Chapter Text
The referee's voice booms through the ring on his scratchy microphone, followed by the scream of the people for more... Violence. They always need more. The single dim overhead bulb flickers and burns with eager content. There’s a joke around this area - the light has lasted so long due to the crowd’s energy - all that rage and screaming. Maybe it fed off of it. The light swirled within, mimicking the movement on the ring. Two men circle each other, each eyeing the other with intent to hurt… Looking for an opening to move in. Clearly, Akito wasn’t expecting his opening to be so visible to his opponent, shown by his inability to block the quick jab. A bit of blood splatters across Akito’s face from a punch that hits his nose, cartilage cutting into small veins and dripping down his face. A hiss of pain leaves Akito’s mouth as he looks upon his opponent with a disgusted glare. He lets out a snarl of anger, and his hand naturally throws a left hook that smashes against the other’s neck. Instinct, although maybe a bit too hard. His opponent dropped to the ground. Akito stood with trembling hands from the pain and adrenaline coursing throughout his body.
“Game over!”
Akito stepped over the man left crumpled up and bloodied, cradling his neck. He lets out a cold scoff. Pathetic. He grabbed his phone and left out the back door to the alleyway.
Outside, a sigh manages to escape from his gritted teeth. He wipes his bloody nose, the same hand dragging over his bruised and bloody knuckles. A weak grin formed on his face at the jolt of pain from the motion. His shoes drag across the concrete beneath him in an almost airy manner. A more tired look crosses his face. One of his buddies was out near the area, Taisei. Was he waiting for him? He caught his gaze and Akito found himself speaking first, “What’s up?” His voice is hoarse as he speaks, mostly from the current state of dehydration he’s been in since he got to the ring. Taisei looks almost concerned in his expression. Before the other male could even reply, Akito let out a sharp scoff, “Right. You got a cig?”
Taisei sighed. “You said you’d try and stop,” He murmured as he reached for his pocket. “Don’t overdo it.” Whatever Akito’s friend had wanted to say, he seemed to forget with the question. “I uh… better get going.” With an awkward wave of his hand, Taisei’s footsteps echoed in the hallway as he walked off.
“Well, that interaction was pretty much useless…” Akito muttered to himself. He had no clue why Taisei had even bothered waiting out there if he was just going to be giving Akito a cigarette then leaving without another word. Akito was left to his own thoughts, as much as he hated it. A puff of smoke wrapped its sweet hands around Akito’s body, causing him to cough a few times. Thinking back to the fight, he hadn’t even known the guy’s damn name. He wasn’t paying attention to the announcer beforehand, of course. Ah, God, It didn’t matter, and it never did matter in the first place. Just another meatbag to beat up, he told himself. He kept moving, ignoring the pain his shoes caused him—and his whole body, if he was being honest. The rhythmic sound of pacing filled the quiet alleyway. Why was it so quiet? It’s a Friday night for Christ sake. Just as he thought that a loud cheer came from down the stairwell, leading into the ring. Another fight either just began, or one just finished. A wry chuckle left his mouth. A buzz came from his phone and he blankly glanced down.
‘go home’ was all it read.
“Fucking jackass,” Akito muttered to himself as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Thinking he gives a shit about me. What a delusional bastard.” He found himself sitting down on the concrete, staring at his hands. The streetlight nearby flickered, illuminating his scratched up knuckles. Tonight, like he had thought, was eerily quiet.
If he recalled correctly, after 10PM it was “girl’s night”, right..? Maybe An was going to be there. She’s usually free. Akito found himself being dragged back into the ring out of pure curiosity. He pushed past people without making eye contact. Slipping in like a ghost. Inside, he found himself lost in the punches made by some girl and An. But the fight pissed him off. Why? An was going easy on her. He swore she was. This dumb brat in the ring, some basic bitch with blonde hair. What was An, a lesbian? Kinda contradicts the whole beating up women for Girl’s Night thing. He grimaced at the sight - watching despite the irritation boiling in his gut from seeing An going easy on somebody. She had been admitted to go into normal fights from her ferocity, why was she going easy now? Especially on some puny wanna-be? It was a miracle nobody was booing, especially with the reputation she had around here. To be fair, most of the people were probably drunk men with some assorted women.
Even after the fight with An in it, Akito was still lingering on it in his head. The ginger found himself re-watching the punches in his head, analyzing her throws, her hair-pulling, everything she did. Every punch she threw wasn’t characteristic of her. She was using a proper boxer’s stance, being clearly more controlled with her moves, and Akito couldn’t identify the reason behind it apart from An being a closeted lesbian. He clenched his jaw. She had to be one, her look fit the vibe anyways… It tingled within him and made him more annoyed than he had already been.
His heavy boots crushed against the gravel. With his hands in his pockets, he tossed out his long put-out cigarette into a nearby trashcan. The night was a sharp contrast to the unadulterated anger he felt deep in his heart, enveloping his body and strangling that hatred out until nothing was left. The cold air caressed his skin, leaving unfelt goosebumps rushing over his bare arms. The walk back to his apartment was annoyingly long.
Tch.
Akito’s night at Room 8 concluded on a bland note.