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There’s blood on his lips, it tastes like steel in Kotetsu’s mouth. He’s sweating in places he didn’t even know he could sweat.
He doesn’t care, he’s screaming into the mic, the crowd is going absolutely insane!
They’re hollering, waving their hands in the air, banging their heads to the rhythm of Izumo’s nasty riff that he just pulled out of nowhere! Holy shit, is all he can think.
They made it.