I faced a lot of challenges and adversity. I came from a place where opportunities were scarce, and most people like me didn't get a chance to pursue their dreams. I wanted to prove that it doesn't matter where you come from; you can still make something of yourself if you work hard and never give up."

Amy listened intently, her curiosity growing.

"And there's something about the rush of being in the arena," James added with a smile. "It's like nothing else. It's a test of not just physical strength but mental fortitude. You have to stay focused, stay in control, and make split-second decisions. I thrive on that challenge."

Amy nodded again, her green eyes reflecting a newfound respect for James and his motivations.

"And what about you?" James asked, turning the question back to Amy. "Why did you become a booster fighter?"

Amy's gaze softened as she considered her response. "Well, I've always been drawn to the spotlight, to performing. Music was my first love, and it still is. But there's something about booster fighting that's electrifying. It's like a different kind of stage, a different way to express myself and push my limits."

She looked down at her hands, her silver hair falling around her face. "I wanted to show people that I could do more than just sing and dance. I wanted to challenge myself and prove that I'm not just a popstar, that I can be a fighter too."

Their motivations, while different, held a common thread of determination and the desire to break boundaries. It was a connection that James and Amy shared, one that transcended the competition they had faced in the arena.

As the afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the café, James and Amy's conversation had drawn to a close. They'd shared stories, laughter, and a newfound understanding of each other. It was time to part ways, at least for now.

Amy smiled, her green eyes sparkling with sincerity. "James, I'm really glad we bumped into each other today. This has been... different, in a good way."

James returned her smile, feeling a genuine connection that transcended their roles as booster fighters. "Yeah, it's been a nice change of pace," he agreed.

Amy reached into her bag and pulled out a small notepad and pen. She scribbled down a set of numbers. "Here," she said, tearing off the paper and handing it to James. "That's my number. If you ever want to chat, or maybe meet up again sometime, just give me a call."

James took the paper, his heart feeling lighter at the thought of staying in touch with her. "I'll definitely keep that in mind, Amy. It'd be nice."

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Amy leaned in and planted a soft, friendly kiss on James's cheek. "Take care, James Cooter. I'll be rooting for you in the semis."

James blushed, a warmth spreading through him. "You too, Amy Smyth. Best of luck with your booster fighting journey."

With one last smile and a wave, Amy turned and headed off, disappearing into the bustling city that boarded James’s small town. James watched her go, feeling grateful for the unexpected encounter and the connection they'd formed. Then, with her number safely tucked away in his pocket, he too continued on his way, looking forward to the next chapter in his booster fighting journey.

In the semi-final clash against his formidable opponent, Juan Rada, James displayed remarkable resilience and skill. The atmosphere within the booster fighting arena was electric, charged with anticipation as the audience witnessed this intense battle unfold.

The first round had been fiercely contested, with both fighters pushing their limits. It was in this round that James, perhaps due to the initial jitters, had faltered momentarily. A swift and precise manoeuvre from Juan Rada had earned him a crucial point, and the scoreboard displayed an unsettling 1-0 lead in favour of James's opponent.

However, James was not one to be easily discouraged. He had trained tirelessly for this moment, and as the second round commenced, he showed his dominance in the arena. His movements were precise, his strikes well-timed, and he fought with an intensity that left the crowd in awe. With a combination of acrobatic flips and swift swordplay, he swiftly turned the tables.

By the end of the third round, the score had shifted dramatically. James had landed two powerful strikes. The scoreboard now read 2-1, with James in the lead.

As the final round began, James felt a surge of determination. He was so close to securing his place in the finals, and his training had brought him to this point. Ready to finish his opponent and make his mark in the world of booster fighting, James performed an impressive aerial manoeuvre. He boosted into the air, executing twists and turns that left the audience breathless.

With his katana raised high, poised for a decisive strike, James locked onto his opponent. But in that crucial moment, as he focused all his energy on the impending victory, his concentration was shattered. A familiar face had appeared in the crowd, one that he hadn't expected to see here.

It was his mother.

Seeing her amidst the cheering spectators, James's heart skipped a beat. Conflicting emotions surged within him. His mother, who had kicked him out of his own home, was now here, watching him perform at the highest level. The distraction was enough for Juan Rada to leap back, readying a defensive stance just in time to block James's intended finishing blow.

The crowd roared, sensing the shift in momentum. James, torn between the anger he felt for his mother and the need to secure his victory, now faced a dilemma that could decide the outcome of the match.

In that electrifying moment of the semi-final clash, James's world seemed to collide with his past. His katana gleamed under the arena's blazing lights as it hung in the air, an embodiment of his focused determination. But a single glimpse of his mother amidst the sea of spectators shattered his concentration.

It was a jarring sight, one he hadn't anticipated. Memories of the heated argument, tearful goodbye, and a painful estrangement surged through his mind. His mother, who had once cast him out of his own home because he tried protecting her, was now here, watching him at the pinnacle of his career.

Conflicting emotions stormed within him. Anger, sadness, and a burning desire to prove himself all coursed through his veins. The crowd's cheers and the opponent's defensive posture became distant background noise as James grappled with this unexpected intrusion from his past.

Juan Rada, sensing the sudden shift in James's demeanour, didn't waste a second. With an agile leap backwards, he assumed a solid defensive stance, raising his sword to guard against whatever James might unleash.

The audience was on the edge of their seats, unknowingly witnessing a battle that extended beyond the arena floor. In the clash of emotions and determination, James found clarity. He couldn't let his past dictate his present, nor could he allow this moment to slip away.

With a deep breath, James steadied himself. In that moment of realization, his katana became an extension of his will. Swift as lightning, he boosted towards Juan Rada, katana glinting like a streak of silver. His focus was unwavering, his movements precise.

Juan Rada fought valiantly, parrying with all his might, but James was relentless. With each strike, he carved a path towards victory. His katana found its mark, striking the opponent's sword with such force that it was sent spinning from Juan Rada's hand.

James didn't hesitate; he seized the opportunity. In one seamless motion, he positioned himself for the final blow. His katana descended like a shooting star, landing on Juan Rada's chest protector with a resounding thud.

The referee's voice rang through the arena, "Winner, James Cooter!"

The crowd erupted in a thunderous cheer. James had conquered not only his opponent but also the inner turmoil that threatened to derail him.

As he stood victorious, his gaze briefly returned to his mother in the crowd, their eyes locking for an intense moment. Then, with a look of pity, he turned away, leaving behind the past that had held him back for far too long.

The adrenaline that had surged through James during his intense match now coursed through him for entirely different reasons. He couldn't believe his eyes when he spotted his mother in the presence of the last person he expected: Amy. His shock quickly transformed into a potent anger.

In the dimly lit corridor, Amy appeared in the doorway, her expression a blend of surprise and concern. She wasn't prepared for the explosion of emotion that followed.

James, his chest heaving with indignation, took a double-take, his eyes widening with disgust as they fell upon his mother, an unwelcome figure from his tumultuous past. His feelings of betrayal surged, and he couldn't help but let out an expletive-laden tirade.

"What the hell is she doing here?" James spat out the words, his tone laced with loathing. He had spent weeks trying to distance himself from the painful memories associated with his mother, and her sudden appearance felt like a nightmarish intrusion.

"James, please let me talk," his mother mumbled, her voice trembling with regret.

"Shut up!" James thundered. He had no desire to hear anything she had to say.

Turning away from his mother, his gaze now squarely fixed on Amy, he demanded answers. The anger that had been directed at his mother now shifted to his companion.

"Are you responsible for her being here?" James's voice was sharp, filled with an accusation that had no room for understanding. His eyes bore into Amy, awaiting an explanation that could justify this inexplicable turn of events...

James's question hung in the air, the tension palpable. The corridor seemed to narrow around them as if the world outside this heated exchange had faded into insignificance.

Her silver hair framed her face, and Amy took a steadying breath, her thoughts racing. She didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. James's feelings were raw and intense. She had unwittingly brought his estranged mother back into his life, a woman he clearly had a painful history.

But Amy was not the instigator here. She had no idea that James would have this reaction. Her lips parted to speak, her voice soft and measured.

"James, I had no idea you had such bad blood with your mother," she began, her words carrying a sincerity that was evident in her gaze. "I just wanted to do something nice for you. I swear."

James spoke with a hint of regret, realizing the weight of his words. "I know, Amy. I'm sorry, but you're getting involved in a situation you know nothing about."

Amy felt hurt by James's words, but she understood his turmoil. She nodded slowly, her silver hair falling gracefully around her face. James, in turn, shifted his attention back to his mother, his emotions a mix of calm anger.