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Summary
“When you’re in the ring,” Harua says, “what do you think about?”
Nicholas nods to a heavy leather punching bag hanging from a thick chain. Harua walks over to it, presses his knuckles against it to test the weight.
“I don’t,” Nicholas finally replies. “It’s probably the only time I don’t think.”
Harua exhales, letting his next inhale bring the smokey bile of bitterness and rage up into his fists. And he empties his mind of everything except the urge to throw another punch.
Or: the world as they knew it has long ended. Harua learns to fight. Yuma only knows how to fight. Nicholas used to be the best fighter. Fuma wants Yuma to stop fighting. Taki is a sickly sunflower. Everyone likes giving and taking pain. Etc etc.