How had his American cousin so charmingly put it? "Fuck that pussy shit. Only weapons I believe in are my guns and my fists."
Phantom was nothing like Han. In fact, it was sometimes difficult for Victor to believe that, unlike his chosen brother, Phantom was actually a blood relation.
Their fathers had grown up together in the same household. But Phantom was an ABC, American-born Chinese. So he and Victor had little in common.
Regardless, Victor liked and appreciated his plain-spoken family member. From the age of twelve, Phantom’s father had sent him to Hong Kong every summer, so he and Han considered him much like an older brother.
Phantom tended to rub the Hong Kong side of the Red Diamond the wrong way, though. His rough American-accented Cantonese and his general lack of respect for those higher up in their triad’s chain weren’t regarded favorably. But anyone looking at him could tell he was a valuable asset. He was even taller and larger than Victor. A born enforcer, the sight of him alone often intimidated enemies from attacking Phantom’s father at in-person meetings.
He was also loyal. It'd taken nothing more than a couple of text messages from Han for Phantom to drop everything he was doing in America. He’d shown up in Japan with a duffle bag and a grin to—as he’d put it, "keep you company."
For that reason, Victor ignored his disrespectful tone and simply raised his fists to fight.
But instead of raising his fists, Phantom said, “If you’re having second thoughts about beating up that Nakamura kid over a girl—good. You should be.”
Victor inwardly sighed. Yes, Phantom was unfailingly loyal. If asked to hold a sixteen-year-old prone while Victor punched him, Phantom did so without blinking an eye.
But unfortunately, the price of that loyalty was having to put up with him always speaking his mind. If he represented American males in their twenties, it would seem they were all incapable of keeping their opposing thoughts to themselves.
“When your dad finds out, he’s going to be pissed,” Phantom continued, ignoring Victor’s lack of response. “And you know that shiny suit Donny fuck’s probably texting back and forth with them right now.”
Phantom was wrong about that….
Donny had most likely texted his father about the incident this afternoon as soon as Victor and Phantom left him alone at his post. Donny always quietly obeyed orders, but his loyalty lay foremost with their dragonhead.
But enough. This wasn’t a conversation Victor cared to have with his cousin. Especially since Phantom was 100% right.
Instead of answering, Victor sprayed his opponent with a volley of kicks and punches.
Phantom blocked his first hits easily. That was fine. The beginning of a fight was often a character study for Victor. He threw a quick array of hits and kicks, like a child playing Mortal Kombat. Testing to see what worked and what didn’t. Waiting patiently for the perfect opening to end the fight with the most efficient strike, painful and ruthless. This was just one of the reasons Han refused to engage in hand-to-hand combat with him.
Despite his size, Phantom was doing a great job of both deflecting and avoiding punches. He was almost putting up a good enough fight to distract him from thoughts of Dawn.
Dawn, who still hadn’t been in contact, even though he gifted her with a phone that he’d never taken back. Dawn, who would probably keep the NTT Docomo but never talk again to the mute freak who could only confess his feelings with a childish note.
“Ow, man! Fuck!”
Victor didn’t realize one of his punches had landed until he drew back his fist to find his cousin bleeding profusely from his nose.
“Too hard?” He would not apologize. That was not the way of a future dragonhead. But he did not like that thoughts of Dawn had caused him to lose control. That made him feel guilty as he asked, “Did I break your nose?”
Phantom grinned, the blood from his nose running into his teeth. “Nice shot, cuz.”
Before Victor could thank him for his good-natured response, Phantom swung one huge leg through the air and round housed him.
Getting hit with the full force of his cousin’s kick was like taking a steel beam to the chest. Victor flew backward, past the edge of the mat, and then even further. His journey didn’t end until he landed on top of his study table, which instantly shattered under his weight.
“Too hard?” Phantom asked with a smirk, coming to stand above him.
“No, just hard enough,” Victor signed before staggering to his feet. “Thank you.”
Victor wasn't trying to be tough. He welcomed the pain of receiving the full force of Phantom’s revenge. It was better than obsessing over Dawn.
The light from his own NTT Docomo, sitting in the middle of the table’s wreckage, caught his eye. He bent down to pick it up, his heart once again raring with hope. It was still in one piece. But…
