[Log] Shuuhei Hisagi, Yumichika Ayasegawa
Title: A Betting Man
Characters: Shuuhei (calming_effects), Yumichika (day_eight)
Timeline: June 28, 1943
Rating: PG
Summary: Shuuhei and Yumichika spar. Bets are made, punches are thrown, blood is shed, and... respect is earned.
They were only a week into training, and already, the newest class at the Police Academy was restless. Shuuhei could feel it, everyday when they filed into a classroom to go over law and theory, the restlessness grew like a palpable energy around them all. This was not what anyone expected. Sure, the police know the laws, but when Shuuhei thought of the police academy he thought of shooting guns, and learning to disarm criminals in combat, he thought of protecting people, his saw his new job as vital and important, and it gave him a chance to look tough. There was nothing tough about sitting in a classroom taking notes on common parking violations, so everyone was restless Shuuhei Hisagi included.
Whether it was the restlessness of the men, or if it was just deemed it was time this morning, the newest recruits were led past their usual classroom and into an open gymnasium with hard mats on the floor, which they automatically lined up around. Shuuhei could smell the sweat in the air like an acidic perfume and it made his heart speed up. The tall lanky brunet could feel the energy of the men around him spike too. The excitement in the air was like static electricity and jumped from one man to the next down the line leaving them all with a smile.
“Today we are going to see what you piss ants can do!” Sergeant O’Hare was pacing in front of them yelling with his sour breath but no one cared. They were going to fight today, finally something other then rotting in a classroom! “I don’t wanna hear anyone moaning if they get hurt, and I don’t want so see anyone holding back. When it’s your turn, you fight with all ya got, or ya fight me.” The class had started to shift back and forth on their feet in nervous energy. Everyone wanted to fight but few wanted to go first.
“Hisagi! Front and center!” Shuuhei stepped forward to stand where Sergeant O’Hare pointed, a smug smile touching his mouth. Shuuhei was finally going to get a chance to prove his worth and show these other recruits what he could do, and as far as he was concerned it was about time.
“Who wants to challenge Hisagi?” O’Hare smacked the tall man on the back almost making him step forward off-balance, almost. Shuuhei looked at the men facing him and waited to see who would volunteer. The tattooed man hoped whoever stepped forward wasn’t someone he liked because they were about to get hurt.
Yumichika laughed; a clear, silvery laugh that floated through the room before he had a chance to contain it. The other recruits turned to gape at him, some whispering among themselves about his apparent lack of sanity. Ignoring them, Yumi merely shrugged and continued to chuckle softly. It'd been a long time since he'd felt so ridiculously happy.
The last week had been disappointing, not to mention unbearably boring. It wasn't that Yumichika was unreasonable; he didn't expect every day of training to be filled with sweat-inducing workouts or adrenaline-spiking shooting practice. But, after a week of sitting in a stale classroom listening to an old geezer's lectures, he was beginning to feel a bit disheartened. This wasn't what he had signed up for. When were they going to learn important things, fun things? Where was the shooting, the fighting, the action? The need for physical activity was beginning to torment the battle-loving brunet, like an itch beneath the surface of his skin.
But no longer; the intolerable stretch of inactivity was finally over. Yumichika could barely contain his excitement as he watched Shuuhei advance to the center of the room. This was a great opportunity; now he could find out what kind of fighter his roommate was, and maybe even show off a bit of his own skill in the process. He stepped forward, a confident smile lighting up his beautiful face.
"Got something to say, Ayasegawa?" Sergeant O'Hare didn't look the least bit impressed. He crossed his arms and scowled.
"Sure," replied Yumi, his voice sugar-sweet. He smiled inwardly when the sergeant's scowl darkened. "I'd like to challenge Shuuhei."
The room buzzed as the other recruits started to whisper to each other. They seemed to find Yumichika's challenge quite hilarious; some even broke out into hearty laughter. None of them considered the pretty boy to be "NYPD material." In fact, there were a few running bets on how long it would take him to drop out. Bill Allen, a big lump with flaming red hair and about a million freckles, had lost fifty dollars when Yumichika made it through the first week.
Yumi, however, wasn't bothered by any of this in the least. He'd been underestimated all his life; by his parents, his teachers, his peers. He was used to it. He welcomed it. And besides... he always proved them wrong.
Rolling his shoulders, Yumichika wandered over to meet Shuuhei. He nodded once, grinning impishly, and then proceeded to stretch out his arms and legs. The conversations around him were growing louder, as the men began taking bets on the match. Unsurprisingly, most of the recruits were betting on Shuuhei. Yumi laughed again.
"I'll take some of that action," he called out, twisting around to stretch his back. A few men looked his way, unbelieving looks on their faces.
Bill Allen took a step forward. "A Nance like you against Hisagi? Man, you gotta be crazy. What, ya don't like money?"
"No, I rather like money. I like it so much that I'll even take yours," Yumi replied, rolling his head from side to side.
Billy laughed so hard that his freckles blurred together. "Fifty says Hisagi wipes the floor with ya."
"You're on," Yumi said, turning away. Facing his soon-to-be-opponent, he shook out his hands and took a deep breath. "How 'bout you? Are you a betting man, Shuuhei?"
The minute Shuuhei heard that musical laughter he knew he was in trouble. He should have known Yumichika would challenge him; his roommate had a confidence that, as far as the brunet had seen, was completely unshakable. The tattooed man couldn’t understand why so many of his peers doubted Ayasegawa, he had a grace and fluid movement that would undoubtedly translate in a fight, and he had balls, which was more then Hisagi could say about everyone standing around the mat. Shuuhei couldn’t blame Yumichika for wanting to prove himself, and challenge him. It was just a shame, he was going to have to fight the petite man, because he had liked him before, and he liked him even more now.
The bets being tossed around annoyed Hisagi. Sure he was like all the other guys, he was itching to stretch his legs and prove himself, but the bets were rude and unprofessional. He was a little surprised that O’Hare was letting them get away with it. Wasn’t this supposed to be a training exercise, shouldn’t they be learning? It was however not surprising when his opponent got into the action. Shuuhei knew he should probably bet for himself now, increase the playfulness of the upcoming dance, but he just couldn’t let himself, fighting had always been serious business to him. Something you bet your body and pride on, not your money.
When the smiling face of Ayasegawa Yumichika centered in his vision to ask if he was a betting man, Shuuhei offered a quiet smile in return. “Nah I don’t have that kind of money.” He couldn’t help giving his opponent a little bow of his head, before stepping back and getting into position, hunching, and unhunching his shoulders, patiently waiting for all bets to be placed.
Bringing his feet together and his arms to his sides, Yumichika stood still and tried to steady his breathing. His eyes closed for a brief moment, as he attempted to exhale the excitement out of his body. Adrenaline, although a helpful hormone, could make him jumpy and tense--replacing knowledge and training with the primal instinct of fight or flight. Although it had taken him many years, he had finally learned how to dispel that feeling, how to clear out unneeded emotions to make way for reflex and technique. Once he felt a rush of calmness flood through him, he opened his eyes and gave Shuuhei a solemn bow.
"All righ' ya noisy brats!" Yumichika could hear Sergeant O'Hare addressing the class behind him. "Settle down and let the boys fight!"
Taking that as the signal to begin, Yumi placed his feet shoulder-width apart and his hands in front of him, dropping one shoulder to complete the simple stance. His breathing remained smooth and steady as he waited for Shuuhei to make the first move. Although his style of fighting was fierce, it relied heavily on his opponent's energy. He could use a person's own weight and force against them, using their blows as fuel for his own moves.
"Give me you're best shot," he called out, ignoring the way the men behind him jeered. His eyes darkened as he watched Shuuhei closely, his face now serious with the weight of concentration. He took in every movement that his opponent made, no matter how minuscule, readying himself for the impending attack.
Yumichika’s bow was met with a deeper bow, before the world around Hisagi shrunk to two. This wasn’t a street fight, or a brawl, Shuuhei knew it was just him and his opponent; there would be no surprise attacks from behind, so he focused everything on Yumi. Unconsciously he mimicked the movements of the other fighter, widening his stance, bending his knees a little. His shoulders tensed the muscles along his upper arms jumped and twitched as he raised his hands to protect his face. Despite the tension along his body, his eyes that peered from between loose fists were calm, and patient.
Slowly Shuuhei began to circle clockwise, small side steps to a dance he knew by heart, sizing his opponent up. He was taller, which could be an advantage, he had the longer reach, but he had a feeling Ayasegawa was fast. A shift of his shoulders and he starts circling counter-clockwise, his eyes locked on the torso of his roommate, waiting for a telltale twitch.
A decision to not draw this out any longer had Shuuhei, stepping forward instead of the side, his right fist striking forward, but at the last second it pulled back and his left fist swung around the side straight at Yumi’s face.
Letting poise and reflex take over, Yumichika did his best to follow Shuuhei's attack. It wasn't easy; the scarred man handled his weight well. So well, in fact, that Yumi almost failed to react in time. As it was, he just barely caught the shift in his opponent's energy, and leaned sideways in an attempt to avoid what would have been an incapacitating punch. But it wasn't enough. Shuuhei's fist connected with the edge of his jaw, sending a surge of razor-sharp pain through the bottom portion of his face.
"Shit." Retreating backwards, out of Shuuhei's range, Yumichika paused and brought a hand up to his jaw. He could feel a bruise beginning to form, and blood was already flowing from where he had bit his lip. Spitting flecks of red onto the ground, he re-entered his stance and flashed his blood-stained teeth.
"Nice moves, Hisagi." His smile faded as he took a step forward. He had been hit, and he was bleeding, but the fight was far from over. Regardless of what the guffawing cubes behind him were saying, Yumichika was not going to give up. Seeing and experiencing Shuuhei's punch had given him a bit more insight into the man's style. It would only get better from here on out.
He was the one to attack this time.
With an almost effortless smoothness, Yumichika closed the distance between himself and his opponent in four hasty steps, carefully avoiding the other man's fists. His violet eyes glinted as he came in close; too close for Shuuhei to get any real momentum behind his punches. Finally in a place he felt comfortable, he reacted quickly, placing one of his own feet between Shuuhei's and his forearm across Shuuhei's chest.
The feel of willing flesh giving under his knuckles exhilarated Shuuhei and took him back to times he usually wanted to forget. When Yumichika spoke, he almost lost the sound of the words in the roaring of his ears, his adrenaline taking over, but he managed to return the bloody smile. This fight was not like any of the fights in the orphanage, he wasn’t fighting for survival. He had never known it could feel this good fighting someone to apparently enjoyed it as much as he did, and that mutual enjoyment went straight to his head, and gave him a high he had never imagined could be so easy to find.
A high to make him completely miss Yumi when he glided close and wrapped around him. ‘Get out of your own head Hisagi! Pay attention!’ Shuuhei glanced down into those violet eyes just waiting for him to make a move, his advantage taken from him in four or five steps. “You got some good moves too, Ayasegawa.”
He needed his petite roommate further back, had to regain his leverage, but any move he made would be quickly detected and counteracted long before the brunet saw it through. Best to just act quickly, and not think too much.
Long fingers fisted his roommates shirt, taking small pleasure in wrinkling his pristine clothes, and with all his power he shoved backward, stepping back to get maximize the distance between them.
Years of training and practice had turned Yumichika into a well-oiled machine. He was agile and graceful, moving with a speed and finesse that appeared almost effortless. Extremely adept at reading subtle hints in body language, he had a knack for anticipating his opponent's moves--and altering his own in response. And so, when he felt Shuuhei's hand come to rest on his chest, he knew exactly what to do.
Bracing himself against the push, Yumichika kept his knees loose and his body relaxed, so that he wouldn't lose his center of gravity. Then, shifting his weight, he brought his left hand down the inside of his opponent's extended arm, breaking the tension in Shuuhei's elbow and throwing him off balance. Grabbing hold of the other man's wrist, he pinned it to his own chest and turned sharply, using the hold on Shuuhei's arm to wrench the larger man around with him.
A low hiss pushed through Shuuhei’s lips of its own violation. He would never have voluntarily reacted. He knew later his whole arm would ache but for now the adrenaline was doing its job and he felt no pain.
After the initial reaction and twist which forced the tattooed man into a semi-bow, he allowed his body to relax and follow the turn of Yumichika’s. He even stepped into the turn, with his right foot, easing the angle of his arm. When his right foot came down from the small step forward, Shuuhei anchored it deep into the mat and slammed his left leg up, his knee connecting with his roommate’s stomach.
Instinct told Yumichika to retreat, to fall back and move away from the danger. Gritting his teeth, he fought against it, struggling to keep his body from doing what it wanted. He felt his opponent's weight shift, and knew that he needed to be quick. Using the pain in his gut to sharpen his senses, he altered his stance and counteracted with an almost unseen speed. Pivoting his weight, he reached forward with his right arm, bringing his palm to Shuuhei's knee. Ignoring the way his body screamed in protest, the lithe brunet pushed with all his might, using the ending force of his opponent's kick to send him backwards.
Damn he is fast! True it wasn’t eloquent but it was the first thing that ran through Shuuhei Hisagi’s mind as his opponent shoved him backward with a well placed hand on his upturned knee. He stumbled backward, arms wind milling, feet taking dozens of tiny steps in an effort to keep his balance. A part of him knew that if he went down this fight would be over and he wasn’t ready for that.
Yumichika knew that he didn't have long to act. His opponent was currently off balance, but that wouldn't last for very long. Sensing a window of opportunity, he quickly gathered his momentum and sped after Shuuhei. He knew better than to let such an opening slip by; even the smallest well-placed move could turn the tides in a fight. Stepping slightly to the side, he raised his arm and bent it, jabbing the point of his elbow down into the middle of his opponent's stomach.
All the air was forced out of the taller man with one well-placed elbow with a deep grunt; the impact knocked his equilibrium completely off balance and fell with another grunt.
It seemed to Shuuhei that he sat on the mat for hours his narrowed gaze studying his opponent but really he was only there for a second or two. He had just let someone less then half his size knock him down. The jeers of his classmates penetrated the bubble that had formed about them as they fought and Shuuhei was reminded of the setting. This was a training exercise and it was already obvious that while he had strength, reach, and power on his side. Yumichika had grace, speed, and knowledge on his. After this was over Shuuhei was going to have to ask his roommate so show him some moves. But for now, he had to get up.
He was on his feet almost as soon as he hit the ground, using his momentum to slam a fist into the brunt’s stomach, hitting him in the exact same place he had just been elbowed.
The ability to get up after a fall is an incredibly important one, whether it be in life or in a fight. If Shuuhei had hesitated a moment longer, Yumichika could have brought their sparring session to an end with minimal effort. As it was, however, the smaller man barely had time to complete the move before his opponent had recovered from it. His violet eyes widened fractionally, a swell of admiration surfacing on his features as he watched the scarred man leap back into the action. Although he lacked a certain amount of grace, Shuuhei was definitely not to be taken lightly. And neither was his fist, which was now soaring towards Yumi's body with a velocity sure to break bones.
Taking quick note of his opponent's speed and range, Yumichika countered by taking a step back, dodging the punch by a matter of millimeters. Quickly, in a flurry of arms and hands, he took hold of Shuuhei's outstretched arm, one of his hands at his attacker's wrist and the other at his elbow. Using the awkward leverage, he twisted his colleague's arm inward, so as to force his opponent into a kneeling position. If done correctly, he could have dislocated Shuuhei's shoulder, but it happened at such a high speed that his grip wasn't nearly as tight as he would have liked it to be.
One second Shuuhei was aiming to land a solid punch, the next he was on one knee in front of Yumi with his arm twisted at an odd angle again. This was becoming more and more frustrating. Every move he made was counteracted, he longed for the feel of that willing flesh under his hand again. As shocking as it may have been to people looking at the scarred man, he wasn’t the best at avoiding or preventing his attackers, he was good at taking the damage and fighting past it, so his roommates continued counters were starting to really grate on his nerves.
From his forced kneeling position he took out his frustration with his weaker left hand, aiming a direct blow to his opponent’s side, the closeness of their bodies making up for the less POW this blow carried.
The hold that Yumichika had on Shuuhei's wrist gave him a special insight into the larger man's movement. He could feel the tension in his opponent's muscles, sense when they coiled and relaxed, and make a guess as to what was coming next. However, since their proximity was so close, he didn't have time to dodge the impending punch. Instead, he tried to roll with it, attempting to absorb the force of the blow. He succeeded in lessening the impact, but the fact remained that Shuuhei was like a spring-loaded canon. It still hurt like hell.
Letting out a hiss between clenched teeth, Yumi slouched to the side, his body trying to compensate for the new pain. Knowing that this could leave him vulnerable, he dropped Shuuhei's wrist in an attempt to defend himself, bringing his hands up to guard his face. As he moved, an idea suddenly struck him, and he acted on it without a second thought. He dropped his shoulder and deepened his sideways lean, using the weight of his body to keep him balanced. Then, with as much force as he could muster, he pulled up his knee and sent it flying towards Shuuhei's face.
The moment his fist landed and Yumichika dropped his wrist Shuuhei knew he was probably in trouble. Surely the blow had not hurt his roommate enough to have him drop the wrist, a tuning fork into the tensions of his body. It was with a slightly distracted glance to the beautiful face above him that Shuuhei was completely unaware of the knee slamming into his cheekbone until it had connected with full force. And damn didn’t Yumi have pointy knees! The blow rocked the brunet’s head to the side, a bruise already spreading across his cheek and around his watering eye, when he straightened.
He knew that even though a blow had been landed, his hands were free and now was his chance to get back to his feet, so despite the blossoming electric pain on his face he stood in one fluid movement, his fist aimed up and under pretty-boy’s chin.
In that moment, Yumichika perceived what he believed to be a weakness in his opponent's approach. Well, perhaps it wasn't actually a weakness, but it was definitely something he could use to his advantage. The way that Shuuhei hadn't dodged the kick--hadn't even seen it coming--suggested that he wasn't paying attention to Yumi's feet. It made sense. All of Shuuhei's moves, save one, had been punches. He certainly seemed to favor his fists, and, in an ordinary fight, he probably could have gotten away with it. There was enough brute force behind his punches to take down a raging bull. However, Yumichika was far from an average opponent. His advantage wasn't in his strength, but in his technique. He used his mind more than his fists, relying on his quick thinking and reflexes to give him an edge. It was that quick thinking that made him attempt another kick.
He straightened and leaned backwards to evade Shuuhei's punch. The larger man's fist came so close to his face that he could feel the air it displaced rush against his lips. Jumping back, he turned on his heel and sank his weight into his right leg. Swiveling slightly, he threw his torso sideways so fast that he would have fallen over had his balance been anything less than perfect. His left leg came up in a flash, his thigh level and his lower leg swinging through like the end of a whip. At the last minute, he threw his weight into it, coming up on his right toe and lurching his hip. He hit the front of Shuuhei's shoulder with a flexed foot, the brunt of his force riding down his leg, through his heel, and into his opponent's body.
The momentum he had aimed at Yumi threw him right into that kick, his shoulder all the way down his arm went numb, then tingly, his pretty boy had obvious hit a nerve. This whole tussle was getting on his nerves at this point. Shuuhei was a good fighter; he had always won the scuffles at the orphanage. He had natural talent damn it. And now his own roommate was making him look like a fool, once again the fact he would have to ask for some pointers flashed through his mind, but first he had to finish this fight.
He ducked his shoulder shrugging off the others foot, his eyes narrowed in anger. A strange sound surrounded them, as he rushed the other fighter, grabbing handfuls of his shoulder and plowing him backward, the recruits scattering to get out of the way of Shuuhei as he shoved Yumichika’s back hard against the wall of the gym. His voice tore through him in a dull roar, that strange sound his own annoyance vocalized.
Yumichika’s eyes lit up at Shuuhei’s sudden outburst of anger. He would have laughed, but all of air had been forced clean out of his lungs. The back of his head was starting to throb from where it had smacked against the wall, and he could feel a bruise beginning to form on his shoulder blade. But, as much as it hurt, he couldn’t stop the grin that pulled across his face. Shuuhei’s irritation was not surprising, nor was it uncalled for-but that didn’t make it any less amusing. The sheer frustration in the larger man’s yell was exhilarating; Yumi could feel it tingle across his skin like electricity. Finally... some anger, some violence. He breathed it in, relishing the intoxicating rush that came with it.
This was what he had been relying on, his goal all along. An opponent like Shuuhei was a fearsome one; any one of those heavy punches could bring about incredible pain or worse. They were definitely unevenly matched in terms of brute strength, so Yumichika had been counting on his quickness to wear other man out. Shuuhei had been putting a lot of effort into each move-a lot of strength, momentum, and energy. And, after that impressive display of might, he had to be feeling at least a little bit winded. It was time for Yumichika to strike.
After catching his breath, he reached up and placed his open palms on his opponent’s chest. Raising his right leg, he brought his heel to the inner corner of Shuuhei’s opposite knee. Then, bracing himself against the wall, he pushed with both his hands and his foot-his hands forcing Shuuhei’s upper body away, while his heel caused the larger man’s knee to collapse.
That smirk on his face, pissed him off but also made the dull roar stop and a slightly embarrassed look crossed the scarred face. This was fun, he was making a fool of himself but God it felt good to fight with someone who enjoyed it, someone who he would still be friends with when this was all over.
He panted, his body shook as the adrenaline that had been surging through him started to fade from his system. This fight needed to end soon he was getting toward the end of his strength. He had learned the hard way to fight all out, until someone was done. The idea of conserving his energy was pointless. It defeated the purpose of a fight, in his mind, or had until he looked into those smiling eyes and realized he was the only fighter winded.
The thought hit him about the same time his knee crumbled, knocking him backward and to the side his on hand snapped out to catch him on the opposing wall. An intense throbbing radiated up from the joint. Yeah the adrenaline was almost out, he felt pain now in more than just a faint ache at the edges of his mind.
Shuuhei gritted his teeth and stepped into a right hook all his weight behind it.
There was no sign of exhaustion in the speed of Shuuhei’s recovery, no hint of fatigue in the aim of his fist. Yumichika knew that he needed to end the fight soon, before one of those killer punches managed to find its way to his pretty face. He wasn’t sure what course of action to take. There were plenty of options, but he wanted a move with a bit of flair-something that was as beautiful as it was efficient. What was the point in winning if he didn’t win in style?
He paused for the briefest of seconds, holding his ground as he waited for the other fighter to come closer. Then, as Shuuhei’s fist began to swing around toward his face, Yumichika crouched down and drew back his left hand. He hit his opponent in the ribs, putting just enough weight behind the punch to make it hurt. Once the blow had forced Shuuhei to bend slightly, Yumichika grabbed hold of the larger man’s forearm and drew it up over his head. Throwing the left over momentum from Shuuhei’s punch and most of his own strength into the attack, Yumi tightened his grip and pulled his roommate’s arm down toward the ground. The move flipped Shuuhei off his feet and sent him sprawling onto the mat. A loud noise, somewhere between a smack and a thud, resonated throughout the gym.
Then, just to make sure that his roommate wouldn’t get any bright ideas, Yumichika took a step forward and twisted Shuuhei’s arm at an odd angle-ensuring that the larger man wouldn't be able to get up without dislocating his elbow.
Shuuhei blinked blankly at the ceiling he was suddenly staring at. The force of his body slamming into the mat started to trickle through his skin as an odd cold tingly burning feeling. ”What just happened?” He thought, but his mind couldn’t come up with an answer. He took his free hand and patted the back of Yumi’s leg signaling he could let go Shuuhei wasn’t going to do anything now. It was all he could do to breathe.
He hurt all over, and as the cold tingle turned into something much meaner with teeth gnawing on him with merciless intent, he longed for that initial chill. He also longed to know what happened and how he could do it.
He could hear the shocked silence of the room erupt into a roar as everyone realized he had just been beaten, and beaten badly, by Yumichika Ayasegawa. People were bitching and whining, money was changing hands, people were calling him all kinds of names, but he couldn’t care less. He felt…odd…as if something had shaken loose in his head when he was reintroduced to the earth. He wasn't embarrassed; he didn’t rush to get up. He let his roommate have his due pride at a stunning victory, while he laid there in defeat and tried to sort out his mind while under the influence of this sudden clarity.
Of all the highs in the world, be they natural or drug-induced, the thrill of victory was by far the best. Nothing could compare to the sudden rush of euphoria, the burst of energy, or the feeling of accomplishment. And, although he had only won a simple sparring match, Yumichika couldn’t help but bask in it. He took a moment to indulge himself, savoring the leftover adrenaline that was coursing through his veins. It was a brief moment, but a satisfying one.
However, it wasn’t long before the commotion behind him had grown loud enough to catch his attention. Glancing around, he began searching the room for a certain freckled face. He had to laugh when his gaze fell on Bill Allen’s retreating figure. The poor lump was trying to sneak away unseen, as if he actually expected to run off with his pockets full. Honestly... didn’t any of these cubes have brains?
“Hey, Bill,” Yumi called out, a devious grin lighting up his face. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Bill stiffened, his beady eyes narrowing as he muttered something under his breath.
“I’m afraid I can’t hear you,” Yumi said, smoothing out the front of his shirt as he walked toward the grumbling man. His eyes darkened as he held out his hand. “I believe you have something for me.”
After a few more mumbled words, Bill finally reached for his wallet. He begrudgingly handed over the owed amount, before storming away like a disgruntled teenager.
Silly, silly man.
Yumi turned and walked back to center of the room, pocketing the money as he went. A look of concern fell over his face as he crouched down next to Shuuhei’s shoulder. “Think you’re going to make it, or should I call for help?”
The delicate and bruising face of his roommate re-entered Shuuhei’s limited field of vision glowing with victory, and the supine recruit couldn’t help but grin. “No no need to call for help…just…what happened?” He started to stir, his weight shifting he forced himself into a sitting position, his lower back screamed at him but he ignored it. This new position put their faces oddly close Shuuhei winked and turned his torso to plant both hands at his other side and forced himself to his feet. His butt passed close by Yumi, but he figured that was what he got for not offering a helping hand himself.
“And most importantly,” He continued now standing, one hand pressed into his bruised cheekbone. “Can you teach me to do it?”
He let Shuuhei get up on his own; not because he was inconsiderate, but because it was important. It was part of the learning experience, a matter of pride. A man’s body could heal relatively quickly, but a damaged reputation took longer to repair. The room was still full of recruits who looked up to Shuuhei as a leader and a man. And so Yumichika withheld his hand, watching with interest as the scarred brunet stood. Interest... and a bit of amusement, as well.
His roommate’s question surprised him; impressed him, really. He grinned as he stood, stepping back to give Shuuhei some space. “Sure, I can teach you,” he replied. None of his defeated opponents had ever asked him for advice before; they had all stormed off, muttering complaints through bleeding lips. A bit of Shuuhei’s character had come out in that simple question-his will to improve, not to mention his acceptance of Yumichika. It did not go unappreciated.
“But first,” Yumi continued, his voice taking on a more teasing tone, “let’s get you some ice and a few drinks. Bill’s buying.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he lead the way to the door. Before he left the room, he threw one last glance around at the recruits behind him. Their expressions were no longer stunned or angry. In fact, they were almost... accepting. It seemed as if the fight had earned Yumichika a bit of their respect.
...which meant that he owed Shuuhei more than just a few drinks.
Characters: Shuuhei (calming_effects), Yumichika (day_eight)
Timeline: June 28, 1943
Rating: PG
Summary: Shuuhei and Yumichika spar. Bets are made, punches are thrown, blood is shed, and... respect is earned.
They were only a week into training, and already, the newest class at the Police Academy was restless. Shuuhei could feel it, everyday when they filed into a classroom to go over law and theory, the restlessness grew like a palpable energy around them all. This was not what anyone expected. Sure, the police know the laws, but when Shuuhei thought of the police academy he thought of shooting guns, and learning to disarm criminals in combat, he thought of protecting people, his saw his new job as vital and important, and it gave him a chance to look tough. There was nothing tough about sitting in a classroom taking notes on common parking violations, so everyone was restless Shuuhei Hisagi included.
Whether it was the restlessness of the men, or if it was just deemed it was time this morning, the newest recruits were led past their usual classroom and into an open gymnasium with hard mats on the floor, which they automatically lined up around. Shuuhei could smell the sweat in the air like an acidic perfume and it made his heart speed up. The tall lanky brunet could feel the energy of the men around him spike too. The excitement in the air was like static electricity and jumped from one man to the next down the line leaving them all with a smile.
“Today we are going to see what you piss ants can do!” Sergeant O’Hare was pacing in front of them yelling with his sour breath but no one cared. They were going to fight today, finally something other then rotting in a classroom! “I don’t wanna hear anyone moaning if they get hurt, and I don’t want so see anyone holding back. When it’s your turn, you fight with all ya got, or ya fight me.” The class had started to shift back and forth on their feet in nervous energy. Everyone wanted to fight but few wanted to go first.
“Hisagi! Front and center!” Shuuhei stepped forward to stand where Sergeant O’Hare pointed, a smug smile touching his mouth. Shuuhei was finally going to get a chance to prove his worth and show these other recruits what he could do, and as far as he was concerned it was about time.
“Who wants to challenge Hisagi?” O’Hare smacked the tall man on the back almost making him step forward off-balance, almost. Shuuhei looked at the men facing him and waited to see who would volunteer. The tattooed man hoped whoever stepped forward wasn’t someone he liked because they were about to get hurt.
Yumichika laughed; a clear, silvery laugh that floated through the room before he had a chance to contain it. The other recruits turned to gape at him, some whispering among themselves about his apparent lack of sanity. Ignoring them, Yumi merely shrugged and continued to chuckle softly. It'd been a long time since he'd felt so ridiculously happy.
The last week had been disappointing, not to mention unbearably boring. It wasn't that Yumichika was unreasonable; he didn't expect every day of training to be filled with sweat-inducing workouts or adrenaline-spiking shooting practice. But, after a week of sitting in a stale classroom listening to an old geezer's lectures, he was beginning to feel a bit disheartened. This wasn't what he had signed up for. When were they going to learn important things, fun things? Where was the shooting, the fighting, the action? The need for physical activity was beginning to torment the battle-loving brunet, like an itch beneath the surface of his skin.
But no longer; the intolerable stretch of inactivity was finally over. Yumichika could barely contain his excitement as he watched Shuuhei advance to the center of the room. This was a great opportunity; now he could find out what kind of fighter his roommate was, and maybe even show off a bit of his own skill in the process. He stepped forward, a confident smile lighting up his beautiful face.
"Got something to say, Ayasegawa?" Sergeant O'Hare didn't look the least bit impressed. He crossed his arms and scowled.
"Sure," replied Yumi, his voice sugar-sweet. He smiled inwardly when the sergeant's scowl darkened. "I'd like to challenge Shuuhei."
The room buzzed as the other recruits started to whisper to each other. They seemed to find Yumichika's challenge quite hilarious; some even broke out into hearty laughter. None of them considered the pretty boy to be "NYPD material." In fact, there were a few running bets on how long it would take him to drop out. Bill Allen, a big lump with flaming red hair and about a million freckles, had lost fifty dollars when Yumichika made it through the first week.
Yumi, however, wasn't bothered by any of this in the least. He'd been underestimated all his life; by his parents, his teachers, his peers. He was used to it. He welcomed it. And besides... he always proved them wrong.
Rolling his shoulders, Yumichika wandered over to meet Shuuhei. He nodded once, grinning impishly, and then proceeded to stretch out his arms and legs. The conversations around him were growing louder, as the men began taking bets on the match. Unsurprisingly, most of the recruits were betting on Shuuhei. Yumi laughed again.
"I'll take some of that action," he called out, twisting around to stretch his back. A few men looked his way, unbelieving looks on their faces.
Bill Allen took a step forward. "A Nance like you against Hisagi? Man, you gotta be crazy. What, ya don't like money?"
"No, I rather like money. I like it so much that I'll even take yours," Yumi replied, rolling his head from side to side.
Billy laughed so hard that his freckles blurred together. "Fifty says Hisagi wipes the floor with ya."
"You're on," Yumi said, turning away. Facing his soon-to-be-opponent, he shook out his hands and took a deep breath. "How 'bout you? Are you a betting man, Shuuhei?"
The minute Shuuhei heard that musical laughter he knew he was in trouble. He should have known Yumichika would challenge him; his roommate had a confidence that, as far as the brunet had seen, was completely unshakable. The tattooed man couldn’t understand why so many of his peers doubted Ayasegawa, he had a grace and fluid movement that would undoubtedly translate in a fight, and he had balls, which was more then Hisagi could say about everyone standing around the mat. Shuuhei couldn’t blame Yumichika for wanting to prove himself, and challenge him. It was just a shame, he was going to have to fight the petite man, because he had liked him before, and he liked him even more now.
The bets being tossed around annoyed Hisagi. Sure he was like all the other guys, he was itching to stretch his legs and prove himself, but the bets were rude and unprofessional. He was a little surprised that O’Hare was letting them get away with it. Wasn’t this supposed to be a training exercise, shouldn’t they be learning? It was however not surprising when his opponent got into the action. Shuuhei knew he should probably bet for himself now, increase the playfulness of the upcoming dance, but he just couldn’t let himself, fighting had always been serious business to him. Something you bet your body and pride on, not your money.
When the smiling face of Ayasegawa Yumichika centered in his vision to ask if he was a betting man, Shuuhei offered a quiet smile in return. “Nah I don’t have that kind of money.” He couldn’t help giving his opponent a little bow of his head, before stepping back and getting into position, hunching, and unhunching his shoulders, patiently waiting for all bets to be placed.
Bringing his feet together and his arms to his sides, Yumichika stood still and tried to steady his breathing. His eyes closed for a brief moment, as he attempted to exhale the excitement out of his body. Adrenaline, although a helpful hormone, could make him jumpy and tense--replacing knowledge and training with the primal instinct of fight or flight. Although it had taken him many years, he had finally learned how to dispel that feeling, how to clear out unneeded emotions to make way for reflex and technique. Once he felt a rush of calmness flood through him, he opened his eyes and gave Shuuhei a solemn bow.
"All righ' ya noisy brats!" Yumichika could hear Sergeant O'Hare addressing the class behind him. "Settle down and let the boys fight!"
Taking that as the signal to begin, Yumi placed his feet shoulder-width apart and his hands in front of him, dropping one shoulder to complete the simple stance. His breathing remained smooth and steady as he waited for Shuuhei to make the first move. Although his style of fighting was fierce, it relied heavily on his opponent's energy. He could use a person's own weight and force against them, using their blows as fuel for his own moves.
"Give me you're best shot," he called out, ignoring the way the men behind him jeered. His eyes darkened as he watched Shuuhei closely, his face now serious with the weight of concentration. He took in every movement that his opponent made, no matter how minuscule, readying himself for the impending attack.
Yumichika’s bow was met with a deeper bow, before the world around Hisagi shrunk to two. This wasn’t a street fight, or a brawl, Shuuhei knew it was just him and his opponent; there would be no surprise attacks from behind, so he focused everything on Yumi. Unconsciously he mimicked the movements of the other fighter, widening his stance, bending his knees a little. His shoulders tensed the muscles along his upper arms jumped and twitched as he raised his hands to protect his face. Despite the tension along his body, his eyes that peered from between loose fists were calm, and patient.
Slowly Shuuhei began to circle clockwise, small side steps to a dance he knew by heart, sizing his opponent up. He was taller, which could be an advantage, he had the longer reach, but he had a feeling Ayasegawa was fast. A shift of his shoulders and he starts circling counter-clockwise, his eyes locked on the torso of his roommate, waiting for a telltale twitch.
A decision to not draw this out any longer had Shuuhei, stepping forward instead of the side, his right fist striking forward, but at the last second it pulled back and his left fist swung around the side straight at Yumi’s face.
Letting poise and reflex take over, Yumichika did his best to follow Shuuhei's attack. It wasn't easy; the scarred man handled his weight well. So well, in fact, that Yumi almost failed to react in time. As it was, he just barely caught the shift in his opponent's energy, and leaned sideways in an attempt to avoid what would have been an incapacitating punch. But it wasn't enough. Shuuhei's fist connected with the edge of his jaw, sending a surge of razor-sharp pain through the bottom portion of his face.
"Shit." Retreating backwards, out of Shuuhei's range, Yumichika paused and brought a hand up to his jaw. He could feel a bruise beginning to form, and blood was already flowing from where he had bit his lip. Spitting flecks of red onto the ground, he re-entered his stance and flashed his blood-stained teeth.
"Nice moves, Hisagi." His smile faded as he took a step forward. He had been hit, and he was bleeding, but the fight was far from over. Regardless of what the guffawing cubes behind him were saying, Yumichika was not going to give up. Seeing and experiencing Shuuhei's punch had given him a bit more insight into the man's style. It would only get better from here on out.
He was the one to attack this time.
With an almost effortless smoothness, Yumichika closed the distance between himself and his opponent in four hasty steps, carefully avoiding the other man's fists. His violet eyes glinted as he came in close; too close for Shuuhei to get any real momentum behind his punches. Finally in a place he felt comfortable, he reacted quickly, placing one of his own feet between Shuuhei's and his forearm across Shuuhei's chest.
The feel of willing flesh giving under his knuckles exhilarated Shuuhei and took him back to times he usually wanted to forget. When Yumichika spoke, he almost lost the sound of the words in the roaring of his ears, his adrenaline taking over, but he managed to return the bloody smile. This fight was not like any of the fights in the orphanage, he wasn’t fighting for survival. He had never known it could feel this good fighting someone to apparently enjoyed it as much as he did, and that mutual enjoyment went straight to his head, and gave him a high he had never imagined could be so easy to find.
A high to make him completely miss Yumi when he glided close and wrapped around him. ‘Get out of your own head Hisagi! Pay attention!’ Shuuhei glanced down into those violet eyes just waiting for him to make a move, his advantage taken from him in four or five steps. “You got some good moves too, Ayasegawa.”
He needed his petite roommate further back, had to regain his leverage, but any move he made would be quickly detected and counteracted long before the brunet saw it through. Best to just act quickly, and not think too much.
Long fingers fisted his roommates shirt, taking small pleasure in wrinkling his pristine clothes, and with all his power he shoved backward, stepping back to get maximize the distance between them.
Years of training and practice had turned Yumichika into a well-oiled machine. He was agile and graceful, moving with a speed and finesse that appeared almost effortless. Extremely adept at reading subtle hints in body language, he had a knack for anticipating his opponent's moves--and altering his own in response. And so, when he felt Shuuhei's hand come to rest on his chest, he knew exactly what to do.
Bracing himself against the push, Yumichika kept his knees loose and his body relaxed, so that he wouldn't lose his center of gravity. Then, shifting his weight, he brought his left hand down the inside of his opponent's extended arm, breaking the tension in Shuuhei's elbow and throwing him off balance. Grabbing hold of the other man's wrist, he pinned it to his own chest and turned sharply, using the hold on Shuuhei's arm to wrench the larger man around with him.
A low hiss pushed through Shuuhei’s lips of its own violation. He would never have voluntarily reacted. He knew later his whole arm would ache but for now the adrenaline was doing its job and he felt no pain.
After the initial reaction and twist which forced the tattooed man into a semi-bow, he allowed his body to relax and follow the turn of Yumichika’s. He even stepped into the turn, with his right foot, easing the angle of his arm. When his right foot came down from the small step forward, Shuuhei anchored it deep into the mat and slammed his left leg up, his knee connecting with his roommate’s stomach.
Instinct told Yumichika to retreat, to fall back and move away from the danger. Gritting his teeth, he fought against it, struggling to keep his body from doing what it wanted. He felt his opponent's weight shift, and knew that he needed to be quick. Using the pain in his gut to sharpen his senses, he altered his stance and counteracted with an almost unseen speed. Pivoting his weight, he reached forward with his right arm, bringing his palm to Shuuhei's knee. Ignoring the way his body screamed in protest, the lithe brunet pushed with all his might, using the ending force of his opponent's kick to send him backwards.
Damn he is fast! True it wasn’t eloquent but it was the first thing that ran through Shuuhei Hisagi’s mind as his opponent shoved him backward with a well placed hand on his upturned knee. He stumbled backward, arms wind milling, feet taking dozens of tiny steps in an effort to keep his balance. A part of him knew that if he went down this fight would be over and he wasn’t ready for that.
Yumichika knew that he didn't have long to act. His opponent was currently off balance, but that wouldn't last for very long. Sensing a window of opportunity, he quickly gathered his momentum and sped after Shuuhei. He knew better than to let such an opening slip by; even the smallest well-placed move could turn the tides in a fight. Stepping slightly to the side, he raised his arm and bent it, jabbing the point of his elbow down into the middle of his opponent's stomach.
All the air was forced out of the taller man with one well-placed elbow with a deep grunt; the impact knocked his equilibrium completely off balance and fell with another grunt.
It seemed to Shuuhei that he sat on the mat for hours his narrowed gaze studying his opponent but really he was only there for a second or two. He had just let someone less then half his size knock him down. The jeers of his classmates penetrated the bubble that had formed about them as they fought and Shuuhei was reminded of the setting. This was a training exercise and it was already obvious that while he had strength, reach, and power on his side. Yumichika had grace, speed, and knowledge on his. After this was over Shuuhei was going to have to ask his roommate so show him some moves. But for now, he had to get up.
He was on his feet almost as soon as he hit the ground, using his momentum to slam a fist into the brunt’s stomach, hitting him in the exact same place he had just been elbowed.
The ability to get up after a fall is an incredibly important one, whether it be in life or in a fight. If Shuuhei had hesitated a moment longer, Yumichika could have brought their sparring session to an end with minimal effort. As it was, however, the smaller man barely had time to complete the move before his opponent had recovered from it. His violet eyes widened fractionally, a swell of admiration surfacing on his features as he watched the scarred man leap back into the action. Although he lacked a certain amount of grace, Shuuhei was definitely not to be taken lightly. And neither was his fist, which was now soaring towards Yumi's body with a velocity sure to break bones.
Taking quick note of his opponent's speed and range, Yumichika countered by taking a step back, dodging the punch by a matter of millimeters. Quickly, in a flurry of arms and hands, he took hold of Shuuhei's outstretched arm, one of his hands at his attacker's wrist and the other at his elbow. Using the awkward leverage, he twisted his colleague's arm inward, so as to force his opponent into a kneeling position. If done correctly, he could have dislocated Shuuhei's shoulder, but it happened at such a high speed that his grip wasn't nearly as tight as he would have liked it to be.
One second Shuuhei was aiming to land a solid punch, the next he was on one knee in front of Yumi with his arm twisted at an odd angle again. This was becoming more and more frustrating. Every move he made was counteracted, he longed for the feel of that willing flesh under his hand again. As shocking as it may have been to people looking at the scarred man, he wasn’t the best at avoiding or preventing his attackers, he was good at taking the damage and fighting past it, so his roommates continued counters were starting to really grate on his nerves.
From his forced kneeling position he took out his frustration with his weaker left hand, aiming a direct blow to his opponent’s side, the closeness of their bodies making up for the less POW this blow carried.
The hold that Yumichika had on Shuuhei's wrist gave him a special insight into the larger man's movement. He could feel the tension in his opponent's muscles, sense when they coiled and relaxed, and make a guess as to what was coming next. However, since their proximity was so close, he didn't have time to dodge the impending punch. Instead, he tried to roll with it, attempting to absorb the force of the blow. He succeeded in lessening the impact, but the fact remained that Shuuhei was like a spring-loaded canon. It still hurt like hell.
Letting out a hiss between clenched teeth, Yumi slouched to the side, his body trying to compensate for the new pain. Knowing that this could leave him vulnerable, he dropped Shuuhei's wrist in an attempt to defend himself, bringing his hands up to guard his face. As he moved, an idea suddenly struck him, and he acted on it without a second thought. He dropped his shoulder and deepened his sideways lean, using the weight of his body to keep him balanced. Then, with as much force as he could muster, he pulled up his knee and sent it flying towards Shuuhei's face.
The moment his fist landed and Yumichika dropped his wrist Shuuhei knew he was probably in trouble. Surely the blow had not hurt his roommate enough to have him drop the wrist, a tuning fork into the tensions of his body. It was with a slightly distracted glance to the beautiful face above him that Shuuhei was completely unaware of the knee slamming into his cheekbone until it had connected with full force. And damn didn’t Yumi have pointy knees! The blow rocked the brunet’s head to the side, a bruise already spreading across his cheek and around his watering eye, when he straightened.
He knew that even though a blow had been landed, his hands were free and now was his chance to get back to his feet, so despite the blossoming electric pain on his face he stood in one fluid movement, his fist aimed up and under pretty-boy’s chin.
In that moment, Yumichika perceived what he believed to be a weakness in his opponent's approach. Well, perhaps it wasn't actually a weakness, but it was definitely something he could use to his advantage. The way that Shuuhei hadn't dodged the kick--hadn't even seen it coming--suggested that he wasn't paying attention to Yumi's feet. It made sense. All of Shuuhei's moves, save one, had been punches. He certainly seemed to favor his fists, and, in an ordinary fight, he probably could have gotten away with it. There was enough brute force behind his punches to take down a raging bull. However, Yumichika was far from an average opponent. His advantage wasn't in his strength, but in his technique. He used his mind more than his fists, relying on his quick thinking and reflexes to give him an edge. It was that quick thinking that made him attempt another kick.
He straightened and leaned backwards to evade Shuuhei's punch. The larger man's fist came so close to his face that he could feel the air it displaced rush against his lips. Jumping back, he turned on his heel and sank his weight into his right leg. Swiveling slightly, he threw his torso sideways so fast that he would have fallen over had his balance been anything less than perfect. His left leg came up in a flash, his thigh level and his lower leg swinging through like the end of a whip. At the last minute, he threw his weight into it, coming up on his right toe and lurching his hip. He hit the front of Shuuhei's shoulder with a flexed foot, the brunt of his force riding down his leg, through his heel, and into his opponent's body.
The momentum he had aimed at Yumi threw him right into that kick, his shoulder all the way down his arm went numb, then tingly, his pretty boy had obvious hit a nerve. This whole tussle was getting on his nerves at this point. Shuuhei was a good fighter; he had always won the scuffles at the orphanage. He had natural talent damn it. And now his own roommate was making him look like a fool, once again the fact he would have to ask for some pointers flashed through his mind, but first he had to finish this fight.
He ducked his shoulder shrugging off the others foot, his eyes narrowed in anger. A strange sound surrounded them, as he rushed the other fighter, grabbing handfuls of his shoulder and plowing him backward, the recruits scattering to get out of the way of Shuuhei as he shoved Yumichika’s back hard against the wall of the gym. His voice tore through him in a dull roar, that strange sound his own annoyance vocalized.
Yumichika’s eyes lit up at Shuuhei’s sudden outburst of anger. He would have laughed, but all of air had been forced clean out of his lungs. The back of his head was starting to throb from where it had smacked against the wall, and he could feel a bruise beginning to form on his shoulder blade. But, as much as it hurt, he couldn’t stop the grin that pulled across his face. Shuuhei’s irritation was not surprising, nor was it uncalled for-but that didn’t make it any less amusing. The sheer frustration in the larger man’s yell was exhilarating; Yumi could feel it tingle across his skin like electricity. Finally... some anger, some violence. He breathed it in, relishing the intoxicating rush that came with it.
This was what he had been relying on, his goal all along. An opponent like Shuuhei was a fearsome one; any one of those heavy punches could bring about incredible pain or worse. They were definitely unevenly matched in terms of brute strength, so Yumichika had been counting on his quickness to wear other man out. Shuuhei had been putting a lot of effort into each move-a lot of strength, momentum, and energy. And, after that impressive display of might, he had to be feeling at least a little bit winded. It was time for Yumichika to strike.
After catching his breath, he reached up and placed his open palms on his opponent’s chest. Raising his right leg, he brought his heel to the inner corner of Shuuhei’s opposite knee. Then, bracing himself against the wall, he pushed with both his hands and his foot-his hands forcing Shuuhei’s upper body away, while his heel caused the larger man’s knee to collapse.
That smirk on his face, pissed him off but also made the dull roar stop and a slightly embarrassed look crossed the scarred face. This was fun, he was making a fool of himself but God it felt good to fight with someone who enjoyed it, someone who he would still be friends with when this was all over.
He panted, his body shook as the adrenaline that had been surging through him started to fade from his system. This fight needed to end soon he was getting toward the end of his strength. He had learned the hard way to fight all out, until someone was done. The idea of conserving his energy was pointless. It defeated the purpose of a fight, in his mind, or had until he looked into those smiling eyes and realized he was the only fighter winded.
The thought hit him about the same time his knee crumbled, knocking him backward and to the side his on hand snapped out to catch him on the opposing wall. An intense throbbing radiated up from the joint. Yeah the adrenaline was almost out, he felt pain now in more than just a faint ache at the edges of his mind.
Shuuhei gritted his teeth and stepped into a right hook all his weight behind it.
There was no sign of exhaustion in the speed of Shuuhei’s recovery, no hint of fatigue in the aim of his fist. Yumichika knew that he needed to end the fight soon, before one of those killer punches managed to find its way to his pretty face. He wasn’t sure what course of action to take. There were plenty of options, but he wanted a move with a bit of flair-something that was as beautiful as it was efficient. What was the point in winning if he didn’t win in style?
He paused for the briefest of seconds, holding his ground as he waited for the other fighter to come closer. Then, as Shuuhei’s fist began to swing around toward his face, Yumichika crouched down and drew back his left hand. He hit his opponent in the ribs, putting just enough weight behind the punch to make it hurt. Once the blow had forced Shuuhei to bend slightly, Yumichika grabbed hold of the larger man’s forearm and drew it up over his head. Throwing the left over momentum from Shuuhei’s punch and most of his own strength into the attack, Yumi tightened his grip and pulled his roommate’s arm down toward the ground. The move flipped Shuuhei off his feet and sent him sprawling onto the mat. A loud noise, somewhere between a smack and a thud, resonated throughout the gym.
Then, just to make sure that his roommate wouldn’t get any bright ideas, Yumichika took a step forward and twisted Shuuhei’s arm at an odd angle-ensuring that the larger man wouldn't be able to get up without dislocating his elbow.
Shuuhei blinked blankly at the ceiling he was suddenly staring at. The force of his body slamming into the mat started to trickle through his skin as an odd cold tingly burning feeling. ”What just happened?” He thought, but his mind couldn’t come up with an answer. He took his free hand and patted the back of Yumi’s leg signaling he could let go Shuuhei wasn’t going to do anything now. It was all he could do to breathe.
He hurt all over, and as the cold tingle turned into something much meaner with teeth gnawing on him with merciless intent, he longed for that initial chill. He also longed to know what happened and how he could do it.
He could hear the shocked silence of the room erupt into a roar as everyone realized he had just been beaten, and beaten badly, by Yumichika Ayasegawa. People were bitching and whining, money was changing hands, people were calling him all kinds of names, but he couldn’t care less. He felt…odd…as if something had shaken loose in his head when he was reintroduced to the earth. He wasn't embarrassed; he didn’t rush to get up. He let his roommate have his due pride at a stunning victory, while he laid there in defeat and tried to sort out his mind while under the influence of this sudden clarity.
Of all the highs in the world, be they natural or drug-induced, the thrill of victory was by far the best. Nothing could compare to the sudden rush of euphoria, the burst of energy, or the feeling of accomplishment. And, although he had only won a simple sparring match, Yumichika couldn’t help but bask in it. He took a moment to indulge himself, savoring the leftover adrenaline that was coursing through his veins. It was a brief moment, but a satisfying one.
However, it wasn’t long before the commotion behind him had grown loud enough to catch his attention. Glancing around, he began searching the room for a certain freckled face. He had to laugh when his gaze fell on Bill Allen’s retreating figure. The poor lump was trying to sneak away unseen, as if he actually expected to run off with his pockets full. Honestly... didn’t any of these cubes have brains?
“Hey, Bill,” Yumi called out, a devious grin lighting up his face. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Bill stiffened, his beady eyes narrowing as he muttered something under his breath.
“I’m afraid I can’t hear you,” Yumi said, smoothing out the front of his shirt as he walked toward the grumbling man. His eyes darkened as he held out his hand. “I believe you have something for me.”
After a few more mumbled words, Bill finally reached for his wallet. He begrudgingly handed over the owed amount, before storming away like a disgruntled teenager.
Silly, silly man.
Yumi turned and walked back to center of the room, pocketing the money as he went. A look of concern fell over his face as he crouched down next to Shuuhei’s shoulder. “Think you’re going to make it, or should I call for help?”
The delicate and bruising face of his roommate re-entered Shuuhei’s limited field of vision glowing with victory, and the supine recruit couldn’t help but grin. “No no need to call for help…just…what happened?” He started to stir, his weight shifting he forced himself into a sitting position, his lower back screamed at him but he ignored it. This new position put their faces oddly close Shuuhei winked and turned his torso to plant both hands at his other side and forced himself to his feet. His butt passed close by Yumi, but he figured that was what he got for not offering a helping hand himself.
“And most importantly,” He continued now standing, one hand pressed into his bruised cheekbone. “Can you teach me to do it?”
He let Shuuhei get up on his own; not because he was inconsiderate, but because it was important. It was part of the learning experience, a matter of pride. A man’s body could heal relatively quickly, but a damaged reputation took longer to repair. The room was still full of recruits who looked up to Shuuhei as a leader and a man. And so Yumichika withheld his hand, watching with interest as the scarred brunet stood. Interest... and a bit of amusement, as well.
His roommate’s question surprised him; impressed him, really. He grinned as he stood, stepping back to give Shuuhei some space. “Sure, I can teach you,” he replied. None of his defeated opponents had ever asked him for advice before; they had all stormed off, muttering complaints through bleeding lips. A bit of Shuuhei’s character had come out in that simple question-his will to improve, not to mention his acceptance of Yumichika. It did not go unappreciated.
“But first,” Yumi continued, his voice taking on a more teasing tone, “let’s get you some ice and a few drinks. Bill’s buying.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he lead the way to the door. Before he left the room, he threw one last glance around at the recruits behind him. Their expressions were no longer stunned or angry. In fact, they were almost... accepting. It seemed as if the fight had earned Yumichika a bit of their respect.
...which meant that he owed Shuuhei more than just a few drinks.