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“Kya ha ha! You're funny! What's your name again?”
Shingo was used to being laughed at, in a way, but there was a warmth that came from the other fighter’s voice as she extended her hand that was entirely foreign - it sent electricity through his veins, made his palms sweat and his legs tremble and was altogether so exhilarating that he almost forgot he’d just lost the match. He reached out and allowed himself to be helped up, so captivated by her confident gaze that the scrapes and bruises she had just given him barely even ached.
“S-Shingo Yabuki!” he stammered finally, pulling his hand back and diving into a deep, stiff bow. “Thankyouverymuchlet’sfightagainsometime!”
She just laughs. He really was a funny one.