The Street Fighter. (Harry S. Fanfiction)

Chapter 1.

I slammed the red hanging punching bag with my clenched fists. It swung backwards then came forward at full speed, I side kicked it with the top of my foot which made it fly to the side. I struck it once more with my elbow before adjusting my earphones. "Another Me" by The Cab was playing at an earsplitting volume. But I didn't care. Loud music helped me focus. I rubbed my swollen knuckles before continuing  with my training. Another blow to the middle of the bag, another then another. I suddenly felt my earphones being ripped out from their places.

"What the hell?!" I barked, turning to face the idiot who interfered with my training. 

Of course. The only person who was stupid enough to interrupt me while I was training..My trainer,Dave. 

 "If you want to win tomorrows fight I would recommend fighting an actual person.." He said, eyeing the punching bag that was still swinging from my last strike.

"You volunteering?" I hissed. 

"I'd have you down in minutes Harry!" Dave laughed.

I rolled my eyes. I hated to admit it but he was right. Last time I fought Dave I was pinned to the ground in a matter of seconds. "So much faith.." I muttered.

"I've got Scott in the ring right now, how about the two of you have a go?" He asked.

I nodded once knowing that was an order not a suggestion. 

I climbed through the ropes of the boxing ring to find Scott warming up, he hopped from one foot to the other and struck the air a few times before noticing me standing there with an amused look on my face. Scott was good, but I was better. In fact I was the best fighter in this gym, except for Dave, but he didn't really count. He was 50 something and deiced training would be a good 'retirement.'

"Ready?" I asked.

He nodded. "Gloves?" 

I shook my head. "When do street fighters ever use gloves?" I asked annoyed. 

He nodded once and stood by his corner of the ring.

"Nice and clean guys..I don't want any broken ribs before the fight." Dave warned, leaning against the side of the ring.

I started hopping from one foot to the other, Scott doing the same.

Scott wasn't necessarily a bad guy, but he was cocky and I hated cocky guys that didn't even have the right to be.

He came at me first with a hard punch but I ducked and kicked out his legs. He slammed down on his back, but before he could get up I was on top of him throwing punches to his gut and face. My vision became blurry as I threw another blow at his face.

"Harry!" 

I looked up at Dave who was standing over the two of us. "Enough!" He yelled.

I looked down at Scott who's nose was bleeding and his left eye would probably turn black in an hour or two. "Save it for tomorrow." Dave hissed.

I pushed myself off of Scott and climbed out of the ring. "Maybe I should stick to the bag next time hey, Dave?" I called back to them. I could hear the two of them mumbling about something, most likely me. I can just imagine what they're saying, how I need to manage my temper, or anger. Both usually get in the way of my thoughts.

Tomorrow's fight was with some guy I've never even heard of. Most likely some newbie that decide he could actually beat me. I don't mean to gloat but I haven't lost a match since I was 17.

I pulled off my shorts and walked into the shower letting cold water rinse away my sweat. Dave use to say street fighting wasn't meant for everyone, but that it was defiantly meant for me. He said I was special...But I'm not special, I'm just really good. Street fighting is literally all I have so I put everything I have into it. Rage, hate, whatever sort of emotions that are going through me at that moment.