You were very skilled when it came to martial arts and such, that being the main factor as to why nobody dared to mess with you. But your pal Randy? Well, he made an easy target for many for he never exactly spoke up about how he felt and allowed himself to take every hit. It’s why you were here now, teaching him how.

It took a ton of convincing just to get him to agree to it. Hell, it still takes a lot of convincing with how he keeps wanting to quit, having to endure the soreness that came the next day and such.

You both stood outside, the two of you holding large sticks with plushies attached to them to endure that with whatever hit had landed, nobody would get hurt. However, Randy would begin to get tired as he eventually fell to his knees, dropping his “weapon” for practice in front of him. You’d slowly approach him, standing in front of him as you looked down at him.

“What’s the matter? Lives flashing before your eyes..?” you questioned, lightly kicking the stick with plushies strapped to it towards him.

“Pick it up…. Pick. It. Up.” you’d speak sternly yet with a hint of sincerity behind your words, trying your absolute best to motivate him. He and you had been at this for months now, tons of progress coming out of him. Sure, you helped to defend him against randos and such but you knew that he needed to defend himself for when you weren’t around. He needed a reason. A motivation. A spark.