The Fall of a Gentleman
Dudley picked himself off the ground. Again. This is why only gentlemen should be involved in the sweet science. His uncouth opponent was coming towards him. Still. Dudley reached into the depths of his reserves and unleashed an attack that should have annihilated his opponent. His ungloved fists rushed past his opponent's defenses, impacting the jaw, nose, ribs. His hardened knuckles split the skin, spilt blood, but he still could not knock down the Ansatsuken fighter. Some thought that the style was called Shotokan, but that was a weak, non-deadly style. Ansatsuken could kill. Dudley had no doubts that his opponent meant to kill him, unlike at the start of the fight.
The fight had started unexpectedly. There had been no formal challenge, no placing of gentlemanly bets, no time to prepare. Tea time had been what he was preparing for, not a fight to survive. Dudley had not fought without his gloves for over three years, and for another eight before that last incident. Perhaps it is for the better. I can do more damage without my gloves, but this brawling is far from a gentleman's fight. But if this is not a gentleman's fight, I am freed from the restraints that comes with being a gentleman. The kick that got past his guard bent Dudley over double, setting him up to receive a left cross to the head. A plan for survival began to form, but necessitated a change in location. Dudley began to fall back towards his garden. Sensing a retreat, his opponent rushed in to prevent an escape. Dudley responded with a low blow that would have reduced most men to vomiting wrecks, but again his opponent absorbed the damage without falling, folding in half, but it was the grunt of pain that was hope for Dudley. If you can damage him, he can be stopped. He can be stopped.
Taking advantage of the moment, Dudley dropped an elbow into the back of his opponent's head, then swiftly brought a knee up to his face. The break in Dudley's decorum seemed to stun the fighter before him more than the damage taken from the unusual combination, and Dudley took full advantage. Rolling Thunder! Blow after blow thudded against his opponent, then finally knocked him away and down. Pausing to rest and revel in the fact that he wasn't the one picking himself off the ground for once in this fight, Dudley watched as his foe got to his hands and knees, then turned and ran to his garden. It was not worth waiting to see the fighter stand and shake off the effects of a technique that had caused many others to keel over.
Dudley had no delusions of running away from Akuma. His ki signature was too imprinted in Akuma's face and body to hope complete escape. So he stood at the crossroads just inside the entrance of his garden, surrounded by high walls of plants that were not yet in bloom. He had always loved the blossoms that were his mother's favorite, the roses, the most royal of all flowers, and he had quite a collection of them. Beautiful, fragrant, and ready to defend those qualities against invaders. Here I make my stand. An honest man, Dudley did not deceive himself with hopes of defeating Akuma. Akuma was not holding back, as in the past. Fully powered and with full effort, he was nigh unto unstoppable. But, as the Good Book says, 'the race is not always to the swift, the fight is not always to the mighty, but time and chance are involved in all.' Perhaps if fortune smiles upon me, and turns her back on him… Who knows?
Dudley rested, allowing his boxer's stamina to revitalize him. But all too soon, before the time between rounds in a boxing match would have been complete, Akuma stepped into the garden. Akuma skipped forward with a punch, and the two warriors traded blows until Akuma's superior endurance began to show. Dudley sensed a swing in the momentum as Akuma began to land more and more blows, and resorted again to his back alley roots, before he regained his family's honor and wealth. A stiff thumb in the eye stopped the assault, and allowed Dudley to pick his opponent up to throw. Even half blinded, Akuma drove a knee home to Dudley's kidneys as he was being flung.
Akuma flipped over in the air to watch Dudley sink to one knee, grimacing at the pain in his back. Making sure his feet were beneath him, ready to charge the opening given him the instant they touched earth, Akuma felt pain instead of the English soil. Dudley looked up from his resting position on the ground at the brief scream that had come from Akuma. His throw had been true; Akuma was not even visible, having flown into the thickest of the thorn-bearing rosebushes. Dudley had worked for all that he had, including his rose garden. Knowing that the rose stems and branches bore thorns that went through even the highest quality work gloves, Dudley knew that Akuma could not move without being wounded a thousand times more by the indifferent plant.
A sudden flux of Akuma's ki brought Dudley once more to his feet, covering his face to protect it from the flying pieces of flora. Dudley was not sensitive to ki, but the amount that Akuma used to demolish the plant was not possible to miss. Akuma was much changed for the worse for his trip to the rosebush. His gi hung in tatters, rips and holes decorating the plain red garment, each being soaked to maroon with Akuma's blood. Akuma stalked out of the planter, fury covering his features more than ever. Dudley moved forward to meet the approach of Akuma, charging up for another attack, praying that rage had blinded Akuma to his surroundings again. When Akuma froze, looking down at his foot that had just been impaled by a dozen thorns from a stem blasted off the rosebush, Dudley took advantage again.
Dudley threw his weight, his ki and his skill into the hit, calling out the move's namesake this time. "Corkscrew Blow!" Akuma flew parallel to the ground, and into the sister of the plant he had just come out of. Dudley heard a scream of rage and not of pain this time, but still took hope that Akuma had been hurt again. Dudley could see into the rose bush dimly as Akuma stood, cursing the thorns and pain, but this time did not blow the offending plant to bits. Akuma's image brightened with a blue glow to where Dudley could see him clearly, then he was coming out out of the rosebush without disturbing it. As he was teleported through, Dudley whirled with a backhand to where Akuma would probably end his Ashura Senku.
But Akuma had teleported just out of range of his fists, and caught his wrist. Dudley felt himself being lifted in the air as Akuma attempted to return the throw that had landed him in a rosebush, but managed to plant both his knees in Akuma's back, driving him face first into the ground. His left hand still gripped by Akuma, Dudley drove blow after blow with his right into the back of Akuma's head, where the neck met the skull. If he would have had just one more good burst of ki, Dudley could have finished off Akuma. But he was at the end. Everything he possessed had been spent to get him this far. With nothing but aching and bruised muscle, he held Akuma down and pounded at his head, trying to will the skull to cave in under his fist.
Akuma growled with frustration, then pulled Dudley's hand under him. Dudley screamed in pain as his wrist was snapped by Akuma's strength and leverage. Ripping the injured appendage out of Akuma's grip, Dudley scuttled backwards, cradling his broken wrist with his good hand. He sensed that he was being circled, and looked up in time to receive an enraged Akuma's Messatsu Gou Hado full in the chest.
The reason for Akuma's circling became appearant as Dudley shot through one massive rose bush, then another, getting tangled up in the third. Ribs were broken from the Hado; blood started soaking through what remained of his clothing. Painfully making his way out of the bush to the pathway, he was almost able to ignore the new injuries sustained from getting out of the thorns. Looking down to his body, Dudley noticed that he held the most perfect rose in his good right hand, an early bloom that had started deep in one of the rose bushes, protected by the rest of the plant. I suppose I have at most ten minutes to live at my current rate of bloodloss. I have had a good life. I reached my goals through hard work, and a little luck too. My only regret is that I will not see the rest bloom.
Feeling Akuma approaching from a ways off, Dudley decided some last words were in order. Reflecting on his life, he composed his thoughts. Looking up, Dudley saw Akuma standing a few yards away, gloating over his victory. "I could complain at the shortness of my life. But no one is guaranteed long life, not even you, Akuma." Drawing a breath, Dudley continued. "My life may be short, but I lived long enough to know that right comes out right. I will be avenged." Dudley watched the anger in Akuma's eyes reach new heights, then dropped his gaze to the rose he held in his hand. I will not have my last vision of this earth be one of Akuma.