The readers can have a little NSFW, as a treat.

At noon on the first day, everyone met for lunch. K'nsi and Cocotte arrived soaking wet, draped in kelp, and carrying a massive dead fish for Robo-Chef to transform into a cornucopia of dishes. Dyspo and Hit came through the doors five minutes later, drier but decidedly more bruised.

"Look, K'nsi grew some hair!" Dyspo reached down and plucked a long, slimy strand of algae from the smaller Pride Trooper's head. "Oops, never mind, you're bald again."

"If you're going to make fun of my luscious mane, you're not getting any of the fish we caught," K'nsi said.

Dyspo's ears twitched. "Fish? We could eat, huh, Hit?"

"Hit can eat. He respects my style. You can find your own fish," K'nsi replied.

Dyspo dropped the algae back on K'nsi's head. "There's your toupee back. Now where's lunch?"

Lunch consisted of fish served in ways to fit any palate from the adventurous to the picky toddler. As he explored the offerings, Hit found preparations he'd never encountered before. Which didn't mean his universe didn't have them, just that he didn't frequent dining establishments that over-relied on flavored foams and mousses of dubious consistency.

"Wow, this mouthfeel is…something else."

"It's so good grilled. I call dibs on the last piece!"

"I think this might be the swim bladder. Chewy."

While the Pride Troopers discussed the food and their private banalities, Hit sat back and closed his eyes. He devoted a small portion of his concentration to the surrounding conversation, just in case anyone mentioned something interesting or tried to involve him. The majority of his focus was reserved for battle planning.

Did that entail reliving his brutal defeat at Top's hands? It did. Did it entail watching Top catch his fist in the nick of time over and over again? Unfortunately, yes. Did it entail remembering in exquisite detail how it felt to-

There was a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him. Hit blinked and found Dyspo looking at him with concern. On the opposite side of the table, the other two Pride Troopers were doing the same.

"You okay?" Dyspo asked.

"I'm fine," the assassin answered automatically.

"You looked like you were in pain. I called your name a couple times and you didn't answer."

So much for keeping an appropriate focus on the people around him. Though it was understandable that a fight to the death was more engaging than hearing how fish cheeks were the tastiest part of the animal.

"I was image training," Hit explained.

"I think we've all tried that at least a few times. I suck at it, but you must really get into it," Dyspo said.

"For all the centuries I've practiced it, I better have something to show."

"I wonder if I could get my act together if I had that long… Eh, probably not. I'd just keep slacking off and finding other things to do."

Hit cracked a smile. Dyspo returned it. His hand continued to rest on Hit's shoulder.

"Does anybody want more sashimi or can I finish it?" K'nsi asked.

"You go ahead and enjoy it. Hit and I are gonna get back to training," Dyspo said.

Once they were gone, Cocotte repeated "training" with accompanying air quotes.

One hand stroked his ears while the other attended to...elsewhere. The double stimulation was everything Dyspo had hoped it would be and more. He writhed against the solid body behind him, the heavy fabric of Hit's coat cool on his bare skin.

"You're not going to last long like this," Hit observed.

"Believe me, I have zero problem with it," the Pride Trooper replied.

"That kind of attitude won't help with endurance training."

Dyspo's moan had nothing—or at least very little—to do with the rhythm of Hit's hands. "I can run around this entire planet ten times and not break a sweat. My endurance is peak already."

The application of a single thumb to the most sensitive area on Dyspo's ears proved his "peak endurance" had a glaring weak spot. The Pride Trooper gasped as his entire nervous system was struck by lightning.

"Do that like three more times. Please, I'm not too proud to beg."

Hit resumed rubbing his original patterns on the rabbit's ears. Dyspo cursed the assassin's ancestors back seven generations. Hit's reply was to still both hands and wait for the inevitable explosion.

For a warrior of justice, Dyspo could swear like the bawdiest of pirates. Especially when the reason for his anger was Hit frustrating him at the most inopportune and unfair times.

"Why can't you just finish what you start without all the bullshit?! You are the worst big spoon in history!"

Ouch. Hit couldn't let that insult stand. Two firm tugs put a swift end to Dyspo's complaints. A gentler touch soothed any remaining fury from the rabbit. In no time he was melting, all righteous indignation forgotten.

"I take it back. You're still an asshole, but you're a great big spoon."

Honor restored, Hit was obligated to give Dyspo what he wanted. In quick succession, the assassin rode his thumb along the delicate musculature at the base of Dyspo's ears. Since he only had one hand to work with, he was forced to switch between the ears until both sides had been stroked three times.

Dyspo's head lolled drunkenly. It was so good and he was so close. If Hit had been able to handle both ears at once, it surely would have been enough. Not that the Pride Trooper wanted to lose the contact provided by Hit's other hand; the job it was doing was more subtle but no less appreciated.

"More?" Hit asked, knowing damn well what the answer would be.

"Either that or just kill me."

"Tempting either way."

Hit opted for mercy, both for the Pride Trooper's life and for his sanity. The assassin's skillful hands began to move faster, one striking low and one high. Caught in the middle, Dyspo never had a chance.

Dyspo had been too drained to stay awake for cuddles last time, but this time he was determined to hold off his traditional post-coital nap until he was satisfied. Luckily for him, the world's deadliest big spoon was in the mood to cooperate.

Snuggling with Hit was kind of like snuggling with a mountain. The assassin was as silent and as strong as stone, a monolith Dyspo could nestle against to his heart's content. As an added bonus, Hit knew exactly how the Pride Trooper liked to be held and petted. His fingers lightly massaged Dyspo's ears, the touch calming instead of arousing.

Hit kept stroking the rabbit until his breathing was slow and punctuated by the occasional soft snore. Once it was clear Dyspo was asleep, Hit trailed his hand down to the Pride Trooper's waist and let it come to a rest there. He made a few more minute adjustments to his positioning and then settled in. With Dyspo lying across his left arm, it wasn't like he was going anywhere until Dyspo either rolled over or woke up.

Trapped as he was, Hit needed something to occupy his time and his mind. He was just about to engage in another session of image training when a loathsome intruder made its reappearance. The impulsive thought from his first day on the planet found its way back, despite how thoroughly Hit had tried to squash it.

Their bodies did indeed fit together beautifully.

Their clashing fighting styles, stratagems, moralities, and general personalities also, for some absurd reason, fit together beautifully. Hit supposed the old expression "opposites attract" had stayed around as long as it had because it was true.

The assassin sighed and closed his eyes. What had he gotten himself into? His head-space was now such a mess there was no way he could accurately stage a fight with Top. He had one day, plus the dwindling hours that remained in the current day, to prepare for a rematch against a man who had completely annihilated him, yet all he was doing was lying in bed!

"Okay, I'm up, I'm up. You can stop tickling me now."

Hit blinked in confusion. "Tickling?"

Dyspo tapped the hand that sat just above his hips. "This is probably my number two tickle zone. I won't tell you what number one is so I don't have to worry about you using it against me."

"I didn't mean to tickle you," Hit said almost defensively as he pulled his hand away from the rabbit's sensitive spot.

The Pride Trooper sat up and had a long stretch. "I believe you, but what were you actually doing?"

"I think I was clenching my fists." Hit drew his newly liberated left arm to his chest in case Dyspo decided to lie back down.

"Was it because you were image training again? That seems like it gets you pretty riled up."

"That was the plan, but my mind was...distracted."

Dyspo turned himself around and faced the assassin. "By what? You're one of the most focused people I know, so what was it that threw you off your game? Were you thinking about Top?"

Among other things. Though Top was a safer, easier answer than trying to explain the whole truth.

"You know, he might not even fight you," Dyspo said.

"I can be persistent," Hit replied.

"That's not going to matter if he has important Destroyer shit he needs to take care of after he's done here. Or if he just straight up doesn't want to spar with you."

"I'll challenge him on his honor, one warrior to another."

"You'll get your ass handed to you again if you press your luck and piss around with Top's honor."

"I appreciate the warning, but what I would appreciate more would be you putting your uniform back on and meeting me outside. Unless you're still too exhausted."

Dyspo shook his head. "It wasn't a long nap, but it was a pretty good one. I'm ready for some tussling."

Hit trusted the rabbit could dress himself without supervision. He headed out the door, never catching sight of a completely naked Dyspo trying to fish his boots out from under the bed.

Having successfully found all his clothes, Dyspo joined Hit a few minutes later. The assassin was standing in the middle of the training grounds, hands in his pockets. He acknowledged Dyspo's arrival with a slight nod.

"What's on the agenda?" the Pride Trooper asked.

"Something you'll enjoy," Hit replied.

"Will I like it more than that thing you did with my ears? Because that was hot."

Hit blushed, which was also something Dyspo enjoyed immensely. "I don't think you'll climax from it, if that's the standard you'd like to set."

"We don't have to set the bar that high. Just tell me what you want and I'll see if it sounds fun."

"Blitz me. Come at me as hard and as fast as you can."

Dyspo whistled. "Yeah, that sounds plenty fun. I'm gonna knock you on your ass."

Hit slipped his hands from his pockets. "Whenever you're-"

The assassin side-stepped, avoiding Dyspo's attack by millimeters. He'd had no forewarning the Pride Trooper was going to charge, just an understanding of his psyche. Dyspo wouldn't squander an opportunity to surprise or fluster his opponent, especially if it also gave him the chance to be a bit of a bastard.

"Sorry about that, were you still talking?" the Pride Trooper asked. "Hope it wasn't something important."

"Jumping the gun would see you disqualified in most competitions," Hit replied.

"I'm just giving you what you asked for. Let's see you dodge this one!"

Hit silently thanked Dyspo for the warning. It gave him a chance to set his snare and brace for impact. What kind of impact, Hit wasn't sure. He'd never tried to capture something moving at such extreme speeds. He had no idea if freezing time would cancel out the rabbit's momentum, or if he'd even be able to successfully lock the Pride Trooper at all.

Dyspo bolted at Hit again. Only instead of zeroing in for the kill, Dyspo slammed on the brakes. Still well out of range of Hit's trap, the rabbit dug both heels into the ground. He spent the remainder of his speed cutting as sharp a turn as he could, scratching a wide parabola into the soil, and kicking up a small tsunami of topsoil, grass, and surprised terrestrial insects. Said wave of airborne debris was aimed at one target.

Hit barely had time to close his eyes and turn his face before he was inundated. Not even the high collar of his coat could offer total protection. Dirt (and probably a bug or two) made its way into places it was never meant to go.

Taking full advantage of both Hit's distraction and the concealing dust cloud, Dyspo launched himself at his opponent. Before the assassin could mount any sort of defense, he caught two light-speed feet to his midsection. Hit was thrown backwards, his body bouncing like a skipped stone. When he finally came to a rest, he had no choice but to concede that Dyspo was right: the Pride Trooper had indeed knocked him on his ass.

"You're not the only one who can play 3-D chess," Dyspo said, jogging over to the assassin. "I knew you were up to something. I'm not stupid enough to believe you actually wanted me to run you down."

"You're not stupid at all." Hit punctuated his words with a sneeze that shook a puff of dust from his clothes. "That was a clever diversion."

With a grunt, Hit got to his feet. He then began to undo his coat.

"I don't know where this is going, but I like it," Dyspo said.

"Get your mind out of the gutter. I can feel something crawling on me," Hit replied.

"Never mind, I hate it."

Hit spent the next few minutes shaking out his coat and brushing dirt from his bodysuit and skin. Once he was as clean as he was going to get without a shower, he slipped the coat back on and secured it.

"I don't know if my favorite part was me winning or you stripping. Definitely wasn't the part where the spider fell out of your sleeve," Dyspo said once Hit was fully dressed.

"Let's try it again, this time without the dust bath," Hit said.

"What if I'm too quick and you can't freeze me? What are you gonna do against Top?"

"I'll just trap him while he's speechifying."

"Answer for everything," the rabbit muttered under his breath.

Louder, he then said, "I'll make you a deal."

Hit looked at him, attentive.

"Let me talk to Top before you go throwing down challenges or doing anything that's gonna end with-"

"Hakai?" Hit provided.

"Yeah, that. I'll emphasize low stakes, nobody dies, friendly competition. Two warriors honing their skills in honorable combat. I'll even ask him to do it as a personal favor. But if he says no, you drop it. Go challenge, I dunno, that chunky cat from your universe or something."

Hit mulled it over. Not the part where he wasted his time on Champa, but the rest of the proposition.

"Thank you, I accept."

"Awesome, that's a load off my mind. I'm ready to get back to it if you're ready to face total defeat. I'll come at you with no tricks and no dodging, but if you don't freeze me, I'm gonna hit you when I'm in range."

That was fair and an extra incentive to get it right. Hit nodded at the Pride Trooper's conditions. "If you're done bargaining, let's stop wasting daylight."

Dyspo pursed his lips. "Well… I might want a few more things."

"You're not getting them. Go."

The two squared off, ready to make the most out of the remaining hours before Top's arrival.

Author's Fun Culinary Fact: The swim bladders of most fish are indeed edible and are used in some East Asian soups.

Thanks for reading.