The Hangover and the Blade

Renji felt as if he had been taken apart and put back together again, but with a few pieces left over. His skin, which days before had been impenetrable as steel, was now sensitive even to the touch of the cheap sheets.

On the fourth day, boredom defeated the pain.

Renji dragged himself out of the futon. The apartment was strangely clean. There was a stack of pizza boxes in the corner, but the trash had been taken out.

His cell phone vibrated. It was a voice message from Hiroshi.

"Hey, champion! Hope you're alive. Don't worry about the store. The manager didn't even notice you were gone."

Renji frowned and called back. "Hiroshi? What do you mean 'didn't even notice'? You said you were going to work double shifts. Are you killing yourself working?"

Hiroshi's laugh on the other end of the line was relaxed, accompanied by the characteristic sound of metal balls falling in a Pachinko machine.

"Me? Overworking? Renji, please. I'm an investor now." — The sound of electronic arcade music grew louder. — "Remember Uncle Yamashita? The one who runs the illegal takoyaki stand?"

"The old man who owes you poker money?"

"Exactly. He owed me a favor and interest. So, I made him an offer he couldn't refuse: he covers your night shifts for a week, and I forgive 10% of his debt. The manager thinks he's your 'cousin from the countryside.' The old guy is grumpy, but he mops the floor like no one else."

Renji leaned against the wall, incredulous. "You put a takoyaki loan shark to work at the convenience store so I could sleep?"

"That's called human resources management, Renji. I handle the logistics. You handle recovering that glass body of yours. We have thirty days until the main tournament. I need you ready to make me more money. Bye!"

The call dropped. Renji looked at the cell phone, shaking his head. Hiroshi was a creature of chaos, but he was useful.

Unable to stay cooped up any longer, Renji put on baggy sweatpants and a hoodie to hide the deep circles under his eyes. He couldn't train, but he could watch. The gym was the only place where the tournament anxiety subsided.

Kuma Gym was full. The sound of gloves hitting leather was comforting.

Renji sat on a bench in the back, in the shadows, just observing. He saw the rookies making basic mistakes. He saw the veterans repeating combinations. Before, he looked at them with envy. Now, he looked with analysis.

That one drops his guard when he kicks. That one telegraphs his straight punch.

His mind was still that of an elite fighter. Only his body was on strike.

"You look terrible."

Renji didn't need to look to know who it was. The intense citrus scent and the static electricity in the air gave her away.

Kaori Tanaka jumped over the bench and landed sitting next to him, with an energy that seemed to vibrate. She wore a sports top and neon pink Muay Thai shorts. She was sweating, but she didn't look tired; she looked like she had just warmed up.

"Hello, Kaori," Renji murmured, without turning. "Thanks for catching me the other day."

"You're welcome. You weighed less than you looked," she leaned forward, invading his visual space. Her eyes were large, expressive, and frighteningly focused. "So? What was that? Anemia? Hypoglycemia?"

Renji shrank into his hoodie. She was too sharp. "It was a tension crash. Fight stress."

"Stress," Kaori laughed, elbowing him in the ribs. Renji groaned in real pain. "Oops. Sorry, Mr. Glass. But seriously, I watched the video of your fight against Goro about fifty times. You didn't use a guard. You ate the punches. That's not technique. That's... something else."

She became serious for a second, analyzing him. "But today... today you look like a wet kitten. Where is the stone monster?"

"He's resting," Renji said, defensive. "I can't train this week. Doctor's orders."

Kaori huffed, snapping her fingers impatiently. "What a drag! I wanted to spar with you. I wanted to see if I'd break my shin on you."

"You're a sadist."

"I'm passionate about efficiency!" she corrected, jumping off the bench and starting to stretch right there. "Your style in the qualifier was crude, ugly, inelegant... but it was effective. I like that. But do you know what your problem is?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"You fight like a punching bag that came to life," she said, stretching her leg into a perfect vertical split. "You rely on tanking damage. But what if you get someone who doesn't strike? Someone who submits you? Or someone faster than you? Your 'stone' is useless if you can't touch them."

Renji knew she was right. He had beaten Goro because Goro was stupid and tried to trade strength with him. In the Top 32, the fighters would be smarter.

"I know," Renji admitted. "My technique is mediocre."

Kaori stopped stretching. She looked at him, and a wide smile lit up her face. "Then I have an idea! Since you're on the 'bench' this week and can't sweat... use your eyes."

She pointed to the central ring. "I'm going to spar with Kenji now. Analyze me. Tell me where my mistakes are. If you can find one, I'll buy you dinner. If you can't... you pay me when you win the tournament prize."

Renji looked at her. Her energy was contagious. She wasn't looking at him with pity, like Kenji, nor with greed, like Hiroshi. She looked at him like a challenge.

"I don't have money for dinner out, Kaori."

"Then you better have good eyes," she winked and ran to the ring, shouting for the coach.

Renji watched her. Kaori fought like her nickname suggested: "The Blade." She was fast, sharp, precise. But Renji, with his analytical mind, could see.

She leaves her support foot too light when she winds up for the high kick. If someone sweeps the foot in that millisecond...

Renji smiled, for the first time in four days.

He was weak. He was in collapse. But he wasn't useless.

There were twenty-six days left until the tournament. He had a week of recovery, a friend handling the finances, and a champion challenging him.

"Support foot, Kaori," Renji whispered to himself. "You lift your heel."

For the first time, Renji felt that maybe, just maybe, he could survive this crazy world without relying only on the Master.