Should Riku be here in a fight club? Not in a million years. It's not the first time he's come and it probably won't be the last. More than anything, he just wants to keep sharp. Sparring can do some good, but there's something unpredictable and raw about the fights he gets here.

"Raw" never meant "biting" but he tastes the blood in his mouth.

Riku wipes it away, looking at the dark red splotch on the back of his hand.

"Can't keep your mouth to yourself? I didn't come here to feed anyone." His steps are careful, like he doesn't want to be caught unawares again.