Post by Akira Hinosai on Jun 16, 2023 2:40:05 GMT -5
Today was the day. Akira had never been more sure of anything in his life. "AAAAAAAAHHHHGGGGG!" Akira screamed through gritted teeth, trying to work up the nerve. He took a swig from a bottle of sake, and winced in pain as he forced himself to swallow it. How did people drink this swill? It tasted like something they used to embalm corpses, not a drink people enjoyed willingly. As much as he wanted to throw the accursed bottle away, he still had need of it. He still had doubts swirling in his head. This is a terrible idea. Try as he might to work himself into a berserker state, he was still shackled by his inhibitions. Akira put the bottle in his robe and grabbed his zanpakuto.
When Akira emerged from one of squad 12's training rooms, night had fallen. That was a good sign. I am deadliest by moonlight. Akira walked into the night, in spite of himself. When it seemed too much, like his courage was finally failing him, he took another drink from the sake bottle, each one somehow less pleasant than the one that came before. The taste of it lingered on his tongue. I swear, I'd rather down a cup of acid after chewing on a razor blade than this... Alas, it was the only form of liquid courage he could easily get his hands on, and it would free him of his weakness the same as the finest fruity cocktail.
What if he's not even there? Akira asked himself. It was a fair question. Who knows where he could be? Akira would look like a total idiot if he came in guns a blazing for some dude who wasn't even home. No, no, no. That was quitter talk. Akira wasn't a quitter. If Benjiro wasn't ready for the ultimate rematch, Akira could pick a fight with any of those squad 10 meatheads. He would. Even if they put Akira right back in a hospital bed, it would be worth it. He had to push himself harder than he'd been doing. He had no choice. In another life, he had been gored, burned, disemboweled and every other manner of fatal injury under the sun.
If Akira had gotten his ass kicked like Luca did, he might have some power. But no. Here he was playing it safe and deluding himself while dark forces mounted against him. Combine that with the time he spent comatose after meeting his inner hollow, and now he was definitely behind all his friends too. "FUCK!" Akira screamed in the middle of the poorly lit seireitei road. He took another drink. This time, however, he got too cocky, and drank too much. He could feel the sake almost come out of his nose as he spat it out and dropped the bottle. He fell to his knees, heaving up the sake he'd worked so hard to swallow. Akira stumbled to his feet with some effort, and tried to wipe his face. Spittle and tears had thoroughly messed up his makeup, as mascara and lipstick bled into his hands.
In a fit of rage, he kicked the bottle sending it flying back, hitting the road a little further down with a plunk sound. It had spilled its contents along the way, pooling around the site of impact. Akira walked past it to where he knew the squad 10 barracks to be. He would keep walking until he reached what he presumed to be a common area, where Benjiro would statistically be most likely to be found. Before coming, Akira had plans about bringing the whole place to a standstill, yelling and refusing to leave until Benjiro agreed to a rematch. Though when he stumbled through the door, his courage failed him. All those people with their friends, acting like everything was ok. It made him sick, but also filled him with fear. Fear of being laughed at, like he was still in highschool.
Instead of going in guns blazing, Akira decided for a more stealthy approach. After all, Benjiro was the kind of person to stand out of a crowd. Akira hugged the walls as he scanned the room, trying to find the giant monk. Assuming he was there, and made no efforts to avoid detection, Akira would approach him, attempting to remain unseen until the last possible second. If he was able to get in close, he would reach up to tap Benjiro's shoulder from behind. "Hey." Akira rhasped. It was a far cry from the badass challenge he had envisioned, but by this point he was just winging it. "We have some unfinished business, you and me. We're having a rematch. Right here, right now." Akira stopped himself. He wasn't drunk enough to think a brawl in a crowded common area was at all a good idea. "Ok, I misspoke. Squad 10 training room, as long as it takes us to get there. Then we're fucking doing it. It's happening. Let's go." Akira tried to muster all the bravado he could. He didn't come all this way to take no for an answer.
If Akira had gotten his ass kicked like Luca did, he might have some power. But no. Here he was playing it safe and deluding himself while dark forces mounted against him. Combine that with the time he spent comatose after meeting his inner hollow, and now he was definitely behind all his friends too. "FUCK!" Akira screamed in the middle of the poorly lit seireitei road. He took another drink. This time, however, he got too cocky, and drank too much. He could feel the sake almost come out of his nose as he spat it out and dropped the bottle. He fell to his knees, heaving up the sake he'd worked so hard to swallow. Akira stumbled to his feet with some effort, and tried to wipe his face. Spittle and tears had thoroughly messed up his makeup, as mascara and lipstick bled into his hands.
In a fit of rage, he kicked the bottle sending it flying back, hitting the road a little further down with a plunk sound. It had spilled its contents along the way, pooling around the site of impact. Akira walked past it to where he knew the squad 10 barracks to be. He would keep walking until he reached what he presumed to be a common area, where Benjiro would statistically be most likely to be found. Before coming, Akira had plans about bringing the whole place to a standstill, yelling and refusing to leave until Benjiro agreed to a rematch. Though when he stumbled through the door, his courage failed him. All those people with their friends, acting like everything was ok. It made him sick, but also filled him with fear. Fear of being laughed at, like he was still in highschool.
Instead of going in guns blazing, Akira decided for a more stealthy approach. After all, Benjiro was the kind of person to stand out of a crowd. Akira hugged the walls as he scanned the room, trying to find the giant monk. Assuming he was there, and made no efforts to avoid detection, Akira would approach him, attempting to remain unseen until the last possible second. If he was able to get in close, he would reach up to tap Benjiro's shoulder from behind. "Hey." Akira rhasped. It was a far cry from the badass challenge he had envisioned, but by this point he was just winging it. "We have some unfinished business, you and me. We're having a rematch. Right here, right now." Akira stopped himself. He wasn't drunk enough to think a brawl in a crowded common area was at all a good idea. "Ok, I misspoke. Squad 10 training room, as long as it takes us to get there. Then we're fucking doing it. It's happening. Let's go." Akira tried to muster all the bravado he could. He didn't come all this way to take no for an answer.