Uvo

I'm getting pretty tired at this point after Ant left I've just kept on going. He seems like a good guy, although, rather than him doing a kind deed I feel like it was more out of pity or maybe some sort of hope that I would alleviate his boredom.

When I saw the tall brown haired dude I thought he was going to kick me off the curb or something. Turns out he's quite the bro.

I was still hammering away at the bag when the old Asian lady from before approached me. Of course, I had noticed her gaze fixated on me. I was not punching blindly anymore. I was trying to copy the tracksuit guy.

There are no techniques in brawling and I've always relied on my strong punch and calculative timing to get by. It's worked so far.

When I fight everything slows down a little for me. I see the best opportunity to strike, or, if none presents itself, the best way to avoid.

Admittedly I am only fighting other brawlers and they're not exactly highly disciplined fighters.

I figured out quickly that I was not going to learn anything from tracksuit dude. He moved too quickly and it was difficult to grasp what he was doing and why he was doing it.

The old lady approached me and, using her walking stick, hit my left shin.

I took the hint with little resistance and moved my left foot back. Looking to her for acceptance I was confronted with a raised eyebrow and a shaking head.

I stood up straight, she looked at me in eyes for a few seconds. It felt like she was pouring my soul onto a scale and measuring it against her standards.

I must have passed because she took a deep breath in and took a stance. Her left leg was back and nearly straight with her foot pointing away from her. Her right leg was slightly bent and her foot pointed forward. Her arms were up, her left arm up near her left eye guarding her face and her right was slightly straighter pointing forward, both hands were balled into a loose fist.

I observed for a minute at the spectacle I had just witnessed. Her fluid movements unceasing and controlled. She looked like a snake ready to strike.

So she did, a quick jab with the right hand. She must have come to the correct conclusion that I was left handed.

I notice that she moved forward very slightly with the punch and she clenched her fist midway through the movement. She then drew the punch back as quickly as she had thrown it out.

I looked at her with undisguised awe.

Despite being able to see what was happening, my body never would have been able to dodge that in time.

She nodded, satisfied with her performance she turned her back to me and returned to her seat.

What an eccentric woman.

I nodded my head, displaying my resilience and willingness to learn. At least, I hope so.

I did my best at attempting to recreate her positioning and let out my first punch. It was, mechanically very different, it felt like I lost a bit of power but that was no doubt due to it being a new technique.

Another hour passed since Ant left and I learned the punch. My arm was sore and my fist was swollen.

The bag was in a way better shape than I was, just slightly disfigured where I had been pounding it with all my might. I released my hands from their bandage prison and looked at my bruised knuckles. This is far from the worst I've seen them but it's the first time I have felt accomplished after throwing a punch… Or many punches.

The woman had been switching her attention between me and the tracksuit guy. I noticed he sometimes watched me warily as well.

With hesitation, I showered, washed my clothes and dried them, which, thanks to the available facilities only took around 10 minutes. This must have been the first time my clothes and I had had a proper wash in months.

I walked out looking and feeling like a new man. Showers will never be replaced by modern technology for purely this reason.

Construction of trust was necessary so I felt like I should talk a little more, I usually avoided it but I wasn't one of those annoying people that stay silent just for the sake of keeping character or whatever.

“Thank you for your instruction Ma'am.”

She looked up at me and nodded.

“You fought before?”

She finally spoke! She had a gravelly voice, it was quite relaxing.

“I wouldn't call it fighting. More like brawling.”

She nodded her head, I had no doubt in my mind that she expected this answer.

“Take this, read it, if you're interested, let me know tomorrow.”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

I took the paper that she had in her outstretched hand and for some reason gave her a quick bow before heading out of the building - I have no idea why.

I breathed in the slightly polluted and dusty air outside. I finally made it, albeit off someone else's back.

Even if I said to Ant I wouldn't repay him, I owe him a lot. Even if his intentions were not completely pure.

I'm almost certain he has no idea what secrets this place holds. Mind you, neither do I. I just know of its reputation.

Years ago that is, thousands of years ago, so long that the once legendary gym for training the highest class of fighter has been lowered to a dusty warehouse with one member who looks like they were dragged off the street.

I opened the leaflet in my hand.

FIGHT NIGHT!

TAIJITU

VS

ANDRAKHAN

Sunday 9 March 5913

I felt a shiver run down my spine. Why had she given me this? She wants me to fight for Taijitu? The legendary duo team has stooped so low that they pick up random beggars. It was so sad I laughed a little out loud.

From the looks of it, they didn't even have a second guy for the duo team. That might have been what that big headed dude from before was here for.

I folded the paper back up to put it in my pocket along with my hands and set off down the road to where I lived.

Actually, maybe lived is a little too frivolous. It's more like where I survive. Every day it's been the same since I left the orphanage. I stay with some other squatters in a battered old mansion where none of the plumbing works and most of the rooms are damp and infested with insects.

I earn a little money from fighting, people pay me to beat people up or they pay me to fight for entertainment. It's quite a big scene and I would do almost anything for money. Of course, it helps that I am quite good at fighting.

The little money I do earn is spent on food and the rest was saved so that I could finally buy a membership to the gym. I guess I don't need that anymore.

My eyes flitted over to my door which was even worse than the run-down gym I had just come from.

No one owns this entire block anymore, let alone this building. My neighbour, if you will, is some middle aged drunkard. There is a distinct smell of something cooking, let's just say it’s not chicken.

I open my door to find a middle aged woman lying on my bed smoking a cigarette.

“Hey Uvo, honey.”

I summoned a slight smile from wherever it usually hid.

“‘Sup Tracy.”

“Gone awful long today?”

“Yeah, I guess. Something happened.”

She sat up and raised an eyebrow. I walked over and lay next to her. She was the closest thing to a friend I had. She technically lived on the floor above but ever since I arrived, I became her little brother and she stayed with me.

She caressed my lips with a finger.

Okay, maybe little brother is wrong. Although, we’ve never done anything sexual. I’m pretty sure she is a sex worker so she probably wants a break from all that stuff when at home.

“What’s on your mind?”

I told her what happened with Ant and the upcoming fight.

“Ain’t that great news? I bet there’s good cash in it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure there is.”

“So, what’s holding you back?”

“Well, I feel bad for Ant, you know, I owe him something.”

“Ya’ know how stupid that is right. This is this, that is that.”

“Yeah, I do know that, ‘course.”

“Well then, I think you’ve found your answer.”

“I guess, thanks, Trace.”

I usually call her Trace, I always try and shorten people’s names so that I can speak as little as possible.

I turned away from her.

“Blow that smoke some other way Trace.”

“Sorry Honey.” She smirked and blew it in a different direction. I think she’s around 100 something, still young but older than me.

She had short brown hair and tattoos all over her body. Not covered in them, just in all sorts of places.

“You get any food?”

“Yeah, I got some stuff, here.”

She handed me a packet of gel. This was our regular meal, it was the cheapest and provided all the daily nutritional requirements. Well, it was pretty much made for homeless people so it screamed efficiency; which is a nice way of saying it was disgusting.

Not that I am complaining.

She finally put out her cigarette to the side on the bare floor and lay down next to me.

“You doing anything tonight?”

I didn’t have to think about it but I stayed silent for a bit anyway before answering.

“Nah, got nothing, why?”

“I see, I got a couple of things to take care of tonight so I’ll see ya’ tomorrow, ‘kay hot stuff?”

“Sure, have a good one Trace.”

“Love ya!”

I sighed and rolled onto my back after she left the room, closing the door behind her. Despite being squatters we are still humans so we have some semblance of etiquette. Well, it’s more like we know that none of us have anything worth stealing.

Such is the life, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. I had nothing to wake up for tomorrow morning so a blissful lie in awaited.