It had hit him like a punch to the face, right at that moment.

History was happening here.

He was standing with Bouya Harumichi, him and the last shreds of The Front behind him, listening to Harumichi spill his arrogance down the hillside to Bulldog lying below. Harumichi was doing that grand entrance thing he was fond of, but this time Ryuushin was with him and he was glad of it. Being on the receiving end of unexpectedly running into Harumichi hadn't worked out for him in the past.

But now, Harumichi was all directed at Bulldog and Ryuushin realized that people were probably going to be telling stories about this.

People talked like that. Punks really, were nothing but gossips. There were whispers still around about how Harumichi had beaten him and his own, and how the mighty T.F.O.A. Had fallen from two hundred strong to three. There were tall tales about old punks who had thrown down with the police and killed one of them, talk about yakuza's sons who unified who cities full of delinquents, and a hundred different variations of the Front's own origins. Harumichi showing up at a big fight like this with The Armament at his back and throwing out a bunch of loaded statements about brothers that really brought Bulldog back on his feet just added gasoline to the ever growing fire of his legend. You usually never know when legends are being created, but Ryuushin at that moment did.

He didn't even mind ferrying Harumichi back to his scooter.