Four days after that humiliating defeat…
Renji wakes to a room that still smells of alcohol and antiseptic. Late morning light leaks through the curtains and lands directly on his swollen face, forcing him to squint through an eye that does not fully open.
The skin around his right temple feels tight, the stitches pulling whenever he shifts. His cheek remains puffy, the bruising a dark gradient that has not yet decided whether it wants to fade. His head throbs with a stubborn rhythm that has nothing to do with punches anymore.
The phone begins to ring on the nightstand. But he does not bother to check the screen to know who it is.
"Argh, shit. My head…"
The vibration drills into his skull. He exhales slowly and reaches across the sheets, pressing reject without lifting his head from the pillow.
But the silence only last for three seconds before the phone rings again. He takes a look; a call from his fiancée.
