Chapter 29: Makoto Flashback Chapter 21: Minerva Lee (Vol. 2)

30 Years Ago:

Mixed Martial Arts.  It had been a part of Minerva Lee's life, from as far back as she could remember.  It would later shape her immense interest in the field of boxing but, at first, she hated it.  Not only was it grueling on her body, physically, but also, draining on her, mentally, as well.  When she was younger, her father would push her body to its absolute limits.  Minerva never quite understood why her father was so desperate to push his MMA knowledge onto his daughter because...he never explained this to her.  He always kept the reasoning to himself for whatever reason.  This did frustrate Minerva, her entire life.  Why wouldn't her father, at the very least, explain to her why she had to learn skills that seemed so useless to her, at the time?  This was a question that would never be answered for Minerva since her father always kept these kinds of things to himself.  All she could do, was follow her father's instructions, exactly as he gave them to her.  

Minerva, now a 12-year old girl, who was in far better physical condition than most kids her age, was heavily panting, standing in front of a heavy bag, that her father was standing on the other side of.  

"Come on, Minerva, morning training isn't finished, yet," said her father, ignoring the fact that his daughter was on the verge of passing out from exhaustion.  "I know you're tired...that's normal.  It happens when we push our bodies so hard.  However, it's important not to let that same feeling of being drained prevent us from pushing forward.  In fact, that's when we have to dig deep...and find our inner strength to keep going."

Even though she could hear her father's words, Minerva, more than anything, wanted to scream at her father that she didn't care.  Not about finding her inner strength or getting stronger, physically.  She just wanted to live the normal life of a girl her age.  It wasn't fair.  But, Minerva knew, deep in her heart, that telling her father this was pointless.  He wouldn't listen to her.  He was much too stubborn to do that.  All Minerva could do...was listen...and keep pushing herself, no matter how close she felt to passing out.  Minerva did her best to control her breathing and then got back into her fighting stance.  

"Right hook!" instructed her father in his boisterous, coaching tone.

As ordered, Minerva pulled back her right fist for her windup and then rammed her fist, in a hook-motion, directly into the heavy bag.

"Left hook!" 

Minerva pulled back her left fist for another windup and slammed it into the heavy bag, making sure to nail the hook-motion of the strike, just like her father had taught her.  

"Right Roundhouse!" 

Minerva lifted her right leg, bent it, twisted her body, slightly, and made sure her toes were pulled back, before smacking the heavy bag with the dorsal part of her foot.  With each consecutive strike, Minerva could feel her body getting weaker and weaker but she pushed this feeling to the back of her mind as she continued to follow her father's orders, without questioning them once.  

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Present:

The faint sound of a crowd cheering, noisily, was the only thing Minerva could hear over the loud ringing in her ear from the brutal shot to her head that she took from her opponent.  She had promised Makoto that she was finished fighting but, when she told her daughter that, Minerva had already been scheduled for a fight, so she decided to make it her last one.  She believed that her last fight wouldn't be too much for her to handle but it was proving to be a much tougher fight than she imagined.  A small bit of blood, dripping from her forehead, got into her eye, forcing Minerva to wipe the blood off of her forehead with her right forearm, getting blood on it in the process.  

I-I have to get up, Minerva told herself as the referee of the fight's count was already at 7.  I-I can't let my last fight...be a loss.

As soon as the referee's count was at 8, Minerva managed to pick herself up off of the mat, much to her opponent's dismay.  It was obvious that she thought she had beaten Minerva.  As the referee resumed the fight with a single hand motion, after making sure Minerva was physically able to, the crowd began chanting Minerva's fighter nickname.  

"Minefield!  Minefield!  Minefield!" 

A nickname she had earned because of how explosive her strike's were or, at least, how explosive they were when she was still fighting in her prime.  As she had gotten older, Minerva could feel the impact in her punches decrease more and more, so it was difficult for her to even call her blows explosive at this point.  In many ways, Minerva believed she was nothing like the fighter that she used to be, especially, ever since she was pregnant with Makoto.  After her pregnancy was finished, nothing was the same...it would have probably been best to quit right then and there.  It would have definitely made her late husband happy but...it was too late to be thinking about that.  Her husband wasn't around, anymore...it was just her...and her daughter, Makoto.  The sooner this fight was finished, the sooner she could return to her daughter, who was waiting for her.  This new found determination was enough to snap Minerva back to reality and her current situation.  Her opponent was throwing a left jab at her face so Minerva slid out of the way to the right, while holding both of her forearms in front of her face, to block any potential damage.  Her opponent lost their balance, opening her up to an unrelenting barrage of jabs, hooks and uppercuts from Minerva, who didn't want to let this chance slip by.  This was enough to send her opponent onto the mat, back-first.  Judging by how motionless her opponent was, Minerva doubted that her opponent was going to be able to get back up before the referee's count of ten.  It was finally over.  Her last fight.  No, not only that.  Fighting in general...something she had been doing her entire life...was over.  While a part of Minerva was saddened by this fact, an even larger part of her felt a weight lifted off of her shoulders that had been put on them by her father all those years ago.  The only thing Minerva wanted to focus her attention on, at this point in her life, was her daughter, Makoto.  She was the thing that mattered most to Minerva...not boxing...not fighting...not anything else.

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Minerva sat on a bench inside of her locker room, post fight, upon finishing changing into her normal clothes.  Her forehead had already been patched up as well for her by the doctor at the venue.  

It's...finally over, thought Minerva to herself.  I...don't have to fight, anymore.  I probably won't ever be fighting, again.  This feels so fucking weird.  Hopefully, it'll get easier with time.

"You about ready to head home?" asked her trainer, who was standing in the doorway of her locker room.  

Her trainer's name was Tommy Griffith, a man with short, brown hair and an athletic build.  Ever since she began her boxing career, Tommy had been her trainer...she had completely forgotten this was going to be the last time that she got to see him as well.  She worried that he was upset with her for quitting like this.  It wasn't fair to him and Minerva knew that but she had already promised Makoto that she would stop fighting and she wasn't about to go back on her word.  

Even though, she was expecting a scolding from her trainer, he simply said, "I'm actually surprised it's taken you this long to finally give all of this up.  There's nothing to be ashamed of, Minerva.  You had a good...no, a great career and I'm lucky to have been your trainer through all of it."

"Y-You aren't pissed at me for quitting?" returned Minerva, taken aback by how accepting he was being.  

"Of course not," he answered, smiling.  "It's been a long time coming.  You have a daughter and, after what happened to your husband, she needs you more than ever.  You made the choice that any caring mother would make.  This...line of work...isn't really meant to be done forever.  You had a good run.  Be proud of yourself.  Plus, count yourself lucky.  You've been boxing above the recommended age range for quite a while and haven't suffered any life-altering injuries.  The older you get while boxing, the more prone you become."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," replied Minerva.  "Still, I've been doing this my whole life.  I-I don't know what other kind of job I would even begin looking at."

"All fighters go through that, at first.  You aren't the only one.  You'll figure something out, don't worry.  Just try to focus on spending more time with your daughter until you find one.  Speaking as a father, myself, they grow up fast and, one day, you won't get the chance to spend so much time with them.  You have to enjoy that time while you still can."

"Thanks Tommy...for everything.  I couldn't have done any of this without your help, over the years.  You've been the best trainer a boxer could ever ask for."

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After a brief silence between the two, Tommy offered, "How about instead of a taxi, I drive you home, tonight?  For old time's sake.  I don't mind.  Your house is on the way to mine, anyways."

"I-I'd appreciate that," answered Minerva, remembering that she wasn't allowed to drive, after her fights.

Usually, Andy was the one, who drove her home and when he couldn't, she would just take a taxi home.  Still, she never liked driving the taxis so she was relieved that Tommy had made the offer of driving her back home.  

"Well, we better get going, before it gets too late," claimed Tommy. 

And with that, Tommy was gone, leaving Minerva in the locker room all alone.  Not wanting to fall too far behind, she forced herself up into a standing position.  All of the sudden, Minerva felt a sharp, excruciating pain shooting inside of her head, causing her to lose her balance.  Luckily, she caught herself, before she could tumble over.  The pain lasted for almost 10 unbearable seconds until it disappeared.  

"W-What...the fuck was that?" asked Minerva, never having experienced something like that, before.  "Damn, maybe, my opponent hit me in the head a little harder than I thought?"

Minerva figured that it was just a fluke incident and brushed it off, as she made her way out of the locker room, for, what she was hoping, would be the last time.  

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I used my right index finger and thumb to pinch a portion of the skin on my left forearm, pulled it upward, held it for a second and let it go. I repeated this with the same part of my skin until I could tell that it was bleeding, slightly. Usually, I would stop when the skin area would get red from my picking but, sometimes, it was inevitable that it would bleed. My left forearm was covered in bloodied pick marks, as I laid on the comfortable carpet, alone, inside of the dark living area of my apartment. My anxiety, depression, pain...hell, fucking everything had gotten significantly worse, lately. Today, I had spent the entirety of it looking for a new job because I got fired from my last one. Couldn't say I was completely surprised...I knew it would happen, eventually. A fuck-up like me could only hold a job for so long without ruining it. One day, while I was with one of my evening clients, I...accidentally, puked in front of the client and their parents, not making it to the toilet in time. It...came out of nowhere. I still didn't know what caused it...could have been my pain that had continued to get worse by the day, my never-ending anxiety or any list of bullshit. The "why" didn't matter, in the end. As soon as my job received the phone call from the parents, I was let go the next day. I remembered crying in front of the parents and client, due to my embarrassment of puking in front of them. No matter how many times I apologized to them...over and over again, they wouldn't stop looking at me like...a weirdo...a disgusting, fucking weirdo. Because of how quickly I was released from my job, I didn't get to say goodbye to Makoto, who was my other client, in the mornings. After just losing her father, another one of her worst fears came true. I was gone. I was no longer at the school with her and...and...it was my fucking fault. All my fucking fault. 

I can only imagine how much Makoto cried, I thought to myself, still picking. Out of all of the times I could have gotten fired, why did it have to be now when that poor girl needed me the most?  At least, she still has Jason. Hopefully, by now, he's back at the school with her. Still, leaving all that responsibility on his shoulders doesn't make me feel any better...hell, it makes me feel worse. How the fuck could I throw up like that? Yeah, my pain was bad that day but...when isn't my pain bad? I can't remember the last fucking day that it wasn't bothering me in some way. Was I supposed to actually take it seriously? If I took a day off every time my pain was bad, then I would rarely even be at my job. 

I took a, momentary, pause as the thoughts continued to pour into my mind, relentlessly.  I had been spending the entirety of the day, sending out numerous job applications, praying that someone would message me back. I needed a job, desperately, or...or I would lose my apartment and then I would have to move back into my mom's place and be a burden for her, again. That's the last thing I wanted. I had enough money in my savings, luckily, to last me a couple of months, while I searched for a new job but I realized I didn't have a ton of time to waste. 

What if I can't find a job? What if my pain keeps getting worse and this prevents me from working full-time? How the fuck am I going to afford my rent and other bills? I can try to apply for disability but the odds of that actually working is close to 0. Plus, it takes fucking forever. I don't have that kind of time. I wonder how Makoto's doing? Is she still able to function at school or is she a broken mess, now, because of me leaving? Is Jason still with her or has she scared him off with her meltdowns? How's Makoto's mother doing? The poor woman just lost her husband and is stuck with taking care of her daughter, completely by herself. She doesn't even have me watching over her daughter at school, anymore. Minerva, Makoto, Jason...t-they all...probably hate me, now. I deserve it. I deserve all of it and more. I hate myself too. Why? Why the fuck does God let someone as pathetic as me live? I just don't fucking get it? What am I good for? What fucking purpose do I serve? What if the pain kills me? What if I have a heart attack from the anxiety? What if I end up killing myself due to the depression? What if the world just fucking ended, tomorrow, without any warning? 

This was a much more common occurrence for me, these days. Excessive worry that spiraled into completely unrealistic worries that concerned the future. These worries scared me, to my core, despite how unlikely they were. They consumed my mind until they were all I could think about. The thoughts made me feel sick to my stomach and drove me to the verge of puking. I just wished the worries would stop. I just wanted all of the voices in my head to shut the fuck up! 

"Ow!" I blurted out, realizing that I had been picking the spot on my forearm far more aggressively than usual, because of the influx of thoughts. 

The spot began oozing blood and now, both my index finger and thumb had blood on them, in conjunction, with the pieces of skin in between the nails. 

Shit, I should just probably got to bed so I can wake up earlier, tomorrow, to keep applying for more jobs. 

My body was stiff and achy from lying on the carpet, that was in the living area of my apartment, for too long and I could feel a ton of pops through various parts of my body while I picked myself up off of the carpet. Once I was standing, I made my way towards my bathroom to rinse the blood and skin off of my right thumb, right index finger and left forearm. 

I miss my job, I thought to myself, sadly.  If only...I was strong enough to stay at it. Well, maybe, it was for the best? It's not like I was good at my job, in any way. I was shit at it...just like I'm shit at everything I do.  Still, it made me feel...like I was at least serving a purpose...it was delusional thinking, for sure, that I was actually helping these kids but it did make me feel like I wasn't completely fucking useless. I guess...that's what I get for thinking something as stupid as that.

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I'm sorry, Makoto, thought Jason to himself, watching her sleep from the sleeping bag next to hers.  First, you lost your dad. Then, you lost Ms. Yuuki. Now, all you have left is me. I know...you're sad. I wish...there was a way to make you feel better. I just don't know how.

Jason laid down in his sleeping bag, still facing Makoto, who was fast asleep. The two were having a sleep over at Jason's house since her mom was busy with work. Makoto was in a pretty good mood, as far as Jason could tell. The two played some cards and watched tv with each other, until Makoto, eventually, fell asleep. It had been a couple of weeks since Jason had returned to school and so much had happened. Makoto lost her father. Ms. Yuuki stopped coming to the school. Makoto being so quiet, that she rarely talked. All of it was so much for Jason to try and handle on his own but...he believed he had to. He made a promise to Makoto's father and Ms. Yuuki that he was going to watch over Makoto for them. Jason refused to let this promise get broken. After everything she had been through...all of the tears she had shed for her father and Ms. Yuuki...Jason knew that he had to be the one person in her life that didn't leave her, no matter what. 

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Minerva opened the front door of her home with her house key and hobbled inside of her empty house, shutting the door behind her and locking it. Everything was silent which made sense. Makoto was at Jason and his family's house for a sleep over so she was the only one in the home, by herself. Feeling weak and tired, Minerva slumped against the front door of the home and slid against it until she was on her rear. 

It's over, she, internally, realized.  I'll never fight, again. Starting tomorrow, Makoto is the only thing that matters. I may not be very good at this "mother" thing but I have to get good, for her sake. I need to find a job that I can do from home so that way I can always be here, incase something happens to Makoto at school. I have to start making her breakfasts and lunches for school. I have to cook dinner by myself. I have to help her with her homework ,despite being shit at school, myself. I have to attend parent-teacher days. I have to handle scheduling play dates between Makoto and Jason. Hardest of all, I have to learn how to bond with her, like Andy did. B-But, that's impossible. Andy was amazing with her...I pale in comparison to him, in that regard. I'll never be able to make Makoto smile the way he could. Not only that, Ms. Yuuki is gone. I...still can't believe...Makoto will never see that saint of a woman, again. She was better with Makoto than I was. Both of the people that Makoto treasured the most are gone and, now, she's stuck...with me. 

Minerva buried her face into her knees, feeling overwhelmed by all of the new-found responsibilities she had. 

"I-I wish you were still here, Andy," she whispered to herself. "I-I need you to still be here. I-I really can't do this without you."

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