Description: Having seen Hotaru go all out against Roberto even after the chat they had, Sakura wastes no time in confronting the victorious fighter in the aftermath of the violent match.
With two attacks the girl had turned the fight around. The finishing strike was nothing new. People had seen it before, the girl so well known for the routine that it had become the technique nearly everyone remembered more than any one aspect of her fighting style. A poweful surge in chi, drawing in heavily from everything around her - the air, the ground, herself, her opponent... culminating in a massive backlash of chi as she would release it against her pinned opponent. That was the knockout blow.
The strike before that was much different. Where normally her techniques had a sapphire blue hue to them, the chi she had used before had a red-orange color to it, the colorwheel opposite of her normal chi. And when it struck, it landed with a svageness that seemed horribly out of place in the light hearted bout between friends. It cut deep, thrashing flesh and destroying cloth, leaving a savage injury on the soccer player turned knight for the night.
Children cried, adults gasped, as the fight took an ugly turn for the worst all the sudden. And then it was over. The girl had stared at Roberto after getting back up to her feet, her face a blank sheet, a neutral expression that indicated neither guilt nor glee at her empty victory. And then staff poured in, to carry Roberto out and escort the immobile Hotaru out of the arena.
There was a parting glance over her shoulder after the young man before she looked away. How did things reach that point? Her left hand grips her right wrist tightly as she walks along, shoulders slouched. But the pain written on her face isn't one of anguish but agony at the burning ache in her arm
Sakura Kasugano was up in the stands through that fight. She'd been in a pretty good mood for most of it -- and was fairly pleased that Hotaru -seemed- to have taken her advice to heart.
Then... something happened. Sakura wasn't too happy about that. Her meal finished, she'd immediately started heading down to the facility's staging areas, even before that final blow had been struck. The security staff wasn't much of a problem once Sakura put on her headband: fame has its privileges. The one security guard that actually tried to restrain her was quickly and forcefully coerced to step aside; Sakura will be expecting a repair bill for that door later. Right now... she doesn't care.
What she does care about is talking to Hotaru. And that's why her goal places her directly in Hotaru's path, just outside of the jousting arena. Arms crossed, the Ansatsuken Angel has a very stern look about her as she glares back at Hotaru. "What snapped just then, Hotaru?" Narrowing her eyes, she adds after a moment, "Don't just answer /me/, explain it to yourself!"
The staff with her are quiet, giving Hotaru little to no feedback as to what the reactions were to how the fight turned out. But she can sense a certain awkwardness in the air, as if no one wants to get too close to her. What if something randomly sets her off again? What if she didn't work out whatever her deal was out in the arena and decided to lash out at the nearest warm body with that same savage chi she used on Roberto?
Her expression would be more guarded if she wasn't in so much pain, coping with the agony in her arm and the bruises and lumps gained by fighting Roberto with her head barely in the fight. But that all goes away the moment she notices someone familiar standing in the way. Coming to a complete stop, the staff around the girl back away, putting distance between themselves and the unpredictable fighter.
Eyes widening a little, the girl stares at Sakura, clearly shocked at seeing her. She... didn't know she was here, hadn't noticed her in the stands. This means that she saw... oh... no. "S-Sakura," the girl stammers, voice strained from pain and trying to recover her composure at this unexpected visit.
What snapped? "I... don't know. I-" She shakes her head, squinting her eyes closed, "I wasn't fighting clearly. I knew I couldn't beat him. Not with how bad I was doing. I just... I mean... t-they would have laughed if..." She swallows, before looking up again, expression hardening just a little. "I mean... I just did what anyone would do - I fell back on something I knew would work." she states, mouth tightening closed for a moment after fumbling for excuses.
"It doesn't matter," she continues, "I don't have to explain what happened. I kept him from thinking he could get the better of me." A certain dark glint in her eye lasts for only a moment before her composure weakens. "Y-you should just stay out of this, it isn't your business!" she snaps suddenly, left hand raised in a fist, her right arm resting limply againsther side the moment she releases it.
Sakura's expression had started to soften when Hotaru started speaking... jaw loosening, her arms shifting slightly. But when Hotaru starts to say 'they would have laughed', she's right back to the hard-edged treatment.
Breathing out with some measure of irritation, she shrugs her shoulders, ever so slightly. "No, you don't =have= to explain what happened. It was pretty darn obvious what happened!"
Pulling her arms apart, she angles a thumb at her sternum. "I'm =still= sore from our last match, and I only took one of those hits. Roberto'll be /lucky/ if he doesn't have to spend tonight in the hospital. And you think this makes you look =stronger=, Hotaru?"
As Sakura begins to speak, Hotaru lowers her clenched fist, standing up a little bit straighter, looking a bit less aggressive in demeanor. The Taiyo grad snaps back at her with equal vigor and the girl buttons up. And as Sakura mentions the lingering effects of the attack, Hotaru's eyes widen just slightly.
She knew it hurt like hell, and that it dished out savage damage, but... for Sakura to still be feeling something of it, even now? Roberto was really laid out by that, and it's not even the first time he's felt the tainted chi ripping into his body. The girl's defiance fades rapidly. "I-" she begins again, left hand back to clutching her limp right arm as she takes a step to the side, leaning her shoulder against the wall, looking all together exhausted.
"But before he-... He's a good fighter, he deserved the best I could dish out," she insists, though her protests are growing rather weak, her tone suggesting that she's having a hard time telling herself let alone the irritated Ansatsuken practitioner.
Kasugano unfolds her arms, so that she can gesture an open hand at Hotaru's limp right arm. "Your =best?= Yeah, =your= best. Didn't you say someone =else= gave you that technique? It's killing you, Hotaru -- it's a =demon= and you need to quit feeding it!" Irritably, she shakes her head -- not showing any signs of letting this blow over without speaking her mind. "I don't know =how=, I don't know =why=, but it's not good for you and it sure as heck ain't good for anyone that gets hit by it."
Stepping closer to Hotaru, she does adopt a calmer tone, but no less confident: "This is a sport, Hotaru... a darn violent one, but it's a =sport=, and people're supposed to be able to go on with their lives after it. You want to give him your best, show the audience your best... and we =all= do."
Kasugano stops just inside Hotaru's personal space, brown eyes levelling with the kenpoist's. "And I know you don't wanna lose face. But the stakes are getting =way= too high here. You wanna impress the audiences? You wanna show people how good you are... well, this ain't the way to do it!"
Someone else DID give her the technique, Hotaru muses... but she thought being able to use it was some kind of birthright. That being able to wield it meant she was special and that she shouldn't hestiate to prove that to everyone else. At the word 'demon', however, Hotaru's eyes widen again, the girl focused on Sakura, recoiling a little defensively. Especially as Sakura draws near, the girl takes a full step back at first, as if nervous about getting struck, her feigned confidence from moments ago bleeding off rather quickly.
As Sakura tries to put it into perspective, Hotaru's brow furrows, the girl bowing her head. A sport? It's her life. Nothing else matters. No one else-... The girl looks up as Sakura draws even closer, standing uncomfortably near. They're the same height and not even terribly different builds, yet the girl feels smaller than the headband wearing fighter all the same.
Feeling cornered, trapped by the other fighter who refuses to just butt out of the whole affair, Hotaru draws back one more step, left hand tightening back into a fist. The step forward into the punch comes from no where, like a trapped animal attempting to bite a benevolent hand, Hotaru's fist swings up and in from the side, a swift hook aiming to strike Sakura square in the center of her chest, high on the sternum, "Just leave me alone!!" echoes a shout along the walls of the hallway.
Perhaps more than anyone else, Sakura knows what it's like, growing up as a girl amidst the day-in, day-out fighting culture of Southtown. There's no bigger rush, no better feeling than going toe-to-toe with someone else, and coming out on top. Sakura herself can =definitely= appreciate Hotaru's position -- wanting to do her best against all odds, wanting to sacrifice everything to win.
Lucky for her, she had Ryu standing there, and most importantly, =refusing= to teach her unless she acknowledged that the study of Ansatsuken could inadvertently lead to the loss of her loved ones. She swore she'd never give in to the brutal instincts that had taken over the shadowy Akuma.
But Hotaru doesn't have the benefit of Ryu's guidance, not at this point in her life. She has Sakura, who is not quite as powerful. The Ansatsuken disciple wasn't expecting to come out of this confrontation unscathed -- even if it =did= come on the tail end of an already-brutal battle... but she is not invincible. When Hotaru slams a fist into her sternum, she -- as any red-blooded human would -- staggers back from it. She does stop advancing at this point, gritting her teeth and bearing the brunt of the impact as best she can without losing her resolve, or yielding to Hotaru's strength. "I'm here for you =as a friend=, Hotaru! Who else is going to stop you? When was the last time you saw your own master?"
At this point... Sakura's expression falters for a moment. Wincing, she looks down for a moment -- but just a moment. That =did= kinda hurt, partly because Hotaru managed to hit her in the same place her Satsujinken had a few days prior. "... nngh, fine. Whatever!" she spits, glaring back up at Hotaru. She's angrier again, sure... but holding her position, fists balled at her sides. "But think on this, for me. You think anyone's impressed with a bodybuilder that can bench-press so much they break all their bones in the process? I sure ain't! I call that 'pity'."
"So go on -- hit me if you're gonna! But I get to hit back if you do!"
The strike landing, Hotaru holds her ground, not aggressing into a second, follow up attack. In truth, it takes only a cursory inspection to see that she's in no condition to fight. Her clothing conceals the bruises inflicted by Roberto's attacks, but her right arm hangs uselessly at her side and just the conversation seems to be winding her, wearing her down as she continues to function heavily on adrenaline.
Sakura insists she's there as a friend, a claim that has to struggle against the paranoia that has been running strong in the young fighter's mind in recent months - a paranoia grown from the seed planted by Kataki's smooth words and manipulative power, only to be fueled by Hotaru's on fears. Her master is mentioned and Hotaru is quiet. Ryo, the Kyokugen fighter she had taken to studying under for much of the prior year. He had taught her much in the way of strength, endurance, pacing... Hotaru's mouth tightens, the girl staying put for the moment.
Sakura invites her to strike again, and while Hotaru says nothing for a long moment, and her eyes glare back at her, reflecting a desire to do just that, she holds her ground. She knows she can't fight the other girl. Not seriously. Even in her best of health Sakura is further along than she, and right now she's a far cry from healthy. Slowly she exhales, reaching over to grab hold of her right arm again, craddling it against her stomach as she leans back against the wall, catching her breath.
She starts to slip a little, the vigor from the previous adrenaline rush fading fast. "Sakura... I- I didn't intend to use it, when the fight started. Even in the middle, at times I... I wanted to, buy I held back. When it happened, I... the fight was over before I even realized what I had done..." Her tone changed, the fight taken out of her by exhaustion and a knowledge, on a very conscious level, that what she had done was way out of line finally breaking down her defiance. "I never thought I would say this... And... and it's no excuse, but... I couldn't help it."
Sakura tenses in preparation for Hotaru to strike. She expects it... even knowing Hotaru's state. She's fully prepared to engage Hotaru in combat -- but only if she brings the fight to her. Seeing that she hasn't...
"You can keep apologizing to me, Hotaru," Sakura states firmly, "but it's really just apologizing to yourself. And it's not even /starting/ an apology to Roberto." Drawing in her breath -- ow, that still stings -- she adds, "Or you can do something about it. Stop hurting =yourself=, and stop hurting =your friends=."
Kasugano withdraws a step, turning to leave. "Stop fighting, if you have to. I just can't stand seeing you destroy yourself like this, Hotaru.
She pauses, voice ringing with a note of finality: "And I won't =let= you do it again."
Drawing in another belabored breath, she turns her back on Hotaru, and walks for the exit. Free punches?!
Sakura turns and Hotaru is left behind, turning such that her back rests against the wall as she has to exhert effort to keep from simply slumping to the floor. Her right arm craddled once more against her stomach, she stares after the departing student, making no attempt to attack her as she goes.
Closing her eyes after a moment, she bows her head, releasing a long sigh. Maybe that's exactly what she should do, she ruminates. Stop fighting all together. If she can't keep it in check, then... Shaking her head, the girl opens her eyes and pushes herself off the wall. Staff staring at her continue to keep their distance as she finally stalks off to clean up from the match. No, simply quitting isn't an option. There must be another way...
Log created on 21:10:27 04/03/2008 by Hotaru, and last modified on 19:57:56 04/04/2008.