Match of the Millennium

Description: The acrobatic performer Honoka Kawamoto and Definitely A Legitimate Businessman Katashi Tairyu meet in Kyoto, outside of Ginkaku-ji for an explosive clash certain to keep the audience entertained.

[HONOKA]
The Philosopher's Path follows the path of a steep canal winding its way through northeastern Kyoto. Lined with sakura trees, the Philosopher's Path is a sentimental journey through the heart of a centuries-old city, not unlike a window through time and space to a simpler way of life.

You'd need to take a hard departure from the Philosopher's Path to make it to one of the most famous temples in Japan, though, the Temple of the Silver Pavilion. That path is a somewhat narrow street heading due east, lined with its own eclectic mix of old and new, of weathered businesses and brand-new storefronts, all eager to make the most of the tourists frequenting the area. That path crosses a small street before widening out into a broad plaza paved in gray bricks. The path continues on the other side, transitioning into wide steps that head up to the main gate of the large temple complex.

The plaza itself is wide and flat, no stranger to such special events as the World Warrior event. Barricades block access on Honen-in Street, the north-south street that forms the plaza's western border. Honen-in Temple itself borders the plaza on the north, while a tea shop takes up the south.

It's outside this tea shop that a... side performance seems to be keeping the eager onlookers entertained. Six ladies in festival yukata are interacting with many of the participants -- some talking in animated fashion, one juggling balls. One in particular, though, bears a distinctive look -- streaks of purple highlights, contrasting vividly with her jet black hair. And the yukata-wearing star seems to be getting the most attention from her juggling props -- four diabolos, that resemble large yo-yos, defying gravity as they whirl around through a tightly-rehearsed sequence.

Honoka Kawamoto, live and in person, with a broad smile on her face. She seems wholly engrossed with her entertainment -- but every so often, the smiling performer spares a glance towards Honen-in Street, watching for her opponent's arrival.

[TAIRYU]
There's not much fanfare to go with it, but the eye of the performer does eventually catch the one she's waiting for, walking from the way of Honen-in.

A tall man with lightly spiked-back, black hair, in a dark suit over a red dress shirt with it's two topmost buttons left hanging open. It's a distinctive enough of a look that is easily associated with a certain brand of thug, but is also the signature of a certain man known as many different things. A business owner. A philantrophist. A fighter. The protegé of Aizawa. The Sun Dragon of Southtown.

Katashi Tairyu himself probably wouldn't really call himself any of those things.

At least the crowds of onlookers and tourists gathered here in the plaza are mostly distracted by the entertainment provided by the festive group of women. Enough that he can step his way through them mostly without a fuss, save from the attentive organizers in the background.

He steps himself along without any effort to draw any attention to himself either -- at least save for the inevitable meeting of Kawamoto's gaze. He doesn't call out, however, no. He merely stops amidst the other spectators, to watch the show while it is still ongoing. That momentary meeting of eyes is enough for the time being. At least while the performers are still continuing on.

Afterall, it would be terribly rude to interrupt, wouldn't it? He knows better than that as someone intimately familiar with the various entertainment venues associated with Kabukicho.

[HONOKA]
It isn't terribly clear if Miss Kawamoto had been looking at Tairyu specifically, or just in his general vicinity. But the fact remains that the diabolo performance, as it was, does take something of an upturn in intensity. It's not easy, maintaining maintainence the spin and velocity of four diabolos while also making the performance something interesting to watch. Weaving the diabolos in and out, to and fro, all through the bouncing of one string between two extended sticks. Each of the four props bounds about along predetermined, rehearsed arcs, though her vivacious performance and electrifying enthusiasm makes it feel fresh and dynamic for those seeing it up close and personal.

But then... as she attempts a flourish... one of the sticks flies out of her hands, spinning rapidly away from her in an arc. Honoka stumbles, reaching out with her now-open hand to try and catch hold of the rogue stick -- but it travels too far in too short a time for her to catch hold, and suddenly hits a snag, the string pulling it around a support beam for the tea house's roof. The four airborne diabolo each fall along their individual parabolic paths...

But then Honoka smiles, simply tugging backwards on the stick still in her hand. The string snaps taut. And three of the diabolo land upon the string: one, two, three.

A smiling Honoka reaches into the air, plucking the lone fourth from its wild orbit. And takes a bow, to a hearty round of applause from the entertained onlookers, all while three diabolo continue to spin on their respective axes on the level string.

When she rises from her bow, coffee-brown irises fixate upon Katashi Tairyu. And the performer twiddles the fingers gently wrapped about the diabolo in her hand. The small body of onlookers parts, affording her a direct path.

And after a moment to affirm... she tugs the string upwards. The spinning diabolos pop into the air. And a moment later, they fall into her grip: two of the large props per hand. And she begins to make use of the cleared path, homing right in on her fight's opponent.

"Tairyu Katashi-sama... isn't it?" A performer to the last, to use such an honorific for an esteemed guest. She lowers her diabolo-cradling hands to her sides for a formal bow.

"Kawamoto Honoka. It's an honor to have the opportunity to fight against you. Welcome to the World Warrior."

[TAIRYU]
The performance was, as it turns out, alluring enough to keep Tairyu's firm attention through the entirety of it that continues after his arrival. The motions of Honoka's hands studied carefully during it all, matched to the airborne arcs of the diabolo she so expertly handles.

There is a non-zero chance that he is attempting to size up his opponent-to-be's abilities, but at the same time he does seem genuinely impressed by the performance. He even joins in on the assault with an energetic-enough clap of his hands.

But the crowd parts between him and the performer, leaving gazes to meet there. After her initial few steps, he does take a few of his own, to meet her halfway in the stage in the process of being set for them.

"The honor is mine, Kawamoto-san," his deep voice offers, with a mirroring of the bow made on his part with a proper, well-fashioned dip of his body. When he staightens up from the bow, his lips turn briefly upwards, and he offers, "The performance was captivating. I'd much like to speak on your art some more, but..."

He glances aside, to the steadily-retreating crowds who still maintain their eyes upon the pair. Eyes sweeping further through the strategically placed cameras in out-of-the-way places, perhaps even a silent drone in the air above.

"...It appears we have quite a few waiting eyes on us."

Having said that, he slowly takes a step back. A second, and a third, to grow roughly five meters' worth of distance between the two. There, his feet stamp onto the ground, the right shifting slightly back and to the side, while his fingers curl to loose fists -- the left kept lowered and pointed towards his opposing hip, while the right lifts up to hovering in line with his chin, knuckles pointed skywards. All things considered, it's a fairly minimal amount of adjustment in his stance, compared to some of the more elaborate martial artists' postures. However...

The air seems to waver faintly around the man in the black suit, as if distorted by heat. A growing haze -- an illusionary distortion that takes on the faint, barely-visible image of a great, azure-colored eastern dragon, hovering in the air behind and above Tairyu, coiled in a figure-eight with it's large head peering at Honoka past his shoulder. Most people don't seem to react to it. They might not even see it. It's... probably not really there, right?

"If you have no complaints, Kawamoto-san?"

COMBATSYS: Honoka has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Honoka           0/-------/-======|

COMBATSYS: Tairyu has joined the fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Honoka           0/-------/-======|=------\-------\0           Tairyu

[HONOKA]
"You're much too kind! Though, you're probably right..."

The stage is set. Local off-duty police officers stand by to direct out-of-towners to follow a different route to the Silver Pavilion. And the audience buzz is at its highest level yet, fresh off the energizing performance.

"Oh, I would," begins Honoka, crouching down so she can rest stack two of her diabolos beside her on the brickwork. "... but there's no way I can fight in this old thing."

She flashes a coquettish smile up to Tairyu, tapping two fingers upon her lips. "What to do, what to do..."

Suddenly: *PFWOOOM* Honoka is swallowed within a cloud of purple smoke, erupting from the bowl of one of her diabolos. The cloud swirls around, dense vapors billowing outwards...

And then, with a sudden gust of wind from within, the cloud shears apart to reveal Honoka standing within, shuttling two diabolo back and forth between her two sticks in hand, decked out in her stylish purple jacket, black scoop-necked t-shirt, and light gray shorts -- and the yukata nowhere to be found.

"I think I'm ready to begin, now -- if you are," answers Honoka with a sly grin.

An official is on site. And the word is given.

With no further hesitation, Honoka surges forward. "Show me what you've got!" The twin diabolos sail high into the air, swinging a high arc that would be most difficult to follow -- if Honoka weren't -also- swinging her 50cm-long batons at Tairyu with the intent to test his guard! Two simple swings, and then a hard followup with her trailing right-hand stick to test her opponent further! "Hraaaa!"

COMBATSYS: Tairyu counters Power Strike from Honoka with Dragon's Clutch EX.

[    \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Honoka           1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0           Tairyu

[TAIRYU]
Well. Wearing clothes that are unsuitable for combat is a perfectly reasonable issue to have, but Tairyu's look towards the woman is something on the bemused side.

"Kawamoto-san..." He calls out with a measurably disbelieving tone... only for the sudden explosion of tactically-timed smoke to interrupt whatever complaint he might have had prepared there. Eyes widen with a series of blinks, and he keeps staring into the smoke, watching it dissipate -- and witnessing his opponent having done a magic trick -like exchange of wardrobe in what might as well have been an instant.

"...Fair enough."

He allows his foot to scuff back subtly more, while taking a slow, steadying breath. Apparently meant to be enough of a signal to indicate his readiness, in lieu of words.

The instant Honoka moves, those bright eyes narrow. There's only a brief flicker up to the diabolos sent flying into the air, before his focus turns instead to the much-more-immediate threat of the batons in her hands. He stands his ground, first, waiting for her to cross the distance -- and then, two retreating steps, each made in time with her initial swings. It almost seems as though there might be a third, but her followup from the opposing hand would surely reach regardless...

Except, he suddenly reverses his direction of motion; directing his left foot to sweeping forward along the ground, directing it towards one of her own while his left palm shoves into her arm, to help redirect the swing where his body can flow just *barely* past the very tip of the baton.

The next fraction of a second, his right hand goes for her forearm, while the left redirects itself for her shoulder, in pulling her closer -- all in time with his own forward momentum helping carry his right knee to spiking up for her solar plexus. The motion comes with a sudden flurry of heated, azure energy, with the illusionary dragon seeming to coil around Tairyu's body and flow up along the length of his thigh, sweeping through Honoka's midsection in time with the impact of the knee.

"Haa...!" Comes another steadying breath now, with his foot stamping back down onto the ground, while his grip on Honoka's shoulder and arm remains for at least a moment longer, in an effort to keep himself at least a few seconds more in a more inconvenient angle for her.

[HONOKA]
Miss Kawamoto's attack was swift. Vicious. And... very much -not- in keeping with the concept of someone who twirls ribbons and juggling toys around for the benefit of others. And yet, that's exactly what her legions of fans -like- about the former Twilight Star Circus juggler -- volatile unpredictability and a contagious enthusiasm for raising the stakes.

It doesn't always work out, though, as Tairyu is quick to prove. Her probing strikes are met with both impeccable timing and a flawless defense; surefooted though she may be, it's hard for her to maintain balance when someone's shoving their foot into her own. Tipping forward, her upper ribcage is brought into direct conflict with Tairyu's knee, drawing a pained gasp from her lungs -- just before tongues of flame scorch their way into the performer. The two neglected diabolos miss their mark, clacking down onto the brickwork behind Tairyu. Eyes clamped shut from the momentary pain open to find herself trapped, even still...

She defies expectation with a lopsided grin.
"I see..."

After all, he did what she asked him to.
The sticks in her hand swivel around, their string-tethered ends pointed down. The manipulation happens as an almost-imperceptible sleight-of-hand, disguised in the midst of bringing her free palm forward -- as she seeks to grab a fist full of the red fabric. Not for anything particularly scandalous -- but to get a proper handhold for a judo hold.

That is to say -- with Tairyu holding fast, and working with the grip she intends to secure -- she would seek to throw her weight to Tairyu's side, taking momentary advantage of his proximity. If he shifts his stance for stability, he might find that one of the diabolos is inexplicably within the path of his foot. And if she lands the way she wants to, she'd end up with her back against the bricks -- and her knee extended up into Tairyu's abdomen in repayment for the pain visited upon her a moment prior.

He might also find that there's a sudden -spike- of agony that is fired up through the length of her thigh: it'd feel like a pained -static- is lancing its way right through him, lighting every other nerve on fire while leaving the rest to suffer a biting chill.

Managing that -- she would hope to roll free. But that's up to Tairyu... isn't it?

COMBATSYS: Tairyu dodges Honoka's Wakka Pururuse.

[      \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Honoka           1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0           Tairyu

[TAIRYU]
There's a tenet taught to bouncers and security guards all across the globe. If someone you are trying escort out while having a hold on their arm makes a threatening move, simply shove them away and reassess before they can complete whatever they are aiming for.

That thought passes through Tairyu's mind the instant Honoka twirls her batons. But perhaps it's the distracting motion of them that makes him not manage to actually go for the s hove before her other hand gets up in his personal space and grips into expensive fabric.

From there, though? He doesn't so much try to fight getting leveraged down. He doesn't try to stabilize himself. No, instead his foot shifts to an unexpected direction -- kicking down.

He all but pushes himself into the pulling motion, but with more force than Honoka may have intended. Enough so that he goes effectively crossing over her in the air, possibly with enough momentum to unfortunately end up tearing a patch of textile off by her still-gripping fingers while he sails over and lands onto his back besides her. The momentum carrying on even further to bring him rolling across the ground once, twice--

And then up to one knee, with his right arm, glowing with the illusory dragon now coiled around it up to hold it's head besides his raised, open palm -- and similiarly opening it's jaws...

To let out a sudden flare of flames in a small mass of heat and fire, launched across the distance created between the two again, at his opponent. It's very well likely he was even hoping to attack her with that while she's still down on the ground.

COMBATSYS: Tairyu successfully hits Honoka with Dragon's Breath.

[           \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Honoka           1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0           Tairyu

[HONOKA]
Honoka is surprisingly well-versed in the teachings offered to bouncers, so it should really come as no surprise to her that Katashi would be thinking along those lines. That is, after all, why she'd grabbed his shirt. It's just that she expected a bit more durability out of the garment than that. Was it really fine silk? Did it just -ignite- from close proximity to the flames he'd blasted her with just a moment ago? These are the questions flitting through Honoka's mind as she finds herself falling backwards onto the bricks with nothing more than a piece of frayed fabric to show for it.

Of a more pressing concern is the idea that Tairyu is now not only -free- of her grasp, but appearing to bear down on her. Honoka grits her teeth, bracing for impact and twisting sharply to land on her shoulder, pivoting into a roll away from Tairyu.

The two fighters' mirrored movements get the audience roaring in applause. A distant smile appears on Honoka's face as she springs back to her feet.

That smile turns to horror as she realizes Tairyu's closed the distance to her with a burst of dragon's flame -- orange, fiery tendrils that set her jacket's sleeves ablaze and force her into a retreating stagger. A momentary panic falls over her as she pats her sleeves to extinguish the raging inferno -- fear from a fight many months prior.

She takes three more steps backwards, whipping out her batons so that the strings are once more on top. As she steps, some in the audience might gasp as she looks like she might trip on one of her own diabolos -- but, instead, she lifts her foot to snaking the toes of her sneaker under the prop. With a quick kick, she flings it into the air, snaring it on her string -- not once breaking eye contact with Katashi Tairyu.

A moment later, she steps sideways, adding a second diabolo to her cord with a similar motion, showing an uncanny knack for memorizing the battlefield. The diabolos swing about, their orbit calm and unerring, as one leapfrogs the other in an endless loop.

The King of Fighters veteran's mood had strayed far from the calm and control she'd exhibited in her own performance just moments ago. And with that realization, she forces herself to take a long draw of breath. Her eyelids lower, her gaze growing glassy for a moment. She breathes out slowly.

A storefront from the side street begins playing a song. A speed metal riff, an energetic drum solo. Far off... and still enough to get her bobbing her head to the rhythm.

And, just like that, the professional performer has her focus back. With wide, alert eyes, she focuses on Tairyu.

"I'd apologize for your clothes," she comments, opening her hand to let the fabric flutter off into the sky. Her own jacket sleeves are charred and blackened; she adds: "But you're making a mess of mine." she gives a challenging, almost reckless grin, as her diabolos move to the recalibrated beat of the distant song.

"Would you care to try your luck again?"

COMBATSYS: Honoka issues a challenge!!

[           \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Honoka           1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0           Tairyu

COMBATSYS: Honoka etches a mental map of the area.

[           \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Honoka           1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0           Tairyu

[TAIRYU]
While the flames wash over Honoka, Tairyu has well enough time to straighten himself up to standing from that kneeling position, while a hand sweeps with some brief annoyance over the partially-torn stretch of his shirt that leaves firm muscle from underneath on display.

It doesn't take long for him to regain his own composure, though, and resume the posture he started with. But now it comes with a slow, methodical footwork that carries him in an edging, strafing circle along Honoka's perimeter while he watches her. Watches her swing the diabolos in their dangerously-reaching orbit.

Watches *her* watching.

Without even realizing it, his feet steadily pick up some pace, as if encouraged by the drum in the distance that his opponent, too, is bobbing her head to. And even he can't help but allow one corner of his mouth to twitch upward subtly at her words.

"It's quite fine," he assures. "The nature of the game, sometimes."

His eyes narrow, then. At the challenge he senses in both her words and her grin. At the beat of her spinning weapons. He, too, lets out a steadying breath now, again.

"Sounds like bait," he declares his own observation in a grunting declaration. But, even though he has said that? His pacing feet shuffle, and suddenly carry him in a closing sweep towards Honoka, like a dancer approaching his partner. There wasn't much time to study the rhytm of her weapons or their potential arcs, but he seems confident enough to at least attempt to slip in through their reach.

At least momentarily, that is. Another strafing step carries him past her side, and one foot rises amidst the momentum, to for the back of her thigh before he's fully past her. A poking kick, making deliberate use of his longer stature providing a more natural reach. To test her own guard, and perhaps to prod more movement to help him make a further study of what she has in store.

COMBATSYS: Honoka dodges Tairyu's Light Kick.

[           \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Honoka           1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0           Tairyu

[HONOKA]
One shouldn't walk into a trap willingly. Tairyu isn't so easily misled -- he's approaching with speed and deliberance, and moving to strike at an area less adequately defended.

But as he does so, the half-Ainu woman will be meeting his approach with an appraising smirk. Perhaps it was bait after all.

Tactically, Tairyu made a safe choice. The reach of both her batons and her diabolos is long, but his approach vector means that actually -hitting- him becomes difficult. And it's a choice Honoka regards with a cluck of her tongue, and a stuttered flick of her wrist. One of the diabolos fires off, destination unknown. The other seems to be simply -dropped-, falling in quite ordinary fashion to the ground.

It's just that, in the very next blink of an eye, Kawamoto isn't *there* any more -- as if she was just far, -far- too fast for him despite her semblance as 'bait'. The kick will connect with nothing save for the column of air vacated by her sudden and abrupt departure, leaving behind the faintest traces of a lavender scent.

But what Tairyu -will- notice is that, oddly enough, there appears to be a second opponent for him, dressed in the yukata Honoka had been wearing during her demonstration. And that long-sleeved opponent is striking downward with a karate chop, aimed to clock him right in the head as he recovers from his kick!

The illusion is clear and easy to understand. But the truth is more elusive. Her 'assistant' is nothing more than a trick: a diabolo flung through the sleeves to -look- like a karate chop. The trick would be seen through the moment the garment collapses under its own weight.

In reality, Kawamoto had used her simple falling diabolo as a deception to cover the wake of a sudden backspring that had carried her over top of Tairyu's field of view, while the aerial diabolo joined up with the yukata flung overhead in her illusive entrance.

The true strike would come at him from overhead and behind - a simple hand, reaching for the back of his neck. Completing that circuit would release a jolt of unrelenting electrical -fury- directly into his psyche -- along with the deafening, mesmerizing sound of a thunderclap that would leave him hearing distorted echoes for the next few seconds, as she hops away in relative safety.

COMBATSYS: Tairyu endures Honoka's Pon-itak Ki.

[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Honoka           1/----===/=======|=======\-------\1           Tairyu

[TAIRYU]
The feel of emptiness where Tairyu's foot sweeps through. It makes Tairyu click his tongue amidst the pulling back of his foot-- The middle of which he's hit by the realization of a shadow cast along his own. A presence besides him.

It's only after he has already pivoted along his waist and swept his arm to interecept the initially-perceived incoming strike to realize that what was allegedly threatening him was merely a bundle of cloth cleverly manipulated by string-controlled baton. It's just early enough of a realization to give him time to suss out where Honoka has gone. Just early enough for him to sense the incoming palm.

But not early enough for him to feel comfortable attempting to fully avoid it.

The Yakuza is not content, however, to merely stand there and take it. He begins a pivot on his heel, to bring himself spinning around just as that hand brushes his neck, and... and...

"--Hhhhhh?!"

What is this?

It's nothing like anything else Tairyu has felt before. A horrid thrum of electricity that seems to course through his very soul. Something trying to tear his mind itself undone. The man's pupils dilate as they try to involuntarily roll back into his head.

But yet.

There is a nearly thunderous sound of a foot stomping on the ground before Honoka. A sound heralding not her opponent falling over or staggering back, but defiantly pushing himself forward, after her retreat in a sudden, rapid dash that sees his posture brought low, and one hand wound far back and almost low enough to swipe the brickwork of the ground below them. A charge fueled by fury channeled to distract himself from the pain.

Three powerful steps in that low posture carry him up close, before the retreating hop even fully completes. And there, he springs up, thrusting the low-held hand. palm open, in an almost directly vertical vector up for her chin, while the illusionary dragon swoops upwards right alongside his arm, with glowing azure claws overlapping with the incoming hand.

All this, even with both his nostrils *and* ears very noticably leaking blood in rivulets of crimson staining his skin. Just that one touch alone was enough to ruin his hearing for at least a couple hours.

COMBATSYS: Honoka interrupts Rising Claw from Tairyu with Sarak Kamui.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////             ]
Honoka           1/-======/=======|=======\====---\1           Tairyu

[HONOKA]
To someone like Honoka, the power of the body is but a fraction of what's possible to the mind. Controlling an opponent's -perception- of the fight is every bit as important as the raw damage output of one's attacks. The audience reaction plays into things, of course -- but what they see and hear will undoubtedly be different from the bespoke show that Miss Kawamoto puts on for the audience of one.

The performer's got plenty more in her bag of tricks to be meted out at a later time. But as she makes her escape, her goal is to conserve the resources she has. And with two of her diabolos currently on the opposite side of Tairyu, her hop had brought her over to the two diabolos she had stacked on the brickwork. The Ainu acrobat slings one baton outward, its hollow length cracking against the bricks at roughly the same time as a thrum sounds through its string, popping the two diabolo airborne. A second and a third thrum sound, as the diabolos bob along the taut string, bouncing up further into the air in the process.

But Tairyu proves he has no interest in waiting for the resolution of the diabolos' serial drama, surging in before Honoka's sneakers can even tap down. Forced into making an adjustment, the juggler tugs upward on her string, slicing a translucent arc through the air as the diabolos are swept once more into its care.

An instant later, Honoka brings her left hand before her face, interposing it into the path of Tairyu's fist. A microsecond after that, one of the bounced diabolos snaps to her palm, not only providing her one more layer of defense against the sheer -impact- of the burning fist -- but also jolting it just far enough that it slips past her left shoulder.

A moment later, her sneaker touches brickwork. Honoka flashes a confident grin as her right hand is engulfed with a torrent of bright purple flame.

And an instant after that, those flames burn out, revealing a massive spinning auger of purple ribbons. A mighty drill of psychic assault which she slams into Tairyu's exposed chest. A trade she willfully accepts -- a punch forged of dragon's flame that she's able to mitigate, in order to land a full-on dose of raw, unmitigated pain. No true -damage- will be caused -- that is, nothing -permanent-... but Tairyu will likely be the first to attest that the showy, supernatural pyrotechnics are much more painful to experience first-hand.

"My, my... aren't you in a hurry...?" With one flick of her wrist, Honoka tugs her other baton back to her grip. And with a second, she casually flicks the diabolo into the air, catching it with the string as she resumes the diabolo's dance upon the undulating string. "There's plenty more to show the audience here, " she adds. Honoka makes a conscious effort to divert the audience's focus from her red, swelling hand -- or the singed, smoking fabric of her sleeve, exuding a the cool confidence of a consummate professional.

[TAIRYU]
With the lingering pain of the earlier psychic assault, Tairyu might not even immediately register the fact that his fiery fist had not entirely found it's mark.

And even once he does, it's much too late to properly redirect for any kind of corrective followup. The renewed psychic assault, the purple flames transfixed into a drill-like force is already piercing into his chest.

"Ghhaaaahhh!!"

There's no defense to provide in that instant. Even the backward momentum that carries him away from her is more a recoil from the impact of the pyrotechnics that forces him away rather than a voluntary retreat. It's obvious enough it is such, with him nearly dropping down to one knee on the way, and him effectively skidding the rest of the way out before he fully comes to a stop.

"Haaahhh... Haaaahhh..." Heavy but steady breathes leave the man's mouth while his hand presses to the ground to help keep his own stability. The tear of an opening on his shirt grown even further by the psychic fire, leaving a renewed webbing of burns along flesh, like a lightning strike had pierced into him.

It's not entirely clear if he even hears Honoka's taunting words. While he's rising to standing upright, one hand briefly flicks past the side of his head, sweeping out a bit of the blood that is dripping from the lobe. There's no verbal response, just a brief look at the red staining his thumbtip, before the hand is flicked to the side, sending wet spatters of crimson streaking onto the brickwork instead.

"...Mmmhh." It's a thouhghtful sound. Reassessing, perhaps. His eyes narrow themselves on Honoka once more, but this time, there's not an immediate approach. The stance is assumed once more, slowly, and that steady, slow footwork carries him along the woman's perimeter once more. Maintained longer this time, while he watches her. Studies her. Perhaps waiting to see what move she will make next, in this standoff?

COMBATSYS: Tairyu focuses on his next action.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////             ]
Honoka           1/-======/=======|=======\====---\1           Tairyu

[HONOKA]
Honoka's left hand is killing her. It's swollen now, the fingers straining to keep from seizing up as she flicks the baton through its paces -- the comforting, regular motions carried out through years of practice, to keep the diabolo spinning in a fixed, regular pattern. More vigorous dexterity will hurt... but for now she's able to keep her pain from drawing too much attention.

Because, like Katashi Tairyu, Miss Kawamoto is focused on the battle. Adrenaline courses through her veins -- the end product of being forced into a near panic over a rapid escalation of attacks from a Yakuza don known for punching way above his weight class.

It's valuable intel for her alter-ego. Scarlet Dahlia had been curious about the well-dressed man's fighting potential. But, she declined to test him in person, fearful of what he could do -- or worse, what he might think. Perhaps he might draw the conclusion that she was vulnerable. A peer. Or even... weak. Dahlia could not allow that.

But it's okay, the shadowy Akatsuki-gumi leader assured her other self, for Tairyu to play with Honoka. The easy, fun-loving one. The idealist, fun-loving, acrobatic juggler with a penchant for fiery entrances. The captivating performer who, even now, keeps pace with his machinations, stepping sideways to maintain her distance, shifting the locus of her 'perimeter' even as he seeks to test that boundary. Through it all, the diabolo metronome never fails, always maintaining the same perfect swoosh-clack, swoosh-clack timing. An ever-present comfort for a mind that constantly imposes order upon a chaotic world.

He may not have heard her teasing. He may not care. But he is following her suggestions all the same -- keeping his distance, biding his time, and allowing the predator to catch her breath. For, just like lions and tigers, she bests her prey through vigilance and persistence. Sustained violence is not in the cards for her -- but rather, stalking, waiting for the perfect opportunity to land a fierce and calculated strike, before stepping back to reassess and recalculate. And she intends to pin him to her own timetable. To march Tairyu to her distant drumbeat.

Likewise... he might not notice the three traps she's set like mines throughout the battlefield. He even walks right past one. Then another.

But then that closest diabolo shudders.
As if connected by an unseen tether: clack, against brickwork.
And then another: clack.
And then a third: clack.

It's a minor distraction. Theatrical, nothing more. An oddity; perhaps the rolling props had merely decided to fall down onto their sides. But then they begin to sound more. Clack-clack. Clack-cl-clack-clack. Cl-cl-cl-clack. Still Honoka's metronome continues, unabated, swoosh-clack, swoosh-clack, as she steps behind the crumpled mass of her discarded yukata, interposed between herself and Tairyu by their circumnavigated path. Still she offers him that confident smile -- not wanting to show even the slightest sign of weakness or doubt.

And then the cloth mound springs upwards, pulled up by some freak air current. The fabric shoots up. The yukata spreads wide, sleeves billowing out.

And in the very next instant, Honoka Kawamoto is airborne, springing up with the the yukata as cover!


The batons twirl in her hands -- but the string suspended between them glows a vivid, searingly-bright purple -- curling into a near perfect circle with the thrumming vibration of her batons. Inscribed within are weblike strands of psychic power -- the faint pattern of a spinning five-pointed star, spinning slowly within the baton's string. The diabolo glows brilliantly, almost white in its luminance as it hovers -- no longer shuttling, but suspended in the midst of the perfect circle, thrumming with spectral power.

The circumnavigation had taken several seconds. But the airborne leap: less than one. And all that time, Honoka had been fixated on one goal: the perfect opportunity to land a fierce and calculated strike.

Clack.
The diabolo freezes in midair.
*THOOOOM*
The white energy flares up -- and bursts out as a single star-shaped column of energy. Streaking downward at Tairyu with such terrible foreboding. Based on what had happened in such rapid succession, time itself must surely seem to slow down in an adrenaline-fueled haze. The concentrated psychic energy would surely bowl him over like a tsunami of undifferentiated *pain* and searing light and heat. But whether it actually hits Tairyu... is entirely up to him, and how he reads this threat to his World Warrior aspirations.

Honoka's left hand is killing her. It's swollen now, the fingers straining to keep from seizing up as she flicks the baton through its paces -- the comforting, regular motions carried out through years of practice, to keep the diabolo spinning in a fixed, regular pattern. More vigorous dexterity will hurt... but for now she's able to keep her pain from drawing too much attention.

Because, like Katashi Tairyu, Miss Kawamoto is focused on the battle. Adrenaline courses through her veins -- the end product of being forced into a near panic over a rapid escalation of attacks from a Yakuza don known for punching way above his weight class.

It's valuable intel for her alter-ego. Scarlet Dahlia had been curious about the well-dressed man's fighting potential. But, she declined to test him in person, fearful of what he could do -- or worse, what he might think. Perhaps he might draw the conclusion that she was vulnerable. A peer. Or even... weak. Dahlia could not allow that.

But it's okay, the shadowy Akatsuki-gumi leader assured her other self, for Tairyu to play with Honoka. The easy, fun-loving one. The idealist, fun-loving, acrobatic juggler with a penchant for fiery entrances. The captivating performer who, even now, keeps pace with his machinations, stepping sideways to maintain her distance, shifting the locus of her 'perimeter' even as he seeks to test that boundary. Through it all, the diabolo metronome never fails, always maintaining the same perfect swoosh-clack, swoosh-clack timing. An ever-present comfort for a mind that constantly imposes order upon a chaotic world.

He may not have heard her teasing. He may not care. But he is following her suggestions all the same -- keeping his distance, biding his time, and allowing the predator to catch her breath. For, just like lions and tigers, she bests her prey through vigilance and persistence. Sustained violence is not in the cards for her -- but rather, stalking, waiting for the perfect opportunity to land a fierce and calculated strike, before stepping back to reassess and recalculate. And she intends to pin him to her own timetable. To march Tairyu to her distant drumbeat.

Likewise... he might not notice the three traps she's set like mines throughout the battlefield. He even walks right past one. Then another.

But then that closest diabolo shudders.
As if connected by an unseen tether: clack, against brickwork.
And then another: clack.
And then a third: clack.

It's a minor distraction. Theatrical, nothing more. An oddity; perhaps the rolling props had merely decided to fall down onto their sides. But then they begin to sound more. Clack-clack. Clack-cl-clack-clack. Cl-cl-cl-clack. Still Honoka's metronome continues, unabated, swoosh-clack, swoosh-clack, as she steps behind the crumpled mass of her discarded yukata, interposed between herself and Tairyu by their circumnavigated path. Still she offers him that confident smile -- not wanting to show even the slightest sign of weakness or doubt.

And then the cloth mound springs upwards, pulled up by some freak air current. The fabric shoots up. The yukata spreads wide, sleeves billowing out.

And in the very next instant, Honoka Kawamoto is airborne, springing up with the the yukata as cover!


The batons twirl in her hands -- but the string suspended between them glows a vivid, searingly-bright purple -- curling into a near perfect circle with the thrumming vibration of her batons. Inscribed within are weblike strands of psychic power -- the faint pattern of a spinning five-pointed star, spinning slowly within the baton's string. The diabolo glows brilliantly, almost white in its luminance as it hovers -- no longer shuttling, but suspended in the midst of the perfect circle, thrumming with spectral power.

The circumnavigation had taken several seconds. But the airborne leap: less than one. And all that time, Honoka had been fixated on one goal: the perfect opportunity to land a fierce and calculated strike.

Clack.
The diabolo freezes in midair.
*THOOOOM*
The white energy flares up -- and bursts out as a single star-shaped column of energy. Streaking downward at Tairyu with such terrible foreboding. Based on what had happened in such rapid succession, time itself must surely seem to slow down in an adrenaline-fueled haze. The concentrated psychic energy would surely bowl him over like a tsunami of undifferentiated *pain* and searing light and heat. But whether it actually hits Tairyu... is entirely up to him, and how he reads this threat to his World Warrior aspirations.

please remove one of the pose walls thanks -h

COMBATSYS: Tairyu blocks Honoka's Nochiu-o Kando.

[                \\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////                ]
Honoka           0/-------/=======|=======\======-\1           Tairyu

[TAIRYU]
Can Tairyu even hear the clacking of the traps, with his eardrums still thrumming? It's not entirely clear. But it is clear enough that he can sense that... *something* is wrong, eventually enough.

Not early enough, however, for him to make his move before Honoka has gone airborne. Tairyu's eyes do track the abandoned yukata billowing into the air for a second, before trying to lock on to Honoka herself.

But it ultimately the star-shape the strings of her diabolo are forming that his attention fully focuses on. Realization hits in, but--

It's already coming. There's no time to get out of the way.

The illusionary azure dragon formed by Tairyu's Chi flows along his shoulders, coiling around his arms -- and becomes one with them. A bright glow from underneath the sleeves of his jacket as he holds those limbs up infront of him in a blocking posture, thrusting up into the column of energy that shoots into him.

"Hhhh--"

His feet skid against the ground as it impacts into him. Teeth gritting together almost tight enough to threaten cracking bone while he pushes all of his resolve to keeping him upright, while flesh and chi clash against psychic energy. Tearing apart sleeves from around elaborately and eloquently tattooed arms before burning at skin.

But then. He thrusts his arms out to the sides, in opposind directions.

"---hhhhrrrRRAAAAAAAHHH!!!"

The energy shatters, exploding into a magnificient lightshow that spreads across the plaza, left to flutter down along the air like oddly-colored snowflakes or fireflies. And through from amidst it all, Tairyu charges forward.

The skin of his now-bared arms is flaring a bright red from the assault of psyionic energy, but he's clearly not planning to stop to nurse the burns. Focusing only on dashing to where Honoka lands.

For a split second, it might appear as though he is about to deliver a vicious haymaker upon her. But at the last second, his foot stomps onto the ground forcefully, and he directs his weight to pivoting along the heel of that same foot.

And swipe his other leg in a wide but quick arc for Honoka's own heel. Not just to bruise, but to forcefully send her foot swinging out from underneath her and disrupt balance, if his strike finds it's way home.

COMBATSYS: Honoka blocks Tairyu's Sweeping Strike.

[                 \\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Honoka           0/-------/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\1           Tairyu

[HONOKA]
The sound of three clacks can be heard echoing throughout the brickwork plaza. A moment later, there is the rustle of the yukata falling to the ground. And a moment after that -- the tip-tap of two sneakers touching down. The juggler's string fades back to its normal, non-emissive state, her spent diabolo rocking back and forth like a see-saw.

Honoka Kawamoto regards her opponent with a weary, but satisfied, smile. "An impressive defense, Mr Tairyu," she comments. Her eyes fixate upon the newly bared skin, pleased to see that the yakuza leader has weathered the storm, her psychic bombardment shattered into a trillion shards of prismatic glass, tinkling on the brickwork before evaporating completely. It would, of course, be a pity if the game were to have ended so soon.

But, that's all she has time to say. He's instantly on the move again. And with that, the juggler swings her diabolo one way, then the other, into a clockwise spin, re-establishing the regular beat she uses to guide her timing.

One cycle passes, and then he's brandishing his fist for a knuckle sandwich. The juggler swings her shoulders away from the brawler's core vector, bringing her batons low as she uses the angular momentum to augment her balance.

And yet, in the next cycle, the movement changes. With the close proximity, and her committment, movement is limited -- and yet not impossible for the trained acrobat. With a flick of her wrist, the diabolo goes airborne. While she tilts towards the ground in the desired angle, it's on her own terms and not his: a twist and extended arm displace the weight from her foot an instant before Tairyu's foot slams into her ankle. "Nnf..."

In the next moment, though, her hips tumble across the ground, and in another split-second, the acrobat twists into a handspring, and then vaults back a good ten feet before landing.

And as she rises to her feet, clearly favoring one foot over the other, she stretches a baton overhead. A moment later, the flung diabolo strikes the taut string -- and Honoka swings the diabolo back into the rhythm of the beat.

"Hmm... there's more in your bag of tricks after all..." she comments.

She shifts her weight, working some feeling back into her numbed ankle as she continues to smile at her opponent.

"But... are you ready to stop holding back and actually -hit- me, again?"

Honoka smiles -- nearly on the verge of laughter as she starts to pace sideways, swirling the diabolo in a more intricate figure-eight pattern. With each step of walking it off, it seems she's getting more and more fired-up for the grand finale of this bout.

"I'd say the audience is hungering for a good show now."

COMBATSYS: Honoka holds fast, her wounds glowing with golden radiance.

[             \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Honoka           0/-------/-======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\1           Tairyu

[TAIRYU]
Hindsight tells Tairyu that he really should have experienced a professionally performing acrobat to not be bothered for long by disrupted balance. Still, there is a passing moment after the recovery of his sweeping foot where his stance leans back, watching for a counteroffensive. One that never comes.

Instead, what might sound like a taunt. It might even sound like bait to Tairyu. There almost certainly is some part of his brain that is telling him it is precisely that.

But still. There is something else. Maybe it is some line of tactical thought that goes to a completely different direction. Maybe it is an actual agreement with Honoka for the sake of the audience. Maybe it's something else.

Whatever it is, it leads to a slow, steadying breath, and...

"My apologies."

The next instant, a dragon is charging for her.

An explosive burst of speed has carried the yakuza up to her, one of his feet stamping down with a thunderous sound merely half a meter ahead of her. THe illusionary dragon coils around his right arm in a seemingly infinite loop, a spiral of azure chi in a prelude to an instant of motion. One knee bending to drop his posture lower in time with a burning fist launching out with nearly imperceptible speed, aimed for Honoka's center mass.

A sound like a gunshot rings out.

COMBATSYS: Tairyu successfully hits Honoka with Tiger Drop ES+.

[                     \\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Honoka           1/-------/=======|>>>>---\-------\0           Tairyu

[HONOKA]
What Tairyu may have considered a taunt or bait was, in truth, a pragmatic reading of the current situation. Tairyu had been relentless in keeping pressure upon the juggler, preventing her from establishing an effective zone of control over the temple grounds battlefield. She'd managed to prove that the kitten had fangs -- at the cost of burning out her energy reserves. Now -- with the match entering the end game, Honoka had made the decision to reinforce her boundaries while she regained her breathing room -- and if the challenge happened to goad him into striking, all the better.

Without hazarding an attack of her own, Honoka had hoped to marshal a stronger defense against the one attack vector she could count on -- a frontal attack. She's confident enough to smile in the face of the Dragon's charge, increasing the speed with which she sweeps her diabolo around in its figure-eight. The string glows with golden radiance, glittering stardust left in the wake of the rolling diabolo. And as Tairyu is -just- about to breach her defenses, Honoka flicks the diabolo airborne -- and the glittering figure-eight expands into a hemispherical shell, that abruptly shrinkwraps to her form like a second skin. With pursed lips, she braces both baton-wielding hands before her, clearly hoping to block...

But she underestimates his speed. Her defense is not raised in time. The golden armor cracks immediately from the punch, spiderweb fractures spreading out as the shell is shattered as surely as if it were frosted glass. A pained gasp escapes Honoka's lips as she folds like a jacknife, blasted backward off her feet -- but even being flung away won't save her from the fate of the azure Dragon's maw that tears into her, searing her skin from the inside out. Every neuron screams its pain to her simultaneously, creasing her forehead and bringing tears to her eyes.

She skids backwards -- sneaker treads scorching deep black tracks onto the brickwork as she manages to skid to a halt. But even as she brakes herself to a stop, she pitches forward, her aching body unwilling to go on without -some- sort of break. Teeth clenched, she catches herself with an outstretched hand, to keep from succumbing completely to the pain...

And, in credit to her earlier prognostication, the audience -did- love that. They share their enthusiasm with raucous cheering.

Honoka keeps herself low. She breathes through her clenched teeth. One might guess that she's seething -- but it's more that the dragonsfire blazing through her system has innervated her bloodstream with such heat that it's seized her muscles to some extent. And only through conscious -will- is she able to restore the balance needed to continue fighting.

"Be careful what you wish for," she starts, pausing to cough blood onto the brickwork. "... or you might just get it..." she finishes, with a chuckle.

Not long afterwards, a clack is heard -- the unclaimed diabolo, falling back to earth.

And in the very next instant -- the sound of Honoka's footfalls can be heard as she -tears- forward at breakneck speed.

The thing is... those same footfalls can be heard in three -other- directions, simultaneously. For where each of the three diabolos had fallen, there is now a blurry image of Honoka, running in similar style and pace to the real one before him.

The trick, though, is that they are not running -directly- at Tairyu, but rather aiming to blitz right -past- him, circling him in a dizzying spiral! It would become quite the challenge, with the psychic performer's deceptive speed, to discern which of the hazy images is real!

Her voice resonates from all directions simultaneously.
"An impressive gambit. But this fight will end soon -- one way or another!"

But one thing is sure -- for -all- of them are executing the exact same move -- a rapid upswing with her baton, chained into a backflipping kick, charged with a brilliant crescent of purple flame! But... which one of the four attacks will Tairyu choose to defend against?!

COMBATSYS: Tairyu counters Kamui Atemka from Honoka with Dragon's Tail ES.

[                            \\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Honoka           0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0           Tairyu

[TAIRYU]
It takes a second for Tairyu to get up from the lowered posture that helped carry the absurd blow. Truth be told, after soaking up the psychic energies his body is woefully unused to, that very same body is begging for a moment to let some of the pain fade away. It was very tempting to simply let his knee fall the rest of the way down from it's low-bent position, instead of drawing himself back to standing upright.

Another second after the rise, to catch his breath. But that's all he gives himself, despite the sweat gathering along bare skin. He's already taking a step to the direction Honoka was launched into.

"You did make a request of me," he offers in reply to her comment as he steps closer, giving a brief rub to the knuckles of his right fist with the palm of his left hand, warding off some of the soreness brought on by the herculean effort. "I could not deny it."

A third step. That's all he has the time for, before Honoka's up. Faster than he expected. But even though it was unexpected, he's quick to resume a defensive stance in a split second's notice, to receive the incoming assault...

But something even more unexpected happens. Three more Honokas appear.

His eyes flicker to one side, then the other, to take count of the situation with a mutter of "What kind of trick--" The kind of trick, clearly, that only gets worse for him with the next passing second. With the original passing by him and joining the mirages in a deceptive dance. He tries to keep track, but...

The four pivot in on him, weapons swinging in. There is but a fraction of a second to react. A fraction of a second to make a decision. No more than a fraction of a second, before he's spun around, with a rapid followup of footwork adjusting his positioning subtly amidst the trajectories of the four Honokas, with one hand reached out for one.

"There--!"

There is no reason for him to be certain of that declaration. No reason for him to be absolutely certain the one he has chosen is the real Honoka. It is a gamble. Even the way he shifts to receive the attack from the one he has locked onto is partially a gamble -- she is fast enough his aim is directed less by calculation and more by instinct.

The moment his palm touches the side of Honoka's upswinging arm, time seems to stop. The Yakuza left frozen amidst four opponents, three of them left in perfect positioning to strike into his weak points, left unguarded by his focus on the fourth.

But when time resumes... his hand finds something tangible to grab onto.

"Hhh--!!"

A pull, turned with a spin of his own body into a pull, to send this Honoka sailing just past him, and bring him nearly directly behind her. Just off-center enough, however, that when his body continues it's turn into a wild, spinning kick, his foot slams into the center of her back, accompanied with it by the azure dragon's glowing tail, swinging right alongside the offending limb into her like a flaming whip.

[HONOKA]
It's true -- she -had- made a request. But for her to ask for anything -but- an expenditure of his biggest, most bombastic... would be doing a gross disservice to the audience she treasures so highly.

No regrets, then.

It... was a gamble, admittedly.
But Tairyu's early aggression left the acrobat juggler with only three good cards remaining.
And not even matching ones at that.

One of those cards went towards making her illusions pitch perfect. Each diabolo was charged prior to the fight with a fragment of her soul energy, providing them with the necessary energy to yield the illusion of life, the small idiosyncracies to sell the illusion. Each doppleganger moved to the same beat of the same far-off rhythm. Each image was infused with a mimicry of the same violet flames that Honoka had sought to mete upon her opponent -- enough to fool the audience.

She'd hoped it would fool -him-. But the palm pressed against her waifish forearm proves otherwise. In that one shared second, frozen in time, he would see the very instant that her fiery determination turns into trepidation.

She's flung forward so swiftly that she can barely even register what just happened. She can -feel- him behind her. But before she can process that -- his foot propels her forward. An instant later, the scales of the Dragon's tail brand their infernal heat into her, charring the fabric of her clothing and leaving wispy streams of smoke as she sails forward. Her feet scrabble for purchase on the brickwork -- but her velocity is too high for them to matter.

By the time her legs touch down, it's too late -- she throws herself, shoulder-first, at the ground in an attempt to spare herself the indignity of a faceplant. Curled up from the pain, she sends a heated glare back at Tairyu, smoldering.

But, in a way, she's already gotten what she truly wanted from this battle.

The love of the audience. Their hearts -- fluttering and wavering. Their emotions, a heady ambrosia that she'd gone far too long without savoring.

The rage fades. She swallows a gulp of air into her breath. And she presses against the ground, lifting up her shoulders. Her bloodied mouth is the largest visible sign of distress; the bruises and burns are all but invisible beneath the scorched fabric of her jacket and shorts.

"One way, or another," she states, repeating her earlier prophecy.

She smiles broadly.

"I yield. Congratulations, Mr. Tairyu."

Honoka would take a bow. But that would require standing. So she opts to bow her head instead.

COMBATSYS: Honoka takes no action.

[                 \\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Tairyu           0/-------/=======|

COMBATSYS: Honoka can no longer fight.

[                 \\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Tairyu           0/-------/=======|

[TAIRYU]
The kick rebounds to complete Tairyu's spin, his foot skidding briefly on the ground before he settles to fully facing Honoka again. Reassuming his prepared fighting stance again, like it's second nature for him.

He watches her. Carefully stepping closer while his green gaze meets that glare. She might be on the ground, but she's already shown she can get up quickly, and make use of range that he lacks. Opponents like that are best to keep one's guard up with...

But that changes when she makes her yielding declaration.

A few more seconds pass to fully work tension away from his body, but once an official for the fight gives the signal from just beyond the limits of the arena, the illusionary azure dragon that has accompanied Tairyu in his movements through the battle fades away and out of sight.

After straightening up, he takes a few more steps closer, without any of the tension of the ongoing battle left over, before dipping himself into a bow. "Good fight, Kawamoto-san," he murmurs thus. "It was an honor to fight someone as strong as you."

These are not empty platitudes. There is a sincerity behind his voice that comes from true enjoyment of a challenge that was provided to him. If only he knew who he was saying that to.

"My apologies, though," he offers then, alongside a hand reached down for support, if she would take it. "For your jacket." Not that his own survived without irrepairable damage.

COMBATSYS: Tairyu has ended the fight here.

Log created on 09:36:03 09/03/2023 by Tairyu, and last modified on 10:08:45 09/10/2023.