A flaxen blur flying at the speed of light, murderous intent ready to slice his opponent in half. That was Hermit's current state, bloodlust consuming what little patience he had left with this wannabe feline. Did she think she could get away with this shit forever? Constantly assaulting his senses with her shrill voice, prying so much into his affairs when he had done nothing wrong? All because of a damned favor he never should've said yes to. The cat was scratching up the wrong tree, so to speak.
This is what Shirahama had to deal with? He'd pity the fool — if he weren't an annoying pest himself. Really, the cat and the gardener belonged together. They can irritate each other to death. Shirahama would deserve that fate, since this situation was all his fault.
These disparaging thoughts were what ran through Hermit's mind as his right arm rotated up and over his head, swinging like a wrecking ball with the intention of crushing the cat's face.
And as for the cat? She managed to dodge his swift knifehand, impossible to detect with the naked eye, by shifting her stance and rotating 90 degrees to the left through a simple stepping method — Kouho Haiho. But not without the side of his palm grazing her arm; the sheer force of his attack still left quite the burn, one she was not anticipating.
Shit, she mentally cursed. He was fast, much faster than she expected. How long had he been Uncle Sougetsu's disciple?! She learned martial arts as a baby; for him to be able to even touch her arm was rather impressive already. He's been training incredibly hard recently, hasn't he? Didn't he say he trains in that forest while his master's away? Well, Tanimoto's high prowess implied that perhaps Sougetsu had been present up until that day!
Meanwhile, she'd mostly been using mafia members and petty criminals as fodder to maintain her skills, but hadn't pushed for rapid improvement. Is Tanimoto trying to compete with someone?
Sure is. In addition to his secret involvement with YOMI — for which extensive training had to take place — he's got to have a rematch with that Shirahama idiot sooner or later. Hermit's loss in their previous fight between them has left him with a grudge that will never die.
The sheer thought of Kenichi further drove Hermit to continually pelt the cat with wrathful spearhands at breakneck speed, and she responded in turn by dodging rapidly, creating afterimages of herself at the pace she was moving.
Renka specialized in the softer forms of Chinese Kenpo — which meant that defensive strategies were heavily employed in her style, often taking the user's power and turning it against them in non-lethal ways. When Hermit once again attempted to lunge at her with swinging arms, she became malleable like water, shifting her stance once more to smoothly warp herself behind his back.
Hermit's bloodthirsty, frantic dash was the perfect catalyst to her next move; slipping her leg between his own, her hooked ankle meant to trip him at the high speeds that he was moving in. Or at the very least, disrupt his stance. At the same time, her other leg raised to slam her heel into the back of his neck — not with enough force to kill him, but to incapacitate only. After all, she was still a Katsujinken: those who follow the path of the Saving Fist. Killing would go against her moral beliefs.
However, Hermit possessed an unshakable balance with his low fighting stance, keeping him grounded from the cat's attempts to trip him up. When her heel attempts to crush his neck, he steeled his position, whirling around to face her with wild whipping arms. A hardened open palm clashed up against her incoming foot. And then he did it again, rotating the other way; the sheer force of his twisting hips provided him extra power, and his arm shot back at her with pointed fingers that were intended to blind her.
That's when she bopped his wrist aside with a slapping block. Pak Sau. Simple, yet effective. They made eye contact, intense stares burning deep into the other.
"Your fighting style reeks of my dishonorable uncle!"
Her words were no reason for him to stop. With his first hand failing to make contact, his other arm comes in, weighted hand swinging like a murderous pendulum. Another swift rotation of his hips ensured extra speed. Swinging arms that derive their power from the hips — such were the ways of Hikaken and Hakkyokuken, or as the Ma family more often referred to it, Piguaquan and Bajiquan. A lethal and dangerous combo. And the combo that Hermit specialized in.
His moves were still familiar to Renka in that they were rooted within the same base as hers.
But he was different. These hard forms he utilized indicated that he was not holding back. A follower of Satsujinken: the ways of the Killing Fist. He meant to snuff her out, right there and then.
Renka combatted his offensive strike with another soft move, her hand rising up through the center line of her body to redirect the path of his lashing palm, forcing it to slice the empty space next to her. That same defensive hand then thrusted forward to knock his chiseled chin with a firm open hand. Looks dainty, but hits like a freight truck.
He wouldn't take the hit so easily, though. Pulling the same maneuvering tactics as the cat from earlier within the fight, he shifted his stance to the side with a flawless Kouho Haiho. Renka's palm shifted right through open air. Now, he closed the gap between them by dashing towards her, side-first, arm bent at the elbow to jab her in the throat.
Renka quickly sank at the knees and leaned backwards to avoid the murderous elbow…
… Only for him to straighten his arm like a loaded spring, and the back of the hand walloped Renka across the cheek.
His expression remained deadly stoic, but his senses were on fire, dopamine coursing through his veins. Yes. He got a hit in against a member of the Ma family.
"You have some nerve to piss me off!" he declared, both arms proudly outstretched, palms upward.
Renka's face stung, and his comment only rubbed the salt in the wound. How was he this skilled? She can't let him get the drop on her!
"Me?! You're the one with the killing intent in the first place!"
His open palm dove in for her stomach; Hermit's surging confidence allowed him to think he could close the gap in time. But he could not, for Renka bent forward, keeping her stomach out of view as a palm slammed into his chest, aided by another palm atop the first. A blast of ki spurned from within her and through her arms, manifesting in an explosive blow.
"TANPA!"
A look of alarm washed over him, shocked azure eyes now fully visible as blonde strands were blown back. And then away his body went, tumbling through the forest. Her ki burned deep within his chest, and he could tell …
Dou. Same as his own.
Hmph.
He stood back up, powering through the pain. Compared to what his shitty master has put him through in recent weeks, this was nothing.
Renka's fist tightened. He's still not down, huh? Without wasting a moment, she marched ahead to seal the gap between them.
"You still wanna fight? Fine! Don't forget you're facing the heir to the Phoenix Alliance —"
"Shitty heir, then!"
Another knifehand from the infuriated Hermit, which was swiftly dodged as the cat ducked below to perform a low sweeping kick. He was knocked down… but he fell into a cartwheel, regaining his stance without missing a beat. But as soon as he rose back up, Renka performed a high kick, giving him little time to dodge (and an obligatory panty flash).
Whoosh. He managed to tilt his head back just in time, but the pressure of her powerful slice still created a deep cut across the bridge of his nose.
"— !"
Recovering from his backwards bend, he stomped back downwards, arms whirling around and fists coming together in an attempt to crush the cat's head. The ground beneath his foot shattered.
Renka raised both forearms to block, but he persisted, pushing down on her arms. A bit of a stalemate happened for a few seconds — infinity through the eyes of a martial artist. And that's when he led it into a sudden headbutt, from one hard-headed opponent to another.
Ouch. Not exactly what she was expecting, but it certainly disoriented her.
"H-hey, nyah!"
Shit. He was a formidable opponent. She'll have to take this rather seriously.
The sun had reached its lowest point before setting, transmitting deep shades of glowing sienna across the golden forest. And within it, two Chinese Kenpo practitioners continued in their dance to the death, encircling one another with open palms raised in front of their upper chests. Guard up. Tirelessly staring each other down with indignant glares, attempting to keep their exhausted breaths to a minimum.
But the truth is, they were reaching their limits. Bloodied, bruised, and suffering a significant amount of clothing damage. Especially Renka, of course; there goes another qipao down the drain. At least it still covered all the important bits.
Thus far, it seemed like Renka had the upper hand between the two of them — but only by a small margin. Hermit scowled, strategizing as he continued to stare down his opponent. He always seemed to be fighting martial artists that were one step ahead of him. But that was the fastest way to grow.
He sprinted towards the cat, performing an open palm strike that instantly led to a low drop, bending at the knee to allow his palm to crash into… well, the ground, for Renka had dodged. Another shattered spot within the fighting grounds, this time caused by his powerful Uryuu Banda. It looked like small meteors besieged that part of the forest with the sheer number of craters surrounding them, directly created from their skirmish.
The cat leapt into the sky in the midst of avoiding his attack, legs twirling around in a front flip. Her lithe form gracefully propped itself back upright behind him; her powerful core control kept all her landings silent.
Can't she ever hold still, thought Hermit, still momentarily unaware where she had gone for the moment. And from behind him, Renka began employing Kinna Jutsu against his arm — a restraining method meant to inhibit control by locking the joints. The weary cat was losing traction, and his endless persistence was a pain in the ass. If he could just stop trying to kill her for one second…
But her attempts are interrupted when Hermit performs Konraiyūshō, entwining his arm around hers to disable her. He used his free hand to jab iron fingers straight into her side, laced with all the ki he could possibly muster in that moment.
Shit! That hurt. And yet, she doesn't seem to be wholly affected other than the wince on her face, still standing, arm tangled within his. He was puzzled. He could've sworn it'd do more to her.
And before he knew it, her free arm maneuvered around to slam an open palm uppercut to the underside of his chin. Retrieving her ensnared arm while he was distracted from the blow, Renka used her newly freed hand to strike at her elbow and empower the hand beneath his chin.
Ma Style Takukousho! Dangerous to use on a weak opponent, as it could snap their neck and end their life in a jiffy. But Renka knew he was powerful enough to handle it, watching the blonde soar out of her grasp, dazed by the surge of Dou ki she had loaded in that seemingly final attack.
A brutal landing on his back knocked the wind out of him, choked grunts escaping his lips. His eyes were dull, on the precipice of being lifeless.
Renka approached his limp body as she wiped a splash of crimson off her cheek, feeling a million knives stab into every surface of her body.
"Are you gonna give up now? Stupid pretty boy! You really think you stand a chance against me?"
Within those soulless cerulean eyes were flashing images of a certain someone. Someone he was unable to save years ago. Someone he made a promise to.
No.
He can't lose…
Not to Renka.
No, he'll conquer her, and in doing so, level up in skill. Become a better martial artist.
In fact, he already expected more from a Ma!
Perhaps his hellish training was paying off.
Even more reason to find his master to continue to further his technique…
Renka surveyed his stunned, broken body. Was he still alert? Awake? He's just lying there. It was over, right? But she knew better than to let her guard down, even if she didn't expect much from him now.
"So… you're Hermit, the Sixth Fist of Ragnarok—" she started, looming over him.
Tch. So she figured it out, despite being a newbie to that damned Shinpaku Alliance, huh? A newbie to the entire country, even. It wasn't that surprising; it was only a matter of time, with how involved she was in the world of martial arts, and how everyone seemed to possess loose lips. So as long as she doesn't reveal his identity at school…
"— I thought you'd be a harder opponent to deal with, seeing as how everyone hypes you up… —"
Hermit's chest caved in, exhaling. An imperceptible vein throbbed in his temple. How dare she belittle him?
He didn't really want to do this. The special technique he had in mind was taught to him to defeat Fortuna. But it was necessary to end things right here, right now. To take the win.
. . .
From his position upon the ground, his right leg suddenly swept outwards to knock the catgirl off her feet, using that same inertia to prop himself back up on his knees.
"Wha—?!"
She was guarded, but apparently, not guarded enough. Now she was the one on her back, opening her eyes to see piercing blue optics coming for her, somehow both furious and frosty all at once.
He pinned her between his thighs, his face contorted with hatred, heavy breaths with each hit. Punch, punch, punch, punch—
And the flexible cat blocked, rolled, and slipped out from under him to stand upright on her feet again. This, however, didn't seem to slow down the endless barrage of attacks that he doled out.
"I thought you were gone! Just accept your loss already—"
Not even Renka knew her uncle's secret move and expected nothing of the following events. Hermit kept distracting her with several feints, forcing her into a defensive state, blocking vehemently.
And while she was focused on keeping her face safe from those chopping arms, two loose penetrating thrusts suddenly assailed her sides, and a third primary attack bore itself deep into her stomach. Seemingly innocent, but such moves had the destructive effects of a gamma knife, ensuring that the victim would suffer extensive internal injuries.
"…!"
… Renka pulled away from him. Those attacks seemed simple and shouldn't have done much. She did feel a bit weird, though, finding it suddenly difficult to catch her breath. She huffed, puffed...
"You — you satisfied now? Now that you had your little tantru—…"
Oh.
"NYAH...!"
It felt like her insides burst. Blood spewed from her mouth in a delayed reaction, the lagging impact sending her tumbling backwards and up against the trunk of a tree. She then slowly slid down, blinded by excruciating pain.
Such were the effects of Kyousa: Sougetsu Ma's ultimate technique.
He waltzed right over, looming over her with evil eyes.
"W-what did you—... no… 請..."
Blood trailed down her lips, the sight of him hazy.
With little hesitation, he wound his arm back with another knifehand and struck the back of her neck to render her unconscious. She did make a last minute attempt to block, but was far too injured to avoid the wrath of his palm. Her form lay across the ground unceremoniously.
….
Well. Shit. He just took down a Ma, someone that he should've been majorly disadvantaged against. Was she just rusty? It felt a bit like it. He did expect more. If her father was at Ryōzanpaku all the time, and Renka didn't seem to live there, was she even getting the training she needed? Furthermore, what would his master think about this?
Even though he should've been revelling in the victory, something about it felt hollow. He expected his win to feel sweeter than this. Instead, it carried an air of obligation. He won just because he couldn't lose.
And now that all the rage had drained from him, all that left was … disappointment. Disappointment in the fight. His choices. Her… looking like that.
"Tch…"
The sun had set behind the mountains, enshrouding the bloodied girl in darkness.
He forced himself to divert his gaze and started trudging away, his gym bag in hand.
But something was panging inside his gut, evolving from hollowness to a sinking sensation. Something like… guil— ugh.
Maybe because she's his master's niece, or maybe it was something else….
Gah.
"Damn it!"
Whatever it was, he ended up turning around and walking back.