[hider=Matteo, Aoi, Ash]
After that knockout blow, there was more disappointment through the crowd rather than cheers. Many had been rooting for the underdog, had expected Matteo to turn out to be a stronger man than he looked, but the results spoke for themselves: the bespectacled youth was laid out on the ground, blood coating his mouth and nose, while Old Bear was flanked by three of the city guard, dragged off to another night in the gaol. More were sent out to end the festivities for that night, clanging their swords against their shields to chase off those enticed by the street fight.

And with that, the streets were soon emptied out, different people heading off in different directions to find a bed for the night.
But was it apathy towards strangers? Resentment towards his cowardice? Or something else? Regardless, no matter how much the crowd dispersed, no one picked up Matteo. His nose had been broken, his glasses shattered and stuck in his face, and there was no small amount of blood clotting over him…but still, no one came. Healing wasn’t free. Even sympathy had a price.

And so, he laid there, unconscious, breathing through his mouth, as the night continued on.

[center]~~~[/center]

Before Ash and Aoi could speak up, the twin-braided waitress pulled Aoi to the side as a dozen guards rushed up to the scene to break up the crowd. For a moment, there was a glimmer of hope that Matteo had survived the short bout without any pressing injuries, but the broken-up crowd soon put an end to that.

[b]“Oof,”[/b] the waitress winced, [b]“That looks pretty bad.”[/b]
[/hider]