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Horkeukamui placed a hand on the side of Ikutoshi's face, the mere size of it nearly covering the entirety of the left side of his face. The ever present bandaid on the slope of Ikutoshi's nose scrunched up as he turned his focus from the hollering in the arena to Horkeukamui. His frustration from the last match still churning the embers of his rising temper. Which was still clear as day in his expression but also in his eyes. It was the irritation of a youth who had grown a great disdain toward the person in question but also the outrage of a man who loathed the thought that such a person would dare step into the ring with him while calling themselves a 'true' martial artist.
Ikutoshi grew up learning the art and knew practically every trick in the book. His father took him under his wing the moment he could stand and throw his first punch. Whatever that was in the arena, that wasn't anything close to the true form of the technique. More like a mockery and if Ikutoshi had his way, his opponent would've learned the true fear of what they assumed was martial arts. Slowly and painfully, until it sunk in and stayed fresh in their mind for years to come.
Even Horkeukamui was appalled by the sight of what he'd seen and knew that if he hadn't gone to get Ikutoshi out of the arena, he would've gone through with teaching them that lesson.
This is why Ikutoshi had problems with newcomers to the Berserkers. It was almost as if they thought they knew everything and could trash talk anyone the second they were finally allowed inside by Garmr or Snow. Like they thought that they were invincible just because a Gladiator vouched for them and they managed to get past the test at the entrance.
It was, for all intents and purposes, annoying.
That being said, there were a few that showed promise but not enough for Ikutoshi to think twice on it. Horkeukamui, aside from Bathym, seemed to be interested in seeing just who might rise through the ranks and potentially claim Taurus Mask's spot as number ten in the Guild. Though no one really questions it when Taurus Mask starts all over again at the bottom of the cull and makes his way back to his spot once more.
Ikutoshi sucked in a hiss as Horkeukamui brushed his thumb over his cheek, where a lucky hit had been made by one of the fighters in the group for the match. Having been distracted by two of them, a third snuck by his notice and Ikutoshi barely had any time to react before a fist caught the curve of his cheekbone. The apologetic look and retreat of Horkeukamui's thumb gave him enough of an indication that it was either starting to look as bad as it had felt or the bruise had already formed.
He flexed his jaw as he turned his head, freeing his face from Horkeukamui's grip. “How bad is it?”
“It is no worse than the beat down you gave that man who had the nerve to call his form the ‘correct way.’” Horkeukamui paused for a moment, eyeing the darkening bruise before reaching over to his locker to pull out a chilled bottle of water. He held it out to Ikutoshi and watched as he took it with a grumbled, ‘Thanks,’ before he pressed it against his cheek. “Perhaps you should close the App. Or put some ice on it.”
“I'm fine.” Ikutoshi lowered the bottle and unscrewed the cap, breaking the seal with a decisive snap. “Just a surprise attack. It won't happen again.” He tipped his head back as he chugged a couple mouthfuls of water, parting from the neck with a huff and wiped the dribbles of water off his chin. Ikutoshi closed his eyes and sighed, his elbows resting on his parted knees and his shoulders slumping. “Thanks. I forgot how thirsty I get after fighting like that.”