They Are Made From Lightning

SEVEN (七)

七

seven

Tora

The scent of the night bloomed quietly, wet and thick and thunderous. Even from the back rooms of Wing's, Tora was able to feel the dampness of the air, the way the moisture in the air clung onto skin like leeches.

Thunder seemed to growl louder, closer today than it did others.

Tora sat in the waiting room, waiting for her turn along with some of the other competitors. She glanced out the window towards the winning's desk. She glanced out at the ring. And then she slid on her brass knuckles. They were both identical in size, shape – but she knew them too well. She knew all their intricacies, and she could tell them apart in her sleep. An odd sensation of calm fell over her.

When the announcer called her name, she rose from her seat. She could feel the gazes of the other competitors trail on her back as she made her way out into the fighting ring. The ring looked bright and saturated as always – lit by a spotlight so fervent and intense that it seemed to burn circles into her vision.

But the thrill of a fight – that was what she enjoyed.

She hung back along the ropes, and rested there after entering the ring. The crowd was there – but she allowed them to be unresolved, to hover along the back of her mind. She put in her mouth guard, and waited.

The announcer stepped on stage.

"Get excited, everyone! A mystery competitor has signed up for today's round of fights. They're up to challenge our reigning winner – the Human Lightning, Tora Hanazawa! Who would dare to come up and challenge the relentless winner of Wing's? Our golden girl, our poster child?"

Someone swung themselves into the boxing ring with a loud thud. A cloaked figure, with their face hidden. Resting on the opposite side of the boxing ring, there was seemingly no one, no team there to support them. Tora didn't often have a team to support her in the ring either (and when she did, the said team consisted of Angelica), but this was the first time someone new had shown up out of the blue with absolutely no assistance prepared.

"Welcome Rebound to our ring!"

The person tossed aside their cloak – and there stood a beautiful girl, roughly the same height as Tora, probably around the same age. Although most of her face was hidden behind a mask, long hair fell down against her shoulders in braids and she smiled at the cheering crowd.

Tora was usually the unusual sight in Wing's, but having her here made the situation far stranger. It was a weird reverberation of the bizarre.

And yet, she said nothing.

The moment the bell rang, signalling the start of the tournament.

The girl – Rebound, as they called her – was already in the proximity. Both her hands were up. With a swift kick, she hurled her shin towards Tora's face.

Taken aback by her, Tora barely had enough time to dodge. Most of the other opponents ran at you like a bull, intending to ram you to the ground. She didn't like it – the girl had created an obstacle to constrict her thinking. And she knew that in fights, you could win by brute strength. But you mostly won with your mind over the matter.

It seemed logical – just switch it off. She raised both hands to cover her face.

The homely, familiar sensation of her muscles cackling with energy woke up in her once again. It was a warm, burning feeling that crawled through veins and slinked through arteries. It was adrenaline – but more.