As the alarm blasted on max volume, your gray eyes slowly opened. Lights and sounds flooded your head and flashed before your eyes as you slowly sat up in your bed. Your head was pounding and first thought that came was, Shit...I got a hangover.

As the lights faded, you slowly got out and turned off the alarm. It was playing some cheap 80's rock that you hated. As you walked out your small bedroom, you nearly walked into a wall out pure dizziness that fell over you. Regaining your senses, you made to the bathroom that lay farther down the small hallway.

You leaned over the counter before the sink and held your head in your hands as you squeezed your eyes shut. Your short black and silver hair fell over you them and you took in a few, deep breaths. You peeled off your baggy clothing and took the dog tags off. You got into the shower, and the warm water felt so good against your sore body.

Drying off, you changed into torn jeans and a black and white, baggy shirt. Your dog tags came on as you brushed your teeth, and the sour, stale taste of beer was finally gone. You stumbled into the tiny kitchen and dug into a drawer for some aspirin. Clutching it as you filled a glass with water, you swallowed them. Oh how pills were your friends.

You closed you eyes again, and pills affect took place. Glancing around, you saw that your small apartment was a mess. Random tools like hammers and wrenches were everywhere with empty food boxes in the kitchen. The sink was filled and your fridge was empty.

You groaned at the thought of cleaning everything up, and you sat down at the table with a thud. You put your head on the surface, under your arms as you tried to get a small doze. But then, a thought crossed your mind. "Tournament today." You winced and got up. Grabbing the keys off the table, you walked over to your room. CD cases, and CDs lay scattered over the floor, as well as different clothing. All of which were dark and baggy. Your small drawer was covered with blades and gun parts. You grabbed a capsule and slammed the front door shut. Locking it, you walked down the stairs and threw the capsule when you got outside the building.

A black motorcycle came out with a poof, as well as a silver helmet. You grimly climbed onto it and jammed the helmet over your head as you threw the key into the ignition. The bike roared to life and you sped off.

~*~

You wandered around the tournament site for a while. The atmosphere was suffocating. Different emotions cascaded down onto you like a landslide. The sea of people stretched out as far as you could tell. Little kids ran around, loving the thrill of being at a festival while parents scolded them for running away. Bratty kids screaming for things that they wanted while their guardians dug around for money.

Different booths were opened. Hot dog stands, ice-cream carts, clothing shops, etc etc. The place was alive and buzzing with life.

It was truly making you sick.

Didnt they all realize everything was a lie? A hell-dammed lie? It wasnt like the happiness was going to last that they were getting so high off of it.

What you would give to be back in bed right now. Lost away in your dreams and far from reality. You pushed and shoved your way to colossal, white building that would hold the National Martial Arts Tournament. You know, the one all the tough guys went to, to show off how strong they were when they couldnt do shit. As you walked through the doors, sounds people and fighting filled the air. You glanced around, shoving your hand deeper into your baggy jeans.

"Look out!"

You rocked onto your heels and stuck your hand out. You arm stiff-armed a boy right into his chest. He coughed and almost gagged as you glared venomously. The boys dark eyes were wide as they stared into your void gray ones. Your fingers twitched in your pockets as they wanted so badly to punch the little fuckers face. Your eyes narrowed dangerously as the boys eyes traveled to the two small black teardrops tattooed under your right eye. He quickly straightened up and his well-toned arms closed around a black duffel bag.

Your body went instantly alert and time seemed to slow down as you battled the thought of punching him the face. A silky voice in the back of your head whispered that you should, it claimed that it would make you feel better.

The smile on his face slowly disappeared as he continued to look into your heated glare. His black spiky hair fell into his eyes as he slid past you, continuing as if you hadnt been there at all. Your body snapped out of its daze as you watched his back turn a corner.

Well, it looked like you missed a pointless fight. Rude ass jerk didn't even say sorry for almost running you over. Although...the rushed feeling of the whole thing seemed to still be in your blood. Your heart was still pounding from the near-fight thrill. Your body feed off it. The feeling of wanting to fight hammered in you blood.

You sighed and tried to shake off the feeling, but most of it still lingered. You made your way to the registration desk and told them your purpose-you were entering the tournament. The official pulled out a form and grabbed a pen. He asked the following questions:

"Name?"

"Shizen."

"Age?"

"18"

"Location?"

You smirked at this one. "Halo City." The officials face drained of color as he stammered, "All-all right, you-youre in Block B." you didnt reply as you head towards another room. The doors pushed open and 4 different platforms were laid out. They were each surrounded by a whole bunch of people. Most of them were going to be eliminated. You made your way towards Block B and waited for your name to be called. When it did, you climbed onto the platform. Your opponent was someone you could have gone your life without facing.

He was a burly man in a sailor suit that was way too small. On his head rested a small cap, symbolizing he was a captain. The gong sounded to start the match. The captain looked you up and down and said, "Lookie here, girly, youre not supposed be here. This is a mans competition and you can go back to the corner you were dealing drugs."

You frowned at this. You ran so fast towards him that it looked like you disappeared. You punched him right above his diaphragm. The feel of his ribs cracking under your fist made you feel so much better. this is what you had been craving. He keeled over and you slammed a kick into his face. Again, as his jaw snapped under the side of your black combat boots, your body flared with adrenaline. You needed the feel of violence.

You were addicted.

As he fell over, you stomped your foot onto his neck and bent over. "I would go back to my corner if the those fucking cops hadn't crashed the fun." You hissed. You loved the fear that crept into his eyes as well as the shock.

With one last push on his neck, you walked off the platform. The stares on you were piercing as you held your head up and leaned onto a wall, waiting for your next fight.

~*~

It was finally the finals and only 12 people remained-one of them was you. You walked onto the main arena with the other 11, and frowned at the sight of seeing the boy who almost crashed into you. Now that you could really look at him, you saw that he was your age-maybe a year older- with spiky black hair that was off to his left side. He was talking to another boy that had ear length light purple hair. He had light blue eyes and wore a fitted black shirt that showed off his well-toned arms and abs.

You rolled your eyes as a random feeling crept into the pit of you stomach. It wasnt butterflies or anything; you decided that it was anger. But where did this anger come from, you didnt have an answer to that. Maybe it was for him nearly running you over and not caring? Yeamaybe it was that. You hated being ignored like that.

You glanced around as the announcer rambled on about the grand prize and how Mr. Satan couldnt be here due to surgery blah blah. You couldnt care. Turn by turn, you were all called up to pick a blue ball out of a box. The numbers written on the balls to determine whom you were fighting. Being called up last, you picked the last blue ball. "And Shizen has picked number 7!"

You walked off the platform without looking at whom you were fighting. Youd find out when the time came. Your mind was finally, completely, at ease thanks to the aspirin that you had taken and you were starving. You walked around trying to find a vending machine that you gave a candy bar or two. After taking pointless turns and slamming your fist into every other wall, you finally heard the familiar clank of something falling in a machine.

You walked a corner to see the finally found vending machine. Ignoring the people who were loitering around it, you pulled out a crumpled up dollar bill and made a sad attempt to iron it out. You shoved it in, and punched in a number. A chocolate bar fell out. You were bending down to pick it up when a voice said behind you, "Im sorry about before, it was really rude for me not to apologize, but I was a real hurry."

You turned to face the boy with the spiky hair. He wore a sheepish grin as the boy with the purple hair stood behind him, eyeing you. "My name Goten, and this is my friend Trunks. Were both in the tournament too." You blinked, turned, and walked off, ripping the cover off the chocolate. "Don't care." ....yes you did.

You could feel them staring at your back as you walked off. You could feel their expressions. You walked back onto the main arena just as the announcer was calling the first fight of the tournament. It was between a 13-year-old girl with an orange bandanna and jeans and a guy dressed in a homemade superhero costume. Freak. You thought as you watched the girl kick the heros ass.

As you watched the rest of the fights go before you, you sat on a bench bored. You still hadnt figured out whom you were fighting. You didnt really care. It was something else that had gotten your attention. Somehow, word had gotten around that you were from Halo City, and as everyone walked by you, you got stared at. It was really bugging you, and were positive that the next person who gave you a dirty look will get a punch in the face.

3 seconds after that thought crossed your mind, a guy with a thick, black hair, tided back in a pony tail gave you a dirty look and muttered something. You got up and cracked your knuckles. You walked up to him, a frown and glare etched into your face. "You got a problem?" you hissed. despite his actions before, when you locked eyes with him, he visibly shook and gulped. But alas, he tried to be a tough guy. "Yea I do. Go back to the fucking hole you crawled out of bitch."

You tilted your head back and blinked. Then smirked. "Watch your mouth kid, or that face of yours is gunna look like a potato." The edges of his mouth tugged upwards as he growled. "Aw. Did I make the wittle-doggy upset?" you mocked.

You could his mouth moving. You knew he was saying something. But all that was processing in your mind was the look on his face after you slammed a punch into his face. And just as your fingers began to form a fist, your name was called.

"And now! Give it up for Shizen, whos going to be taking on Rocky!"

The guy in front of you looked up shocked. You couldn't help but give a growl of a laugh. Looks like you were going to get your wish.

You turned you heel and walked off. You called over you shoulder, taunting, "Whats the matter? Scared?"

The boy now known as Rocky, stood still. His mouth hanging open. He was really going to have to fight you? From head to toe you were blasting the proud fact that you were a gangster. He really was wishing he hadn't said anything now.

But as he saw you walking up those steps to the white, tiled arena, he mustered up his courage and followed you.

The crowd's cheer pulsed in your ears and your body tensed up. You got into a stance as did Rocky. The gong sounded and the fight was on.