Imura wasn't sure how to reply to that. That was too sudden, he's being invited to spar with someone he just properly met for the first time…
"…Sorry but- no thanks…"
"C'mon man, it'll be fun! You don't need to stop sparring once you leave the gym,"
Imura took a moment to respond. His hesitation was far clearer on his face now. "…No, I'll pass on that. Thanks…" he finally said. Forcing a grin while extending a hand in front of him.
Tachibana's body softened, "Man, really? No boxer I've met so far turned down my offer like that." He chuckled awkwardly, "Well, then, I guess I'll...See ya around."
"Yeah…" Imura replied. Turning back now then walking out the entranceway to the garden.
It's what he disliked so much. Fighting.
Ever since Imura was young, the idea of sport only caved into his mind in the form of either soccer, baseball, or running around with friends and family or other strangers 'til the finish line. That's what he always thought of sports. Violence, has never crossed his mind that way. And it never always made sense to him.
What didn't?
To fight with gloves or bandages, to throw kicks and elbows- fists and knees at your opponent with a sincere intention to overwhelm him enough into giving up. That was never what he thought was a sport by definition, a sport by idea. How do you turn fists into that? How do you turn something- conditioned into sub-weapons of battle and defense into a sport? How do you do that?
What makes giving injuries and trauma a good sport… at all?
What's so good about fighting?
What…makes it so thrilling that way?
When he thought about violence in his life, he thought about something that only slowed him down on his steps.
What formed an imaginary shadow around him.
'You little brat…' What he could make out of his memories were this dark, no-nonsense voice coming from his father's throat.
'STOP!' was the only thing he could think of telling a dangerous him. He was so young back then.
'Stay outta the way, Imura. Stay. Out. Of my way.' How unlikely it was for him to say that. To say it like that even.
'STOP DOING THAT TO HER!'
'So, you're not gonna do as I say? Fine.'
'You can take some, too.' The cold, steel pole was rising above for an attack. His mother could only scream,
'IMURA-!'
Atleast as far as he knows, he's never told anyone of that before.
"Excuse me!"
A younger sounding voice, just a slight bit younger than what he sounds broke him out of the darkness he self-trapped. He turned to his left and saw that same guy from before- the one who he simply talked out. He had a coy smile on him now, a grateful smile. He approached Imura gladly and fearlessly- as if something had changed within him moments after this small incident.
"Keisuke Okada, first year…" he shook hands with him. "Thanks for helping out…"
Imura shook his free hand dismissively with a coy smile, saying, "Yeah, no problem. You doing okay?"
"Oh- for sure." Keisuke nodded. He seemed to struggle maintaining eye contact with the man infront of him, "And you're…Senior Imura, right?"
"Right."
"Thanks for helping out again, Senior. I'm so glad to meet you."
"Glad to meet you too…"
Keisuke paused, he shook his head repeatedly. Now there was something in his eyes. Something maybe, intrigue? Regardless of that, he finally said, "Say, are you in Keichi's gym a couple blocks away by any chance?"
Imura hesitated. He was just asked about it once…Is he going to ask the same? Imura told him then that he does, but it seemed as though that curiosity flicked away right after from the man's face. Like he wasn't interested even if he was. "Why?" Imura asks him after. Okada waved a hand, "Oh- it's nothing. Was just curious, you know? Say- uhhhh…" he paused. "You going home right now?"
Imura replied simply, "Sure am."
"Alright, cool, cool. Say Senior, you wanna walk the way home as we talk? I-it just gets boring and stuff, you know?"
"Uhhh, sure."
"Alright! Let's go then!"
He was an awkward fellow for the most part. Noticably shy and scared to talk. He was a boy roughly smaller than him, but he had a decent build for some who seems as unintimidating as him. For someone that always seemed to carry an unassuming appearance.
"Can I ask you how long you've been boxing for, Senior?" Okada asked.
"Sure, go on ahead." Imura welcomed with that joke. Okada laughed a bit. "How long?"
"Uhhh…five whole months now? I've been doing somethin' else before that. But I've been boxing for a year."
"I see…" Okada said, his tone disappointing. "Well, I-"
"Well, what've you been doing, Okada?" Imura interrupted him unintendedly. He whispered a small sorry as they walked. Okada didn't mind and continued, "Well, I was gonna tell you that. I'm in the karate club in college…I'm a green belt so far."
The karate club. Many people go there. Nowadays, karate's a far more trending art than it was back then. Or atleast, that's what it seems. He's never tried karate himself so Imura considered it, should he?
They spent the rest of their stroll vocubly like that then. It seemed as though Okada was getting more and more comfortable talking to him. Great for him, he seemed as though an awkward and scared fellow currently in college. But that anxious demeanour seem to fade away as each word was exchanged, and each time they could relate.
But the underlying anxiety still urked from yesterday's statement…
'Tomorrow's gonna be big.'
"…Is something bothering you, Senior?" Okada asked, he realized the weariness and hesitation Imura gave off. Imura simply waved it off with a smile that didn't reach his eyes, "no. It's- it's fine…Was just zoning off about something. That's all."
"Well, alright," Okada shrugged it off.
Once they passed the crosswalk, they stopped by in front of a giant apartment complex. It was nice yet an old fashioned kind. But it held the 'Nagasaki-feel' to it. Okada stood just near the front gate, looking behind himself saying, "Once again, thank you for the help, Senior."
"Hey, it's no problem…" Imura said, already tired of it but still ammused by his politeness. "How many times are you gonna tell me that?"
Okada giggled teasefully, "Just a habit of mine. My apologies,"
Imura moved a hand, "It's fine."
After a small exchange of formalities, Imura watched him go inside of his apartment. Alone once again, in the middle of the bustling streets. And that was then he thought he felt…
Watched.
He couldn't see anyone around this crowd; a crowd of business men, women, children, teens and highschoolers, delivery persons and ect cetera. But the feeling of being watched still gnawed at him. Something was up, and he needed to keep his guard up no matter how normal things may seem.
Imura hated this day the most. The day he felt like he was being chased. But it's the path he chose.
He walked his way home, quietly and awaring with his posture. Waves of murmurs and sounds never went. The abundance of people never went. The cars never stopped yelling. He couldn't see anyone from Shirogane High, but if he knew them well, he knew that they would stalk. Any time and any day. He turned and took his usual path home- a skinny pathway leading to small markets and food stalls. He turned again and walked a few minutes on the streets again. Then he turned right where no cars went in, but people walked, and no stalls remained. Only a small alleyway.
But today was unusual. No person was here. It was all too quiet…
Until strangers revealed themselves from both left and right…
He fought for control over his heart.
He flicked back, and saw some approaching him from there too. He was trapped. And at that moment, he felt stupid, foolish, an idiot- he insulted himself in his mind, he thought 'I could've went somewhere else, why'd I do this?!'
Some hung wooden bats behind their necks, some gripping brass knuckles, and some unarmed. Many of them smiled, grinned, some remained stoic and inexpressive.
The crowds outside watched and caused a scene. Bikers stopped to witness what was going on, delivery persons too. Highschoolers did the same. Many of them thought the same: a confrontation between gangs. Which gangs, didn't matter. They didn't wear Shirogane High uniform today to know.
From some perspectives, they thought this was a conflict between two gangs. However, others theorized…
What if..They're after that boy all by themselves?
Whispers and debates of the law enforcement being called were being made. But a few others have shut them up, lying that it wasn't a big deal at all.
"Shirogane High, Shirogane hide," one's voice carried a symmetry. "Imura's here, so you must hide."
"Shirogane High, Shirogane hide! Imura's here, so a meeting must be nigh."
He was a man wearing a cap. The fangs of his teeth grown like an animal's, he grinned. A voice carried in a nonchalantly aggressive way. "Nice meetin' ya, Mr.Imura." he said once he was near him. Imura didn't respond. "Oh, don't worry! Me and these guys here?" he motioned to every single one of them with wide arms, "They'll be here to watch, you know? Some kinda stuff like that."
Watch…? Watch what?
The delinquent cleared his throat, anticipating what he would say next. He approached Imura again. Close, but not close enough for Imura to strike. His right arm extended toward the alleyway. He shook his head, his grin never left, and then he said calmly, "Please go in,"
Imura didn't oblige. Instead, he glared at him. "Go on, get in!" he pressured, adjusting his limbs. "Someone's waitin' for you in there, man."
Someone's waiting. And Imura didn't have a choice. Could he try and buy time? He certainly could, but there were atleast ten men here on each side. The rest were unknown. But he expected there to be a lot.
Imura didn't have a choice.
He had no choice.
He obliged. Slowly. The walls caved in behind him. The wall consisted of people, a wall that only demanded he continues further and so he did.
"Uh oh, he's here…" a play fright. The man in front of him acted startled, his body coiled up an inch, and his one leg afloat, "You're Shirogane's enemy, Imura Kashiwada, right?!"
He was a tall man. One that towered over him easily. A figure that looked like a bull in front of a cat. One that looked like he was ready to fight at any moment now. One that looked like he was too unstable to keep ahold.
But yet, Imura's eyes remain unfaltered.
"Kasuga Nikaido, friend," he extended a hand, one that looked like it was for a handshake. Imura was about to take it hesitantly, but yet-
Kasuga moved it away. "Awwww. You missed."
A small laughter rumbled around him, all toward Imura. It came like a shockwave to his dignity.
For all this time, Imura has been the hunter. But now…It was he who was hunted.
Like a prey fighting back to a predator.
But this made him feel something after just a couple days. Something along the feelings of anger? Resentment? Something along the lines of-
Despise?
"I heard you're tougher than you look." Kasuga said, his grin never left. "But I think you just took the wrong street, that's all."
The crowd laughed again. He motioned for them to shush. Then Kasuga continued, "You know who I was back in the day, miss?"
"No."
"A PE teacher," he chuckled, "Yeah, I used to teach these kids how to exercise 'til I joined them on whatever they're doin'. Now seriously!" he was raising his voice to the crowd now, mocking them this time, "You guys were all sooo pretentious before I came! And you called yourselves thugs!"
…It left a bad taste in most of their mouths. Some brushed it off as just a simple joke, some others just told the next person 'it's a joke', or 'relax'. But what Kasuga said was somewhat true for Shirogane High.
They were never fully embracing for the path to delinquency. Until Kasuga to the picture and taught them how to live that kind of life. And for that, some owed him. Some resented him. Some took nothing much of it.
But for those who resented him, what could they do? Because after all…
This guy was fourth-in-command of Shirogane crews. The guy that towered over Imura with folded arms, like he cared less about this situation.
He leaned closer and looked Imura straight into his eyes saying: "You're only getting out of here once you leave a proper fight, buddy."
Imura's gaze didn't falter much.
OHHHHHHHHHHH….
YEAH!!!!
NIKAIDO! NIKAIDO! NIKAIDO! NIKAIDO! The repeating yell was almost deafening coming from the crowd. But they had to calm down eventually, because the cops would've gotten lured if they had continued. But it was undeniable- The thrill was undeniable. The face off was undeniably thrilling, and so was imagining what'd happen next was thrilling.
The well known 'Shriogane enemy' up against the fourth-in-command of Shirogane crews. It was a sight to behold, a match to anticipate. A duel way too hard to miss.
Nikaido was taking a few steps back away from him. Hirose popped up from the crowd, and was telling something to him. What he was telling him, Imura couldn't understand. The crowd was way too loud to hear.
Hirose spoke, Kasuga nodded. Hirose spoke again, Kasuga nodded again. Then what seemed to be…He was telling Hirose to back off now, swiping him away. Imura's stance was still open. His face turned nervous it seemed now. But Kasuga was the complete opposite. He didn't have anyone telling him to do it. He didn't warm up at all…
He already took a stance. And it was orthodox.
The supposed referee of this match came to a quiet agreement. They stood between the two, asked Kasuga- and Kasuga only, "READY?!" Kasuga shook his head.
Referee held his breathe. He soared his right fist up in the sky. And before he could shout 'BEGIN!!!'-
Imura pushed him aside, tripping him onto the pavement. Imura moved fast- swift- and controlled, like a spring DECOMPRESSED from being gripped so tight.
"HE'S MOVING IN FAST!!!"
"HE'S WASTIN' NO TIME-!"
Kasuga saw as though a human being was dashing at him at high speeds before taking a CLEAN HOOK-
-to the face. His head snapped the other way around, his brain accelerated inside of his head, and he lost the balance he once had. But Imura stopped it there, and he was able to fall on the floor and process his situation safely. The crowd begged him to get up and fast.
Right, he just took a hook. A clean hook to the face. And it was a fast one too. He wasn't sure if that really hurt.
A few moments later he held himself back up. The tenacity of a tiger and the persistence of a bull still remained. And when he looked at his opponent, it was as if a switch had been flipped. His face carried a mad-grin, eyes so wide that pierced through Imura's pupils- down into his mind. He didn't
rush at him. He approached him in a way that seemed as thugh the man was taking a walk in the park. Imura wasn't one to back down that offer- and went straight towards him. A jab- missed his opponent's face by inches. Two punches to the chest and the side, but that only seemed to slow him down on his walk. A blow to the liver that shocked him little to none.
Nikaido's stance shifted and a SHARP JAB hit his right right cheek. Imura faltered back…
"OH, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT. HE'S GETTING BULLIED!"
"Y'PICKED THE WRONG GUYS TO FIGHT, FOOL!"
Something was off. All his punches didn't seem to even make him flinch…"C'mooon. You're boring me."
It was at that moment he knew he needed to push harder- Imura went straight for a flurry. The crowd was gasping, shouting, throwing fists on the air and dirt around the floor. But Imura gained tunnel vision. Most punches hit, some were parried, while others missed. Majority of them hit, but it barely seemed to affect the man. Nikaido gave him his response. He threw a punch to Imura's ribs. It hurt- but Imura didn't back down. He sent strikes back at him again and again, while Nikaido struck again and again, each one of them took fast turns. One struck one, the other struck the same one.
'IT'S A SLUGFEST!!!'
Imura's been in his fair share of them. He could handle this, but he wasn't sure if this was a good idea or not. Eitherway, he needed to end this fight.
JUST GO DOWN ALREADY! He shouted again and again in his mind. And each punch he threw was reminiscent of his wildly racing mind.
The punches everyone saw was the kind you'd see from kyoukushin karate. A slugfest between two kyoukushin karatekas going at it with eachother in point-blank range. Eventually, Imura had to end it. He had to concede. He needed to get out of this insanity- because it was already getting too much for him. He backed off, breathing raggedly. Kasuga just stood in front of him, as if waiting for his next attack, a next trick of a child.
…Does he not even get hurt at all…?!
Imura was feeling it. Self hatred and anger fill his mind all at once. That slugfest was a too bold of a move, and it only seemed to harm him, more than it harmed Nikaido.
Adrenaline RUSHED. He went back at it again. Instead of going for a tackle, or a straight, or any other punch, he threw a front kick. A teep. One that was only used for creating distance. Nikaido wobbled around for a few moments before throwing a front kick of his own, it grazed Imura on the back- but he didn't care. He swept his leg behind Nikaido's knees, causing him to fall over.
GOT. HIM.
Nikaido's expression faltered. Imura followed through. They fought on the floor, one tried to gain dominance over the other. The 'Ruthless fist' was getting toppled over by a simple wanted enemy of his gang. He had no choice but to guard- and through the cracks he saw Imura rushing blows down onto him, trying to hit his face.
Angry, expressive, and mad.
So THIS was why people liked it.
THIS was why these guys fought like their lives depended on it.
OH YEAH, THIS IS THRILLING.
You see this, punks? Your 'boss' is getting toppled down right now. What're you gonna do about it, huh? What're you gonna do about it?
WHAT'RE YOU PUNKS GONNA DO ONCE I LAND HIM IN THE HOSPITAL, HUH?!
"Bring me Wu Sha…RIGHT. NOW-----"
Nikaido pulled him off to the side. He rolled to the other. Imura got up and ran toward him. He threw a kick made for a soccerball that missed Nikaido by inches.
He chased after him again on pursuit. Nikaido had gotten up back on his feet then. Instead of his right straight landing fully onto Nikaido's face- his arm was snapped upwards by a rising forearm. And then what met him next-
Was a devastating front kick learnt easily from karate training.
"Aaannndd…Showtime's OVER!" Nikaido yelled out to the crowd. They all screamed, 'YEAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'
His hair was messy, his posture was bent. And though despite his ragged appearance, he looked completely sure of it.
"You are NOT getting away with ruining my show, Imura!" a voice almost child-like in its tone, yet carried the ferocity of a tiger and a cunning wolf combined.
Something changed within him.
Something changed. And it was bad. It was…tense. Imura could feel it. Like wind rushing at him at hot temperatures.
"Now- what did you tell me to do again?" Nikaido was approaching him with stomping footsteps. "Who'd you tell me to bring?"
"Bring you…Wu Sha, huh? Huh."
HE LUNGED- "SURE!"
"RIGHT HERE…" he attacked viciously. Animalously. Every punch felt like they held weight at the ends of each fist. "RIGHT IN FRONT OF YA!"
A vicious punch barrage. One that spoke volumes of Nikaido's power and ferocity. His speed outweighed the expectancy from his build, it was as if he were a middleweight- not a heavyweight.
Imura could barely see- he was too occupied. His hands were full just from guarding himself against those fists. Kasuga stopped suddenly- then again- he resumes his flurry. Imura tried and tried again to punch back—but it was too late. Too stressful, too pressurizing. Nikaido had him in that moment, a few clean punches landed on his face. Nikaido grabbed his collar and repeatedly punched his face like he were striking something less than human. And once Nikaido stopped-
He pivoted and took a full 360 degrees turn and kicked Imura away, making him fall.
The crowd roared.
The world was…disorientating…
'You. And this kid. You both can just walk outta here- before I change my mind.'
'Doesn't matter where you WALK or run, Emi. Go beg out on the streets for food and housing. For all I care.'
'You crazies can just get outta my life for all I care.'
What'd we do, dad?
I still forgive you.
No matter what, he needed to find 'Wu Sha'. No matter what, he needed to stop him. No matter what….
He couldn't back down then, and he couldn't back down now.
That…
Is all…worthless.
"YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!"
"NIKAIDOOOOOOOOOOOOOO WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINS!!!!!!"
But I guess for now, I'll just give up. For now.
Nikaido fixed his hair up. Taking deep breathes. For a moment, there wasn't anything meaningful in his eyes. There wasn't anything that he looked like he felt meaningfully.
He turned to Imura and told him this,
"Let me tell ya somethin' kid.
I don't feel pain."
It made sense then, and it made sense now. What Kasuga just said wasn't just the truth, but it was something that hurt.
Something that destroyed his own hopes of something.
This moment- it shattered peace.
It shattered happiness.
It shattered comfort.
It shattered the feeling of…
Home.