Victor flinched. It was small, but Daniel saw it.
"I've tried," Victor said quietly. "He won't talk to me. Not really."
"Then try harder," Daniel said. "Not with words. Words are cheap. He's heard you say plenty of words."
"Same way I did with you," Daniel said. "Show him."
...
It didn't happen overnight.
The next week, Victor asked Ethan to help him lead the warmups for the little kids. Ethan said no.
The week after, Victor asked again. Ethan shrugged and said fine.
Fine.
There was that word again.
Daniel watched from the bench every Saturday. He saw Victor try. He saw Victor fail. He saw Victor try again.
The real conversation happened on a rainy Thursday night in April.
Victor and Ethan were sitting on the edge of the floor, their backs against the wall.
Daniel stopped near the door. He didn't mean to listen. But the room was quiet, and voices carry in empty places.
"I used to throw up before class," Ethan was saying. "Did you know that? Every Tuesday. Every Thursday. My mom thought I had a stomach thing. I didn't tell her."
"I kept coming because I thought if I quit, it meant you were right. That I was weak. That I'd always be weak." Ethan's voice cracked. "So I just kept getting thrown. Over and over. And smiling. And saying I was fine."
"You weren't fine," Victor said quietly.
"No."
Victor stared at the mat for a long time. "My father was a fighter. Amateur boxing champion, back in his day. He wanted me to be better than him. He put gloves on me when I was five." Victor's jaw tightened. "Every time I lost, he'd make me stand in the garage while he told me exactly how worthless I was. Every time I cried, he hit me harder. He said it was training. He said the world doesn't care about your feelings, so you better stop having them."
Ethan looked up.
"When I was twelve, I won my first real tournament. He didn't come. He was at a bar. When I got home, I showed him the trophy, and he said, 'Third place in a little kids' bracket. Don't get comfortable.'" Victor laughed, but there was no humor in it. "I never got comfortable. I just got angry. And I thought being angry was the same as being strong."
"So you did it to me," Ethan said. "What he did to you."