4th Strike: Moving On

No Moe

Three feet low and sinking, but stakes is high
I truly try, but I'm to blame,
Spinning my wheels instead of upping my game
But no moe, it's the third strike, I'm moving on
To my past, it's the swan song, after this, you're gone
Breakadawn like De La, the age of daisies
Buhloone state of mind, keeping it wavy
Don't need the manosphere to save me
Secure in self, secure in rhyme
Not a freshman, but I excel
'Coolin like LL.

- Vadell Gabriel, "No Moe (Freestyle)"

----

The night air was warm and relaxing as the Matsudas and their dates - no matter how much Sean tried to deny otherwise - cruised through Bela Vista with the windows down and the sunroof open, enjoying the warm breeze as various buildings blurred past them. Neon signs glimmered off the glass of some of the more modern buildings, while crowds of people, largely a mix of Afro-Brazilians and Italian immigrants, moved throughout the neighbourhood, enjoying the post-fight nightlife. After what was unquestionably a stressful day for all involved, the quartet was glad it at least ended on a positive note.

Sean, the main reason most of the day's events even happened, was reclining in the back seat, simply grateful he didn't have to eat yet another loss, or had a bounty put on his head by Karin. Next to him was Sakura, who had been resting her head on his shoulder almost as soon as the drive from the steakhouse began. The bold gesture wasn't unwelcome, but it surprised him, to say the least. He mostly wrote it off from the wine she had earlier taking its hold, but it did little to slow down his now-rapidly beating heart. He mentally cursed both his sister and Menat for their romantic suggestions, and the close contact with Sakura wasn't helping. He actively resisted the urge to wrap an arm around her, but couldn't bring himself to stop the contact, either. So he simply relaxed and tried not to disturb her as much as possible.

For all of his internal warring, he was just grateful he wasn't pitching a tent right at that very moment.

Sakura, for her part, was completely relaxed during the ride; though that wasn't entirely due to the wine in her system. Everything with Pulk Hogen aside, it had been a wonderful day for her. She was happy to just be herself, and not have to put up with Karin or Ibuki ranting about the Matsudas or having to act like a high-class socialite at whatever ritzy event Karin would've taken her and Elena to. She was glad to finally know other pro fighters who shared her love for hip-hop; Karin refused to listen to it, and she was pretty sure Ryu and Kei knew next to nothing about it. Having common ground outside of fighting and boys was refreshing.

But that wasn't quite why her stomach was fluttering as she rested her head on Sean's shoulder...

Up in front, Elena and Enzo both glanced back at the two from their seats, silently laughing at Sean's mild awkwardness with Sakura snuggled close to him. Their mutual infatuation was obvious, even in spite of Sean trying his hardest to play it cool. Sakura had a reputation of being a very friendly person, but Elena knew she had never gotten this intimate with any guy in her life; especially not Ryu. It was kind of cute to her. Enzo, for his part, was wondering when his cousin would finally get his nuts up and make a move on a girl who was obviously into him for once.

Before long, the Rosewood came into view. One of the more high-end luxury hotel chains around, even the cheapest rooms were known to be priced at over eight-hundred dollars for a single night; and that was on a good day. Originally a historic maternity hospital that was designated as a heritage site, it was known as the birthplace of more than half a million babies in Sao Paulo for over half a century; Sean and his family included. Eventually, it was closed down and left to rot, until a french entrepreneur bought the land in the mid-2000s and gradually redeveloped the building into the fancy hotel it was now. Sean glanced up at it with mild derision as they got closer to it. He understood luxury came with a hefty price tag, but he couldn't justify spending an entire paycheque on a single night in a hotel; even if he ever got as stinking rich as Ken or Dudley.