The whole next day sucked big time. I couldn’t stop thinking about this ridiculous plan of Emile’s. At work, I got distracted each time I saw Sato and began gathering complaints from guests I served. Luckily, Emile took care of it.
I didn’t want to go through with the plan, but Emile had me cornered this time. After we finished work we went to the station and took a train to the south part of Tokyo. We were supposed to wait for Sato in a secluded alley on his way home.
While waiting I felt my adrenalin rising. Not counting the few pub brawls back home when I was forced to intervene, it had been a long time since my last real fight. I had a bad feeling.
“You’ll be able to handle him, right?” Emile’s voice was muffled by a white surgical mask. I wore one too. We both had hoodies over our head and I put on sunglasses to hide my face as much as possible.
I nodded. Sato seemed sturdy enough and able to put up a fight against an average person, but I was quite certain he was no match for me.
Emile directed my attention to the opposite side of the alley. Sato had just entered the street and we began walking towards him. My fists clenched, and my head was full of thoughts. How much do I hurt the man? Will he scream? Will he fight back? I had never fought somebody, who didn’t fight back.
I was indecisive down to the very last moment when Emile purposely bumped into Sato, who in return shouted back at him something in Japanese. I jumped out and punched him in the face. Sato crashed against the wall, his glasses flying off his face. I went after him again, but he wrapped himself around my leg and pulled me down. His fists came raining down on me. I defended, his punches were not so strong, but he did surprise me with his move. I managed to push him away and we both stood up. My hood was down and I lost the sunglasses.
I now considered him more carefully. He did not fight like a boxer, his stance was a different one. He was something, though. I charged in, dodged the punch and grabbed at his body. Next thing I knew I flew to the ground and felt his weight on my body again. We wrestled for a while when I realized he was going for an arm lock. He was in a good position and if I didn’t get out fast, he could break my arm. I saw Emile moving around us nervously as we kept wrestling on the ground. With my arm still locked I smashed my other elbow into Sato’s face, which made him release his tight grip. I used the momentum to pull my hand out. I jumped up and gave a powerful soccer kick at his face. His head jerked backward and his body went limp.
I looked at Emile. His eyes wide and bulging, he stepped closer to Sato and administered a light kick at his body. Sato didn’t move.
“Shit!” I squatted down and checked him. He was still breathing. “We have to get him to the hospital, I might have caused him brain damage with that kick.”
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