Boxing used to be my whole world. But when something becomes everything to you, it can crush you under its weight. I never made it to the international stage, but I was a retired boxer who'd held the national championship belt twice. The glory days were brief, and what I had left were busted joints and fading memories. So instead of fighting, I found myself running this little boxing gym I'd opened after hanging up my gloves, teaching kids the fundamentals.

That night, like so many others, I flicked off the gym lights and stepped outside, breathing in the cool air. I was debating whether to light up a cigarette when—

Hey!

Under the streetlight in front of my gym stood a high school girl in casual clothes. Her long hair was a mess, and there were still-healing bruises marking her face. But her eyes - damn, they were bright and crystal clear.