Chapter Text
It takes several laborious tries before Kai is able to fully pull himself into consciousness. His mind his fogged and bleary, he is so disoriented. A familiar paranoia briefly washes over him before his aches and pains return through the haze of exhaustion, and he recalls where he is.
Reluctantly, Kai sits up with a tired groan, his head pulses in furious protest towards the action. He blinks the spots out of his vision and gives his surroundings a quick glance, just to confirm that his muddled memories are correct.
To his luck, they are. He is sitting sprawled in the middle of his apartment’s living room. Judging by the bright orange sun peeking through his curtained windows, Kai estimates that it is probably still morning – or he has slept the day away. Whichever one is the case; he honestly could not care less.
There is an attempt to remember what he did last night, but all he gets is a few disjointed pictures and a few more painful throbs to his head. Kai decides it is a fruitless effort and acknowledges that he is missing time.
So, he blacked out last night. He doesn’t do that too often – at least he tries not to. Despite everything, Kai is unable to sway the picture of Nya’s distraught face, so he does what he can to limit it. He thinks it was that last pain pill he took that really did him in (He is fairly certain he cracked a rib at his last match, nothing a drink and a Percocet can’t mask).
Kai notes that his right arm is asleep, and gives it a few hardy shakes before he uses it to wipe the drool from his cheek. Rationally, it might be a good idea to keep laying here for a bit longer, his mind is still swimming, and he doesn’t have the greatest confidence in his leg’s strength right now. Still, Kai grips his moldy armchair (it came with the apartment) and uses it for support as he attempts to stand.
It is thoroughly humbling when he fumbles a considerable number of times. He sits there for about a minute longer, partially to stew in childish anger, and partially to catch his breath. Eventually though, with one big push – using both arms – Kai is able to right himself. He even allows a little pride to bubble in his stomach when he only wobbles the smallest bit.
His body is sticky, and he might crawl out of his skin, his shirt clings to the curves of his spine and chest. Kai gives the fabric a tug just so he does not feel so suffocated.
The first thing he does is trudge to the kitchen. This apartment is so small it only takes about five pathetic steps before his feet leave the dingy carpet and meet the rotten linoleum. The floor creaks under his wobbly steps and Kai wonders just how deaf his neighbors downstairs must be, since they never complain about the irritating noise.
His hand shakes like a leaf in the wind as he struggles to find a usable glass. He only has like three, and he is pretty sure he might have broken one last night. So, two then. He takes the first one he sees (a cheap plastic one he got for free from some family diner) and fills it with the terrible, loathsome, definitely not-potable water of this place.
At the very least, it would be that horrid if he weren’t completely dehydrated. As soon as the liquid passes his lips, the normally abominable taste is like ambrosia, and he finishes the entire cup. Distantly, he thinks Nya would be happy. His ability to practice self-care has not completely disappeared… Well, mostly. Irrelevant. The liquid is like cool refreshing ice (it is annoying how that word makes him flinch now) going down his throat, and it blossoms to his lungs and leaves him feeling just a little more energetic.
His headache doesn’t feel so agonizing now. Well, it does, but he’s hungover, and there is very little he can do about that, but it does help that he has some moisture in his system. Kai eyes the fridge, he has a half-eaten sandwich in there. It might be good to eat something… No, maybe not, actually. He does not need more of an opportunity to vomit.
Now that his immediate need is met, Kai takes very careful, calculated steps to his bathroom. It is a little difficult, considering he absolutely cannot walk straight right now, but he is fairly sure a few places in this hallway are corroded. The last thing he needs right now is to take one wrong step and end up three floors down in someone’s bedroom.
It is a challenge, but Kai makes it without too much trouble. He hates to do it, but Kai takes a hard look at himself in the mirror. Said mirror is already cracked and Kai has never bothered to clean it, so with Kai’s added instability, and his clouded vision – it is awfully hard to make out any concrete details of his own face.
His initial feeling is disgust. Despite the blurriness – he looks terrible, more terrible than he usually does. He used to care a lot more, before… Well, before. But Kai is pretty sure his revulsion has more to do with the fact that he hates what he sees, and less to do with the alcohol still remaining in his bloodstream.
Even still, with some effort, Kai pulls his sweat-soaked tank top from his body. He throws it carelessly to the floor and gives himself the best inspection he can. He is mainly searching for any new injuries, but to Kai’s relief, he doesn’t find anything new to add to his constantly fluctuating catalog of gashes and bruises. All he sees is the black and blue he already knew was there.
Looks like Last Night Kai did not get into too much trouble. Good, he would feel so much worse than he already does if he had to play detective all day to find out if he accidentally killed someone or something. Kai does note that his is missing all the bandages he had applied many days before.
His eyes trail down his arms until they settle on his knuckles. They are marred with scabs and ugly blemishes. Usually, he has them wrapped with medical tape and gauze, just to help any fingers he might fracture heal at least mostly correct. Though recently he finds himself caring less and less. He had them on yesterday, so at some point – perhaps in an emotional break – he must have ripped everything off.
Kai grits his teeth; he has an ugly cut on his side. He earned it at least a week ago, but he still worries that he could have bled somewhere last night. Well, he doesn’t care that much, he just doesn’t want to have to clean it up.
It takes a little convincing, but Kai can make himself shower. He keeps the temperature no less than scalding, and does not bother to wash his hair, and only just enough body wash so that he doesn’t smell like a complete drunkard. He savors the way it stings his cuts, at least it proves he is truly awake.
When Kai gets out, his head is pounding again, and his stomach churns with a sudden nausea. Kai knows throwing up would make him feel better, but keeping that water in his body is his priority right now. He swallows back whatever bile tries to climb out of his throat, and rifles though his laundry hamper for any article of clothing that does not reek.
Truly, it feels like a gift from the FSM when he finds some sweatpants, and a large t-shirt. Tight clothes have their place, but when he is covered in various degrees of ouch, less skin contact the better. The heat of the hard water was kind to his joints, but now the contrast between that hot and the bathroom’s undeniable chill is making them ache in painful pulses. That pain mingles with the pang in his head and leaves him winded.
He plans to just ignore it, he is very good at that, but his gaze travels to the medicine cabinet above the toilet.
Kai pauses, and a familiar hunger fills his chest. He pulls his hand into a fist and squeezes, not enough to cause any lasting harm but enough to hurt and snap him out of it. No, he has aspirin in the kitchen.
He does what he can to sprint out of the room – avoiding letting his weary eyes fall on the mirror. There is a little more confidence as he navigates the hall, but he stops in his tracks just as he is passing the door frame of his bedroom, door left ajar. It is a mess, musty and unkempt, and from what he can tell, it’s the same mess that has been there for weeks.
The room doesn’t actually get used very often; Kai mainly defaults to passing out on the ancient couch in the living area. It’s closer to the kitchen, and even if he did sleep in the bed, the air conditioning in that room doesn’t work. For someone with an already above-average body temp, that is pretty much a deal breaker.
Besides, he is fairly sure there are rats living in his closet. They have not done anything to bother him. He will just leave them be. What really catches his attention is the small black rectangle resting neglectfully on the carpet by the foot board. Something ugly and hateful twists in him and momentarily closes his throat.
That stupid thing. Kai stomps over – although it is more of a wobble – and snatches the object from the ground, less than gentle. He flips it open, his phone. Sometimes he misses the novelty of his smartphone, but he quickly tossed it when… When he left. Nya could find him with it, and his conscience could not take her calls anymore.
To no one’s surprise, the device is dead. He makes a few feeble tries in holding down the power button, and it only flickers the first time, before blinking an accusing battery at him and fading to black again.
It is petty, and accomplishes nothing, but Kai gets some satisfaction from glaring at it as he shoves it in his pocket. “Typical,” He mutters as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him. Unless Last Night Kai did some rearranging, the offending item’s charger is in the kitchen, like every other saving grace he needs.
A hot wave of agony spreads from the top of his head to right behind his eyes as he passes back into the kitchen’s harsh white lights. He is completely blinded; spots fill and tear at his vision like a burning string of film. When the pain slowly, very, very slowly, starts to subside, Kai is leaning against the fridge for support.
With annoyance as his drive, Kai blindly swats until his flailing hands find the light switch. The room is cast in merciful darkness. He blinks his eyes until his eyes adjust, and he is not seeing stars anymore.
Food, he really needs food. He has some confidence that he will not double over throwing up now. His stomach is still turning like a steel drum, but he is a few steps away from passing out again. With that, he tosses his phone onto the counter, grumbling a few choice obscenities when his hands shake too much to plug it in on the first try.
The fridges hinges scream with disapproval when Kai pulls it open, and the agonizing noise sends a spike of pain through his brain. He winces and fumbles for something to fill his stomach. He takes the first thing he sees and takes an aggressive bite.
His sandwich is soggy.
_______________
The day is hazy after that. Kai spends a few choice minutes giving his apartment one last look-over, just in case there is something he missed, or Last Night Kai had hidden some trouble for him. He comes up dry, nothing suspicious, just the apartment of a miserable, scorch of a person. He must have gotten lost in his memories again, even his keys remain neatly hung on his key-wrack. Kai had not even left his house last night.
Truthfully, this confirmation is relieving. He was already fairly certain nothing had happened, but even while drunk, Kai is a ninja. He would not put it past himself to hide things so Sober and In Pain Kai could not find them.
Not the case, just your regular old, forgivable blackout.
Kai decides it might be wise to rest, which is something he hardly admits, but his head is pounding, and dredges of stubborn alcohol still linger in him. That paired with his already agitated injuries melds together to create something that is an entirely different kind of unpleasant. The couch is ten times more comfortable when you can barely walk, or think for that matter.
The powers that be must be feeling generous today, because Kai is able to fall into a peaceful doze without much issue. He doesn’t even dream, which is so nice. It is quiet and tranquil, no memories or forgotten reminders to sully his rest.
That is, until the loud blare of something wakes him. He startles so much Kai nearly falls off the couch and right back onto the floor where he’d started. His practiced grace is what saves him in the end, and he regains his balance quickly. Lucidity has not quite found him yet and Kai’s mind goes to the first place it always goes: An enemy.
He scrambles for a weapon, a dagger, a book, a chop stick, it does not matter. His head reminds him that he is a paranoid freak who keeps weapons everywhere, and his arm reaches under the couch cushions before his memory has even placed it.
Kai manages to form a half decent defensive stance, and it should be impressive because he only shakes the slightest amount. His eyes scan his surroundings with ease, despite his foggy mind he is at least able to pick out any discrepancies. His memory throws images of snakes and all powerful evils, his heart is pounding violently in his chest and it takes him a moment to register that he isn’t breathing properly.
Of course, once he does get that relieving breath in, reality comes crashing back down on him. Pictures and unseen threats vanish instantly as his mind catches up, and Kai is left standing like a fool on his couch.
It’s his phone. His phone is ringing in the kitchen. Hadn’t he turned it off? It must have turned itself back on as its battery life returned. More bitter anger rises in him, he really does despise that thing. He heaves a sigh, and it scrapes at his lungs, he did not used to be so jumpy. Kai momentarily debates just letting it go to voicemail, all the people who are in his contacts are people that he unquestionably does not like.
Still, Kai is not really interested in finding out what will happen if he doesn’t answer, considering his current condition, so he drops his knife haphazardly on the coffee table by the couch and stomps to the kitchen. He doesn’t even care if he makes too much noise.
With the same hatred and force he had used to at first pick up the device, Kai flips the phone open with his thumb, and despite his exhaustion, he releases a disdainful groan as he reads the caller ID. He has half a mind to deny the call right then and there, fuck the consequences.
He doesn’t, his thumb hovers over the green answer button, but he wishes he could, if not just to make this bastard angry.
The first thing Kai hears the second he answers the call is yelling. To most, this would be intimidating, to Kai, it is absolutely obnoxious, and the noise only worsens his ever-constant headache. A few more choice slurs get thrown his way before Kai rolls his head and commits to pressing the device to his ear.
Through the loud thrum of just noise, eventually Kai is able to comprehend a voice.
“-- uck aren’t you here? You bastard you’ve got some fuckin’ nerve blowin’ me off again I should--”
Kai can’t stop another eye roll. “-- Stop yelling at me, I just woke up.” He feigns a yawn through the receiver just to prove his point. That seems to help cease their shrieking, but Kai’s headache persists.
The silence lasts several more awkward seconds. “Why the fuck are you sleeping? You lazy son of a bitch…” The man mutters something else but Kai can’t be bothered in trying to hear what it was.
He is mainly confused. No one should be calling him today, right? Kai scans the kitchen til’ he finds the calendar he has hastily tacked to his fridge with a magnet. No, he is not crazy, and he hasn’t slept through a few more days than he had initially thought. Thursday.
“Why are you mad at me? I don’t even fight tonight.” Kai inquires, although his voice is so thick with sleep and gravel that it might be hard to understand.
There is a laugh through the phone, and Kai pictures punching this guy in the stomach just for making him hear the sound.
“You fight when I tell you to fight. You fight tonight.” The man says it with a tone of finality.
But of course, Kai rebels anyway, as he always does. “No, I feel like shit, and I fought on Tuesday, find some other grunt to fill the slot.” Kai leans against the kitchen counter, his ribs throb painfully as he recalls his match several days ago. To be perfectly honest, Kai can’t quite recall the details of it, he’s had so many at this point that they all slur together.
He thinks it was against someone in the same weight class as him – tall and slim, with a conditioned build – although he might remember them being a lot older than him. Kai won, but that is not that surprising, he usually does. His opponent was well balanced, good stance, but his stamina ran thin only after throwing a few hits. A lot of the fighters who volunteer are just low lives with unchecked violent tendencies. No real skill or combat experience.
Kai has both. So, reasonably, he wins most of the time. In this business, it pays to have a fighter who wins.
The man grumbles on the other end of the line. “No, Red, I got money already in the pot, you’re in. I got a lotta ladies in the house tonight, so I don’t care how fuckin’ hungover your ass is, you’re in.” He says it with his usual and continuous tune of asshole, but Kai can hear the faint undertones of desperation hidden beneath it all. He chooses to ignore the obvious objectification.
Names are kind of complicated here, Kai had learned when he first moved into this area. Kai isn’t stupid enough to use his real name here, especially when anyone could do a little digging and find out how far the famed Red Ninja has fallen. Even still, around here it is almost like no one even wants to know your name. Like it is a burden everyone is too selfish to want to take on. It’s only natural, Kai wouldn’t want to know his name if he was them either.
Here, his name is Red, simply because he is also the Red Shogun, and Kai has never been very creative with names. He is not very creative in general, actually. Maybe that is why he can never think of the right thing to do when it is of any importance. Oh well, it doesn’t matter anyway. Maybe it never has.
With that in mind, Kai does a quick check of himself again. He is going through unpleasant – but not unbearable – alcohol withdrawal, and his body is… Well, a real, qualified doctor would probably tell him to rest for several more days before even trying to fight. He could say no, this bastard is all talk – at the very least, he is while he is on the phone. They don’t know where he lives… No one does, so it’s not like this guy can hunt him down and make him fight.
So, Kai does what his stupid little head tells him to.
“Fine, asshole, as long as it’ll make you shut up.”
“Good, be here at eight.” And then the man hangs up.
There is s moment where Kai realizes that he has actually committed to leaving his house today. Nausea roils through his stomach, and he scrubs a hand over his face. He is perfectly aware of how idiotic this is, perfectly and truly reckless. Perhaps that is the reason he’s agreed to it. Who knows?
Besides, despite his obvious handicaps, he is decently confident he can fight effectively. Even if he can’t, Kai does not really care.
His eyes trail over to the microwave to check the time. Six forty-five, typical. That asshole, he has an hour and twenty minutes and he still calls him screaming.
A grating sigh escapes him, and he pushes off the counter, the movement pulls at his bruises and cuts. This night is going to be hell, but Kai can’t find it in himself to care. Any new injuries he gets tonight will fade, just as they always do. It doesn’t matter.
Vaguely, wonders if Lloyd is having a good day.
That would be nice.
___________________
He spends most of his time before the fight reapplying the bandages and wraps Last Night Kai removed in a drunken frenzy. He is gentle around his knuckles, ever sore and red, he has let them rest all day, which somehow has made the ache a little worse. Again, doesn’t matter, so he haphazardly reinforces with gauze, and leaves them be.
Ideally, his torso would receive the same treatment, but Kai doesn’t like how bandages restrict his movement in battle, so he usually keeps it light. He sort of dreads putting on his Red Shogun gear, but he won’t whine about it. It is not like he has the right, he did agree to this.
He is just the slightest bit more careful with his cut that may-or-may-not still be draining, but once the gauze is reapplied, he wraps it tight with medical tape, it shouldn’t bother him too terribly.
It is probably a little bit unhealthy, but Kai does take some comfort in the routine of this. Gives him something to focus on, other than… Well, he just likes to keep busy. His mind goes hazy, at some point habit takes over and he does not have to think about what he is doing. He pulls his hair into a loose ponytail, rifling around his medicine cabinet for his red face paint. His hand quivers as he rubs the paint onto his face, shaping out his typical Red Shogun mask.
When he first started this, his mask was very crude, nothing more than a child’s scribble on his face. Mercifully, he has gotten much better at it, now it is a sleek and intricate design on his skin. If he had just a little bit more self-respect, he might even say it looks nice.
He doesn’t, so to him it is purely functional. It is somehow effective at keeping his identity at least somewhat ambiguous, and the red pigment helps to hide any blood he might get on his face. His own or otherwise.
The time is seven thirty-five by the time Kai spurs up the motivation to climb into his Red Shogun suit. It is rumpled on the floor in the living room when he finally finds it, it is a little embarrassing that it took him searching the entire apartment to find the damned thing. And perhaps it is also a little worrying that he cannot recall the moment he last took it off and tossed it, regardless of it only being a few short days ago.
The thing is nowhere near as intricate as what he is used to… well, what he was used to. It is nothing more than a lightly armored red and black tank top, with some glorified sweatpants. He wraps his feet and wrists extra well, generally he can survive off of his callouses but lately the fractures have been affecting his matches. Maybe it would be good to start wearing boots.
Whatever, same as everything else, it doesn’t matter.
Fifteen minutes are spent on stretches. Normally, he only wastes about five minutes on it, but soreness is eating at almost all of his muscles right now, and his back aches from several nights of sleeping – or not sleeping – in very dumb and inconvenient places. He also spends a few of those minutes chugging water and doing some breathing exercises. The act is like murder on his blue and black ribs, but it helps to steady himself.
When Kai is finally confident enough to believe he will not collapse as soon as he steps into the ring later, he exits through his window, leaving all of his lights on.
Kai eyes the couch before he closes the window from the fire escape.
He hopes Cole has been sleeping well.
___________________
The Slither Pit is as lively as usual. Most of the time it is calm, but the air tingles with anticipation for tonight’s match. They must have gotten a pretty badass opponent for him, if the excitement is this palpable, Kai can sense the buzz of violence even from the stoic regulars. It is probably a bad sign that Kai does not even know who this guy is, but the bets for tonight must be high, he only has one fight.
Kai scans the room from his spot at the back-room’s doorway. No one has noticed him yet – by design, Kai is incredibly good at not being noticed – but it appears like most of these people are here for this fight. An hour ago, Kai didn’t even know he was going to be in it.
While the Pit is outlandishly full tonight, none of the patrons particularly stand out. It is a place for delinquents and felons to meet in a completely neutral environment. No one gives a shit here, and while Kai does despise pretty much everyone here… he can’t bring himself to care either.
Either way, they all started to look the same to him at some point, just criminals who bet on who can hit who better.
Though, he cannot truly judge them on that front, after all, he volunteered to do the hitting.
The air changes, it is almost minuscule, and no normal, relaxed, non-hyper vigilant person would notice it, but Kai is none of those things, so he swivels his head carefully. The adrenaline threatening to coarse through him dies down instantly, and Kai finds himself rolling his eyes again.
“You look like fuckin’ shit.” The man says plainly, not even slightly phased by Kai’s momentary paranoia.
“Oh, Sorry Saar, didn’t know tonight’s match was a beauty pageant.” Kai retorts, and such a snark would sound better coming from Jay. Coming from Kai it sounds cruel and monotone. Any yet, still Kai does not care.
The man, Saar, scoffs and points an accusing finger at him. “I told you there was a lotta females here tonight, an’ the other guy is ugly as sin, I need somethin’ to keep their ‘ttention.” He points his thumb behind him, most likely gesturing to one of the back rooms where the “other guy” is prepping for the match.
Kai raises his brows in reply. He had no idea how someone who was perfectly human could look so perfectly… Serpentine. Maybe Kai just doesn’t like him, but he could swear that the man’s ashy skin looks identical to scales in the right light. Maybe that’s why he named this place the name that he did, and why he mainly has Serpentine staff. Maybe this poor guy just really wants to be a snake, he sure acts like one.
Anyway, Kai realizes he has gotten distracted looking at the man’s hideous face and forgotten that he is part of this conversation.
“… So the only reason you made me come in is because you think women will pay for this.” He gestures with his head to the deep pit in the center of the building.
All Saar does is grin. “Sex sells, kid.”
“Fuck you.”
“Whateva’, just go try an’ look a little presentable. This is a show, Red, gotta look good t’ have a good performance.” The way the man states it as if it is a play or a dance is a little nauseating, and Kai decides it is best if he done with this conversation.
Kai only replies with a grunt. He is already walking towards the back when Saar finishes with, “You got five minutes, make it count,” before he promptly turns and walks into the Pit’s central front of house.
When he finds his usual room, Leona is already there. She is sitting sprawled on the ratty old couch, a cigarette placed delicately on her lips. Her hair is a different color from the last time he saw her, it’s red now, he could’ve sworn it was blonde. Her mouth purses into a controlled smirk as her eyes wander to him.
“If it makes you feel better, none of them are betting on you,” She says, tone playful, if not a little sleepy.
Kai scoffs, trudging to the sink to inspect if there is even a chance at salvaging his appearance. “So this train wreck was your idea?” He still is a little weary of peering into the mirror, but he does it anyway. He tries pulling and pawing at his hair, but he has never had much luck in getting it to listen to him.
The woman snickers behind him. “Well, I was bored.” The words roll off her lips like silk, as if forcing him to come in to fight is just a fun pass time to her.
He pauses, finding her in the mirror’s reflection. Part of him has several angry remarks to make, it’s not like he cares enough about the woman to spare her feelings, but they die in his throat. He does not have the conviction to be angry.
She doesn’t say anything while he continues the hopeless effort of attempting to not look completely hungover. Truthfully, Kai doesn’t know a thing about her. They exchange half-hearted banter every now and then, but it only really happens at all because she doesn’t leave him – or anyone else for that matter – alone.
Kai is… Not sure what she is. She might be a… An escort? But Kai is fairly certain she is something a little more dangerous underneath it all. The woman has a knack for getting into places she shouldn’t, and finding people she shouldn’t. Somehow, Leona has found him on a random roof on several occasions.
Perhaps it is in bad taste, but Kai is ninety percent sure she kills people, for money. All conjecture, but Kai’s instincts are not to be taken lightly.
Leona isn’t even her name; he knows that for sure. No more than Red is his name. He had asked her about it, once.
“I saw it on a billboard,” was all the explanation she gave, and Kai did not care to learn any more.
Kai becomes acutely aware of the ticking clock, and gives it a careful glance. He has a minute before he must be out there. He can feel the crowd becoming antsy from here.
“… Though, if you ask me, I might also be going for the other guy.” Leona announces, picking the conversation back up just as he is about the head for the door again. Annoyance roils in his lungs and the back of his head. It takes a lot of effort not to roll his eyes again. Does everyone in the damn city know who he is fighting, besides him?
Kai keeps walking. “I don’t care who you bet on,” he says firmly, hand hovering over the doorknob.
She laughs behind him. “Yes, I suppose not… Still, you might want to take a few Aspirin beforehand.” Kai can just hear the smile in her voice. Momentarily, he thinks of taking her advice, his head is still pounding.
He decides against it. The pain is there for a reason. Who knows, maybe she has tampered with the meds scattered around the room. That familiar paranoia pulls at him under his skin. He leaves without another word.
_____________________
The pit is deeper than it was a few days ago, or his perception is completely skewed. Oh well, a pit is a pit, blood and various other fluids still stain the pit’s walls and floor. Absently Kai wonders how much of it is his.
His mind is numb to the crowd’s shrieks, Saar’s front man, a tall and suave Hypnobrai, has already introduced him, the title “Red Shogun” passes his lips, and the room erupts with a mix of ecstatic cries, or furious boos. It doesn’t matter, Kai doesn’t care who likes him or hates him. None of these people matter.
The front man – Kai has never bothered to learn his name – spends a few minutes building up Kai’s contender, and Kai tunes in to the parts that might give him an edge. Apparently, a big guy, fairly accomplished fighter, well known around here. Well known to everyone but Kai.
“… Time for the moment for which you’ve all been waiting! I hope you have already placed your bets, because tonight’s match is going to get heated!” The announcer gets one more rise out of the patrons, then points in the general direction of the back-room’s entrance. “I give you… the Jade Conqueror!”
With that, all eyes follow his direction, and the tavern falls into a rush of hushed murmurs. Kai tries not to allow any curiosity to infect him, but he cannot seem to pull his gaze away from the door. Just as the anticipation is about to reach its peak, a figure emerges at last. Kai’s heart drops to his stomach, and ice fills his veins.
Perhaps calling this opponent a “big guy” is an understatement. This guy is a behemoth, Kai wagers he must be at least seven feet tall, and his muscles are so defined, Kai wonders when the last time this guy drank some water was. He wants to dismiss it as all for show, but the man is riddled with scars – and Kai is acutely aware of how similar they are to his own – that tell of experience.
True to his name, he has had a few more prominent marks filled in with bright green ink. It almost appears as if he is cracked in certain places, revealing a glowing green center. Lloyd appears in his mind’s eye, and that only shakes him more.
Kai knows how to defeat a larger combatant, he has done it before plenty of times, but Kai can tell just by the man’s demeanor as he saunters into the ring that he is confident. Skill can take you extremely far, but sometimes confidence can do just as much. Kai’s current state was already going to affect this fight, no matter who he was facing, but against this guy… Leona might be right not to bet on him tonight.
He schools his expression when he finally makes full eye contact with this Jade guy, he is absolutely not going to let his intimidation show.
People get hurt when you show weakness.
He knows the onlookers are just screaming, this must be the most exciting thing they have ever seen. Kai still cannot find it in him to care, they’re just noise, a distraction. Energy is already beginning its run through his body, and he releases a shuddering breath. The announcer hasn’t even begun the countdown yet, but Kai is already in a defensive stance.
Best to air on the side of caution, he has to be smart if he wants to win this.
What he is not expecting is the action to send Jade into a tizzy of uproarious laughter. Kai still doesn’t allow the shock to show on his face, but he can’t stop himself from blinking a few times. It takes several seconds for the man to calm himself down, and Kai notices that the crowd is laughing with him. It is in their nature to mimic the most confident fighter. The fight hasn’t even begun, and Kai has already lost half the crowd.
“Oh, my friend, you didn’t tell me it was a kid!” Jade exclaims, mirth still clear in his voice. Ah, so that’s what this is about. His mind goes fuzzy again, steeling himself for the battle. This could be useful, Kai usually doesn’t appreciate being underestimated, but in this situation, he will take whatever handouts are offered.
Jade must sense that Kai isn’t going to play along, for the audience or him, and Kai can practically see the moment the switch is flipped. The air shifts with the man’s demeanor. The man fixes his stance, not defensive, his first move will be an attack, noted. Fuck, this is going to suck. Vaguely, Kai feels the onlookers quiet down, tension fills the air. It is electric.
A long, crooked grin slinks across Jade’s face. Kai ignores the sickening sloshing of his stomach; he should have thrown up before this.
“… That’s fine, young bones always have a nice snap.” Jade picks up where he left off, although this time Kai suspects he is not saying it to excite the audience. Kai does not have much honor to spare these days, but he decides to reply with a very Kai-esch grunt. This guy is so pretentious.
He has never been particularly good at the taunting part of this. According to Saar, it is supposed to be a performance, and he is marketed as the “strong and silent” type to make up for it. Kai has so far been ignoring the thought that he is marketed at all.
The countdown has already started by the time Kai finds his head again.
This Jade Conqueror looks ready to kill him.
Well, he should have been dead by now, anyways.
Hyper vigilance kicks in further as the animated spokes-serpent counts lower and lower. One last deep breath.
Three,
two,
one.
Jade lunges first, and fuck, he is quick. His movements are practiced and swift. He barrels toward Kai with no hesitation, his eyes glint with violent intent. Maybe it is Kai’s imagination, but it feels like the floor rumbles with each of the man’s movements. In Kai’s exhausted state, he already cuts it too close as he dips into a somersault, narrowly dodging Jade’s right-hook. Cracks splinter out like lightning bolts from the spot on the floor where Jade makes impact.
Jay might say something funny, like he does on his show.
Kai hopes he has been eating well, celebrities have such busy schedules.
It is in his best interest to think fast, so Kai vaults across the ring and back to his feet. Then, only a moment later he sprints around the ring, Jade may be fast, but Kai is faster. When he has rounded behind Jade, Kai drops low, and tries his hand at knocking the legs out from under him with a sweeping kick. The FSM must be feeling kind today because it is effective.
Jade topples over, and Kai is actually impressed with himself, because for a moment the man has completely lost his balance. Kai from several months ago might even smile. Still, it is only a fleeting moment, as it only takes a second or two before he has recovered, rolling off of his back and hauling himself back up to his full height.
Somehow, he looks even more murderous.
He regains his balance, and shifts his body, gearing up for a new attack. Kai doesn’t allow him to get much further, still low as he swings back around to the man’s front, bringing a sturdy fist up to Jade’s abdomen with as much force as he can muster. It does not hold a candle to Cole’s strength, but the punch does make contact. Adrenaline courses violently through him, Kai cannot even feel the pain of his busted and cracked knuckles on the man’s firm muscles.
Jade releases a pained grunt and stumbles back, chest expanding to take in a few heaving breaths. Kai hops back several paces, Jade’s guard is going back up.
He fixes Kai with another grin, something like ecstasy swimming in his eyes. “Heh, been awhile since I’ve been this excited to kick someone’s teeth in.” He grinds out, still recovering from Kai’s sobering attack.
Kai just replies with a shrug. You hear one playful threat of violence; you’ve heard them all. He is half-way through planning out his next move when Jade has already started moving again – Kai overestimated his recoup time. His hand is outstretched – reaching to grab at Kai’s arm no doubt. He is geared up to dodge just as Jade’s hand is set to clamp around him, but a sudden white-hot throb in his brain causes him to stumble.
He can’t get out of the way in time, Jade’s grip on his forearm is vice and painful. Kai has no doubt that if the man tightened his hold, he could break Kai’s arm with ease. He is still reeling from the pain increase in his head when he is yanked from the ground and thrown up. It’s all he can do to hold his breath before Jade pulls back down and sends him slamming back onto the cold floor, hard.
Agony explodes from the center of his back where he’s landed, and awareness momentarily leaves him as Kai loses the ability to inhale at all, seized in a desperate coughing fit.
“You’re the tough guy they told me about? There ain’t nothin’ special about you!” Kai vaguely registers Jade saying, he grits his teeth and writhes a little more.
Experience tells him that another attack is coming soon, so Kai swallows down the pain and brings a leg up to where his arm is still stuck in Jade’s hold. His leg wraps around his elbow and pulls with all he has. It does the trick, Jade releases his arm in favor of making sure his elbow does not bend the wrong way.
Kai untangles and scrambles backwards in a few clumsy bounds. His eyes threaten to water from the strain of just keeping himself together, but he wills his composure to win over everything else. From this distance, he can see Jade flexing his arm a few times, assessing if Kai did any real damage.
Kai figures he did not, but he takes some pride in knowing that the man has to check at all.
His head rewards him with another borderline agonizing pound, and Kai does his best to avoid visibly wincing. He could care less if the audience sees it, but if he gives away weakness to his opponent, then it is lights out.
And, true to form, Jade is rumbling his way before Kai’s head is out of the clouds. He can’t quite escape the swinging kick, so the impact hits hard on his ribs and he is sent careening back into the pit’s walls before he can even process anything. Stars burst like fireworks in his vision and Kai is sure the wound in his side is most certainly bleeding again. Before he can even think of a counterattack, Jade is on him again with a raised fist.
He narrowly jolts his body to the right; Jade’s knuckles still graze his cheek. Against his instincts, Kai’s eyes go wide for a moment as he stares at the cracks Jade has put in the pit.
“I mean, they told me you were some fuckin’… Gladiator style fighter.” Jade mutters.
A familiar heat ignites in his chest, and there are quiet whispers that say, “Protect yourself!” to his very soul. The tension wracking his form no longer seems so bad, and he turns his face to look Jade dead on. His chest aches tirelessly, his head has continued to pound, and this guy is managing to beat the hell out of him because of it.
Jade takes hold of the straps of Kai’s shirt, and chuckles when he sees Kai’s expression. He must be glaring daggers at the man, and Kai hates how childish it makes him look. Jade tries for another go at tossing Kai over his shoulder, but – thank FSM – Kai’s instincts manage to save him this time. Jade is halfway through throwing him when Kai’s arms shoot out to take hold of Jade’s collar, mirroring his grip on Kai.
He twists, pivoting his body as he flies over Jade’s head, landing square on his feet. Jade makes a strained noise and releases his hands in favor of trying to pry Kai’s off him. It is a simple choke hold, but Kai uses the momentum from landing to push Jade as hard as he can, effectively pinning him to the wall.
Jade grunts, struggling against Kai’s shaking hold. Kai figures he cannot keep this up – his stamina is failing him, and dammit, his fucking head – it is only a matter of time before Kai’s arm can’t hold him anymore. He decides to take a moment to catch his breath while he can. The crowd is roaring around him, but he hardly hears it over the ringing taking over his senses.
He nearly laughs – he must look pitiful – so young and spry, and yet he is breathing ragged, barely pinning his opponent to a wall.
For a moment, Kai thinks he actually is, he hears disjointed chortling through that ringing. After a moment he is able to parse that it is Jade. He makes himself focus, Jade has turned himself in such a way that despite being quite stuck against the pit, he is his gaze is set squarely on Kai.
“… But look at you, barely even in this thing,” he rasps out, Kai’s eyes follow the crimson stream that drips from the corner of Jade’s mouth as he speaks. Just like that, Jade plants a hand on the pit and shoves hard. Kai is so shaky at this point he can’t offer any resistance and practically skids across the ground from the impact.
He is certain he has ripped up a few layers of skin under his feet, despite the stubborn callouses he has built up over the years. He doesn’t look down to see if there is any blood in his footprints.
And it truly doesn’t matter anyways.
Jade rounds on him and manages another hit to his ribs.
And another.
And another.
Another, another, another.
One last hit to his chest, and Kai lands in a heap in the center of the pit. He honestly cannot hear it anymore, but he is certain the audience must be shrieking. He is wheezing, but the air just will not take in his lungs. His vision swims and spins as he is forced to stare at the rocky floor under him. A few drops of red splash the surface, but Kai is too hazy to connect where it is coming from – him, definitely, somewhere.
Jade’s voice cuts through the static.
“You are lucky to be alive, kid.”
Something snaps, and all of a sudden, the pain and gasping is nothing as something hot and charged takes their place. Kai’s hand closes around a loose piece of rock, so tight his knuckles go white and shake from the pressure. Vaguely, something crackles in the air.
Lucky.
Lucky.
Fucking, lucky.
He pulls himself up, his arms shake the whole way, but Kai doesn’t even notice. Whatever that something was, it shifts from his stomach to his chest. A familiar power stronger than adrenaline pulses through him, and Kai barely has the sense to contain it. It burns under his skin.
He is not Kai here.
He is not the Red Ninja here.
He is not the Master of Fire here.
Here… Here, he is the Red Shogun. The Red Shogun can’t erupt brilliant, beautiful tendrils of flame from his very fingertips. He can’t face great evils without batting an eye. Hell, he is one of those evils.
But his blood is boiling, and Kai feels he might explode if he doesn’t do anything about it. And hey, who is going to notice if he gets a little too rough in the ring? This guy certainly hasn’t pulled any punches for him.
Kai swallows, breathing in one last gravelly heave. Absently, Kai thinks he might see smoke as he exhales.
His head raises, and Kai feels as if he is far away, he moves out of pure impulse. Heat radiates off him, Kai is thankful that no one is close enough to feel it. His eyes find Jades.
Jade’s gaze goes wide, and he takes a step back. His eyes must be glowing, he should blink a few times to silence the power stirring through him. That’s a new one, his power has never been this… unbridled. He used to have so much control, now he burns whatever he touches.
Sounds perfectly in character.
Movement comes so easily to him now; his headache is only a vague pang in the back of his mind. He launches, and it is already clear that Jade is done for now. Another surge of energy, Kai holds back even now, these people don’t need to know what he is capable of, not fully.
His aim rings true, and Jade can only stare in awe as Kai makes contact with his cheek.
He goes flying, it should not even be possible. Their size differences, Kai should not have the strength, much less the stamina to even hit with such force. But he does, or rather, his element does. Again, he is no Cole – he’ll never be Cole – but it is still… Almost inhuman. Maybe the FSM wanted his elementals to truly relate more to dragons, not to people. People make such terrible mistakes, after all.
There is a thunderous crack as Jade slams against the wall. The silence that follows is sickening. The audience has gone deathly quiet.
This must be unheard of. Kai was on the floor a moment ago, now he has thrown his combatant to the other side of the ring.
Kinda funny.
Heat throbs in his veins, stronger this time. Kai doesn’t fight it, he moves, and god – he is so fast when he is like this – it feels as if he has only taken two steps before he is clamping his hands around Jade’s arm. Kai might be imagining it, but he thinks he must hear a faint sizzle when his hands touch.
Jade is breathing fast, and he looks completely dumbstruck. Kai does not have any energy to spare pity, and that something that drives him, keeps him alive – it says to move. Jade must know what is coming, panic is evident in every feature. Jade sounds almost… Scared? When he speaks.
“… What the fuck are you?” He asks, and God – his voice shakes.
Good.
“Lucky,” Kai whispers sardonically, barely audible, maybe Jade does not even hear him.
He does not care.
Kai does not care.
He isn’t really present as he flings Jade over his head, and across the ring, leaving him crumpled against the pit, almost the same place Jade had thrown him before. He isn’t really present when the Serpentine ref jumps in and counts down from ten. He isn’t really present when the announcer holds his arm up and screams of his victory.
The air in the ring becomes stifling, his stomach boils like he has eaten molten rocks. Desperate hands paw at him as he climbs from the pit, but he ignores them. Most of them are just here to satisfy some weird violent urge anyway. None of them are brave enough to truly touch him, not with this many fresh wounds.
Whether they are cheering or watching with silence, Kai can’t hear it either way. His head roars with so much raw energy he cannot hear anything over it.
Fire still rules his every action, so he waltzes up to the bar and slams his fist on the counter. The few bar-bound patrons that did not care to witness the fight make room for him. Some chance a glance his way, he must look like hell.
Who fucking cares?
“Something strong, Cap.” Kai grinds out, and though he does try not to sound like a ticking time bomb, his body is practically vibrating.
The barkeep – Cap – pours him something and cordially slides it in front of him. Kai does not even give the liquid a look before he downs it in one go. It stings going down his throat, and perhaps it is contradictory, but the burn of liquor helps to douse the raging furnace in his chest. He could even lie this is the reason he does this so often; it helps him with control. It helps, it helps, it helps.
He feels stares on him, surely, they are appalled. Good, let them look at what a fucking mess he is, let them see what he really is.
He pushes the glass back, and Cap fills it back up, and Kai gulps it down easily. This repeats several times until Kai feels he might not burn the entire building down. With the fire in him dying out, the crash will come soon. It occurs to him that his breathing has been rasping for many minutes now, that is probably not good.
“Take it out of the bet pool.” Is all Kai gives the bartender before he saunters away. He is able to feign stability as he makes his way to his room in the back. He makes eye contact with Saar on his way in, he looks pissed. Kai nearly smirks, he wasn’t supposed to win that fight from the start.
Kai finds the room and slams the door behind him. Doing a quick scan, he sees that Leona has vacated the space. She has enough sense to leave him alone, finally. He finds the mirror again.
FSM, there is not a part of him that is not red, or black and blue.
The “medics” of this hellhole have definitely already hauled Jade away for “treatment.” Which, here that is more of a few sloppy stitches and a mouthful of Aspirin.
Better than nothing, in Kai’s opinion, but there is no way in hell he would ever let any of these people touch him.
Kai can handle most of the superficial wounds, it’s not like he doesn’t know how to treat himself – he’s done it his entire life, but he might need a little help with some of the more gaping problems. He knows a lady – she is an animal vet, but kind enough to lend him a hand (or sewing needle) should he need it. For a price, of course, with this crowd, it is always for a price. Not now, he should be able to make it to the apartment without passing out – probably – but perhaps he will try to call her later. He hates to wake her, but then again, with this little back-door business she is working, she should not be surprised.
He is pretty sure she one hundred percent knows his true identity; she is a very clever woman. Kai has never been able to put together why she doesn’t sell him out, plenty of people around here would pay good money to get their hands on the Red Ninja.
Maybe she took pity on him when he first crawled to her doorstep, completely mangled and festering. A seventeen-year-old, resorting to this life? How depressing, how pitiful.
How pathetic.
Saar knocks the doorframe two times, and Kai nearly jumps as he crashes back to reality. Adrenaline is long gone, and his body is beginning to feel all the stress he has put it under. He should really leave. He casts a weary glance towards the man, seeing his hand clasped around a familiar brown paper bag. When Saar realizes he has Kai’s attention, he tosses the thing carelessly to the floor. He seems to give Kai a quick once-over, as if he gives a damn about his condition.
“Next time, know when yer’ s’pposed to lose, Red.” There is something underlying in his tone that makes it abundantly clear that this is a threat.
Kai scoffs and turns to face the mirror again, vision blurring with the movement. He feels himself sway as exhaustion starts to get the better of him – he still has to make it home. Kai tries for something tough. “I don’t throw fights.”
Saar groans. “Fuck off you don’t, kid, that’s how this business works. Sometimes ya gotta throw, that’s where tha’ money is.” He sounds frustrated, and tired. Must be so annoying, working with a kid like him. Even still, this asshole deserves a little resistance in his life.
There are a few moments where Kai purposefully leaves a beat of silence between them. He trudges over, and it is sort of embarrassing, he is barely able to bend his knees to snatch up the brown bag. It feels light, typical, he used to be a protector, now he is someone to be called in for a quick buck. Heh, he even messed that up.
He finally returns Saar’s stare. He doesn’t even flinch at Kai’s injuries. Good, he shouldn’t. “If you want a fake fight, find someone else.”
The man makes a resentful noise, and turns around, anticipating Kai’s leave. “FSM you and yer’ dumbass honor codes – some people got folks t’ feed here ya’ self-righteous asshat.”
Kai rolls his eyes for what feels like the thousandth time today. “As if you give a damn about anyone’s ‘folks,’” he makes sure to infuse disdain into every syllable. He hopes it helps to mask the strain already pulling him closer to unconsciousness.
Saar grabs him by the arm and Kai does not wince. His face… contorts, but it is not a wince. He casts a warning glare at Saar, and he seems to get the picture, letting him go just a second later. Still, he looks fierce. “You don’t know what yer’ fuckin’ talkin’ about, kid,” Saar cautions, voice low. Kai should be intimidated. While Saar is not a very physically imposing man, Kai is fully aware that this guy has a lot of friends that could do Kai plenty of harm.
But Kai doesn’t feel it. Doesn’t feel anything, really. Who cares? It doesn’t matter. If he dies to some underground thugs, well, it is about time.
One little step forward, the room grows more tense, Kai has been growing some more lately – he stands at least five inches taller than Saar. A shallow breath, it stings his lungs like needles stabbing him.
“I know more about this than you ever will, Saar.”
Saar opens his mouth to retort.
Kai walks out before he can even make a noise.
__________________________
Getting home is challenging. It was not wise to take all those drinks, he might not have swayed and tripped as much as he did, but Kai can’t say he regrets it. He had to stop between Eleventh and Eighth street to tear up one of his pant legs to wrap around his chest. The plan was to just treat himself as soon as he got to the apartment, but his side – and other unseen wounds – left an unsightly trail as he was walking along.
Not that blood is surprising to anyone around this part of Ninjago, but still, what a mess.
His apartment of choice is known for… discretion, Kai has hobbled inside the building blacked out more than once, but he doesn’t like making it too obvious that he goes out fighting this often too obvious. Maybe it’s a futile effort, at this point he is constantly painted with bruises and mummified in bandages. If the desk clerk or his neighbors took two seconds to think about it, they’d know.
Even so, it eases Kai’s conscience just the slightest if he avoids making a scene. Not everyone here is some hardened criminal or druggy.
People fall on hard times. Kai knows that better than most. He won’t disrupt their lives with his own personal demons.
So, climbing back through his window on the third floor is pretty much hell, but Kai doesn’t complain. He deserves it, being the idiot who does the fighting, after all.
He should always be the idiot who does the fighting. No one else. Somehow, he failed at that too.
Dressing his wounds is more grievous than he was expecting. The rip in his side has fully broken and torn in a few places. It is ugly and uncomfortable, but thankfully it is not very deep. Along with that he has numerous crimson red welts and dark purple blemishes scattered throughout his torso. The worst of it is his ribcage and abdomen, but Jade got a few good blows to his jaw.
He should be enraged about that, the one good thing about him; his looks, and now he lives his life marked like a slave.
Oh well, beauty is fleeting, isn’t it?
The pain really should be worse, and maybe it is, but nowadays the aches all blend together en masse, he hardly registers it anymore. A good thing, really, numbness. It’s better to feel nothing, rather than everything, after all. He grinds his teeth as he sews himself up, and hisses as he is careless with how much Isopropyl he douses his wounds with, but it’s not bad.
The pain is never bad, at least, not bad enough to make a difference. The pain only counts if it kills you.
It should, he always thinks, but it never does. Never finishes the job.
It is nearly four A.M by the time Kai has given himself a thorough check up. Well, thorough enough, he is tipsy, and he can’t remember if he ate anything this morning – yes, that sandwich – but he doesn’t really care. He isn’t going to fall down and die, not tonight, so he considers it good enough. He prepares a quick cocktail of pain meds from his medicine cabinet – the stronger ones, not Aspirin – and downs them all in one gulp. It probably won’t mix well with the alcohol in his system, but hey if he has some sort of heart attack in the night, would it be such a loss?
He lugs himself back to his couch after throwing some sweats on. He completely foregoes the shirt tonight; he is already sweltering and his injuries need air. He collapses onto his stomach. His body protests the rough movement. “Deal with it,” Kai hears himself mutter into the empty air. He sounds as exhausted as he feels.
His phone is around here somewhere, he vaguely recalls tossing the thing onto the TV stand when he stumbled through the window, along with his bag of dirty money.
He hasn’t talked to Nya in months, she must be worried. She shouldn’t be, she doesn’t need him anymore. Hasn’t needed him in some time. No one has needed him in some time. No one at all. Kai has never wanted anyone to forget him before, but now he wishes everyone he has ever met would just… Stop thinking of him.
He shouldn’t even be here. He wishes so badly for everyone to forget. He so badly wishes he could forget.
He wishes he was brave enough to call Nya back. He wishes he was strong enough to protect his family. He wishes his parents hadn’t left them, all those years ago. He wishes the FSM hadn’t chosen them, any of them.
He wishes Zane hadn’t tried to be the idiot who does the fighting.
He wishes Jade had hit him just a little harder.