JAY-FC

Chapter One: The Calm Before the Blitz

Jay Toyota stared at his reflection in the mirror. The hotel room was quiet, the faint hum of the air conditioner the only thing breaking the silence. His gaze shifted from his sharp, determined eyes to the UFC gloves laid out neatly on the table. Tomorrow, the world would see what "Blitz" was really about.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, a text from his coach. "Get some rest. Big day tomorrow." Jay grunted, tossing the phone aside. He didn't need reminders. He was ready, had been ready for this his whole life.

Six months ago, when the UFC contract slid across the table, his heart didn't race, his palms didn't sweat. He had simply signed the paper with the same arrogance that carried him through twenty-one undefeated MMA fights. Now, on the eve of his UFC debut, he was calm. Too calm.

He stepped back from the mirror and threw a quick series of strikes into the air, his hands moving like lightning, the speed still shocking even to him. Every kick, every punch, came instinctively now. The Showtime Kick, the Wheel Kick-his signature moves were sharper than ever. Tomorrow, they'd all know my name.

He slipped on his hoodie, the one with Blitz emblazoned on the back in bold letters. His fighting style had earned him that nickname. He wasn't just fast; he was ruthless, aggressive-an overwhelming force in the cage. Tomorrow, his opponent, a veteran fighter named Caleb "The Beast" Redding, would find out firsthand.

Jay left the hotel room and headed toward the gym downstairs. He wouldn't sleep. He never did the night before a fight. The cool desert night air of Mesa, Arizona was behind him now, replaced by the fluorescent lights and the familiar sound of fists hitting pads.

His coach, Dean Barker, a grizzled veteran of the fight game, met him there, pad in hand. "Couldn't sleep, huh?"

Jay shook his head. "Nope. Just needed to move."

Dean tapped the pads. "Alright. Let's move."

They ran through his combinations-hands high, feet planted. The rhythm was natural, the flow effortless. Jay's mind drifted between strikes. He remembered growing up in Osaka, scrapping in the streets before martial arts gave him direction. He thought of the years he spent training in gyms around the world, sharpening every aspect of his game. He thought about his mom, back in Japan, and what she'd think when she saw him tomorrow, on the biggest stage in the world.

"Focus," Dean barked, snapping him out of it. Jay fired off a sharp combo. Dean grinned. "That's it. Keep that energy tomorrow. Redding's gonna push you early."

Jay's smirk was cold. "He won't last long enough to push anything." That cocky edge was always there, but it was backed by undeniable skill. Dean didn't argue.

The session wrapped up, Jay's shirt soaked with sweat. Dean slapped him on the back. "Go get cleaned up. We'll go over strategy again in the morning, but honestly, kid, you're ready."

Jay just nodded. He knew he was ready.

Later, back in his room, Jay sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at his gloves. The familiar knock at the door broke his focus. He didn't need to look. He already knew who it was.

Masami stood in the doorway, leaning casually with that same calm, assessing look she always had. "You really should rest, you know."

Jay shook his head. "You know I don't do that."

She smirked, crossing the room to stand beside him. "First fight jitters?"

"Not jitters. Focus. Tomorrow, I make my mark."

She glanced down at the gloves, then back at him. "Don't get too arrogant, Jay. You know what happens to those guys in the UFC."

Jay stood, pulling on his hoodie again. "It's not arrogance. It's confidence."

Masami just shook her head, smiling. "Alright. Just... don't forget why you're here."

Jay didn't need reminding. This was just the beginning.

The next morning came fast. Jay's eyes snapped open before dawn. No alarm. No hesitation. It was fight day.

The venue buzzed with energy as he arrived at the arena, the roar of the crowd audible even backstage. Dean and the rest of his team surrounded him, making last-minute preparations. Caleb Redding's face flashed across a monitor nearby-intense, focused. But Jay didn't flinch. He laced up his gloves, taped his hands, and stared at the ground.

The walkout was minutes away. His heart pounded now, but it wasn't nerves. It was excitement, anticipation. The beginning of something massive.

Dean gave him a last pat on the shoulder. "Let's go, Blitz. Time to show them what we've been working for."

Jay pulled the hood over his head as the lights dimmed. Seven Nation Army blared through the arena speakers as he stepped into the tunnel, the roar of the crowd growing louder with each step. He felt his pulse quicken, but his mind stayed sharp. Focused.

Jay was ready. The UFC wasn't.

Author's Not3: Alright, y'all. I'm using the standard writing with quotations and sh*t. Still not my cup of tea, but I'll do it for y'all. Anyways, have a good day or night, wherever you are!