[ there's just a clear, furious moment, where ichiro takes a deep breath and wants to say something. he takes the hit when it comes, again, right on the cheek - another shiner for him, tomorrow - and he doesn't.

he just jerks backwards again, a staggering step back. he's just as much of a fighter, a brawler - all he ever does is hit. people who attack directly always leave themselves open, somehow, someone said to him once, but he doesn't fucking care, right now. right now, the blood at the back of his mouth tastes like being alive. ]

So then, what?! We vote for Maya?! She's Jiro's age and this place forced her to do it! Like it forces everyone to do everything, those stupid expulsions, everything!

[ another hit, left handed, not nearly as strong but right at the jaw - and then he just lunges in and grabs onto her collar, hard, as if he could get the point across, better. ] You haven't done anything wrong! That's what I'd fucking say - this place just keeps beating the shit out of you, and - you - you're a fucking moron if you think I'd ever let that happen!

[ care, heartbreak, and anger - sometimes they all just go together. they're the things that make ichiro ichiro, a passionate, furious person, good and bad. he cares. he cares so much it makes up every fiber of his being.

it's obvious, here. roses and thorns in a statement, snarled with as much care as he can manage. ] I don't know what else to do.