Ship: Yugure Yuhi/Utatane Yasumi from The Many Sides of Voice Actor Radio Word Count: 431
Sato takes a seat on the bench and stares up at the poster written into the wall with magic.
YUGURE YUHI V. UTATANE YASUMI, Final Round of The Magical Gladiator Tournament. She notices the way her name is written in font two sizes smaller, the colors of her letters a little more faded. The odds are stacked against her before it’s even begun and she swallows past the bitter taste in her mouth.
She faced Yugure Yuhi once at the beginning of the year in a practice match. It was a stomp of course, she got absolutely smoked with nothing but a line of bruises and an embarrassing record to show for it. And isn’t that a testament to how their futures are destined to play out?
She’s a ticking time bomb who’s almost reached the end of her fuse. Three years dedicated to this craft and little to show for it–if she doesn’t make a splash with this match, her career is set to end here.
Yugure Yuhi, on the other hand, is a newborn star. She crashed into this industry less than a year ago and she’s swept up twice as many victories as Sato has in her lifetime.
Kagisaki’s watching her brood, counting out the seconds with her pointer finger.
“You’re getting caught up in your own head again,” she says, pulling her wand out from her pocket.
“I know,” Sato mumbles. She tries to ease the tension that’s settled on her limbs with a laugh but it comes out strangled and garbled instead.
“You’re a good fighter,” Kagisaki says, patting her head and it’s the closest she’ll get to encouragement from her. “You’re a good kid. Keep your head up and trust your practice.”
Sato nods and Kagisaki hands her wand over to her. She takes it, studying the chips and patterns carved into the handle.
She bound it with her blood–it was the best way to get it to stick. Sato stares at three years of hard work, of blood, sweat and tears twisted into the wood and wonders if it can hold a candle against raw talent.
What does it matter if it can–she has no choice but to give it everything she has. To feed her time and passion and life and soul into this sport and hopes that it burns bright enough to leave a mark.
Sato spells her hair up out of her face and pushes herself up off the bench.
“Give ‘em hell out there,” Kagisaki says, holding her fist up into the air.
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FILL: Team Kittyuri
Date: 2024-08-03 07:58 pm (UTC)Word Count: 431
Sato takes a seat on the bench and stares up at the poster written into the wall with magic.
YUGURE YUHI V. UTATANE YASUMI, Final Round of The Magical Gladiator Tournament. She notices the way her name is written in font two sizes smaller, the colors of her letters a little more faded. The odds are stacked against her before it’s even begun and she swallows past the bitter taste in her mouth.
She faced Yugure Yuhi once at the beginning of the year in a practice match. It was a stomp of course, she got absolutely smoked with nothing but a line of bruises and an embarrassing record to show for it. And isn’t that a testament to how their futures are destined to play out?
She’s a ticking time bomb who’s almost reached the end of her fuse. Three years dedicated to this craft and little to show for it–if she doesn’t make a splash with this match, her career is set to end here.
Yugure Yuhi, on the other hand, is a newborn star. She crashed into this industry less than a year ago and she’s swept up twice as many victories as Sato has in her lifetime.
Kagisaki’s watching her brood, counting out the seconds with her pointer finger.
“You’re getting caught up in your own head again,” she says, pulling her wand out from her pocket.
“I know,” Sato mumbles. She tries to ease the tension that’s settled on her limbs with a laugh but it comes out strangled and garbled instead.
“You’re a good fighter,” Kagisaki says, patting her head and it’s the closest she’ll get to encouragement from her. “You’re a good kid. Keep your head up and trust your practice.”
Sato nods and Kagisaki hands her wand over to her. She takes it, studying the chips and patterns carved into the handle.
She bound it with her blood–it was the best way to get it to stick. Sato stares at three years of hard work, of blood, sweat and tears twisted into the wood and wonders if it can hold a candle against raw talent.
What does it matter if it can–she has no choice but to give it everything she has. To feed her time and passion and life and soul into this sport and hopes that it burns bright enough to leave a mark.
Sato spells her hair up out of her face and pushes herself up off the bench.
“Give ‘em hell out there,” Kagisaki says, holding her fist up into the air.
She grins and spells the doors wide open.