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• [ THE OUTCOME OF THIS BATTLE: ] •

He was surprised when his blow had connected; a bit off-course due to Yuudai's interference, but it still managed to connect with his face. The gesture was an outright declaration of war, and Yuudai rightfully took it as all the invitation he needed to return the smack-down.

Only a strangled cry escaped his lips in reaction to the sudden weight of his friend against him, and soon they were both out the door (broken? the door was probably broken) and tumbling onto the ground. He fell hard, having taken the brunt of the blow and winced for an entirely different reason. He would worry about the door later - hell, he'd fix it for him when they were done. He would gladly offer to fix what he'd destroyed, and maybe even refrain from voicing how it had been Yuudai's body that had propelled him into it. For now, the only thing occupying his mind was the man in front of him and how he was going to kick the crap out of him.

Fist tangling in whatever he could grab nearest to him, Ran brought up a handful of flowers - ripped from the garden and still retaining large clumps of dirt at their base - and began smacking it against Yuudai's face, hair, whatever he could reach. It was a laughable weapon, and his eyes widened considerably when he realized what it was (they were going to be killed later if they didn't die in this epic battle), but Ran couldn't see any hesitation in his friend's face.

No, the man seemed just as resolute as he to show him who was boss. As he tried to pummel his head with a handful of flowers, Ran managed to sigh between clenched teeth, the noise resembling a constrained hiss.

This was all so childish. Why did it feel like it was long overdue, then?

It couldn't be denied; Yuudai could definitely take a punch as well as give it. The series of blows to his head weren't making as much of an impact as Ran expected, and his friend managed to recover from them and return the favor. With a loud 'oof!', his ribs felt the stinging sensation that promised bruising, and then, not long after, his stomach. He groaned and resisted the urge to curl in on himself.

His knuckles dug into the ground as he struggled to pull himself up, one hand clutching his stomach while his neglected ribs stung in protest. He didn't have long to look up before he caught Yuudai's leg swinging at him; in startled surprise, he hit the deck again and rolled, swearing when Yuudai's heel caught his calf. Being kicked didn't feel good, but it was worse when it was muscle being hit.

Ah, well. At least it wasn't his face. Still he scrambled to his feet and brought his fists up, dirtied and sore in several areas. Not normal sore, no; the kind of sore that was probably like being jabbed repeatedly in the same spot by a pole. It was the most annoying feeling in the world, and all he wanted to do was sit and rub his ribs and stomach and calf until they felt better, but he had to ignore it.

Eyes narrowed coldly, he inclined his chin to his friend, waiting for him to stand. As angry as he was, he didn't like the idea of leaping on him again and pummeling him as he was; it wasn't a very good strategy, since being on the ground put him at a disadvantage, as well. Besides, the less damage they did to the already-wrecked flower garden, the better. He couldn't ignore the fact that he had just ripped up flowers from it.

Almost as an after-thought, Ran opened his hand suddenly and let the flowers drop.

"Come on! Stand up and face me like a man," he jeered, gesturing lazily with his fingers to further the taunting. "Or do you prefer to lie amongst the flowers? Pretty Yuudai."

He cleared his throat and swiped a hand across his mouth, smearing dirt and mud in a streak. Well, that was pointless.

"Real men fight with their fists!"

If Ran looked ruffled, it was because he was feeling quite ruffled. He knew it was not wise to allow himself to be so affected by Yuudai's snide remarks, but taunting had been part of their game for as long as he could remember. Still -- still -- that did not mean he was immune to it, and bad spirits would haunt them for years for their verbal abuse toward each other. Running his tongue over his lips, Ran tasted mud and spit to the side.

He resisted the urge to tackle Yuudai just then. "You are looking down upon me and doubting my survival skills? I was raised amongst the animal spirits!" Ran thumped a fist against his own chest, his usually-calm face twisted in embarrassment and anger. "I have faced things you could only dream of, safe in your inn! How often do you hunt for your food? How many times have you been stranded in the cold for days, forced to live off of the land around you and your own wits?"

"No more talking," he said slowly, casting a scrutinizing gaze over his friend's posture. He was still in training to hone his fighting skills, and his style was one that required great discipline, balance, and practice. Unfortunately, training was the key word - he did not know how well he would be able to hold up in attempting anything fancy against Yuudai, who was something of a honey badger when cornered.

He wanted to tell him that, someday. That he was like a damn honey badger. He would probably get a kick out of it when they weren't beating each others' brains out. It was a good, manly compliment.

Taking the bait had been too easy; he winced when Yuudai brought up his own lack of effectiveness in doing things on his own. Suddenly, every time he had ever screwed up seemed to come flooding to the surface of his mind, and he grew incredibly red.

"Tch!" b*****d, he thought bitterly. Without another thought, he closed the distance between them, swinging his leg toward Yuudai's torso to close the gap even more quickly.

It was a risky maneuver, as he had not yet honed his technique enough to properly be able to guard himself while in such a position. If anyone was going to mess it up, it was going to be him. But goddess damn it, he was a man, and he wasn't about to go down without a fight.

If Yuudai wanted a fight, he would gladly oblige him. They were brothers, after all; it was only right.

If Ran was in any state of mind to assess the situation, he would have decided that this was probably the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to him. Instead, all he could focus on was the fact that he was eating dirt and it tasted horrible. He was not against getting close to the ground to examine it while hunting, but this... this was just wrong.

Not only that, but Yuudai was sitting on him. Something had to be done.

Mustering his strength (and whatever scraps of pride he still had left), Ran thrust himself upward and attempted to throw Yuudai off. He managed to unbalance the man, which enabled him to free himself via rolling away. Scrambling to his feet, he hastily spat out dirt and tried to calm himself.

It occurred to him earlier in the fight that he was being a baby. If he lost his temper so easily in a mere scuffle, how would he ever be a successful warrior? How would he fare in an actual war? If his father saw him now, he would be so disappointed. The thought made his heart sink.

Yuudai already had the upper hand. He had the upper hand right from the beginning, and Ran had practically given it to him with his own foolishness. His hand curled into a loose fist at his side, and Ran flicked his gaze downward briefly.

"Yes, I have much to learn," he said numbly, stance shifting to something more relaxed, less guarded. When he looked back up into Yuudai's eyes, his own were narrowed. "But I already knew that. If I am going to serve the Legion properly, then I must continue to learn."

He gestured to himself, anger rising again. "Look at me! Look at how pathetic I am! I am just an ignorant child. Yuudai, I want to join the army," he added quickly, running himself short of breath. It had to come out. He had to say it now. "I am in the academy because I want to serve the Emperor.

"So stand," he ordered, raising his fists again. "And tell me what you plan on doing with your life!" The fight was meaningless before, but now he felt like he had to prove something to himself. Even if he lost, he would walk away with new resolve. This was the end of his childish days. He had to start fighting - and living - like every moment could be his last. He had to get himself used to that mentality someday, but it was going to be a long, difficult path.

With nothing else to say, Ran rushed Yuudai one more time, fist poised and ready, with the intent of going out with at least a little glory. He was exhausted from being beaten and his head hurt from becoming so angry, but just one solid hit - just one hit, he promised himself - and he wouldn't have to go home and drown himself in the river.

To the ground again. Tossed aside like a rag doll, but he had been partially expecting it. He hadn't expected his punch to be the deciding factor in anything, he'd just... wanted to do it. All of his anger dissolved when Yuudai announced the end of their fight. He believed him; it was over. Not their friendship, not their brotherhood, not anything important like that. Just their fight.

He wanted to puke from the feeling in his stomach. When they were both successful warriors, fights wouldn't be like this. It wouldn't be rivalries or squabbles they knew they could walk away from with their relationship intact. It would be life or death. Someday.

He stood and hands automatically went to dust his robe off the best he could. He knew he was a mess. Blood was on his face from being scraped against the ground, and bruises were blossoming here and there. Little reminders of his own immaturity, but he was used to it. His parents would be cross with him again, though.

Ran looked to the door, focusing his attention on it because it was easier to stare as hard as he could at that than Yuudai right now. He would have scrutinized a clump of dirt before looking his friend in the eye for the time being.

"Yeah," he said, and then he started walking toward it, feeling strangely unsatisfied for having punched his friend in the face.