[ This doesn't feel good writing but Sasara knows what he wants. Riou, you're too nice for laughing at his jokes and Jyuto reminds him of someone. ] Blame your loss on your team mates❓💥✋😠
[ Ah... he has half a mind to throw his device away and punch something. What Samatoki does is punch something without throwing his device. He has to be the one to get the last word. He has to win this time. ]
you got no fuckin idea what youre talkin about
[ The following text just so happens to be a park in Level 2 of Lunatia. There's an appointed time, too. It's fifteen minutes from now, because even though Samatoki's supposed to be working, he's not going to let this pass.
Nevermind if he doesn't have a job tomorrow, but if someone's putting words in his mouth, then he needs to do something about it. Mad Trigger Crew may not have been around for long just yet, but they're strong because they all have the same goal. They all didn't band together just because they wanted to be at the top; they did because they want Chuo-ku to go down. They may have lost to Matenrou, but Samatoki would never blame his teammates for it.
His rap is so much better now, his words cut through like a knife, and the impact of his beats could crush any man. They lost because Matenrou was better, not because he, Jyuto, or Riou lacked in spirit. It's insulting Sasara would even say something like that—to insult his teammates when he doesn't even know any better. He sure as hell isn't losing to Sasara now. He's stronger, not to mention, he's more than willing to abandon all reason to hurt his former partner compared to how it was years ago.
When Samatoki leaves the cafe, the fridge has a huge dent thanks to his knuckles, and he heads to the park with a bruised hand. Does he care? Fuck no. ]
[ There's going to be no answer to that text. It'll be enough if he shows up, right? Sasara can imagine Samatoki has probably given some random object the boot, or folded his job at the cafe into a knuckle sandwich.
If he thinks about that final Division Battle he watched, another day might have been all to make a difference. Of course it's not about Jyuto and Riou. Hadn't they been thrown in this place they'd face off on a stage instead. Walking into a park comes with an eerie sense of reminiscence and while Sasara makes it just before those fifteen minutes are up he stops quite a ways from where MTC's leader is standing. ]
What're you thinking, Samatoki?
[ A cool question in response to the obviously heated temper, even with an answer that's obvious. That Samatoki doesn't want to just talk is more than apparent. What's Sasara thinking?
Apologies are two years late. It even seems selfish to try and make it that easy now; it's better not to talk about things he already understands. Sasara has his hands in the pockets of that houndstooth suit, not as blue as the combination that used to suit him. (Time to turn back time, at least just that far.) Regardless of the outcome, it's unlikely they'll be a team again but... ]
We're not kids running around for scraps of territory anymore.
[ Yokohama's Mad Dog doesn't really talk. Or think. If Samatoki sees something he doesn't like, he starts barking immediately. It's going to take a while to calm him down, and even then, like any mad dog, it takes someone he's used to to get him to calm down.
At this time? It's Riou and Jyuto who are capable of doing it, and even then, Samatoki sure as hell would be pissed with them before he completely settles. If they meddle, anyway.
Anyway, what is he thinking? He meant what he said. He's going to show his resentment through words. In response to Sasara's question, he takes out his Hypnosis Mic. With shining light and smoke, it turns into his own personal microphone, the black mic changing appearance to become the retro silver mic with a skull head. Samatoki's Hypnosis Speakers get summoned as well, its coffin-like appearance grounding where this is headed.
Sasara's grave. ]
... You got a mic, don't you? [ He may have been unaware of Sasara's status before—that he hadn't been participating in division rap battles, but he sure as hell thinks the guy has a mic. Sasara wouldn't be standing here by himself, otherwise. ] Bring it the fuck out.
[ Dogs that bark don't bite, or however it is the saying goes. Well, that doesn't consider the power of the microphones nor Samatoki's temperament. Talk about the power of words too; Sasara knows how ambiguous they can be, how sometimes they aren't meant. But he's sure Samatoki is saying just what he wants to.
Ah. The towering shape of his speakers comes with an old familiarity. It's terrifying now. Sasara has to crane his neck to look up at the coffin in full. The sight makes him nervous – actually, honestly. It doesn't show on his face, at least not from where he's standing.
His own mic? Is it still calm confidence or hesitation when Sasara takes it out slowly? It's just as black and simple, and he holds it out like he's asking Samatoki if he's satisfied just to be shown it. ] Here, there's no reason for you to hold back.
[ Because he's ready to fight back, right? Sasara activates his mic and it extends out into that vintage condenser microphone he's always stood behind. Like the skull mic flashing its empty eyes at Sasara, Samatoki must remember it too. It's not for territory, but there's no question of what the point of this battle is.
Just like Jyuto and Riou, Rosho and Rei wouldn't be any help. ]
[ This battle is two years late. Samatoki could have gone back to Sasara once he was ready to face him, but in all honesty, was Samatoki even ready for closure? The man before him was the second person Samatoki trusted the most. Nemu was first, of course.
All Samatoki can see now is red, anger clouding his judgment. Samatoki could easily be the better man here— talk and try to fix things, but Samatoki chooses to climb atop the mountain that is his pride. He may have lost his friend, and now he's lost his only family, but the bond he has with his sister is something that can't be severed no matter what. No matter how long it takes, no matter how much it hurts, he's going to get Nemu back.
Sasara, he's given up on. He's done nothing to the guy thay deserved the treatment that he did. Samatoki always had Sasara's back, but when Sasara was given the chance to guard Samatoki's, he took a knife and stabbed him with it. That's not Sasara being taken away the same way Nemu was— that's betrayal.
It's not something that Samatoki can forgive. ]
You don't gotta tell me twice, [ The words that will come out are two years late, but they're definitely words that have been polished during all those days. The beat comes from the speakers, quick and rough. Samatoki intends to finish this quickly. His time's better used elsewhere. ]
I got rage every day, buildin' up inside me that I can't even see, Confusion, betrayal, guilt, misery - youdamnbetterknow what the fuck you did to me Two years late, we're havin' a Mad Comic Dialogue, You're gonna be bloody and bruised, 'cause I'm Yokohama's Mad Dog!
You think you got a place here, but Lunatia's turned blue, Ain't got no time, no space, for someone I once knew, It'sallover, it'sallover, you may as well withdraw, Before your head's in a jar and your body's in pieces, 'cause I'm gonna fuck you raw!
[ Dragging on unsung, Sasara could pretend to anyone else that he'd forgotten in all this time. Far from it. He'd stuffed his regret in his suitcase when he went back to Osaka and never emptied it out, never been able to unpack what'd happened that day. If only they both knew.
He has come here with every intention of losing, not because he'll throw the fight but because he deserves it. The verse fast brings him to his knees, it's powerful and angry. It's everything he expects and then some... because it makes his head hurt beyond the lyrics getting in his ears. (What's going on?!) ]
Ggh... Sa-Samatoki.
[ It's not just the words that make him cringe and hold his head, the threat of them. No. He feels strange. (I-I know why I came here!) Sasara sits behind his microphone and already looks close to defeat. He sways as he pulls himself up, but that is it. He's not staying down. ]
GAAAHH! [ Sasara wraps his hands around the mic stand. (My head... hurts.) He looks at Samatoki. There's something in that narrow gaze, something. His own dread clouds Sasara's side of the view, landing a realization that can't pass through the fog.
The beat picks up over his confusion. ]
Two and two? <It's a double-run hit> Quit the game, I'll put ya down like a dog <Do you still trust in blind faith?> Someone who never learns from his ways, I can't stand your pride, your fucking face, This dialogue'll be your EPILOGUE!
Mad Dog's hollow rhymes got me livid, You good for nothing gangster, That dirty trade'll never turn a clean profit! I'll finish ya where I finished– Ggh...!
[ Sasara breaks away from his microphone, like it just gave him an electric shock, yet the pain's not in his hands but where he holds them again. He pushes the heels of his palms against his temples. It may sound like, but his plea isn't for Samatoki. ] Ngh– I can't...! Stop!
[ Samatoki falls on one knee, and his head's started to hurt. He gets stronger when he's in a lot more pain, a special trait that he somehow possesses, compared to other rappers out there. Right now though, while there's a ringing in his head that's not supposed to be there, he's aware that those verses Sasara just spit out would only damage an average thug. This guy didn't even finish his rap! ]
Are you insulting me, ah?!
[ Slowly, he pushes himself up so he's standing again. A hand is on his mic stand, holding him up, but as soon as he catches his breath, he's back to normal. ]
A kid in preschool would spit those lines easily!
[ Give him time, Sasara... He'll notice soon enough. ]
[ It's like his head's about to come apart, pounding and piercing, it feels all kinds. Just one thing brings remedy: hurting Samatoki. Fighting all instincts, a sliver of clarity made Sasara recoil from that. ]
You idiot– [ You're an idiot, Samatoki, but not because you don't understand this. Neither does Sasara. It's just to get him going again. ] If that's all ya got, I don't have to try! Ggh... [ Is it worth the agony if he sounds the same? (I'm about to pass out, if I keep going...) The first time struggling against the compulsion had been a useless after-thought, if that much.
He just can't keep it up now either. The pain's too much, if he had the willpower to cry about it... Sasara clings back to his mic the same. And now, without a care for the rules of a fair fight, it's his music that comes back. This'll be his relief. ]
I'll tear ya to pieces, count on one hand how many? I'll break more than five fingers, breath rattling! Keep your head above the water, man, I'm laughing, In the bay they call that babble battling?!
[ Good! This is the kind of pain he's searching for—this is the kind of pain that he needs. Samatoki is pushed to the ground, both due to pain and pressure, but he's smiling. He's familiar with this kind of verse, even though it's been years since this kind of rap was aimed at him. It's all good. ]
Heh...
[ He gets back up, a little sluggish than last time. The smile on his face turning into a toothy grin. Whatever happens now, Samatoki's become stronger. Two more verses and he could likely knock Sasara out. His own head's ringing a little, but he's still got energy and spirit to fight.
When Samatoki's beat drops, it's noisy, hazy, like the climax of any song. ]
Yokohama, the coastal city, is the place to be, Guns, booze, crimes, all for top shinogi, "Hey, Samatoki-sama, how do you get to do all this shit?", If you don't got a dream to achieve, you're gonna lose it!
Gah...! [ Sasara remembers what his rhyme used to be like back in Ikebukuro. It was rougher in Mad Comic Dialogue, raw. Better?
He can't say.
The beat and lyrics are obviously doing the damage they need to, forcing Samatoki down once again. The answering verse leaves Sasara's nerve ends burning. The music is abrasive, even through the trance and headache he feels it. On his knees too, he then finally takes some of the distance first left standing between them. Here's another look, Samatoki... ]
A story where the crook's the hero, that's in Seine Your pipe dreams'll drown in Dotonbori river
[ His rap will hit again but Sasara up close, beyond soon spent, looks distant. ]
Mad on Trigger, where's your aim, killing your own fantasy I'm Comedy but that's tragedy
[ Samatoki lets the words hit him, lets the words hurt him, but he doesn't move from where he is. He's determined to come out the victor here. It's not just a want at this point, but a need to prove to Sasara that he's not needed anymore. Mad Comic Dialogue had the two of them leading everybody, but Samatoki stands by himself now. He doesn't need Sasara to be strong. He can get to where he wants to go with other people now.
His hold on his microphone tightens a little, a desperate attempt to not let go. His hands feel shaky, knees wobbly, but he won't let Sasara see him fall down again.
There's something wrong, though... that much he can tell. As for how to approach that part, he doesn't know yet. ]
[ That's how it'd ended. That's how it was, before he'd gone looking for excuses on his own, too glad if few people ever asked what happened to split up Mad Comic Dialogue. "I guess I wasn't myself," laughing off an answer he can't earnestly give. ]
Ha... my head...
[ Unlike Samatoki, Sasara can't stand it anymore. Literally, he's on his knees and for good. The mic wobbles a bit on its stand when he lets go. Yet, even now the right thing won't pass his lips, like his mouth is numb for that. (I'm sorry and I quit.)
He can't say what he wants to, holding his head like that'll fix the words down. ]
I'm n– I am... Hah... [ Let that one count and snap, smack, rap him out of it anyway. When Sasara opens his eyes they're all glassy. Watering? But he can see Samatoki standing on his own, this time. ]
[ That's now how his hypnosis microphone works, Samatoki thinks. Sure, his rap is strong, but it's not the type to cause headaches... It's more a kind of shockwave that pressures people to stay on the ground. A heavy kind of air.
Sasara shouldn't be crying, either. At least, that's what he thinks, anyway. This is a little confusing. . . he's honestly never seen anybody react this way to his rap. It's what brings him to start walking towards the comedian, but it's not out of the goodness of his heart.
He picks up Sasara by the collar, holding him close to his face. There's a lot of things that could be said at this time. Samatoki could start talking about the damage Sasara's done to him, but that's not manly. That's not who he wants to be. If he ever shows anyone he's weak. . . then he can never achieve his goals. ]
Two years, I've been waitin' to fight you. I didn't expect you to be so weak, Sasara.
[ Samatoki speaks softly, his voice low. It's not the usual explosive anger that he shows everybody that's speaking now. It's an anger that's been deeply seated for weeks upon weeks, months upon months. You're not supposed to wake up sleeping dogs is what they say, isn't it? ]
[ Sasara never imagined that Samatoki cried about their fight, not the man he thought of when he thought back. His own sorry feelings and emotions for spitting those crushing rhymes at him, back when? Of course, they'd never made it into words. Maybe that's what's surfacing now?
But it's that grip on his shirt that really chokes him up just now. Samatoki's tall enough to where being eye-to-eye is hard without standing weak in the knees. Sasara is too roughed up to even bring his own hands up to hold on. And anyway he'd put them back over his ears if he could – it's not even rap and the words drill deeper into his skull. All that pain, the headache and the soreness from the battle, that's just a gasp, all he can do right now.
The meaning hits harder still. Right? This was gonna be a different fight in Sasara's mind, too. But Samatoki should still know, he's not one for leaving the dog(s) alone. ]
I don't know...
[ It's just single tears that come down, instead of being swallowed right back up by Sasara's confusion. Even the low tones hurt, maybe even more because they're so earnest, but with the tears from it comes a moment of clarity just as crystal: ]
[ That's certainly confusing... Samatoki's not sure how to even respond to that. He's dumb and misses a lot of social cues, but he's doesn't miss this. Something is wrong and he doesn't know what. It's annoying. It pisses him off. He doesn't like not being on top of things. ]
The fuck does that mean.
[ He's pissed off, but this doesn't look like the kind of situation where he should continue stepping on Sasara when he's already down. ]
You're a fucking adult. Talk like one.
[ He shoves Sasara away, letting go with a slight push. Today, he's actually gonna give some time to listen. The clock is ticking. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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when that happens i hope youre ready to die
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just fuck off if you know whats good for you
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[ Throwback much? ]
I've seen you lay it down 🌊👊🙎♂️🗿🌊
But you haven't seen me ✨👋
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but ive gotten so much stronger
and nothings holdin me back anymore
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[ This doesn't feel good writing but Sasara knows what he wants.
Riou, you're too nice for laughing at his jokes and Jyuto reminds him of someone.]Blame your loss on your team mates❓💥✋😠
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you got no fuckin idea what youre talkin about
[ The following text just so happens to be a park in Level 2 of Lunatia. There's an appointed time, too. It's fifteen minutes from now, because even though Samatoki's supposed to be working, he's not going to let this pass.
Nevermind if he doesn't have a job tomorrow, but if someone's putting words in his mouth, then he needs to do something about it. Mad Trigger Crew may not have been around for long just yet, but they're strong because they all have the same goal. They all didn't band together just because they wanted to be at the top; they did because they want Chuo-ku to go down. They may have lost to Matenrou, but Samatoki would never blame his teammates for it.
His rap is so much better now, his words cut through like a knife, and the impact of his beats could crush any man. They lost because Matenrou was better, not because he, Jyuto, or Riou lacked in spirit. It's insulting Sasara would even say something like that—to insult his teammates when he doesn't even know any better. He sure as hell isn't losing to Sasara now. He's stronger, not to mention, he's more than willing to abandon all reason to hurt his former partner compared to how it was years ago.
When Samatoki leaves the cafe, the fridge has a huge dent thanks to his knuckles, and he heads to the park with a bruised hand. Does he care? Fuck no. ]
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If he thinks about that final Division Battle he watched, another day might have been all to make a difference. Of course it's not about Jyuto and Riou. Hadn't they been thrown in this place they'd face off on a stage instead. Walking into a park comes with an eerie sense of reminiscence and while Sasara makes it just before those fifteen minutes are up he stops quite a ways from where MTC's leader is standing. ]
What're you thinking, Samatoki?
[ A cool question in response to the obviously heated temper, even with an answer that's obvious. That Samatoki doesn't want to just talk is more than apparent. What's Sasara thinking?
Apologies are two years late. It even seems selfish to try and make it that easy now; it's better not to talk about things he already understands. Sasara has his hands in the pockets of that houndstooth suit, not as blue as the combination that used to suit him. (Time to turn back time, at least just that far.) Regardless of the outcome, it's unlikely they'll be a team again but... ]
We're not kids running around for scraps of territory anymore.
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At this time? It's Riou and Jyuto who are capable of doing it, and even then, Samatoki sure as hell would be pissed with them before he completely settles. If they meddle, anyway.
Anyway, what is he thinking? He meant what he said. He's going to show his resentment through words. In response to Sasara's question, he takes out his Hypnosis Mic. With shining light and smoke, it turns into his own personal microphone, the black mic changing appearance to become the retro silver mic with a skull head. Samatoki's Hypnosis Speakers get summoned as well, its coffin-like appearance grounding where this is headed.
Sasara's grave. ]
... You got a mic, don't you? [ He may have been unaware of Sasara's status before—that he hadn't been participating in division rap battles, but he sure as hell thinks the guy has a mic. Sasara wouldn't be standing here by himself, otherwise. ] Bring it the fuck out.
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Ah. The towering shape of his speakers comes with an old familiarity. It's terrifying now. Sasara has to crane his neck to look up at the coffin in full. The sight makes him nervous – actually, honestly. It doesn't show on his face, at least not from where he's standing.
His own mic? Is it still calm confidence or hesitation when Sasara takes it out slowly? It's just as black and simple, and he holds it out like he's asking Samatoki if he's satisfied just to be shown it. ] Here, there's no reason for you to hold back.
[ Because he's ready to fight back, right? Sasara activates his mic and it extends out into that vintage condenser microphone he's always stood behind. Like the skull mic flashing its empty eyes at Sasara, Samatoki must remember it too. It's not for territory, but there's no question of what the point of this battle is.
Just like Jyuto and Riou, Rosho and Rei wouldn't be any help. ]
You can take the lead first.
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All Samatoki can see now is red, anger clouding his judgment. Samatoki could easily be the better man here— talk and try to fix things, but Samatoki chooses to climb atop the mountain that is his pride. He may have lost his friend, and now he's lost his only family, but the bond he has with his sister is something that can't be severed no matter what. No matter how long it takes, no matter how much it hurts, he's going to get Nemu back.
Sasara, he's given up on. He's done nothing to the guy thay deserved the treatment that he did. Samatoki always had Sasara's back, but when Sasara was given the chance to guard Samatoki's, he took a knife and stabbed him with it. That's not Sasara being taken away the same way Nemu was— that's betrayal.
It's not something that Samatoki can forgive. ]
You don't gotta tell me twice, [ The words that will come out are two years late, but they're definitely words that have been polished during all those days. The beat comes from the speakers, quick and rough. Samatoki intends to finish this quickly. His time's better used elsewhere. ]
I got rage every day, buildin' up inside me that I can't even see,
Confusion, betrayal, guilt, misery - youdamnbetterknow what the fuck you did to me
Two years late, we're havin' a Mad Comic Dialogue,
You're gonna be bloody and bruised, 'cause I'm Yokohama's Mad Dog!
You think you got a place here, but Lunatia's turned blue,
Ain't got no time, no space, for someone I once knew,
It'sallover, it'sallover, you may as well withdraw,
Before your head's in a jar and your body's in pieces, 'cause I'm gonna fuck you raw!
[ WHY DID HE WORD HIS ANGER LIKE THAT WHY ]
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He has come here with every intention of losing, not because he'll throw the fight but because he deserves it. The verse fast brings him to his knees, it's powerful and angry. It's everything he expects and then some... because it makes his head hurt beyond the lyrics getting in his ears. (What's going on?!) ]
Ggh...
Sa-Samatoki.
[ It's not just the words that make him cringe and hold his head, the threat of them. No. He feels strange. (I-I know why I came here!) Sasara sits behind his microphone and already looks close to defeat. He sways as he pulls himself up, but that is it. He's not staying down. ]
GAAAHH! [ Sasara wraps his hands around the mic stand. (My head... hurts.) He looks at Samatoki. There's something in that narrow gaze, something. His own dread clouds Sasara's side of the view, landing a realization that can't pass through the fog.
The beat picks up over his confusion. ]
Two and two? <It's a double-run hit>
Quit the game, I'll put ya down like a dog
<Do you still trust in blind faith?>
Someone who never learns from his ways,
I can't stand your pride, your fucking face,
This dialogue'll be your EPILOGUE!
Mad Dog's hollow rhymes got me livid,
You good for nothing gangster,
That dirty trade'll never turn a clean profit!
I'll finish ya where I finished– Ggh...!
[ Sasara breaks away from his microphone, like it just gave him an electric shock, yet the pain's not in his hands but where he holds them again. He pushes the heels of his palms against his temples. It may sound like, but his plea isn't for Samatoki. ] Ngh– I can't...! Stop!
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Are you insulting me, ah?!
[ Slowly, he pushes himself up so he's standing again. A hand is on his mic stand, holding him up, but as soon as he catches his breath, he's back to normal. ]
A kid in preschool would spit those lines easily!
[ Give him time, Sasara... He'll notice soon enough. ]
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You idiot– [ You're an idiot, Samatoki, but not because you don't understand this. Neither does Sasara. It's just to get him going again. ] If that's all ya got, I don't have to try! Ggh... [ Is it worth the agony if he sounds the same? (I'm about to pass out, if I keep going...) The first time struggling against the compulsion had been a useless after-thought, if that much.
He just can't keep it up now either. The pain's too much, if he had the willpower to cry about it... Sasara clings back to his mic the same. And now, without a care for the rules of a fair fight, it's his music that comes back. This'll be his relief. ]
I'll tear ya to pieces, count on one hand how many?
I'll break more than five fingers, breath rattling!
Keep your head above the water, man, I'm laughing,
In the bay they call that babble battling?!
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Heh...
[ He gets back up, a little sluggish than last time. The smile on his face turning into a toothy grin. Whatever happens now, Samatoki's become stronger. Two more verses and he could likely knock Sasara out. His own head's ringing a little, but he's still got energy and spirit to fight.
When Samatoki's beat drops, it's noisy, hazy, like the climax of any song. ]
Yokohama, the coastal city, is the place to be,
Guns, booze, crimes, all for top shinogi,
"Hey, Samatoki-sama, how do you get to do all this shit?",
If you don't got a dream to achieve, you're gonna lose it!
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He can't say.
The beat and lyrics are obviously doing the damage they need to, forcing Samatoki down once again. The answering verse leaves Sasara's nerve ends burning. The music is abrasive, even through the trance and headache he feels it. On his knees too, he then finally takes some of the distance first left standing between them. Here's another look, Samatoki... ]
A story where the crook's the hero, that's in Seine
Your pipe dreams'll drown in Dotonbori river
[ His rap will hit again but Sasara up close, beyond soon spent, looks distant. ]
Mad on Trigger, where's your aim, killing your own fantasy
I'm Comedy but that's tragedy
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His hold on his microphone tightens a little, a desperate attempt to not let go. His hands feel shaky, knees wobbly, but he won't let Sasara see him fall down again.
There's something wrong, though... that much he can tell. As for how to approach that part, he doesn't know yet. ]
You ready to give up, Sasara?
[ He'll start there. ]
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[ That's how it'd ended. That's how it was, before he'd gone looking for excuses on his own, too glad if few people ever asked what happened to split up Mad Comic Dialogue. "I guess I wasn't myself," laughing off an answer he can't earnestly give. ]
Ha... my head...
[ Unlike Samatoki, Sasara can't stand it anymore. Literally, he's on his knees and for good. The mic wobbles a bit on its stand when he lets go. Yet, even now the right thing won't pass his lips, like his mouth is numb for that. (I'm sorry and I quit.)
He can't say what he wants to, holding his head like that'll fix the words down. ]
I'm n– I am... Hah... [ Let that one count and snap, smack, rap him out of it anyway. When Sasara opens his eyes they're all glassy. Watering? But he can see Samatoki standing on his own, this time. ]
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[ That's now how his hypnosis microphone works, Samatoki thinks. Sure, his rap is strong, but it's not the type to cause headaches... It's more a kind of shockwave that pressures people to stay on the ground. A heavy kind of air.
Sasara shouldn't be crying, either. At least, that's what he thinks, anyway. This is a little confusing. . . he's honestly never seen anybody react this way to his rap. It's what brings him to start walking towards the comedian, but it's not out of the goodness of his heart.
He picks up Sasara by the collar, holding him close to his face. There's a lot of things that could be said at this time. Samatoki could start talking about the damage Sasara's done to him, but that's not manly. That's not who he wants to be. If he ever shows anyone he's weak. . . then he can never achieve his goals. ]
Two years, I've been waitin' to fight you. I didn't expect you to be so weak, Sasara.
[ Samatoki speaks softly, his voice low. It's not the usual explosive anger that he shows everybody that's speaking now. It's an anger that's been deeply seated for weeks upon weeks, months upon months. You're not supposed to wake up sleeping dogs is what they say, isn't it? ]
What the hell's with you?!
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But it's that grip on his shirt that really chokes him up just now. Samatoki's tall enough to where being eye-to-eye is hard without standing weak in the knees. Sasara is too roughed up to even bring his own hands up to hold on. And anyway he'd put them back over his ears if he could – it's not even rap and the words drill deeper into his skull. All that pain, the headache and the soreness from the battle, that's just a gasp, all he can do right now.
The meaning hits harder still. Right? This was gonna be a different fight in Sasara's mind, too.
But Samatoki should still know, he's not one for leaving the dog(s) alone. ]
I don't know...
[ It's just single tears that come down, instead of being swallowed right back up by Sasara's confusion. Even the low tones hurt, maybe even more because they're so earnest, but with the tears from it comes a moment of clarity just as crystal: ]
I don't know what I'm doing anymore...
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The fuck does that mean.
[ He's pissed off, but this doesn't look like the kind of situation where he should continue stepping on Sasara when he's already down. ]
You're a fucking adult. Talk like one.
[ He shoves Sasara away, letting go with a slight push. Today, he's actually gonna give some time to listen. The clock is ticking. ]
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i am so sorry about this tag taking like a month guys ;;__;;
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i arrive finally hello
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omg you guys can kick me next time!!!! PLS
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