Instead of heading to the bleachers, Riba was led to the infirmary to have his wounds tended to. Upon his return, he was praised by Gareth who patted him on the back. Korra stared him down as he took a seat.
"Yes?" He asked, not able to take her staring anymore.
"How'd you do that...?" She asked, her eyes narrowing
"Do what?"
THAT. No one gets as good as you THAT fast. Especially you."
"Um..."
"Are you training with someone? A teacher?"
"What? No!"
"You don't belong here. Just cause you learned some fancy moves doesn't mean you're the best. So don' t get cocky and stay OUT of my way. Loser."
And with that, she swiveled back to face the arena, watching the raging battle between two random students sustain. Why did she hate him so much? There had to be a valid reason. The dueling crept on like the grey mists upon a mountain side, every fight the number of combatants left slowly dropping like leaves in autumn. From where Mr.Toruga sat, he could see Riba, and gave him two thumbs up. Riba smiled and did the same. Then, out of nowhere -
"RIBA CECIL VERSUS DORON PAYNE!"
Riba's heart dropped like a st one down through the deep sea. The second round had officially begun, and the next clash was theirs.
"Great..." Doron sighed from where he sat, oberving Riba who looked around nervously, "...it's him."
"No big deal Doron! He's a wimp remember? You beat the piss out of him last time!" Bolo chortled.
"Riba shouldn't be diminished. Did you see what he did during his fight? He's improved, so I'm not dropping my gaurd."
"R-Right..."
He grunted and rose, slowly tromping down the steps. Riba's heart was beating in his ears. All his other emotions had vanished, and all that remained was pure hatred. The hatred crawled under his skin and pumped fear into his veins, switching off any part of his mind that protested. Images of the relentless beating Doron administered to him flashed in his crumbling mind. He wasn;'t afraid this time. He was furious, enraged. Doron continued to walk, his footsteps echoing and making their way to Riba's ears that burned like molten jewels. Even hearing such a person's footsteps infuriated him. The images of the blows he recieved were so repetitive and vivid that it hurt. It hurt to think of it. Riba had never felt this way before. He didn't want to hate anyone. He never did hate anyone. Doron finally reached the center and waited with his arms crossed.
"Riba? You there?" Ms. Bayora called.
His fist shook in rage, he tried to move but was rooted in place like a strong plant.
'Come on Riba...move!' Mr. Toruga begged within his mind.
A soft, "tak" rang out. This sound resonated from the bottom of Riba's boots, that made their way down the stairs. He slowly descended to the center and waited with Doron. Everyone watched with anticipation. They both stanced themselves.
"You ready?" Doron grumbled.
"I'm going to tear you apart." Riba snapped back.
"Ready?! Begin!"