I went to Tenko alone, K told me she’d meet me there. When I arrived, the place was already packed. The vibe was different somehow. Guests had an air of formal gaiety, which reflected in their self-restrained mannerism, soft, polite chatter, and their evening dress code. I was glad K had taken me shopping, casual clothes wouldn’t go down well this time.

The interior of the club had also changed, with red being the prevalent colour: a large curtain with red and white vertical stripes adorned the back of the stage, red cloths covered the tables and the counter, red carpets were placed over the floor. Waiters wriggled through the crowd carrying silver trays with champagne glasses or canapes. The setting evoked a festive mood.

I recognized some of the guests. James, the big man he was, was easy to spot. All dressed up in a tux and a bow tie he stood next to Yamada san, whose attire didn’t differ significantly from his daily suits.

Kentaro’s fighters were there, Yachi among them, looking his usual arrogant self. There were also other fighters from Fujiwara’s or other clans, recognizable as such due to their physique, bruises, or cauliflower ears.

Takahashi too was present; the sparkling red jewel on his golden tie pin visible from afar as he entertained a group of mostly female guests that gathered around him and giggled sporadically at whatever he said. I didn’t see Miyu among them, but I presumed if Takahashi attended the event, so did she. A slight nervousness seized me at the thought of meeting her.

With all these small, loose-knit groups I felt a bit like a lone fish in the pond, my stare drawn for most of the time toward the entrance.

When will K come?

I took a glass from the waiter’s tray and held it up in front of my face, watching the bubbles hopping and jumping to the surface. I decided to take a sip when a familiar figure appeared through the fuzzy texture of champagne and glass.

The sleek chin-length bob, the blue strands in the shiny black hair.

Finally.

I lowered the glass and watched her as she eased through the crowd, stopping a few times to greet the guests on her way. Once we made eye contact, she sped up her steps, limiting her greetings to polite bows.

The tiny folds on the pleated skirt of her dark-blue dress brushed against her legs just above her knees as if moved by a light breeze. A thin, lilac belt accentuated her narrow waist, her collar bones and slender white neck were left uncovered by the closely fitting, upper garment. Gracing the modestly exposed skin between her neck and the hem of the dress was the silver, flower-shaped pendant, she always wore.

My gaze didn’t waver from her once.

I was looking at a different K, one that dressed at the high-end boutiques like Miss Makino’s, one that in the exquisite dress, which I was now seeing for the first time, looked as refined and elegant as a member of a royal family. She greeted people with a courteous smile and walked with subtle grace and dignity in high-heeled shoes. I stared at her confused, questioning if it was all just an act she put on or was this the real her.

When she finally reached me she blew air through her pursed lips, her polite expression replaced by relief. A hint of disdain appeared in her eyes, her poise, though, remained.

My mouth kept curling up into a smile.

“What are you smiling about?”

“You look pretty, Yuki,” I said, feeling a nervous flutter in the pit of my stomach.

“Yuki? How cute you told him your name!”

I was so focused on K, I failed to perceive she wasn’t alone.

“S-Sunny? You’re here as well?”

Sunny nodded, her eyes like slits from smiling, her dimples showing.

“You look very nice too,” I added in a swift recovery, noticing an obvious similarity between hers and K’s outfit.

“Thank you, Nik san. You look dashing yourself.”

I smiled, feeling uncomfortably self-conscious. “I didn’t know this event is open for people outside Yamato.”

“I’m K’s plus one.”

“I see…so do I have a plus one too?” I asked K jokingly.

“Yes, you do.”

Her reply sounded a little too serious. “I do?”

Her stare shifted to my left. From the corner of my left eye, I caught sight of a darkly figure.

I clicked my tongue. Shit. My plus one was Shin. His pale face was without a mask, his eyes barely visible beneath a strand of his black hair. As expected, his clothes were all black, although still elegant enough for the occasion.

“So….the whole company is here,” I muttered, my voice betraying a slight disappointment.

K and Sunny engaged in their own chatter, leaving me to share an awkward silence with Shin.

“A lot of people here today,” I pointed out the obvious and cast a look around the club. “Those can’t be fighters, or proxies…Who do you think they are?” My gaze was directed at a group of older, well-dressed guests standing in the vicinity. “Probably sponsors, business partners maybe…” I answered to myself.

A red sparkly gown emerged into my view, fastening my eyes to its deep V cut, and sent my mind into an alert mode.

Miyu, accompanied by her friend Hana, walked by, a glass of champagne swaying in her hand. Her braids were tied up into a high bun and a sparkling tiara with red stones sat atop her head. Once she saw me her gaze flirtatiously settled upon me and a coquettish smile appeared on her lips.

“Nice jacket…hentai boy!” she called out to me, gathering the attention of everyone in my group, and then departed with a wink.

Stupefied I stared at her bare back as she continued towards the stage.

“Hentai boy?” K’s voice sounded very loud.

“Umm….heh, it’s just a stupid joke…” Feeling my face flush, I quickly made a sip from my glass.

“She’s so sexy,” Sunny remarked, her eyes still gazing after Miyu.

I felt K’s scrutiny. Her stare was heavy, her lips pressed tight as though to hold back words.

“Is she? What do you think, Shin?” I asked casually and took another, larger sip from my glass. Counting on Shin’s non-responsiveness, I hoped the topic would end here.

K snatched a glass from the tray of the waiter and took a swallow. Her immediate wince and the small size of the glass suggested a stronger drink than champagne. She leaned in and said sotto voce: “By the way, don’t call me Yuki. I’d prefer you call me K.” The word prefer was far too mild for the commanding tone of her request.

Her glass emptied, K started looking around, searching, I figured, for another waiter, when a sudden agitation spread among the crowd near the entrance. The epicentre of this commotion seemed to be the new guest that just arrived at the club.

“Is it Kai?” Sunny exclaimed, exchanging a conspiratorial look with K.

An excitement that puzzled me took hold of them.

“What’s going on?”

Shin’s silent scoff was the only feedback I received.

“Hey,” I tried again, tapping K on her shoulder. “Who’s coming? Is it the oyabun?”

“Nah….just the Sanada brothers.” Her obvious attempt to downplay her excitement pissed me off.

“Who the fuck are the Sanada brothers?”

My rough tone attracted the stares of both, Sunny and K.

“You don’t know Kai Sanada, Nik san? He’s the champion. Of your division actually--” Sunny hurried to say.

“Oh, you mean, the Kai Sanada? Yeah, sure, I’ve heard of him.” Now it was my time to play it cool.

If Miyu was the queen of the female MMA, Kai Sanada was the king in the men’s most popular division. His expeditious rise within Yamato and zero losses over the past two years made his name known also among the fighters in Europe. We were roughly the same age, yet he had already achieved what I was still only dreaming of.

Kai, making his way through the crowd, was coming straight toward us. Several people tried to stop him, eager to share a few words with him, but he politely dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Sunny kept nudging K’s shoulder with her own, they were giggling, shooting timid glances at approaching Kai like two school girls in the presence of their favourite idol.

He continued past us, oblivious to our existence, when, to my dismay, he came to a sudden halt, and returned.

“Yuki san?” His mouth spread in a wide smile, revealing dense, white teeth, his eyes moved up and down K’s body. K nodded, a coy smile on her lips, her fingers intertwined, twisting around each other. He continued speaking to her in Japanese, resting his hand on her shoulder all the while.

I watched their interaction, fighting the bitterness caused by the one word he said – Yuki. He called her Yuki and not K as every other person did so far. That alone was a source for my instant antipathy toward the man.

My image of Kai the fighter differed a great deal from the Kai I was witnessing now. He seemed to be this well-behaved, good-looking, ideal son-in-law type of a guy – nothing in his appearance or behaviour pointed to the vicious fighter he was.

His well-proportioned face, with a straight nose, slightly pronounced cheekbones, and a prominent jaw, was not merely handsome but had some royal splendour about it. His short, thick black hair was combed neatly and simply, giving him a sharp, professional look of a corporate CEO. He was soft-spoken, unpretentious, and his mannerism never exaggerated. Not counting the fancy-looking gold watch, which slipped out of his sleeve as he placed his hand on K’s shoulder, his attire was no fancier than mine, yet somehow he looked by far the best dressed person around. He was polite, had a charming smile and cheerful disposition, all that without even trying.

No wonder all the ladies in the crowd, young and old, acquired in his presence a silly, coy smile, and started giggling as he walked past them. While I’d expect he’d have such an effect on Sunny, who adored just about everyone, it came as a mild shock to me to see that K too seemed to have fallen for his charms.

K and Kai --- even their names had a similar ring to them. In my mind, they already formed a perfect couple.

His hand finally left her shoulder and Kai’s gaze flickered from K to me as my name came up in their conversation. K spoke of me without switching to English or averting her stare from Kai, making me feel like a piece of meat on the market, talked about and appraised.

Another man joined Kai and instantly drew K’s attention. A short, quiet stare-down ensued between them, the intensity of it matching two fighters in the ring.

“Ryu,” K said, her voice low, almost menacing.

The man answered only with a condescending smirk, his dark eyes shining with a sinister glow.

There was an undeniable physical similarity between him and Kai, although this man was by no means the perfect son-in-law type. He was a bit shorter, his body sturdier. His black thick hair was cut short and unkempt, his face rougher than Kai’s and his eyes always slightly closed.

If Kai was a crowd-pleaser this dude, most definitely wasn’t. Despise and elitism permeated him from head to toe. He had none of Kai’s cheerful and kind disposition: he seemed unapproachable and broody. There was a mark on his face -- his left cheek bore a scar that ran diagonally from the corner of his left eye toward the edge of his lips. It was an old, healed scar but still very visible on the pale skin of the man’s face.

The quiet power game between him and K caused an uncomfortable silence among us.

Kai decided to intervene by addressing me: “So I hear you’re Yuki’s fighter?”

It took a shoulder nudge from me for K to break away from that man and realize her lack of courtesy. “Umm…Nik san, this is Sanada san, the current champion and possibly the best fighter Yamato Damashi ever had.”

“Please, Yuki…” Kai dropped his stare to the ground, looking embarrassed. ”It’s an exaggeration.”

A humble mother fucker too.

“Hajimemashite, Nik san, I’m pleased to meet you,” he said with a bow. “Looks like you and I could be in the same weight category. Who knows, perhaps one day we might meet in the ring.”

He said it with a patronizing tone of an adult promising an ice cream to a child if he behaved well.

“Sure, whenever you feel up to it.” My smug, confident tone earned me a surprised frown from K and a second look from Kai. A spark of interest lit in his eyes, for a brief moment only, then his face soften again into a broad smile.

“Huh…omoshiroi.” It was the other guy that spoke, his low, husky voice unnervingly calm.

“And you are?”

No answer came from his mouth, his half-closed eyes continued to gaze at me.

Kai said something but challenged by the man’s unwavering stare, I barely heard him.

What the fuck does he want?

All of a sudden, my stomach cramped and my body stiffened from all sides. My breath became short and quick and I felt pressure between my eyes. The air became oppressive and unbearably stuffy. I started to feel dizzy, sweat trickled down my temples and over my back, my legs weakened.

I forced myself to look away at the crowd that suddenly became a vague, indiscernible mass of people. Straining my eyes I tried to make out faces, but the only face that stuck out with chilling clearness was that of Takahashi. Standing in profile he glanced at me from the corner of his eye and grinned.

To the left, there was Yamada, his stoic face turned in my direction, the surface of his spectacles reflecting the lights in the club. With another turn of my head, I saw, with incomprehensible clarity the face of another man, whom I didn’t know. His head tilted to the side he watched me with a devious smirk on his lips.

What the fuck is happening…

I grabbed the collar of my shirt, my arms heavy as if made of iron, and tried loosening it. Wherever I look I saw only those faces, they were watching me, their stares probing.

I kept pulling at my collar, my body stiffening from the inside, the pressure between my eyes intensifying.

Somebody stepped in front of me.

I found myself staring down, at the nape of K’s white neck.

“Yamete, Ryu…” I heard her say.

The air came back, the stiffness dissipated, my breathing returned to normal. I saw Kai’s wide smile, and became aware of his words: “Well, I can’t wait to see the kind of fighter Yuki san will make of you.”

I managed an unsure smile and a nod. The other man chuckled. “Jaa mata ne…” he said in the most condescending tone and departed. At the same time, musicians started coming onto the stage.

“Well, it seems it’s about to start,” Kai said, shrugging apologetically. “Yuki san, was great to see you. Come find me later, we can chat some more. Nik san…” He gave me a quick nod and tapped K on the shoulder.

I watched him leave, finally.

K had again that stupid smile on her face and immediately after Kai left she and Sunny stuck their heads together and began whispering and giggling.

What the fuck was going on here? Who was this K all of a sudden?

“K likes Kai,” Sunny teased.

“Huh, who doesn’t like Kai?” K retorted.

I don’t.

“What’s up with that other dude? He looked weird as fuck.”

A loud scoff came from Shin.

“Ryu Sanada? He’s Kai’s older brother. And his proxy. He’s intimidating, isn’t he?” Sunny replied.

“I wouldn’t say intimidating,” I protested. Another scoff from Shin. This time I shot him a glare.

“Ryu san is the brains behind Kai’s fighting. Kai finishes all his fights in the first round. He finds his opponent’s weakness and breaks him down, but it’s all according to Ryu’s instructions. That’s what K thinks. Right, K?”

K’s face darkened, a deep frown appeared between her eyes. “Kai wouldn’t be the fighter he is without his brother.” Her voice was sulky as if she was forced to utter these words.

“But don’t worry, Nik san, K is more intelligent, even than Ryu san.”

I snorted and shrugged. “I’m not worried…this Kai looks like some mama’s---“

“Don’t let Kai’s kind appearance fool you. When in the ring he’s a different person,” K interjected, her voice sounding angry. “And you shouldn’t have talked to him like that…you’re nowhere near his level.”

“Thanks, K, it’s always great to hear how little faith you have in me.”

“It’s not about that, I’m just being realistic.”

“Right.”

“Yeah, right.”

This storm of sharp exchanges came to a sudden end. We both pulled our glares away from each other, I directed mine at the stage, my teeth clenched. Even Sunny didn’t dare to mediate this time.

The one thing I was now sure of was that all the proxies were self-righteous, pompous, self-centered assholes.

Ela walked on the stage wearing a stunning silky, yellow gown, which, with a wide golden sash and long, swinging sleeves looked like a modern version of a kimono. As soon as she took the microphone in her hand, the chatter of the crowd died down.

She closed her eyes and raised the mic toward her mouth, but didn’t start singing yet, nor did the musicians begin to play. Everyone held their breath in expectation of the song. James stood right below the stage, his head tilted slightly back as he stared up at Ela.

A slow tune of a flute came first, followed by a synthesizer, a sound of a distant trumpet joined, and then Ela began singing a song in Japanese.

While the meaning of the song’s lyrics evaded me, its melody and Ela’s singing were enough to convey an emotion that touched the souls of everybody in the club. Her velvety, delicate voice was mesmerizing. Like snow under the sun, my feelings of anger were melting away at the beautiful melody. I could have listened to that song for hours.

Something stirred in me and I found myself looking at K. Her head was pressed close to Sunny, who was whispering something in her ear. Whatever was said led K to look in a certain direction. I followed her stare – she was staring at the Sanada brothers. Her gaze remained on them as the song went on.

I cringed and looked away.

You’re an idiot, Nik…

You’re such an idiot, what were you thinking…you’re a nobody.

My eyes wandered around with no purpose, looking everywhere and everyone as long as it wasn’t K. For a brief moment I closed them, seeking solace in Ela’s song, but quickly became annoyed at myself for getting so carried away by some stupid emotions.

In stubborn pride, I cast an indignant gaze toward the stage, and then, there in the back, by the red and white curtain, left of the synth… there… I saw an angel.