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Part- 302:
Dipa raised an eyebrow. “What kind of favor?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” James said with a sly grin. “How about a celebratory dinner after we win the quarter-finals or even semi final day after tomorrow?”
Dipa narrowed her eyes pyfully. “Why do I get the feeling you just want free food?”
“Maybe,” James admitted, ughing. “Or maybe I just like your pany.”
Dipa rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “Fine. But if we win final, *you’re* buying.”
James preteo sider. “What? Okay, deal. But I get to pick the restaurant.”
“Not if it’s chi wings again,” Dipa warned.
James threw up his hands. “e on, Dipa! Chi wings are practically a tradition at this point.”
Dipa ughed. “We’ll see.”
As the team began to walk toward the car together, the weight of the uping final day seemed a little lighter. For James, it wasn’t just about the petition anymore—it was about the people around him.
And in that moment, as he exged o pyful grin with Dipa, he khat whatever challenges y ahead, they’d face them together.
The m sun cast a warm, golden light across Banani, illuminating the streets in a soft, tranquil glow. James moved with purpose through the quiet neighborhood, heading toward the Martial Arts ter. Today was different. His teammates—Ryan, Sourov, and the rest of the judo squad—were at school, training under Coach Gin’s watchful eye in preparation for the finals. But James needed something more than just the usual drills of throws and holds. Deep down, he khat victory in the finals wouldn’t e solely from brute strength. He needed precision, trol, and the ability to adapt under pressure.
Coach Gin had seen this determination in James and given him the green light to miss the school practice. James appreciated that trust—it wasn’t easy to vince Gin to let anyone skip practice, especially so close to a tour final. Yet, Gin uood that James wasn’t taking the easy way out. James wao sharpen every edge of his skills, and he kly where to go for that—Kashem Chowdhury’s training hall.
The rge, loomirance of the Banani Martial Arts ter came into view. The familiar banner, embzoned with the words _"Strength Through Discipline,"_ fluttered slightly in the m breeze. This pce had bee a sed home to James over the past few months. Though he hadn’t traiensively here before, the academy’s reputation, as well as his e to Mili and her family, made it a natural choice for honing his abilities.
Ihe ter buzzed with energy and life. Judokas rolled and grappled os to his left, shouting in bursts as they practiced throws. In another pce, swordsmen moved through their katas with a serene rhythm, every movement precise and deliberate. At the far end, a group of archers stood silently, aiming their bows with focused iy. The sounds of grunts, mats spping, and arrows thudding against targets merged to form the symphony of hard work and ambition. The smell of sweat, resin, and the faint odor of leather permeated the air.
