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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - MUCH-NEEDED ADVICE
🕑 Added 2025-01-07 17:22:03 +0000 UTCThe dojo was quiet, dimly lit by the soft glow of old lanterns hanging along the walls. The faint echoes of distant sparring drifted from another room, but tonight, the main hall was empty. Only Hiro stood at the center, his posture relaxed, yet his presence radiated the same quiet intensity that had drawn Taylor to train here in the first place.
“You’re late,” Hiro said without looking up, his sharp eyes focused on carefully tying the sash of his gi.
“Yeah,” Taylor replied, dropping her bag near the door. “Had some… stuff to deal with.”
Hiro glanced at her, his gaze keen, as if he could read more from her stance and tone than she wanted to reveal. He didn’t ask questions, though. He rarely did.
Their spar started, as it always did recently, with Hiro on the offensive—with a swinging wooden training sword—and Taylor on the defensive, her wooden baton held ready. They had switched to weapon training after Taylor proved herself capable of holding her own against him in unarmed sparring.
She stepped back, raising the baton to deflect his strike, the sharp crack of wood on wood echoing through the dojo. Hiro’s movements were fluid, almost effortless, each strike a calculated test of her reflexes and balance.
Taylor’s grip tightened on the baton as she sidestepped his next swing, the sword missing her by inches. She tried to counter, aiming a quick jab at his side, but Hiro anticipated the move, pivoting gracefully out of her reach.
“You’re distracted,” he said, his voice even, almost detached. “Your mind isn’t where it should be.”
Taylor ducked under the retaliation, her feet sliding into a defensive stance as Hiro circled her. His movements were slow and deliberate, but Taylor knew better—his sharp gaze told her he was reading every inch of her posture, every shift in her weight. Behind the calm façade was a man who could dismantle her defences in a heartbeat.
“Your form is tight,” Hiro observed. “Too tight.”
Taylor frowned, her baton raised defensively. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
Hiro stopped, lowering the training sword. “Discipline is essential,” he explained, “but rigidity is a weakness. When you force something to conform, you limit its ability to adapt.”
Taylor exhaled through her nose, dropping her stance and lowering her baton slightly. “I know what I’m supposed to do, but it’s like… it’s not working anymore,” she said, keeping her voice neutral. “Like, no matter how hard I try, it slips through my fingers.”
Hiro studied her for a moment, then stepped closer. “You’re thinking too much. Fighting isn’t about rigid control. It’s about flow.”
Taylor hesitated, his words sinking in. “So, what? I’m supposed to just let it happen?”
“You’re supposed to trust yourself.” Hiro moved to the side, circling her. “You’ve trained your body, learned the techniques. But you’re letting doubt get in the way. Control isn’t about perfection—it’s about resilience. When something changes, you adapt. You don’t fight the current. You move with it.”
Taylor frowned. “I don’t know if I’m ready to trust myself again. Not after everything.”
“It’s not about being ready. It’s about doing it anyway.”
“That’s not exactly reassuring.”
Hiro stepped back, giving her space. “It isn’t meant to be.” He gestured for her to take a stance. “Come on, let’s continue.”
. . . . .
After the session, Hiro sat cross-legged on the mat, motioning for Taylor to do the same. The dojo was empty, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead.
“You came here for more than training today,” Hiro said.
Taylor nodded, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. She knew she couldn’t exactly tell him the full truth—couldn’t explain how her powers had been faltering, how she had frozen in the middle of a life-or-death fight. But maybe she didn't have to. Maybe, with the right words, he could help her make sense of the turmoil in her mind.
“I need… advice.”
Hiro’s gaze softened, though his expression remained serious. “Go on.”
“Let’s just say I used to have… an advantage,” she said carefully. “I could rely on it to keep me ahead, to keep me safe. Now? It’s unreliable, and every time I try to make it work, it feels like I’m pushing against a wall that won’t budge.”
Hiro tilted his head slightly, considering her words. “You’ve built your identity around this ‘advantage,’ haven’t you?”
Taylor nodded again, slower this time.
“Then perhaps the problem isn’t the advantage,” Hiro continued. “It’s your refusal to see yourself without it.”
The words hit harder than she expected. She looked away, her thoughts spinning.
“What am I supposed to do?” she asked quietly. “Pretend it doesn’t matter?”
“No,” Hiro replied. “Accept that it matters, but also accept that you are more than just that one thing. Stop fighting the cracks in your foundation and learn to build something new from them. Adapt.”
Taylor mulled over his words, her mind flashing back to her first fights in Gotham, to her awkward and messy attempts to protect people without relying on her insects. Her abilities had always been second nature to her—something she wielded instinctively, without question. But now, with them faltering, she had been trying to force control, to bend them to her will again. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she needed to stop fighting against the currents and learn to move with it, to work with whatever they gave her, even if it was unpredictable.
Still…
“You make it sound simple.”
Hiro smiled faintly. “It’s not. But simplicity and ease aren’t the same thing.”
. . . . .
Later that evening, Taylor walked through her neighborhood, mask on and hoodie pulled over her head, the air heavy with the faint smell of smoke from the previous day’s mayhem. The streets were quieter now, though the tension still lingered, but her mind replayed Hiro’s words.
As she passed a boarded-up store, she spotted a small group of people hammering together makeshift barricades and clearing debris from the sidewalks. Marcus was among them, directing the others with a calm authority that reminded her oddly enough of Danny.
“Hey,” Marcus called out, spotting her. “You’ve got a second?”
Taylor nodded, walking over.
“We’ve been talking,” he said, gesturing to the group. “Figured it’s time we stopped waiting for you to do all the work.”
“We’ve been talking,” he said, his voice gruff but warm as he gestured to the group. “Figured we can’t rely on you and the kid to do everything, and decided to do more.”
Taylor blinked, taken aback. “You did this on your own?”
Jack shrugged. “People see what you’ve been doing, and it’s inspired us—showed us we don’t have to be powerless. Figured we ought to do something with that.”
Taylor’s chest tightened. She didn’t know what to say. She had been so caught up in her own doubts, in her fear of failing them, that she hadn’t realized how much they had grown, how much they had taken her example to heart.
“That’s… good,” she said finally, quietly, meaning it. “Just be careful. The League’s still out there, and they won’t hesitate to—”
“We know,” Marcus interrupted. “That’s why we’ve been keeping it small, quiet. No one’s looking to pick a fight. We just want to make sure we’re ready if one comes to us.”
Taylor nodded slowly, a flicker of pride warming the knot of doubt in her chest. "If you need anything, let me know."
Marcus gave her a nod before turning back to the group.
Taylor stood there for a moment, watching as the community she had helped build—people she’d been trying to protect—stepped up in ways she hadn’t anticipated. They worked together without her input, united by a shared purpose.
It seemed they were even stronger than she’d realized.
As Taylor walked away, Hiro's words echoed in her mind once more: Stop fighting the cracks in your foundation.
Maybe, just maybe, she could bend without breaking.
Comments
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This was a problem that Taylor should have confronted long ago but didn't for two reason. One, the girl is stubborn, and two, she's been winning even with her crippled power. It was only when she faced a true threat -not the thugs and foot soldiers she's fought against but Talia- that she realized that trying to fight the same way she always had is just going to get her killed. Once more, Taylor will have to adapt, just as she did when she started teaming up with Robin despite not liking the idea initially.
