Bastard [ KANA / ASUKA ]

Laconic

[expressing much in few word]

2013 April 8 | Tokyo, Japan |

"YOU'RE AFRAID."

In the past 24 hours, things were the way it should be. He came back home to his apartment the moment the show had ended. The usual night spent in the gym, punching on the bags until he couldn't feel his knuckles for the entirety of the night. The feeling of air in his lungs turning into water at every intake. His muscles growing limp at every excretion he would force his body in. Then he moved his limbs back into his apartment to sleep the day away until the following morning to start.

Only for a woman who was inches shorter than him come face to face with him minutes before their match, just to insult him and get on his nerve. He had been calm, collected, and in control of himself for days now, the thin line of patience was no longer lingering on his mind as he stared at the multi-colored haired woman.

"I'd be careful with what you say, Kana-chan." His words, years had gone by in his time in Japan and he had learned the language, no longer did he need his fist to make them understand him, he can just open his mouth and speak venom after venom without precautionary actions aligned to it.

He made things work, in nearly doing this for sixteen years of his life, but this was the first time a woman—hell, an opponent of his in general, would make him so worked up on just a single phrase. Was it to annoy him? To make him angry was a dangerous thing to do, he wasn't in control when he's angry, he hurts people when he's angry, more so than what is supposed to be happening inside the squared circle. She was asking for a death wish.

"I don't hold back, remember that." He whispered—it was his final warning before things go out of hand. He wanted her to feel the last chance she's got before being forced in the situation they were both it. Years of being in this craft, away from his own country, it was all so he can make a name for himself, a name he wasn't never sure if it should be his own anymore.

"That's the plan." She winked before the sound of her entrance music surrounded the entire area.

He was left to stare into the empty space as she made her way out. It was brutal for him to say he'll make her regret her words, but what was he to do, he does what he says he would—whether he comes toe to toe with a man or a woman, why would they want him to face her?

He didn't have more time to think about the situation he was placed in as the crooning voice of Alex Turner began to sound, it was his cue for his own entrance. In just a plan black trunks and a leather jacket, he made his way out to the acknowledgement of the Japanese audience.

It was something he actually preferred compared to the obnoxious jeered of an American or even a British crowd. Japanese people were polite in their cheers and they knew when enough was enough. It was always his mission in life as he grew fond of the Japanese audience, how long before they would gasp in shock for whatever torture he was able to inflict on any individual he had the fortune—or in their case misfortune of being in the ring with.