He was never like this. This type of energy and excitement was usually reserved for the moments leading up to his fights. He'd never been this enthusiastic, especially not in the mornings.
He hated morning training. He had always been late to morning training, ever since Myoga took him under his wing. But today, when Myoga approached the door to the gym he could practically feel the bass of the rap music through the brass doorknob. When he opened the door, he noticed that Inuyasha had taken the liberty of letting himself. He was hanging upside down from the pull up bar, his arms hanging past his head, sweat dripping from his brow onto the mat under him. "Hi Myoga!" He'd said cheerily, waving a hand at Myoga who stood glued to his position in front of the door, dropping his bag onto the floor.
"O-Ohayō...Inuyasha..." Myoga said, eyebrows crinkling together in confusing as he watched Inuyasha flip off the bar, grabbing his water bottle from the mat and taking a drink from it. "You're here, um...very early." He said, finally moving from his spot.
And in a good mood? I must be dreaming. Is he even cleared to be here yet? Well...his arm cast is off so I can only assume so. Myoga thought to himself, eyes narrowing wearily as he passed by Inuyasha, making his way toward his office in the back of the gym. His keys jingled in his hands as he glanced back, watching as he moved toward the squat rack and began loading on the weights. "When did you get here?!" He called from his spot, projecting his voice over the rap music that blared through the speakers in the gym. He saw a fluffy ivory ear flicker in his direction as he ducked under the barbell, adjusting his hand width and stance in the mirrors. "Inuyasha!"
"Like 5:30!" Inuyasha called back, raising the barbell up out of the hooks and taking a few steps back, before squatting.
"He doesn't start til...2 hours from now." Myoga muttered to himself, looking down at the apple watch on his wrist. Shaking his head, he entered his office and sat down at his desk, looking over the mess of papers on his desk. Most of them pertaining to Inuyasha and his recovery from his accident. He read carefully over the most recent report from his doctor, which was less than a week old. "...can resume light exercise." He muttered to himself, sighing. The clattering of metal onto hooks broke his attention away from the report for a brief second, before he looked back down at the paper in his hands. He set it aside and picked up a manilla folder, Inuyasha's name written in neat cursive on the tab, with the kanji version printed carefully under it. The front of the folder had the UFC logo on it, a tell-tale sign of official fight documents. "Inuyasha!" Myoga called out, rolling his eyes as the music switched to reggaeton, spanish lyrics filling the gym as he walked out from his office. Inuyasha's loud, incoherent attempt at spanish making him instantly wish he could smash the speakers in the gym. He walked toward the fighter, waving the manilla folder up in the air. "Cut it out! This is important!" He hollered, finally catching Inuyasha's attention.
"Huh?" Inuyasha asked, barely able to keep his energy contained. "What is it?" He asked, taking the folder from Myoga. He reached into his pocket and pressed one of the buttons on the side of the phone, turning down the music.
"I don't know, I haven't looked at it." Myoga said honestly, shrugging his shoulders. "Open it."
Inuyasha opened the folder, taking out the small stack of papers before tossing the folder aside.
Addressed to: The gym of Inuyasha "War baby" Takahashi
Subject: Ranking, Schedule, Rematch request
Hello,
Attached to this small letter you will find your new fight schedule for the remainder of the year of 2020, your new ranking at Ultimate Fighting Championship, and an official rematch request. Should you have any questions or prefer a copy of these documents in your native language, please have your manager contact us.
Best,
UFC Board of Directors.
"What is it?" Myoga asked, watching Inuyasha fold back the cover letter and scanning the spreadsheet, golden eyes scanning the sheet rapidly for months, dates, times, places. But most importantly people, though he had too much energy to actually focus on what he was looking at.
"My new schedule." Inuyasha muttered in response, "not all that important." He got sent a new schedule every time a fight time was switched, or his opponent was switched out. He'd learned to ignore the new schedule he'd get sent every few weeks. "This rematch though..." he said, his voice dragging on as he attempted to hide the jitters he had, wracking his brain for any possibility of who it may be.
Fuck, this shit hits hard.
OFFICAL REMATCH REQUEST
AT THE DIRECTION OF THE GYM OF KOGA WOLF, THE UFC BOARD OF DIRECTORS HAS BEEN ASKED TO APPROVE A REQUEST OF REMATCH FOR:
REQUESTOR: KOGA WOLF
TO
REQUESTEE: INUYASHA "WAR BABY" TAKAHASHI
AFTER CAREFUL DELIBERATION, THE UFC BOARD OF DIRECTORS HAS MOTIONED TO APPROVE THIS REQUEST. THE FIGHT WILL TAKE PLACE AT:
T-MOBILE ARENA, LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
TIME: 10:45 PM PST
DATE: AUGUST 17TH, 2020
PLEASE INDICATE BELOW IF YOU WISH TO ACCEPT OR DENY THE REQUEST AND FAX THIS LETTER BACK TO OUR OFFICE.
WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION,
The UFC Board of Directors
"Inuyasha." Myoga said, giving Inuyasha knowing look. But Inuyasha ignored him, almost running to the office, dropping the paper containing his new ranking report. He ignored Myoga's warning that his body wasn't quite ready to submit itself to brutal training just yet, and that he should deny the request.
I'll be alright, Inuyasha thought as he plucked a pen from Myoga's desk, checking the box next to 'Accept' and signing his name under the cut. He took his phone out and took a picture of the letter with his acceptance and tweeted the picture alone. Within a few minutes his phone was flooded with notifications of people retweeting and liking the tweet. He moved over to the printer that sat behind Myoga's desk, and he proceeded to fax the letter to the main office. Usually, he wouldn't give these requests the time of day, if he'd won –which, of course he had-, he wouldn't challenge anything the judges certified, that was his one rule. Once the scores were recorded on the official score cards, he considered that issue done. But today wasn't a normal day, obviously. "Done!" He announced to himself. What he liked about fighting Koga, was that he could take hits.
Koga's own style, unbeknownst to him, was Inuyasha's kryptonite. Koga was prone to leaving his body too open, allowing easy access to his ribs, stomach and liver for kicks and blows, and Koga could take them, meaning Inuyasha had a field day the last time they fought, until Koga managed to get the upper hand for a few seconds and did some real damage to his face. He ignored Myoga's advices to deny the request once more, not like he could do much about it at this point anyways.
"...Your body is not yet healed Inuyash—"
"My body, is fine." Inuyasha growled back, turning to stare at him, his hands planted on Myoga's desk. Myoga hadn't noticed until now, the difference in Inuyasha's eyes. The bloodshot look, the pupils that had dilated so little they seemed virtually non-existent. He looked as though he hadn't slept, making a chill run up Myoga's spine, the hair on the back of his neck rising.
"What is wrong with your eyes?" Myoga questioned, coming closer to the hanyou. As Inuyasha tried to look away, he reached a hand up to his face, squeezing at his cheeks and forcing him to look at him. "Have you slept?"
"No." Inuyasha admitted, ripping away from Myoga's gaze.
"So that's why you have that crazy look in your eyes." Myoga concluded, nodding. "Go home, you've been here for hours already. I'll call Bank and Renkotsu and tell them you're taking a day off." He patted Inuyasha on the back as he turned to leave the office, but much to his dismay Inuyasha only headed back to the squat rack, having been interrupted by Myoga.
"I have too much energy right now." Inuyasha said, as he ducked once again under the weight, "I gotta burn it while I can." He added, taking a few steps back again. Before I fucking crash, I mean.
This is not normal. Myoga thought to himself, watching his body duck down, before rising slowly, his hands holding the barbell with the weights on his shoulders. In his mind, Myoga's alarm bells were ringing, as he scraped every inch of his brain for what could possibly be wrong with his trainee because...fuck, this wasn't him.
Inuyasha never had this much energy in the morning. Not even at sixteen when he first took him in, not even after having his morning red bulls with his matcha latte—this was not him. He felt that this was wrong with every fiber of his being, something was off. "What's with the high spirits this morning?" Myoga asked, leaning against the squat rack, arms folded over his chest. "You can do five more reps of this weight; I know you can." He encouraged, yelling over the music, although he kept a puzzled look on his face, observing silently.
"Dunno—must be a good day, eh?" Inuyasha answered between squats, "Just...got a big burst of energy this morning, felt like coming in early." He stepped forward, putting the weight back, and taking a breath. "When was the last time I did endurance?"
"Oh really?" Myoga egged, "is that so? Where'd you get it from, Yash?"
"I just told you."
"No." Myoga said, but decided not to push it, if Inuyasha was in a good mood (which was always rare) he didn't want to be the one to sour it, and possibly ruin everyone else's day in the process. "Erm, I believe...the last time you came here?" The day before your accident, almost three weeks ago. "Why?"
"'Cause I...kinda feel like I could run for miles." Inuyasha said, jogging in place. "When's the last time I took the VO2 Max test?"
"Three months ago?" Myoga responded, more as a question as he couldn't exactly remember. "Why?" Before he could even allow Inuyasha to respond, he waved his hand dismissively. "You have only been approved for light exercise. Your interior wounds are still healing." He said hurriedly, brown eyes looking at the horizontal scar on his side. "That's enough, Inuyasha." Myoga warned, placing a hand on the barbell. "Don't push yourself beyond your limits, young man."
"I'm fine, Myoga." He snapped back, "I feel fine. I feel amazing actually—any way we can get me in for a test today?" He questioned, "you know what? I'll call the lab right now." He said, moving to pull out his phone.
"Inuyasha–stop." His hand reached toward Inuyasha's forearm, squeezing it. "Go home."
"Why are you sending him home? Is he not cleared yet?" A raspy voice said from the doorway, capturing both of their attentions. "He looks better. Welcome back, bro." he added, approaching the two men.
"Thanks, Bank." Inuyasha responded, accepting Bankotsu's handshake. "Can I talk to you in the office really quick, I just want to go over some things." He added, hoping he would pick up on his subtle hint.
"Inuyasha—"
"Myoga!" Inuyasha roared, whipping his head around to look at his trainer. "Shut. Up. I am fine. I know my body more than you know. I'm not worried, and if I'm not worried then you shouldn't be. Got it?" After a moment with no response from Myoga, (save for his furrowed eyebrows and stroking of chin, visible signs of disapproval from the flea demon) he added, "I'm not human. I don't' need more than a month of rest."
"Uh, sure." Bankotsu replied, looking worriedly between Myoga and Inuyasha, before following Inuyasha toward the back of the gym, walking into Myoga's office after him, shutting the door behind them. He glanced out of the window for a second, seeing Myoga rubbing the top of his head as he sat down on the floor, before turning back to Inuyasha. "What?"
"I need more." Inuyasha said quietly, his clawed index finger tracing circles in the wooden desk, leaving a thin trail in its wake. Golden eyes looked up from the desk at Bankotsu, who gave him a bewildered look. He looked back down at the desk, pretending to be interested in the papers on Myoga's desk. He looked back up, drawing a deep, shaky breath. He could feel himself coming down from his high, his skin was becoming itchy, a sudden feeling of fatigue was being to wash over him, and he regretted the decision to not bring some with him to the gym.
He was going to need it, and soon.
Bankotsu wracked the contents of his brain to gather what exactly was happening. "Wait...you want more?" He questioned, more for clarification than anything. He'd heard him, but...
Really?
Hadn't I given him...enough?
"Yes," the half-demon replied, running a hand through his silver hair. "I'm running out. I need more." He added, "preferably today."
Today?
"Okay." Bankotsu replied, nodding his head slightly. His agreement leaving a sour taste in his mouth, "I'll stop by your place tonight."
I'm not the type to do this, fuck.
"Really?" Inuyasha said, ears pointed forward, his nose twitching as he could barely contain his excitement, despite him feeling the fatigue starting to set into his bones. The numbness in his mouth and throat was beginning to fade, a thin trail of sweat ran down his spine, dampening his could feel a sort of grittiness beginning to develop on the surface of his teeth as he swiped his tongue over them. Mentally, the hanyou cursed.
"Your nose is bleeding, Inuyasha." Bankotsu said, rushing forward. He plucked a few tissues from the small box on the desk. Inuyasha raised his eyebrows in confusion, looking down at the desk just as he saw a small drop of blood fall onto a piece of paper.
"Oh, fuck." Inuyasha under his breath, swiping at his nose. His fingers coming away with blood, he reached toward the tissues Bankotsu offered. He tilted his head up and pinched his nose with the tissues. "Shit." He cursed again, wanting to sniff, but fighting the urge to.
"So, your place tonight?"
"Yeah." He responded, still holding the tissues up to his nose. His free hand planted on the desk. "Just, let me know how much. I'll pay whatever."
Of course, you can, Bankotsu thought as he nodded his head in agreement. "Uh-sure, okay." He said, scratching the back of his neck. He felt guilty, he should feel guilty. He promised himself that he wasn't going to fuck up the opportunity Inuyasha had offered him. He brought him to America with him, gave him a fresh start alongside him, paid him well. They'd met as idiot teenagers doing things they had no business doing and now...
Now I'm selling the very thing we used to sell in Japan, back to him.
The stakes were higher back home than they are here, he wagered with himself. His left the office after muttering a goodbye to Inuyasha and crossed the hall to the locker room, sitting on a bench in front of the lockers. He held his head in his hands, his braid falling over his shoulder. He shook his head lightly, "No, no they aren't, Bank." If the stakes were higher, you would've wasted no time selling to your brothers back home.
But it's for your career!
The one thing he couldn't see Inuyasha offering him, was advancement in the industry. All the attention was always drawn to Inuyasha, he and Renkotsu were almost always overlooked and reduced to just his sparring partners. He wanted more for himself, he needed more for himself, for his brother. He had his own fights occasionally, but they were barely, if ever acknowledged by Inuyasha or the media.
So, when Naraku approached him with an offer he couldn't turn away...he took it, no matter how bitter the taste in his mouth was, no matter the risk. Naraku had proven that anyone who joined his team got to his level of success or were at least on their way up. They had what he'd been wanting for so long, and working—what felt like–in vain, for. He took a deep breath to settle his mind, and stared down at his shoes, hands clasped together. The only comfort he could find in this situation was that he and Inuyasha had a common foe: Naraku. Bankotsu didn't necessarily like Naraku, but he didn't exactly hate him either. He had more of an annoyed tolerance for the strange demon man. His bloodshot red eyes made chills run up his spine, and the subtle tinge of yellow of his skin was abnormal given his more human appearance. "I have to text him." Bankotsu resolved, taking a deep breath as he took out his phone, scrolling through his contacts for Naraku's contact name. He hesitated for a moment, his finger hoovering over the text icon. He contemplated leaving the locker-room, telling Inuyasha there was none left, that it was a one-time thing. He shook his head at the thought. He'd only find someplace else to get it from, I'd rather he get it from me.
"Bankotsu!" He heard Inuyasha call to him from the entrance of the Locker room, he sounded slightly out of breath. "C'mon, I need a spotter for my bench press!"
"Going!"
Naraku wasn't necessarily angered that Bankotsu had taken a while to text him asking for more supply. Rather, he was displeased that the dismantling of Inuyasha's reign as world champion was taking a lot longer than he initially had thought.
Much longer.
So, when he finally received that faithful text from Bankotsu, he'd all but smiled at his phone. A low chuckle escaping his mouth as he responded to the text, promising to provide what he needed by the end of the day. Inuyasha had taken everything from him. His fame, his endorsements, his glory. He wanted it back, every last drop of it, and if it meant taking his sanity along with it...
He would.
The night he lost to Inuyasha three years ago, Inuyasha had won by knock out in the first thirty seconds of the match. He still remembered the feel of Inuyasha's fist connecting with his jaw, the almost instant reaction of his body going cold and numb. He remembered his body hitting the canvas of the octagon floor with an audible thud, breaking his nose in the process. His eyes fluttering shut.
His glory.
Gone.
His belt.
Taken.
When he didn't wake up within the minute and a half following his defeat, he was carted off into an ambulance and rushed to the nearest hospital, where he awoke as he was wheeled through the hallway.
Three hours later his blood results came back.
His doping was discovered.
He could admit, Inuyasha had no fault in Naraku's doping. But he played in a role in his downfall. Had Inuyasha not knocked him out, by striking out of fear, Naraku would've retained his title, his fame, and his glory. But instead, he was shipped off to prison for a year and banned from partaking in UFC fights and belt challenges for two years. Until now. The very first thing he did was challenge Inuyasha publicly, at a press conference following his release.
Inuyasha had all but mocked the man, claiming him to be washed up and fake. "You couldn't touch me with a ten-foot fucking pole, old man." he'd responded, when asked in an interview. Their rematch was expected and long awaited, the executives had practically planned it the second Naraku was KO'd.
But Naraku didn't want a clean fucking fight. He wanted to get Inuyasha at his lowest, make him feel all the emotions and suffering Naraku had suffered at his hands. Naraku wanted to watch him slowly spiral, humiliate him publicly. He wanted to squash any possibility of Inuyasha returning to his former glory once Naraku was done with him.
He'd be damned if he'd let him have a clean fight.
Naraku was out for blood.
Period.