Fighting For Victory

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟙 - 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕍𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕀𝕥

31 January

I stood at the edge of the boxing ring. Clenching my fists, making sure the gauze wrapped around my hands and wrists was secure, adjusting my sports bra, stretching my legs, sucking my mouth guard against my teeth.

Hundreds of people were watching.

It was surreal, the feeling of being in front of so many people. The flashing lights of phones, taking pictures and videos that they would later upload for many more to see, still managed to annoy me even with my eyes closed. But after being here for a year, I had conditioned myself to the feeling.

Hundreds of people cheering.

I guess I could sort of see how so many people would want to see what becomes of the just-turned fifteen year-old. Who appeared out of nowhere last year with the bare minimum experience required, and somehow managed to claw her way to the final round of this fighting competition. Who, despite taking devastating hits from ferocious opponents, is standing unharmed and ready to fight again. Some people love the idea of an underdog.

Hundreds of people jeering.

But then again, some stick to what they know. I opened my eyes to see the guy I would have to break. He was taller than me, only by a bit. I wasn't much heavier either, we were in around the same area of our weight class. His back was turned to me but I had already seen his defined muscles from previous matches I had witnessed. They weren't just for show. Over the past couple of weeks I had seen this guy beat people to the brink of death, it's been going on for years before I came to this competition. People love it. They love being able to help him win. 

How was it fair that when people cheered, even for his opponent, he absorbed the sound energy and used it to amplify his strength. I watched as he screamed at the crowd who screamed back, generating energy for him. He only ceased the noise and turned his buzzed head once the ref called out attention.

"Y'all know the rules but I'm gonna have to tell ya anyway. Ya fight till one of yous get K.O-ed, taps out or if I think someone's too injured or 'bout to die," Paul counted on his fingers. "If I tell ya to stop, you better fucken' listen or one of ya gets to kiss my fist."

The crowd broke out howling in excitement like always after Paul's short explanation.

"I hope you're ready for this fucken' fantastical final fight for 95,000 yen!" he turned to face one of the other sections of crowd past the ropes of the boxing ring. "Those who still haven't placed a bet, don't worry, you've still got time!" He pointed to the end of the large room where we all were cramped into a  booth near the door. "You can still place your bets. Who do ya think's going to win? The four-time champion, cheer evoking, crowd favourite: Amp! Or do ya wanna wager on the underdog, took the competition by storm, the take it on the chin, Y/n!"

(About £500. $650 US. $975 Australian. €590.)

The crowd was throwing themselves around, making as much noise as they could for each of us. I was a bit annoyed because they were feeding him strength and I could see his smile widening from that fact. 

"Three!"

For the first time since we stepped inside this ring we made eye contact. His grey eyes glowed slightly silver from the intensity of the sound around us.

"Don't expect me to go easy on you. I don't care if you're a weak little kid, I'm goin' for five!" declared Amp.

"Two!"

"Sorry to burst your bubble but not goin' to happen! I hope you're ready to say hi to your friend that I put in hospital last week!" I smirked.

"One!"