by Dalia Wright
“I would love nothing more. Sit down on the couch and put your feet up. I’ll go whip something up for you really quick.”
He proceeded to empty his cabinets of materials, wondering what he should make next. He’d already cooked plenty of breakfast foods for her, and now he would need to focus on cooking something that was loaded with healthy vitamins and other nourishing factors. Suddenly it dawned on him. He should just make a soup. His mother had always been good at cooking, and she’d taught him how to make a chunky broth that was good for the heart during ailment. Just as he was boiling the water to place the vegetables in, there was a knock on the door.
“Now who’s here?” Ally asked.
“I don’t know,” Kazuma said. He was a bit nervous that it would be someone dangerous, perhaps Ally’s ex-boyfriend. He felt around in his pocket for his cellphone just in case he had to call the police. When he opened the door he saw a man standing there in sweatpants and a sweatshirt with the hood pulled low over his face.
“Can I speak to the dragon?” asked the hooded figure in front of him.
“Um,” Kazuma said, stepping out on the threshold and holding the door behind him. “My apologies. What message do you have for him?”
“A fight has been arranged by a mister John. He calls himself the hulk and he requires the dragon to meet him at the abandoned railroad arena exactly twenty-four hours from now. Will you accept this challenge?”
“I do,” Kazuma said. “What time will it begin?”
“Ten p.m. Sharp. I will alert my master of your acceptance and I will see you at the arena tomorrow.”
When Kazuma walked back inside he headed straight towards the couch.
“I can’t believe what just happened.”
“What? Who was at the door? When you walked outside I was so worried that something bad was going to happen to you.”
“John requested my presence for a fight tomorrow. And I accepted.”
“You what?” she exclaimed. “You’re supposed to be taking care of me. You can’t fight my ex-boyfriend, what if he injures you? What if one of his goons kills you? I’ll be left without you and I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She placed her face in her hands and started to cry, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. “Baby listen, that’s not going to happen. I’m never going to leave you. You have to believe me; I’m going to support you and your baby. If I win this fight I could win a lot of money. But I won’t do anything if you don’t feel completely comfortable with the situation.”
She didn’t say anything for a few minutes, merely stared at her hands, unsure of how to act. If Kazuma made the wrong move, she would lose him forever. But if he won this fight, then she would be rid of John forever. He would finally be beaten at his own game.
“Alright,” she said at last. “I connect.”
“Really? That’s great. The fight is tomorrow night at ten. I’ve got to train a bit in the morning to make sure I’m ready so I might not be here when you get back from work. But just know that I’m doing this for you and our child and that I would never willingly abandon you. Especially not at the hands of this John moron who calls himself the hulk. Who does he think he’s fooling?”
Ally burst out laughing. “That’s his fighting name? “The hulk?” what is wrong with this man? Don’t pay him any mind Kazuma, you’re going to win this fight. You’re the strongest man I know.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “Thank you baby, that’s all the support I need.”
Walking back over to the stove, Kazuma felt like he could do anything. Being with Ally boosted his confidence to levels so high he thought he’d never touch the ground again. He’d finally found another woman to be part of his team. After having been a lone wolf for so long, at last he found a place to call home. Was there anything more perfect in the world than when two beings found each other after having been lost for so long?
Checking up on the broth, he noticed the water was finally boiling. It was time to cut the vegetables and cook the slices of chicken. He’d purchased all-white meat a few days ago in the hopes of making Chinese food but cooking a thick soup was a much better idea. He needed something hearty and powerful to get him through the night and into the next day.
Ally had spoken a bit about John and his fighting capabilities but not at any length. Kazuma knew he was a fighter but he had no idea just how strong. John called himself the hulk, which made Kazuma laugh each time he thought of it.
“Why are you over there chuckling? Shouldn’t you be making my soup?” Ally asked.
“I’m just thinking about what a loser John is. I still can’t believe you were with him all those years. He’s scum, literal scum.”
“You’re telling me. One he tried to stub a cigarette out on my arm but one of his friends stopped him.”
“He what?”
Ally nodded gravely. She launched into a story about the time John was too drunk around a campfire and had needed a place to toss his cigarette. He’d been worried it would light a fire on the grass and that he would go to jail for arson. One of his goons suggested Ally’s arm and John was drunk enough that he actually thought it was a good idea. It took three people to yank him off Ally, who had been pushed to the ground in all the chaos. He’d had her pinned with one hand, the still-lit cigarette glowing red in the other. It had been a truly terrifying moment for her and she’d been fearful of fire ever since.
“I’m going to murder him,” Kazuma said under his breath.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing baby, don’t you worry about a thing. I’m going to win tomorrow and when I get home we can start thinking about baby names.”
“What do you mean when I get home? I’m coming with you, aren’t I?”
“You really want to come with me to a fight like this? It won’t be in a traditional arena or gym. Things could get pretty messy or dangerous. We’re talking working out in the elements here. The only rule is that if one of us is unconscious the other wins the battle by default. Most of these things have medics on the set, because we fight like thugs and can’t afford the hospital bill. I just want you to know what you’d be getting yourself into.”
“I would gladly go to support the man I love.”
She hadn’t realized she’d said love until Kazuma turned around, his cheeks a bright red color.
“You what?”
“Oh my god, did I say that? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—“
“I love you too,” he said.
They smiled at each other for a few seconds until Kazuma realized he had to get back to the soup. Ally told him she was tired and that she wanted to take a nap on the couch until dinner was ready. He promised her it would be ready soon and that he just needed to cook the chicken a little bit longer.
Ally had trouble getting to sleep. She was restless and wanted it to be fight day already. She lay on the couch with her hands over her eyes, thinking about what might happen. There was a chance that Macy would be there, cheering John on in a white t-shirt and skinny jeans. The more she thought about it the more she realized it had been obvious that John was cheating on her. Those long hours he pulled in the streets weren’t just for fighting or dealing drugs. He was most likely over at Macy’s place, eating her out while thinking about what an idiot Ally was for trusting him.
But Ally wasn’t an idiot anymore. She was strong, and growing every day. Being with Kazuma made her realize how stagnant she’d been. After abandoning college, it was as if Ally had been floating in an endless sea of possibilities. There was the possibility of marrying rich, or the possibility of dying young. There was also a chance she would find a steady job and work nine to five to put bread on the table for her. But none of those things happened. She fell in with a bad crowd, which started her spiral out of control.
When things were especially bad, or when Ally was feeling especially negative, she would soak in the tub for hours reflecting on her life choices. Those were the days she missed, sitting in that cheap claw-foot b
ath in John’s house. The scent of vanilla still lingered in her nose, even though the house she currently resided in was filled with the scent of scallions and beets. When she and Kazuma moved to a bigger place for the baby, they would definitely need to get a claw-footed bath.
Before she knew it, she’d fallen asleep and Kazuma was shaking her awake.
“Mmm,” she mumbled, turning around. “One more minute. The alarm hasn’t gone off yet.”
“The soup’s ready. You better eat while you still have an appetite, I heard morning sickness is a real bitch.”
“You’re right, I’m starving.” She sat straight up on the couch, ready to consume three bowls of soup. Kazuma placed a steaming purple bowl in front of her. Ally marveled at how it was filed to the brim with fat noodles, thin slices of chicken, and diced vegetables.
“This looks and smells incredible,” she said.
He sat down next to her with his own bowl, which was filled with a few more spices than hers.
“Thank you,” he beamed.
They ate together in silence, enjoying the quiet of one another’s company. Pretty soon their world would be turned upside down by the fight that was to occur the very next evening. But in that singular moment, neither Ally nor Kazuma felt stressed about the future. They both knew that whatever happened, they would face any situation together. As long as they remained a strong team they would be able to overcome any obstacle. Her love for him had grown in leaps and bounds since first arriving on his doorstep. Kazuma felt the same, though he was still confused as to how this all happened. It had been an utter coincidence; a mere chance that he’d cared enough to follow Ally’s screams of agony. Any normal pedestrian would have ignored her. But Kazuma didn’t. And because of that, he was her hero.
Chapter 8
On the eve of the great fight against John, Ally found herself panicking for Kazuma’s well being. She knew he was going to be fine in the end, but all the cuts and bruises he would have to endure? That didn’t seem worth it.
Ally remained quiet on the car ride to the railroad tracks. She didn’t want to ask Kazuma what would happen if he lost. None of his regular fans were going to be there as the fight was last minute and hardly anyone knew about it. Luckily some of his friends would be there—like Ronnie and the others—and this made Ally feel slightly better. If Kazuma were knocked out, they would at least help her to carry his body into the car so she could drive it to the hospital. Now that she was working full time at the liquor store, she had enough for medical health insurance.
When they got to the location the first thing Ally noticed was fire. There were large flames in the distance, illuminating the trees like dangerous candles and casting an eerie glow all over everyone’s faces.
“Promise you’re going to be okay,” she said.
“Ally you’ve already made me promise five times today.”
“I know but promise me again. I need to make sure that you know what you’re doing. You say you go to the gym a lot, and I know you’ve got meat on your bones, but John is ruthless. He’ll kill you without giving it a second thought.”
“He’ll try to kill me without giving it a second thought which is exactly why he’s going to lose. When people underestimate me they get stitches.”
Ally snorted. “You sound silly. But it makes me feel better to say that.”
Kazuma smiled and rubbed her leg protectively. He was wearing his signature sweatshirt, which had an enormous white dragon on the back. His shoes were black, as were his pants. It wasn’t good for to wear white to a match—only rookies wore white. It showed just how much blood one had lost, and the material also stained quicker.
To his surprise, Kazuma saw John wearing lime green sweats and a white shirt. He looked like the hulk alright, if the hulk had lost forty pounds due to an eating disorder. All Kazuma wanted to do was laugh in his face. This was the man Ally was so afraid of? He understood why she was afraid for her own safety, but Kazuma would have no problem beating him.
The second he exited his car there were cheers from the crowd. They were standing in a circle around the railroad tracks, drinking beers and eating hotdogs. For some this was a regular event, and the only time they were able to escape from the monotony of everyday life. For others it was a dream they could never achieve. They’d fought in high school on the wrestling team but had dropped out when it got too tough. Those men came here to live out their decayed dreams. Kazuma was here because he’d learned to fight like it was an art style. He was a martial artist and every aspect of his craft had to do with the mind-body dichotomy. Every match he won propelled him all the more closer to understanding that he truly was.
When he entered the man-made ring, John laughed at him.
“This is who I gotta fight? Ladies and gentlemen, does he look like a fighter to you? Why don’t you go home and cry to your mother? I’m sure she’d cook soup for you and dry your tears.”
Kazuma dropped his sweatshirt to the ground, revealing his muscles. Ally walked over to Ronnie and the others, feeling protected by their presence.
“When does it start?” she asked.
“The minute the first insult is thrown,” responded one of the guys.
“My mother’s dead you asshole,” she heard Kazuma say. He ran towards John and roundhouse kicked him straight in the face.
“Is that all you got?” John asked, spitting blood onto the ground.
“Put your hands up and fight,” Kazuma said. “Or do you not know how?”
John threw a punch but Kazuma was too quick. He jumped to the side and clocked John in the jaw. This time John took the full blow, and crouched down to his knees, blood dripping puddles on the ground.
“Get up,” Kazuma said. “You know the rules. Or do you forfeit?”
John stood up and attacked Kazuma, heading straight for his gut. He knocked him onto the railroad tracks, causing Kazuma to hit his back in the process. The wind was momentarily knocked out of his lungs and he lay there defenseless as John pummeled his fists into his stomach. From the sidelines he heard someone screaming—a woman.
“Kazuma get up!” she shrieked.
It was Ally’s voice, and she was distressed. All Kazuma could think about was the first night they met, when he’d heard her crying halfway across the street. He’d come to her aid then and he would come to her aid now. No, he would come to her rescue. The second he was able to breathe again he kicked John off the tracks and onto his back. Delivering the last blow, Kazuma hit him in the side of the head. It wasn’t enough to debilitate John, but it was enough to subdue him.
John lay on the ground, his eyes rolling in circles. There was a loud ringing noise in his ear.
The man keeping score rushed over and started the countdown. When he finally reached one, John didn’t stand up.
“Kazuma wins!” he shouted and the crowd erupted into cheers. Kazuma himself couldn’t believe it. The fight had been over before he knew it and suddenly Ally was there, wrapping her arms and tear-soaked face around his torso.
“Let’s go home,” she whispered.
Kazuma kissed the top of her head and whispered that he loved her.
“I love you too baby. But if you ever lose a fight, so help me god, I’ll kill you.”
He chuckled and wrapped his arm all the more tighter around er.
“Don’t worry. With you by my side, I’ll never lose a match.”
Together they walked back to the car, Kazuma limping from John pushing him onto the tracks and Ally crying quietly out of happiness. They were broken people hat had fused together to become whole and as a result they created new life. They were caught in the ring of fiery love, and it burned because of them all the brighter.
***The End***
To Love a Wounded Soldier
By: Stephanie Hunt
CHAPTER ONE:
The early morning sky was tinged in hues of gold and pink as the sun rose over the horizon. Delphine Delacroix stood in front of the window in the small bedroom she sh
ared with her younger sister Marie, relishing the few precious moments of peace and quiet. Soon enough everyone would be awake and the ceaseless, exhausting flurry of activity would begin. The endless fields tinged with frost rolling before her sparkled and shone in the sun. Everything looked so serene and peaceful it was hard to imagine the country was at war, had been at war for over a decade. But the perpetual hungry ache in her stomach was a stark reminder of their poor conditions. She couldn’t recall a time in her life when she hadn’t been hungry.
Every bit of food farmed on their lands were collected by Napoleon’s men for the French army, leaving the farmers with barely enough to feed their own families. Most nights Delphine and her parents went to bed hungry in order to leave enough food for the three younger children. Delphine found it hard at times to feel patriotic when they never saw the fruits of their labor but she comforted herself with the knowledge that their endeavors were keeping the brave soldiers fighting for their country alive.
From dawn till dusk everyone worked their fingers to the bone, over the years most of the men had left to join as soldiers so all the work fell on the women, the children and the elderly. But even so Delphine knew they were one of the lucky ones, tucked away in a remote corner of the French countryside the harsh realities of the Napoleonic Wars hadn’t touched them quite as badly as other cities and villages where armies trampled through, destroying everything on sight and people lay dying while the streets ran red with their blood.
She sent up a silent prayer towards the sky asking God to put a swift end to this madness. She continued to ask for the same thing every morning year after year, hoping the day would come soon when their lives would go back to normal.
Except hers wouldn’t.
Not really. In a few short months her life was about to change completely.
She looked over at the twin sized bed she shared with Marie and smiled, the younger girl was curled up in a ball, sound asleep, the blankets pulled snugly around her boyish body. Her dark hair so like Delphine’s hung over her shoulder loosely tied in a braid. The two sisters were three years apart in age but looked nearly identical with their wide blue eyes, dark hair and rosebud lips. Marie was a good head shorter and slightly plumper than the tall slender Delphine but both were great beauties. They had inherited the elegant carriage of their French father and the rosy beauty of their English mother.