The man contorted his face in anger and he seemed ready to burst. “Do you seriously believe I would stoop to your level of filth? No! How dare you say such a thing!”

“Then leave.” Remi finally spoke up. “We aren’t to blame for your problems. If you’re here to just spit and scream then you can go.”

“Are you really not to blame? You tolerate everything we stand against! Damn you…” The man glared at them both. “Damn both of you to hell!”

Ryo reacted out of pure, natural instinct. The man was a lit fuse from the start, erratic and itching for a fight. And it was the instant after he cursed them that the spark found ignition: his fists balled, muscles tensed, and his body weight shifted to an aggressive momentum. Ryo saw the obvious signs of an impending fight and despite the man’s suddenness he had first contact.

The man shot a quick jab at Ryo’s face, connecting with nothing but air as Ryo leaned back effortlessly. Time seemed to slow for a short, amused moment, before Ryo twisted around the outstretched arm and firmly headbutted his nearly defenseless assailant in the nose. The man recoiled, sending spiral rivulets of blood onto the counter and stumbling into his partner. The dark-skinned man yelled and pushed him aside, eyes locked on Ryo, fists ready.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Like a coiled snake, Remi lunged for the dark-skinned man and clocked him solidly in the chin, both bodies falling to the floor in a flurry of fists and unladylike words. Ryo was left standing with the other, who had already recovered and rushed back for more. This time he fought cautiously, yet with a vigor that surprised Ryo enough to take the man’s vehemence a little more seriously. He feinted a right hook before launching his entire body into Ryo, a move so asinine it managed to catch him off guard and pin him against a wall in the process. The man slammed Ryo’s head back and punched him hard in the gut, knocking the air from his lungs. Ryo gasped and pulled his head to the side, barely missing the fist that swung through the air. He laughed wryly and spiked his knee up into the man’s ribcage. His grip loosened on Ryo and he groaned stiffly. Ryo wrested loose and shouldered him away, and the man stepped back defensively, fists raised.

Ryo stood and stretched his arms out playfully. The gut punch had hurt but Ryo was well experienced enough to shrug it off: it was going to take a lot worse than that to put him down.

“Well this is a bit of fun, now isn’t it?” he said.

“You childish brat,” the man hissed. “I’ll teach you some respect!”

The man lunged at him with a flurry of fists. One after the other, Ryo flowed around them. He kept his arms out, counterbalancing with the momentum. Once or twice the man got close enough for Ryo to block the attack and quickly shift his opponent away. He knew how easy it would be to put the man down if he pulled a reckless tackle again but there was no fun in that. The man launched a kick and Ryo was ready for the change in pace: he grabbed the foot meant for his hip and upended the man, throwing him on his back. He quickly recovered, rolling backwards onto his feet to reduce his vulnerable state but he was too late. As he stood, his head still bent forward, Ryo sprung ahead and pulled a punch straight up into his jaw. As he recoiled, Ryo kicked him in the chest in the same spot he had kneed him. The man staggered horribly; at least one of his ribs must have been broken. He clutched his chest and wheezed for a moment while Ryo waited, biding his time. Finally, the man decided for one more hasty assault. He bellowed and lunged, but now he was much too slow. His energy was sapped and his wounds too painful. The man took a swing and missed wide, and as his weight carried him forward Ryo tripped him up, putting the man on the floor again. This time Ryo didn’t hesitate: he kicked him swiftly in the side of the head and the man jerked with the blow. He didn’t bother to get back up.