Saturday morning placed my name on an armor locker before confidence reached the athletics hall. Nina waited inside the guest area wearing black leggings, a loose red sweater, plus trainers suitable for emergency movement; she had brought no recorder.
Yuna checked my medical clearance again, then introduced Kenji Morita as the senior observer holding stop authority. He was twenty-two, certified in first aid, plus familiar with return-to-activity restrictions; my embarrassment would occur under more supervision than some public events.
"Today contains footwork, spacing, plus one controlled descent," Yuna said, setting the practice weapon across both palms, "no strikes, competition, or proof of toughness."
"Agreed," I replied, checking the listed sequence before accepting equipment.
