Worry

[Yuito's POV]

I was inside the locker room with a few other fighters in the same division as me.

There were some fighters wrapping their hand with their coaches, these people were getting ready to fight but most of us stood in front of the TV screen that was playing the current match.

My hands were already bandaged and I was barefootef. I also held my mouthguard in one of my hands.

I was ready to fight anytime now.

The current match I was watching from the screen would end soon and I would be the next to fight. My heart had crawled up to my throat and it stayed and beat loudly there.

I was more nervous than I thought I would be.

The match was incredibly boring as one might expect. It was because both fighters were being extremely careful of each other.

The reason for that is due to how the tournament was fought. We had to fight two times and win today, to be eligible for the finals.

That means that it would be absolutely disastrous if we got hurt. If you were to get the win in the first match, but you were injured to fight the second match after a few hours of rest, what's the point?

Or even if you could fight, an injury or exhaustion would cause a lot of disadvantages in the next fight.

So they were cautious to the extreme, punching quickly and retreating even quicker. They were absolutely fearful of being injured or being exhausted.

They just aim to score more points to win by the judge's decision. That was the safest decision you could make if you really wanted to win the tournament.

A real and exciting fight will only happen in the finals.

Or, if one of the fighters was Munseoung. He fought in the first match and knocked out his opponent in the first round.

It was crazy how strong and powerful he was. It made me more and more happy with the decision I made to get into the division.

Finally, the fight came to an end. I did not bother seeing which the judges score as the winner and went out of the locker room and into the arena.

There was a camera in front of me throughout the hallway. I walk extra dramatically and with a serious expression on my face.

The guard stopped me right before the entrance.

I waited for a few minutes and I heard the cheering of the audience with the announcer, calling out my name.

"The martial arts prodigy from Japan. The one who held the number 1 rank in Boxing, Karate, and every other combat sport you can name in the nation. At the young age of 16, he is officially the youngest fighter we have yet. I present to you, Yuito Fujita!!"

The guard waved at me to go and I did. I entered the arena and made my way to the octagon under the cheering of the audience.

The stadium was big and it was indoor. The audience almost fully occupied the stadium even though this was the boring part of the tournament.

I waved and did some shadowboxing on my way to the octagon. I felt really awkward doing so, but it was better than simply walking.

I need to get better at hyping myself up.

I soon reached the octagon and before going in, I took off the shirt that I was wearing and the cheers went wild and all the cameras pointed on me.

Then two doctors quickly checked my physical condition and the glove that I was wearing.

"Mouthguard?" the doctor asked and I showed him the mouthguard in my mouth.

"Do you take any medication before the fight?" I shook my head and I answered a few other questions before he checked my shorts and the groin guard that I was wearing.

I didn't know if it was just me but I think he was touching me way too much and for way too long.

'It's kinda gay.'

{You're a victim bro.}

I pushed away the doctor a bit forcefully and he seemed to realize I was not comfortable so he stopped.

Then he gave me a thumbs up and I walked into the octagon.

One thing came to my mind. The octagon was bigger than I thought and there was a certain pressure inside the cage.

I have had my fair share of challenging fights in the nationals where thousands of people were watching but the octagon held a certain atmosphere that made me want to lay down and give up.

I felt the soft yet firm floor of the cage and got myself accustomed with the environment.

The light above us lit up and the stadium became dark. Standing at the very center of the stadium, I was indeed at the center of attention.

I walked to one corner and began stretching while I watched my opponent enter the stadium. There were many big screens throughout the stadium and I watched from those.

My opponent was a big black man who looked like he eat dinosaurs for breakfast.

Black people could be found in any kind of physical sport due to their superior genetics. It was insane how many UFC champions who dominated other fighters were black.

Jon Jones, Kamaru Usman, Demetrious Johnson, DC, Aderson Silva, Ngannou, etc.

I had never fought foreigners much before so this would be an interesting matchup. I had always wanted to fight them, right after the Russians.

The name of my opponent was Malcolm Winfrey. A big 6'4 dude who barely made the weight like me but for the exact opposite reason. While I was too light he was too damn heavy.

When he reached the octagon, the same doctors checked him but for a much shorter time than me. I got the creeps when I realized that and the author laughed at me, telling me its the downside of being a pretty boy.

Then before my opponent got in, his coaches and trainers prayed and they hyped him up and gave him words of encouragement

They told him to not underestimate me or go easy on me. They said that he was born a champion and all that jazz.

Some might think that I must feel lonely or sad since I have no such supporters, but I was not. Because although I appeared to be alone from the outside, I was not.

{I don't think you will win. Look at the size of that guy, holy shit.}

..I have my own idiot.

I don't need anyone else. He was enough.

{Still don't think you will win.}

Soon, my opponent entered the octagon and unlike me, he did not shy away and showed dominance at the center.

He roared like a beast as he walked around.

He even tried to approach me but the referee stopped him before he reached me. Then the announcer hyped up the fight for one last time before we were called to the centre by the referee.

We stood face-to-face with each other for a staredown while the referee told us the rules. Yet it was only done formally.

I was more focused on my opponent.

Standing face to face, it dawned on me just how much bigger he was compared to me.

Anyone - even someone who never watched combat - could tell we do not belong to the same weight class.

He was 4 inches taller than me and almost twice as thick.

But I did not back down from the stare down. Instead, he was the one who backed down.

Under my glowing purple eyes that shone with excitement and pure battle lust, he looked away.

He hesitated.

A chink in the Armor, as a certain heavyweight champion said.

He already lost before the fight started.

The referee sent us back to our corner and after a few seconds, the bell rang.

The fight had just started.

Yet my opponent was charging at me like a bull already.

Remember how I said the fighters were cautious and playing it safe to avoid exhaustion and injuries?

There was another way to avoid injures and exhaustion other than being cautious. It was an approach even Munseoung used.

That is knock the fuck out of your opponent early on.

And it seemed like my opponent chose the latter approach.

Seeing him running towards me like a beast, I felt the hairs on my body standing up and a huge smile spread across my face.

I was worried.

.

.

But not for me!!!

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