@despairforme answered:
There was more blood than usual tonight. Nnoitra LOVED when things got bloody, as did the crowd. They especially loved it when HIS fights got bloody. He was known for having, on average, pretty short fights, because he always demolished his opponents within the first minute or so. Fighting wasn’t like what you saw in movies, where people could take hit after hit and still keep going. In REAL LIFE, all it took was one proper aimed hit, and the other guy wouldn’t be getting up. This time, the fight had lasted longer than usual, and yeah - that meant more blood. Of course, Nnoitra had walked out victorious, as he always did, but for once, he had received some punches himself.
They had a medic among their staff now. Something they had had to add as a direct result of how dangerous it was to fight Nnoitra. The club’s activities was already borderline-illegal, but at least having a medic on-site made it less questionable. Nnoitra hadn’t received treatment from her before now though.
She was cute. Real feminine, and looked out of place here. With that pink hair and gentle eyes. She didn’t belong, that was for sure. Nnoitra was holding out his hand for her to treat. His knuckles had gotten torn BADLY. It had been a while, and apparently, she thought it best to stitch him up. Pretty futile, Nnoitra thought. He would tear the stitches up tomorrow night anyway. ‘ Not your night? ‘, she asked. Nnoitra arched his brow.
❝ I still won. Ain’t my fault ‘da guy wouldn’t stay down. ❞ Repeated punches was what had torn his knuckles. ❝ Mah, my knuckles are already scarred as hell. ❞ He held up his other hand to show her. Nnoitra’s hands were pale and bony, and also very large. His long fingers were slightly pink right now from the adrenaline still rushing through him. His knuckles, on both hands, were white and pink, scarred far, far beyond ever healing properly. Normally he would use gloves and protective tape to not break his fingers, but of course, tonight he had both ran out of tape AND forgotten his gloves. It was all due to moving out of his apartment. The change in routine was fucking with him. ❝ Been ages since someone stitched me up. Do I need ‘ta take it easy ‘fer a few days now or wha’? ❞ It was a joke, of course. He wasn’t going to ‘ take it easy ‘. /
It wasn’t too long ago when Sakura started working for the fighting ring Nnoitra is in. If she had a choice, she wouldn’t be here. All this time her motivation for studying medicine comes from a place of love and understanding. Fulfilling her dream of having a place with lesser sick people around, a doctor using expertise to care for the dying, even the less-fortunate.
A noble dream, or one laced with so much naivety. Even so, there is so much more she could’ve done with her degree than stitching someone so they are well enough to go on another rampage.
“ Ideally -- yes. I’d recommend taking it easy so the wound heals nicely. I’d admit your injuries weren’t that bad considering you didn’t wear any protection at all, “ a quick glance over Nnoitra’s other hand seeing the markings of varying shapes and sizes enough for her to know he didn’t mean anything he said. Nnoitra is not the only one, the other fighters do, too. And it is while she is in this train of thoughts Sakura is reminded of another fighter, a novice. The fire raging in the fighter’s eyes that night an epitome of a person desperate to win regardless if the wounds she stitched up ( for him ) just a few minutes ago hasn’t even stopped bleeding.
“ Well, that’s how this sport works, right? I guess everyone wants that prize money. I can’t blame them, though -- it is a lot. “
There is bitterness in her mouth after letting the words out. If she thinks about it, she is like that novice fighter, too. Trading her oath to save lives in the best of her abilities in exchange for the hefty pay of becoming a ringside medic.
“ You’re right, it is the first time we meet, “ a small and gentle smile makes its way across her face. There is no need for hostility. Albeit his imposing posture ( and choice of words ), he is still her patient, “ I’m Sakura. And you are Nnoitra, right? “
Everybody knows who he is -- from the executives to the old man closing the gates after every night of fighting. It is not only the difference in his physical appearance commanding other people’s attention to him, “ Even after that, you are still the title holder. I’ve been told you haven’t lost a single fight since starting here, is that true? “
