As he charged in again, he flexed the muscles in his arms, preparing for a blow he chose with the intent of "ending this fight."
"Heavenly Daigo Style:--"
They stared each other down before Yusei suddenly smiled, holding his arms up, "Alright, that's enough."
"Huh?"
Yusei laughed, "I was just testing you."
His expression shifted to annoyance as he lowered his fists, "...Testing me? You couldn't just tell me that from the start?"
"Well…" Yusei walked over to him, rolling his sleeves down as his forearms were steaming from the impact of the blocked attack, "...The sharpness of your attacks wouldn't be shown if you thought it was simply a test, right?"
"--"
"Sorry, but what's done is done," Yusei laughed, "You passed with flying colors, anyway."
Sighing out, he looked at the skull-tattooed man, who sat down on the parkside bench with a satisfied smile.
"Is this all you called me out here for?" He asked.
"Just part of it," Yusei replied.
'I'm listening."
Yusei looked at him as if signaling for him to sit beside him, but he opted to stay standing, watching the Overseer intently.
"Alright, alright," Yusei laughed, "You brought your ticket, right?"
He answered by taking out the black slip and showing it to the man, "Yeah."
"Good. Carry that with you at all times. Always make sure you know where it is," Yusei told him.
"I'm not a kid. I can take care of a piece of paper," he said.
"That's not the problem," Yusei responded.
He was a bit confused at what the man was getting at, looking at him with a slight tilt of his head now before staring at the black ticket.
Yusei looked at the ticket as well, "There's something I neglected to explain before–it's about the nature of this tournament."
"What is it?"
"The Celestial Fist is all about deciding who is "The Strongest In The World"; there are rules and regulations of course, but…they're more of a suggestion. If you're strong enough, the rules are shaped according to your will," Yusei told him.
"--"
With the red-leaved trees looming over them in the star-filled night, the Overseer was more serious than ever with his words.
"That ticket isn't exclusive to the person holding it," Yusei said, "--Rather, whoever is holding it is permitted to join the qualifiers. Do you get what I'm saying?"
"...I think so," he replied.
"If somebody were to take that slip from you, they would be allowed entrance into the Celestial Fist. Not you. There is no replacing that thing, either. That's why I'm telling you to keep that ticket close to you like it's a family heirloom," Yusei advised.
"Heh…" He laughed quietly.
Yusei looked up in surprise, noticing a smile that naturally stretched across the lips of the golden-eyed young man.
"I wasn't aware there was something funny about this," Yusei smiled, "What is it?"
"Let them come."
"--?" Yusei looked at him.
"If somebody wants to take this from me, I'm right here. I'll gladly accept anybody's challenge–anytime, anywhere," he smirked.
The Overseer couldn't help but increase his own smile at the sight of the young man's excitement.
Boss, I think you won't be disappointed by the person you chose this year…Yusei thought.
Yusei stood up, "Well, that's all I needed to talk about. Tomorrow morning will mark five days away–are you ready?"
"Yeah," he nodded, "Thanks for the warmup."
–
During the next five days, he continued his training; using Chimon's gym, the rigorous training he put his body through had maintained his sharpness leading up to the eventful day.
He didn't skip out on his shifts working at the cafe, in fact, he found a way to incorporate it into his training:
Balancing a variety of tasks at once kept his mind going, always considering options. To him, this mimicked what he called the "Fist Zone"--a way of thinking of multiple scenarios, studying each possible action that could be taken against him and how he would counter such tasks.
Handling a plethora of customer orders at once, he kept his mind occupied and sharp.
[Two Nights Before The Qualifiers]
"Touma, I hate to ask this of you since you're so busy, but can you run to the store for me? We've run out of milk–I'll cover the costs," Mr. Genji asked him.
It was in the middle of peak hours, so running out of milk–a key ingredient of coffee–was a no-go, so he nodded with a smile.
"Of course! Leave it to me," he said.
"Thank you," Mr. Genji gently smiled.
As he left the cafe, only taking off his apron while still dressed in his barista uniform with his sleeves rolled up, he headed down the block towards the nearest store.
While walking down the street, somebody called out to him.
"Yo, Touma Daigo! It's the 'King of Brawling'!"
It wasn't somebody he knew, but a total stranger. This wasn't the first time recently this had happened, but he was still adjusting to it, waving back with a nervous smile.
I guess I've been becoming more famous lately. Yusei is to blame for this, he thought.
Fame wasn't something he was particularly against, but he also preferred to stay a bit on the low.
I just hope this doesn't cause trouble for the cafe, he thought.
Entering the automatic opening doors of the store, greeted with a welcoming chime, he immediately set his sights towards the section of the store that contained dairy products.
"Bingo," he mumbled.
Grabbing a couple containers of milk, he headed to the front, pulling out his wallet before–
"Oh, don't worry about the payment."
The cashier told him with a smile, stopping him from taking the money out of his wallet.
He looked up at the man, who looked just a couple years his senior–a clear "gyaru-oh"; dyed blonde hair and piercings on his ears and lips.
"Huh?"
"You're Touma Daigo, right? There's no way you can mistake those golden eyes!" The cashier said, "It's on the house, don't worry!"
"Why?" He asked, perplexed.
The young cashier smiled, "Dude! You're a TOTAL legend around here. You're fighting for Kamagasaki out there–I'd be pretty damn embarrassed if I made you pay! C'mon! It's free of charge."
He was still a bit confused, but he smiled and accepted it, taking the milk with a nod, "Thanks!"
"Kick some ass out there!" The cashier said as he left.
Leaving the store with his milk in hand, he felt good about the unique encounter, but mostly one aspect about it:
Saved me a few bucks, he thought.