He pressed the tip of the kunai against his index finger, drawing a small dribble of blood. He stuck his tongue out and licked it, the familiar warm, metallic taste registering in his mind. This. Too much of this has been spilled by that damn caped baldy and his fucking robot servant boy.

Sonic screamed, throwing the kunai to the floor.

It missed his foot by a mere inch.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why was it so damn hard to beat him? He trains and practices and pushes himself way beyond his limit, only to end up on the dirty fucking ground, wallowing in a shallow pool of humiliation and anger and a destroyed ego. Every attack is proved useless, and just when he thinks he has the upper hand, everything comes crashing mercilessly upon him.

It was so, so frustrating.

He slumped to his knees with a loud thump, soon positioning himself onto his back, arms outstretched, heart heavy. Saitama was his eternal rival; they were destined to fight each other until one of them dies, and death wouldn't be the one to befall Speed of Sound Sonic. He'd be victorious against that living, breathing egg. Sonic refused to look like a fucking fool again, some –

You won't win against him.

– godforsaken obsessive idiot that –

You won't win. You'll never beat him.

– didn't know when to realize that it's futile and –

You won't win. You won't win. You won't win. You won't –

Sonic shivered. The apartment was relatively warm and yet he shivered, trembled, quivered violently while reality set down upon him. He curled in on himself, breaths becoming sharper, heavier. His face felt warm and wet. No, no, no, nonononono - he was crying, fucking crying of all things. He couldn't even remember the last time he cried like this. What the hell was wrong with him? This isn't him; this isn't him at all. Speed of Sound Sonic doesn't give up so easily. He'll find a way to defeat Saitama and Genos and anyone else that dare stands in his way.

Sonic laughed hysterically and brokenly. Now that was a good lie he told himself.

The ninja was falling into the pits of velleity.

He wasn't sure if he'll ever climb out.