they both felt nervous. they'd gone to a semi-crowded bar because the fighter slept all day and fought late. it wasn't a problem to the stranger. he didn't mind staying up too long to hear the boy talk.
to break the silence, one would say something about themselves and the other would add on from that.
it started with the stranger giving his name, since he already knew the fighter's last.
"my name's alex," he supplied.
"my sister's name is may." it wasn't relevant, but it was on the topic.
the stranger nodded. "why do you fight?"
"why do you teach?" he recounted, merely because he was curious. he hated being a fighter. he hated that he was good at it.
the stranger smirked. "we can't all be fighters."
the fighter nodded. he was right. "i need the money," he answered.
the stranger listened more now, waiting for him to talk. the fighter winced every time he had to open his mouth more than a little to speak or to smile. it reopened the slits along his lips that had barely begun to heal every time another was introduced.
"i like influencing the new age," the stranger said.
"i hate to fight."
"i hate fights."
"i can't stop fighting, though."
"i know."
