[h2]Mako Moritomi//Warakuma High[/h2]
[h3]Wednesday, April 15, 2015[/h3]

==~==

Mako settled into his routine like a comfortable suit, or perhaps a nice boxing glove, more appropriately, savaging the bag in front of him with a flurry of blows. Despite his obvious effort, his feral grin never faltered, in fact growing by a few teeth as he escalated his efforts. This. [i]This[/i] was his zone, where he belonged. This was what gave him purpose. This was his domain.

Which made it all the more galling that someone was now intruding upon it.

Mako stopped suddenly in his not-quite-mauling of the bag before him as Akari (pretty sure that was the name) came up alongside him, her words curling around him like some sort of faint foulness. [color=0076a3][i]Odd. I didn't think I'd done anything to deserve rudeness today. Or perhaps my presence offends that much?[/i][/color] He gathered his composure (trying to speak in Fight Mode would have been ugly) for a moment or two, breathing deeply, then wiped the sweat from his face, and turned to his brown-haired compatriot.

[color=0076a3]"Ah. Yes. Akari, right? Everything is going well, as you can see. So, unless you needed something...?"[/color] Mako bounced slightly on the balls of his feet, clearly anxious to get back to his attempted murder of the heavy bag.

[color=0076a3][i]Take the hint...[/i][/color]