Chapter 44: Sparring with Steve

They didn't get back to London for a while, given the slight detour they took to take Victor to Lorraine. He'd grinned and eagerly hauled himself out of the truck, eyes already gleaming at the prospect of a fight. Yori remembered those years, when all she wanted was the next fight, something to unleash her ever-simmering core of anger on. Over the years she'd mellowed considerably, although a large part of her still liked a good fight. It was comforting in that it was familiar. She knew how to do it, she'd been doing it all her life.

In a way, she preferred fighting to talking. She could fight, she knew she could fight, she had decades of experience. It was talking that she was bad at. For so many years the only times people had spoken to her was to insult or belittle or ridicule her, and the only times she'd spoken back had been to snarl out retaliations and threats. Midori had been the one exception, and for so long, Yori had assumed she would be the only exception.

Then she found her calling – mentorship. She knew the horrors of the world so Yori could caution younger mutants against them. All she could do was share her story and help them become strong enough to defend themselves if her past became their future.

Then she found the Howling Commandoes. Men who knew what she looked like, knew what she was capable of, knew what she had done. They didn't hate her. They didn't insult her. They didn't ridicule her. They didn't fear her. They liked her. They teased her like they would any normal woman, they talked to her like she wasn't what she was and that was all she'd ever wanted.

More than that, she found Steve Rogers. Was it any surprise that she was so taken with him, she thought bitterly as she strode down the hall. She hadn't had much good in her life and then here came this man who was the embodiment of everything that was good. He was just and fair, kind and strong and brave and caring. He was smart and handsome, he was fun to tease. He spoke to her, looked at her, like she was normal. She shouldn't really be surprised that she fell for that.

Damned if she'd ever tell him though, for so many reasons. The most important being that his heart was already well and truly taken by Peggy Carter. Yori sometimes wished she could hate Peggy for that but she also counted the Brit as a friend. She couldn't hate the two of them for caring for each other. Put simply, Peggy met him first. She beat Yori to the punch, and that was just how it happened.

Another reason was because she didn't understand her own feelings. Yori wasn't so good with positive feelings. For a long time the only positive feelings she'd ever had were for other mutants. She'd gotten used to the idea that they only people she'd ever care about would also be mutants. In a way, Steve was that, but he also wasn't.

She knew she cared about him, and more than just as a teammate. Yori wanted him to be happy, wanted him to enjoy his life. That was something friends wanted, right? But she also wanted him to touch her, kiss her. Friends didn't want that. Then again, Steve was ridiculously good-looking, so maybe what she was feeling was simple lust. No, she'd felt lust before, this wasn't lust. She felt admiration and respect for him as her taichō, she'd figured that much out at least.

Brutish as it sounded, Yori preferred to just hit what she didn't understand and move on. If she could hit it then she could beat it into submission until it slunk back off into the shadows and she didn't have to deal with it anymore. She was good at beating things up, at killing things. She was literally evolved to be a better hunter than the average person and so that was the skill set she employed whenever she could. Meaningful conversations weren't her strong suit. They made her uncomfortable. But put a sword in her hand? She was unstoppable.

That's why she was glad to have a chance to spar with Steve. Maybe somewhere among all the punching and kicking and panting and sweating and perhaps even a little blood she'd figure things out. In battle, strange as it sounded, she was calm. She knew battle, it was familiar. She simply let herself flow and she came out on top. Maybe after a spar with Steve she'd come out on top of her emotions. Who knew? Maybe she was just attracted to his strength? Maybe if she knocked him around a little and proved he wasn't as strong as he seemed she'd be able to get over this whatever-it-was and go on about her life.

Yori was determined as she knocked on Steve's door one night. She'd chosen night for the fight so that they wouldn't be disturbed. Ordinarily she didn't mind people watching her spar, even encouraged it so that people could learn, but this time she wanted it to be just her and Steve.

Steve looked like he was about to head to bed, wearing sweats and a white undershirt that showed the rippling muscles of his arms and clung tightly to his chest and torso. He was barefoot and his hair was rumpled. If he weren't so large, he might have looked like a boy just climbed out of bed in search of a glass of water. It was sort of adorable.

Yori mentally slapped herself, crossing her arms, cocking her hips, and planting a smirk on her face.

"Yori?" Steve said in surprise. "What are you doing here so late? Is something wrong?"

Yori tilted her head and smirked wider. "You recall that I need to throw you into some things, correct?"

Steve grunted. "Yori, you're injured," he said, exasperated. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why Yori refused to just sit down and take a break. Most people would be glad of a respite after getting shot but no, she wanted to kick him for trying to take care of her.

"Am I?" Yori challenged, lifting the edge of her shirt and flashing him her side. There was a quarter-sized circle of raised, red scar tissue. The wound might have been months old instead of barely a week.

"Advanced healing," Yori purred as Steve politely averted is eyes from her midsection.

"I was just trying to take care of you," Steve tried to explain.

"I can take care of myself," Yori said coldly. Steve sighed. He'd just committed the cardinal sin with Yori – he'd cast aspersions on her abilities. Or at least, she thought he had.

"I know you can," he assured her. "I was just worried."

"Steve." Yori was amused. "I've been stoned, shot, stabbed… and, on one very memorable occasion, poisoned. A single bullet to the side will not even slow me down."

"Maybe not," Steve allowed, but he was getting a little frustrated at her. "But you don't seem to understand that you can slow down. You've got Josie, the rest of the team, me. If you get hurt we're happy to pick up the slack and let you focus on healing. We'd prefer it."

Yori blinked and he knew he'd thrown her for a loop. She wasn't used to having people to rely on. She was pretty terribly at relying on others, actually.

"If I need a break," she said slowly, "I will let you know. But I don't want you worrying about me."

Steve shrugged. "Can't help it. You're a member of my team. Of course I worry about you."

Yori's face fell ever so slightly. A member of his team. Yes, that's what she was.

A spark of annoyance flamed in her. He was supposed to be so great and wonderful but he couldn't even tell how much she cared about him. He couldn't see how much it hurt when he said things like that, how much it hurt when he looked at Peggy the way he did.

Almost immediately Yori felt bad. Advanced being though he was he was still human and he wasn't perfect, no matter what the media would have the American people believe of him. He could be as oblivious as the next person and he had a right to say how he felt even if she didn't want to hear it.

But it was the push she needed to remind her of the fight that she really wanted.

"Well I'm healed, so you don't need to worry about me anymore. Now what you need to do is spar with me," she said firmly. Steve sighed and dragged his hand across his eyes.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Steve, I once retrieved money from a man whose grandfather owed me a hundred yen," Yori said with a faint smile. "I am very good at holding on to things."

"Do we have to do this now?" Steve asked, glancing at the clock beside his bed and seeing that it was nearing nine o'clock at night. He would have preferred to get in bed. Then again, maybe a good workout before bed would wear him out and he'd sleep better. That was one good thing about sparring with Josie or Yori. The other guys tried, but the girls were the only ones who could really stand their ground against him in the ring.

"I'm awake. You're awake." Yori shrugged. "Why not?"

Steve didn't have an argument for that aside from simply wanting to get in bed, which he doubted Yori would care about. So he sighed and gave in, grabbing some tape and wrapping his knuckles as he followed her down to the gym and trying to ignore how mean it always made him feel to hit a woman over half a foot shorter than him, who he outweighed by at least a hundred pounds. Within one hit from Yori, though, he was usually reminded that she wasn't a normal woman.

Steve finished taping his knuckles and hopped into the ring. Yori paused long enough to pull off her shoes and socks and stretch upwards once before leaping up, flapping her wings, and soaring into the ring to face Steve down.

Steve observed Yori's stance, the one she always used. Her rear leg was bent slightly and the front was pointed, her toes only barely brushing the floor. Her hands were raised but instead of coiled like most people she just held them up, palms facing, and let her fingers remain loose. He'd never understood her stance, never seen anything like it, but he assumed there was a reason she used it so he didn't question her.

Yori assumed her favored cat stance to begin and waited with bated breath, eyes glowing, for Steve to make the first move. The silence stretched on and neither of them moved. Yori grew frustrated. He never could bring himself to throw the first punch, she didn't know why she even bothered.

She threw a punch that wasn't even really meant to connect. It was just to draw a reaction out of him and get him to start moving. As expected, he reacted, blocking her half-hearted punch. Yori abandoned the punch and turned that momentum into a jumping kick, her foot spinning around aimed for Steve's shoulder.

He dodged her kick easily and raised a knee towards her stomach. Yori dodged and he turned it into a kick instead. Her arm hooked down and around, catching his leg and throwing him away. Steve used the spin and turned into a hammer fist aimed for her temple. Yori ducked and again Steve tried for a kick, this time aiming for her lowered face. Yori smirked and bent back and around, catching his thigh and straightening. The muscles in his thigh pulled and caught as she forced his leg higher and higher. Yori easily swept his remaining leg and dropped to one knee next to him, one hand still holding his leg up.

Steve blinked as he hit the ground and found Yori kneeling next to him, her eyes glowing with an intensity that made his stomach flip nervously. She was threatening in a fight, and the expression she always wore definitely didn't make her any less unnerving. He always felt like prey. Her hand burned his thigh and he wondered if it was glowing green.

"That's one," Yori drawled. "I promised to throw you into two things as I recalled."

Steve groaned. He had no doubt she'd hold good to that promise. Yori released his leg and offered him a hand. Steve took it and she hauled him upright before taking a few paces back and settling into her stance again.

This time, Steve asked. "Why do you stand like that?" he asked, mirroring her and nodding to his pointed foot.

Yori raised an eyebrow and looked surprised. "Cat stance?" Steve didn't know it had a name but that seemed apt. Yori smirked, surprised he was interested. Up until now everything she'd seen him use in a fight was a mix of boxing and standard Army training. A few of the men had asked how she pulled off some of her more dramatic and flashy moves, but they quickly lost interest when they realized the kind of effort it took to make it look effortless.

"I'll show you," she purred, and Steve got the feeling he'd just walked into this cat's trap. "Take your normal stance," Yori encouraged, walking towards him. Steve did so, straightening up, coiling his fists, and putting his foot flat on the floor. Yori opened her mouth and he expected her to start lecturing. Instead, she dropped in a blur and swung her leg around. Steve dropped to one knee, his other leg extended out in front of him. Yori continued her spin, straightening as she went, and on her second revolution she grabbed a fistful of his hair and aimed her knee for his face, pausing an inch from his nose. Steve froze, startled.

"Two things," Yori said quietly.

Surprisingly, she wasn't enjoying sparring with Steve as much as she'd expected. He was her problem but beating him up wouldn't work because she felt bad every time she landed any kind of serious blow. When she walked into the room she fully expected to happily blow off some steam whaling on Steve and come out as free of these confusing feelings as she'd been when she'd first met the man.

That clearly wasn't going to happen.

Yori lowered her knee and released his hair. Unable to resist, she coaxed a few soft strands back into place before offering her hand. Steve was surprised by the tenderness and intimacy of the gesture but he supposed it was probably just because she was the one who rumpled his hair she felt she should be the one to fix it. That seemed like a very Yori line of logic to him. In reality, Yori was just selfishly indulging a minor fantasy of running her fingers through his hair.

"Now try the cat stance," Yori said, quickly turning away and returning to her starting position. Steve nodded and wordlessly assumed the stance. She eyed him up and down before nodding in approval. Again she came forward and swept his leg but it just jerked him a bit, it didn't send him to the ground. It didn't even really knock him off balance that badly.

"You see?" Yori asked once she'd straightened up from the sweep. "Your weight is all on your back leg so anyone who tried to sweep you won't be able to take you down. And if they try to go for your back leg, you can stomp to either block or hurt them. Then they're on the ground and you're in the advantageous position."

That made a lot of sense and it was sort of brilliant. Just by adjusting his stance a little he already had a little bit of an upper hand on his opponent.

Yori liked this. Teaching people how to fight was almost as familiar to her as fighting and it sat much better in her stomach than punching him. She found herself falling into a comfortable pattern as she motioned her intent to attack again. Steve dropped into a cat stance and Yori came at him in a sweep. Again it was ineffectual but this time she kept the fight going.

As Steve fought she began to pick out a predictable pattern, one she'd faced and overcome so many times that it was laughable. He was relying on his superior size and strength, throwing heavy punches and kicks and trying to stay close where he had a chance to overpower her.

"Stop that!" Yori said sharply, and smacked the back of his palm with the flat end of her tail. "You're fighting like an amateur! Any idiot facing down a woman or someone smaller will try and take them out with brute strength. You won't be fighting amateurs, taichō!"

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Steve countered, throwing another punch.

"It takes twice as much energy to swing and miss as it does to swing and hit," Yori recited, leaning aside from a punch and letting it sail over her shoulder to illustrate her point. "I have the advantage of being smaller and harder to hit. All I have to do is stay out of arm's length and let you wear yourself out." Steve drew back a fist to hit her. "Then, with one hit-" Yori dove under the punch and came up behind him, swinging around his extended arm and using it as leverage to haul herself into the air. She wasn't tall enough but with a little leap she was able to pull Steve into a headlock, her knees braced against the sway of his back for leverage.

"I win the match," Yori whispered in his ear, tightening her arms and cutting off the circulation to his brain for just a second to make a point of the position he was in.

"So how do I fight against that?" Steve asked. Yori let him go and slid down his back, striding from behind him and observing him carefully.

"Be smarter," was all she could say. "In a way fighting is like chess. You have to think more than one punch ahead. If you know something, chances are your opponent knows it too. Always assume your opponent is a genius until they prove they're an idiot. If you know that they can use their size to get behind you, plan accordingly. If you know they're faster than you, try to put them at a disadvantage. Of course, they may realize what you're doing. That's where fighting becomes mental."

"It sounds unrealistic, keeping all of that in your mind at once," Steve reasoned. "Especially if you have teammates to keep track of as well."

Yori shrugged and lowered her eyes, still pacing around him. "Either it becomes instinctual through practice or you have it conditioned into you. It's just a matter or learning a new way to think."

Here was one of those moments were Steve caught a glimpse at the deep well of emotion Yori kept hidden, the soft, mournful way she spoke of having that way of thinking conditioned. He was pretty sure he knew which way Yori had learned this lesson.

"Then of course," Yori continued breezily, "there is-" She spun into a vicious kick aimed at his size. Steve jerked in surprise and caught her leg in both hands. Yori surprised him by letting out that shriek she could make that was a mix of demonic and avian right in his face. He staggered back in surprise and she lightly punched him on the shoulder in rebuke.

"Surprise," Yori said with a faint smirk. "It sounds cliché, but you should expect the unexpected, especially if you're fighting a mutant or someone like you, someone enhanced. When you walk into a fight with another person they aren't going to give you a dossier of their skills so you can plan how to fight them effectively. That's a particular disadvantage fighting someone like Josie or me. Obviously I can fly and I have a tail, but you don't know how I might use my tail." Her hands glowed green as she held them up. "You wouldn't know about this until I chose to reveal it and by then..." She thrust her hands forwards. Her glowing fingertips stopped an inch from Steve's chest over his beating heart. The electric sort of buzz coming off of them made him shiver as she finished, "it's too late."

"So what if I do fight someone who has wings?" Steve asked her, examining her own. "Why couldn't they just fly up into the air with a machine gun and start raining down bullets? Why don't you?"

Yori huffed. "Because wings are also a disadvantage. What's easier to hit, this?" She stood in front of him, arms and wings tucked in. "Or this?" She spread her wings wide, displaying a target more than double her usual size. "If I'm shooting at someone chances are good they'll shoot back and if I'm flying I'm an easy target. Nothing hurts quite like an injured wing and if I go down then I have the added problem of gravity," she said pointedly.

Her wings flared and she battered him with them, buffeting wind into his face. It wasn't painful but it was definitely disorienting and he didn't doubt that if she actually chose to hit him with her wings it would definitely sting.

"On the ground wings can be another weapon," Yori explained. "Or they can be a disadvantage."

"How so?" Steve asked, fascinated. Yori had literally a century of experience fighting and she was a good teacher. She laid things out well and she knew what she was talking about, it was easy to read in her confident posture and her skill in demonstration. She was fascinating to listen to, and it as clear she actually enjoyed the topic from a purely theoretical standpoint as much as she enjoyed it from a practical standpoint. He'd never really considered a woman having a violent hobby the same way a man might box as a hobby, but if he had to guess he'd just fount Yori's favorite pastime.

"A similar problem to being in the air," Yori admitted. "More surface area means more places to grab and if you can get your hand on someone's wing you can really ruin their day."

"How?" Steve asked.

Yori winced. "Break it. Break the wing and trust me when I say they will drop. They won't be getting up any time soon either. Wings are heavy. It would be like breaking an arm and having a weight hanging off the broken part."

"How would you break a wing?" Steve asked curiously, hoping he'd never have to use the knowledge. But he knew a woman who pulled out her ribs routinely, a young boy who could crush metal in his palm, a man who had retractable claws, and a couple who manipulated light and shadows. There was no telling what other kinds of people he hadn't yet met and there was no guarantee they'd all be on his side.

Yori hesitated. She didn't like the idea of teaching Steve mostly because she was a hands-on teacher. Teaching him hands on meant that her wings would be the stand in they used and she didn't like people touching her wings. It wasn't an arrogance thing, like many people suspected. She was proud of her wings, sure, but it was more that her wings were incredibly sensitive. That was why getting hurt there was so painful. They were also very personal. For whatever reason in her mind having someone grab her wings without asking would be the same as a man slapping her on the rear as she walked past.

Yori took a deep breath. "Alright," she said, and stood in front of Steve with her back to him, flaring her wings slightly so that he could get a good look at him. "The membrane is relatively fragile, so if you can get a grip on the edge you could tear it like paper with only a little effort and that would effectively ground the person."

Steve hesitated. He'd seen Yori snap at Falsworth for touching her wings before and he knew she stiffened up and froze whenever Josie grabbed them in a spar. But the way she was standing was a definite invitation to touch and he was admittedly very curious. He itched to find out what they felt like.

"Can I touch?" he asked, and Yori blinked, surprised but pleased that he'd actually asked instead of getting grabby.

"Yes," Yori breathed. Steve carefully trailed his fingers down the membrane to find the edge of it and Yori tensed slightly and had to bite back a moan. She'd given him permission to try out a battle move on her wings, not to caress them. How was she supposed to keep it together if he was pulling things like this?!

Steve was fascinated by the texture. It was like the softest, smoothest, thinnest leather he'd ever felt. He could faintly feel her heartbeat pumping through the membrane if he really focused and up close he could see the faint tracery of veins, usually obscured by the dark color. They were warm with her body heat too. It smacked Steve in the face that he was touching her, not her wings, but her, and suddenly that one long touch he'd allowed himself seemed incredibly presumptuous.

Yori was incredibly glad Steve didn't play around anymore and got back to business, grabbing the membrane between both hands and pulling ever so slightly. Yori winced.

"Okay!" she said edgily. "You see? It's very fragile."

Sensing that he'd hurt her, Steve immediately dropped the wing. Yori was grateful as she continued to explain, "You can grab the bone and break it obviously. You could force it against something but the bones in a wing will likely be hollow, so you could probably break them with your bare hands.

Wary of hurting her now, Steve took a hold of the skeletal structure that supported her wing and felt it. The bones certainly felt fragile in his hands, he mused, thin and light. He wagered it wouldn't take more than a quick flick of his wrist to break one of Yori's wings and he began to understand what Yori said about them being a disadvantage. He also began to realize why she didn't want people to touch them. Someone coming up and grabbing at her wings was about the same as someone coming up and grabbing at her throat.

"Final lesson on fighting someone with wings," Yori said, forcing her voice not to squeak as Steve lightly pressed and felt along the bone. This was a sparring lesson, damn it, this shouldn't be winding her up as much as it was! Over a century of celibacy did horrible things to a person…

"Grab both of them by the bones," Yori instructed, and Steve did so. "Now, from here you would normally pull them together but I beg you not to try," Yori added hastily. "It overextends the muscle and there's a horrible pulling feeling right between my wings that hurts like nothing I've ever felt."

Quickly Steve let go of the wings and Yori turned around to face him. He was surprised to see that she was red faced and her eyes were dilated a little. Apparently this was more painful than he thought. Immediately he felt bad for even asking. She'd been nice enough to explain and he'd hurt her. She hadn't even complained.

"That was really interesting," Steve said. "But I'm really going to get to bed now. Big day tomorrow, ah…" With that he beat a hasty retreat back to his room, feeling like a terrible person. Yori sagged back against the ropes and buried her face in her hands.

"I am in so much trouble," she said to no one in particular.