Does he need to adhere to any laws or restraints?
"You're fucking with me," the hoodied man sounded angry. He sat down on a small stool in the middle of the gym and put his right foot on top of his left knee. "You want to learn how to fight in seven days? Are you mentally challenged? That's just impossible."
"I just need the basics," I looked at the hoodie man with caution. He had this threatening air around him like he could knock you out in just one -- too fast to see -- hit. "I'm willing to pay for it." I took out my wallet and looked at what I had then and there. I could give him all I had at once.
I had roughly 100 bucks worth of yen in my wallet. He looked at the cash and slowly raised his eyes to meet mine. There was a hint of annoyance in his gaze.
"Fine. I'm not that expensive, that's around enough for a few months' worth of training," he took the money and put it inside his wallet. "You said you wanted to learn to fight in seven days right? One hour a day isn't enough to do that."
"I've got all the time in the 7 days." I wasn't going to school, I didn't have any hobbies. This was really the only thing Ikari Shinji had going on now.
"Alright, that's perfect. We'll start right now," he took off his hood and showed his moppy brown seaweed hair. Under his hood, he wore a black tank top which showed his overwhelmingly athletic body.
"Great, so what's warm-up?" I got ready, taking off the buttoned shirt I was wearing. The hoodie-wearing teacher grabbed my fists and wrapped bandages around them quickly.
"Alright, get in the ring," the teacher went through the ropes and hopped in place, "Well? We don't have all day!"
"I mean..."
"Not if you want to get good at this fast."
That was a good enough reason. I went inside the ring and looked around. "So--"
Something hit my face. The uncomfortable burning sensation and blunt force striking my nose pushed me back and had me falling down. "Keep your hands up during a fight, and don't fall down." He sat on my torso and punched me twice on the nose again.
There was a tingling and stinging sensation that came from my nose. The burning pain was still there, and I could feel warm liquid fall from it.
"I'll give you a warning now. These seven days will be like this the entire time. If you want to quit, do so now. I won't let you quit after this."
I rolled to my back, then weakly pushed myself off the ground. I felt like a piece of jelly in the strongest of winds. I touched my nose -- big mistake. The burning pain came back. I winced and breathed through my teeth.
"Well? Are you giving up now? Or will you keep going?" His question was straightforward. A part of me wanted to run away from this psychopath, the other knew that I'd go through much worse if I didn't learn anything from him at all. Against my much better judgment, I raised my fists. "You've signed up for hell. Get ready."
***
Being beaten mercilessly wasn't exactly my definition of fun. My teacher -- named Tokita -- beat me hard enough to bruise, but not enough to break my bones. After class, he forced me to take an ice bath.
I was tossed around with minimal effort, knocked out at least three times, and bruised more times than my fragile -- shaking -- brain could count. For hours we kept training.
"Here we go..." I looked at the building the very next day. I walked inside and Tokita was already ready for our next lesson.
"Get your bandages on, we're sparing until night again," Tokita waited in the middle of the ring. He was very eccentric, and his method of teaching was too practical. I put the bandages on as well as I could and went inside the ring.
"What are we learning today?" I asked enthusiastically. Tokita looked at me and smiled without comment he raised his fists and lowered his stance. That meant one thing, he wasn't learning anything, and I was the only one getting taught. The subject of today's class: pain.
He dashed at great speeds and punched me with a straight, I blocked, but it felt like I was getting hit with a hammer. I jumped away and let my back rest against the ropes while I winced about my forearms.
"That's what you're learning today... well, kind of. The form I just showed you is part of my least-liked kata of this martial art. So I'll be showing you how to use that first so we can focus on what I'm best at later. I feel like the other Katas would fit you more than this one."
That's what he said, but really it felt like he was just beating me up for no real reason. He'd punch me and explain how the technique worked, then force me to fight again. We rested very rarely as he taught me.
I couldn't even touch him once, he was so fast, and any time I got close he'd simply flick his wrist and somehow throw me in the air.
"Today you're sleeping here," Tokita unwrapped the bandages around his fist and sat down on the stool.
"Huh?" I stared at him like he was crazy. "What'd you say?" My gamer instincts were telling me to throw a colorful array of insults his way for that idea.
"We need to use as much time as we can to get you in shape. You said you'd be leaving for Tokyo-3 in six days right?" He stared at me with his indifferent and intense gaze. "There's a shower, a fridge, and a microwave." I was about to ask about sleeping accommodations, but he was one step ahead.
He tossed a futon in front of me and then prepared another. "When are we getting up exactly?"
"Oh, that's the funny thing," Tokita tapped his pillow and smiled while slowly tucking himself, "You don't get to know."