CHAPTER 194: FRIDAY TOURNAMENT

Five AM. Kofi’s alarm went off like a fire bell. Tournament day.

Nina was already up, making coffee in the kitchen. "Couldn’t sleep either?"

"Too much adrenaline."

They dressed quickly and headed to the dojo. The sun was just starting to rise, painting the sky pale orange.

The dojo was already busy. Yuna had been there since four, directing the setup crew. Tables for registration, chairs for spectators, medical station, judges’ table.

"Coffee," Nina said, handing Yuna a cup.

"Bless you."

By six, the rest of the core team had arrived. Ruby was setting up the registration table with Jake. David was testing the live stream equipment with his computer science friend.

"We’re live in thirty minutes," David reported. "Already have fifty people waiting in the stream."

Tanaka-sensei arrived with four other senseis, all in formal traditional dress.

"My colleagues from around the region," he introduced them. "They’ve come to judge and demonstrate their support."

At seven, competitors started arriving. They came in groups - teams from other universities, local dojos, even a few high schools.

"This is incredible," Alex said, watching cars fill the parking lot. "There must be a hundred people here already."

"One hundred thirty," Ruby corrected, checking her laptop. "And more coming."

Dean Morrison arrived at seven-thirty with several administrators.

"Quite a turnout," she observed.

"People care about this place," Kofi replied.

"I can see that. The board members who aren’t in Brennan’s pocket will be impressed."

"How many is that?"

"More than you might think. Not everyone is swayed by money alone."

The opening ceremony was scheduled for eight. Kofi stood at the center of the main floor, looking at the crowd. Competitors in various uniforms, spectators filling every available space, media with cameras.

"Welcome," he began, his voice carrying through the space. "This building has stood for sixty years as a place where people learn not just to fight, but to grow. Today we demonstrate why it must continue."

Applause filled the dojo. Kofi felt the energy of the crowd, supportive and determined.

The tournament began with youth divisions. Kids as young as six showed basic forms, their concentration intense despite their size.

"Look at their faces," Nina said to Kevin, who was taking photos. "That’s what this place creates. Focus, discipline, confidence."

"I’m getting it all," Kevin assured her.

The morning progressed through various divisions and styles. Fencing, aikido, karate, judo, kendo. Each match was respectful but intense, competitors giving their all.

Around ten, Brennan appeared with two men in suits. They stood at the back, watching with expressions of disdain.

"Don’t let them throw you," Nina told Kofi. "They’re here to intimidate."

"They’re here to see what they’re up against."

The intermediate kendo division was starting. David from Kofi’s team was competing.

"Remember," Kofi told him. "This isn’t just about winning. It’s about showing what you’ve learned."

David nodded, putting on his helmet.

His match was beautiful. Not perfect technique, but heart and determination. He lost, but narrowly, and his opponent helped him up with obvious respect.

"That’s what we teach here," Tanaka-sensei said loudly enough for Brennan to hear. "Respect. Honor. Growth through challenge."

Local news arrived at eleven, interviewing participants and senseis. Kofi watched Brennan’s expression grow darker as positive coverage accumulated.

Lunch break was chaos. Ruby and volunteers distributed food to competitors while maintaining organization.

"We’re trending on social media," Jake reported. "Hashtag SaveTheDojo has two thousand mentions."

"How?"

"Nina’s been promoting all morning. Also, someone leaked video of last night’s meeting."

Kofi looked at Nina. She shrugged. "Wasn’t me. But I’m not complaining."

The afternoon brought advanced divisions. The skill level was remarkable. Competitors who’d trained for decades showed techniques that looked more like art than combat.

Yuna’s division was last. Women’s advanced kendo.

"I should be preparing for Japan," she said, adjusting her equipment. "Instead I’m here."

"Regrets?"

"None. This matters more."

She walked onto the floor to face her opponent, a woman from a university two hours away.

The match was electric. Both competitors moved with speed and precision that drew gasps from the crowd. Yuna’s style had evolved - still aggressive but now controlled, strategic.

The winning point came after three minutes of intense exchange. Yuna created an opening with a feint and struck cleanly.

The crowd erupted. Even Brennan’s companions looked impressed.

"Your student?" one of the visiting senseis asked Kofi.

"My partner. She taught me as much as I taught her."

The demonstrations followed the tournament. Each sensei showed advanced techniques from their specialties. The crowd was silent, absorbing the beauty and power of lifetime dedication.

Tanaka-sensei was last. At seventy, he moved like water, every motion perfect economy. His demonstration of sword forms was poetry.

"Sixty years of practice," he said afterward. "Fifty of them connected to this building. This is not just architecture. It’s repository of knowledge, community, growth."

The closing ceremony was at four. Kofi stood again before the crowd, now even larger than the morning.

"Today you’ve seen what this dojo represents. Not just a building but a living tradition. The university has a choice. Preserve this for future generations or destroy it for profit."

He looked directly at Brennan. "Some see only old wood and worn mats. We see the thousands of students who’ve grown here, the community that’s been built, the knowledge that’s been preserved."

"The board of trustees meets Monday. They’ll decide this building’s fate. But whatever they decide, what we’ve built here - the connections, the learning, the growth - that can’t be demolished."

The crowd stood, applauding. The energy was overwhelming.

Brennan left without a word, his companions trailing behind.

"We did it," Nina said quietly.

"We did something. Whether it’s enough..."

Dean Morrison approached. "That was impressive. I’ll make sure the board sees video of today."

"Will it matter?"

"It should. Whether it will depends on politics I can’t control. But you’ve made the strongest case possible."

As the crowd dispersed and cleanup began, exhaustion hit Kofi hard. He sat on the edge of the competition area, watching his team work.

"You okay?" Nina asked, sitting beside him.

"Tired. And worried this wasn’t enough."

"It was enough. Look around. Look what you built."

He saw his teammates cleaning up, laughing despite exhaustion. Saw Ruby and Jake working in perfect sync. Saw Yuna teaching a young competitor a technique.

"We built. Not just me."

"You started it. That matters."

Kevin approached with his camera. "Got everything documented. This story’s going to be big."

"Big enough to save the dojo?"

"I don’t know. But big enough that destroying it will have consequences."

By six, the dojo was clean and empty except for the core team.

"Pizza?" Jake suggested. "I’m buying."

"You never buy," Ruby said.

"Special occasion."

They went to their usual pizza place, taking over a corner booth. Conversation was light, everyone too tired for serious discussion.

"Whatever happens Monday," Yuna said, "today was worth it."

"Even if we lose the building?"

"We won’t lose what matters. The connections, the skills, the community. That exists beyond any building."

"That’s very philosophical," Nina said.

"I’m leaving for Japan next week. I’m allowed to be philosophical."

The reminder of Yuna’s departure cast a shadow over the celebration.

"We’ll stay in touch," Ruby said firmly. "Distance doesn’t end friendship."

"It changes it though."

"Everything changes. That’s not always bad."

They stayed until the restaurant closed, reluctant to let the day end.

Walking home, Kofi and Nina were quiet.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"That I don’t want to wait until Monday to know."

"The board won’t meet sooner."

"I know. Doesn’t stop me from wanting certainty."

"Certainty’s overrated. We’ve done everything without it so far."

They reached their apartment to find another envelope under the door.

"Not again," Nina said.

But this one was different. Official university stationary.

Inside was a letter from Dean Morrison: "Emergency board meeting scheduled for Saturday, 2 PM. Your attendance is requested."

"Tomorrow?" Nina said. "Why tomorrow?"

"Something’s changed. Either very good or very bad."

"How do we find out which?"

"We don’t. We just show up and see."

They went to bed with new anxiety. The Saturday meeting could decision everything.

"Whatever happens," Nina said in the darkness, "we fought well."

"Not past tense yet. The fight’s not over."

"No. But this phase might be."

Kofi reached for her hand. "Then we start the next phase."

"Always fighting something."

"Better than surrendering."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Much better."

Sleep came eventually, bringing dreams of swords and crowds and buildings that wouldn’t fall.

Saturday would bring answers they weren’t sure they wanted.