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• [ THE OUTCOME OF THIS BATTLE: ] •

To say Yuudai wasn't prepared for the punch would be an understatement. He was a man who was used to arguing, mostly because people often didn't know what was best for them, but it rarely escalated into physical blows unless it absolutely had to. Junko would, from time to time, unleash her temper in the form of a flying plate or a well-aimed fist, but it had been some time since he and his sister had outright brawled in the back yard. That sort of behavior wasn't appropriate for Lunarians their ages, for one, as they were not only on the same side but also siblings, but further than that, they had an appearance to uphold for the sake of their family inn. So, even if he sometimes would dearly like to bash her head into the nearest firm surface, he restrained himself and settled for arguing with her.

Clearly, Zhongxian was not as rational as even Junko. He should have seen that coming, especially considering how the man lost his temper over the slightest provocation, but even he hadn't been expecting it. He staggered back a few steps with the punch, swearing loudly as he brought blue-tipped nails up to touch his lip. A quick glance showed blood on the tip of his fingers -- damn it -- and his temper spiked.

He'd been perfectly willing to talk this out and accept an apology, but Zhongxian was apparently too simple-minded for that sort of behavior. Balling his hand into a fist, he snarled, "You are a pathetic excuse for a businessman," sidestepping the next blow and throwing one of his own, his aim Zhong's chest.

It was a small, awkward space to fight in, and even though he was pissed about the fact that they were fighting at all, Yuudai semi-consciously tried to avoid knocking over any jars. Someone had to be respectful, after all.

Fighting indoors was the most ridiculous thing he had ever engaged in, not to mention borderline infuriating. The layout of the shop was nearly entirely unfamiliar to him, mostly because he had rarely set foot inside unless it was to run a quick errand, and so he found himself paying more attention to where he was going than trying to get hits in on his opponent. It wasn't the wisest course of action, naturally, but Yuudai was hardly at an advantage in this particular situation.

The flurry of punches were a little more difficult to fend off than he would have liked, especially considering he rammed the small of his back into the edge of a table as he was trying to evade them. Arms up, he swore loudly, pale blue nails digging into his palms as he successfully blocked a few hits, grunted while the others landed. He was going to be black and blue by the time he was done here, and he hardly wanted to explain that to his parents.

Forgetting where he was for the moment, he disregarded his inherent need to be respectful to the establishment and lunged at Zhongxian, giving in to the quick lash of temper that his self-inflicted injury had caused.

Zhong was already landing enough hits, after all; he hardly needed to help him out in that department.

Teeth gritting, he used to other man's position to his advantage, trying to ignore the aches in his back and sides as he drove his fists into the other Lunarian's chest. Without having anywhere to move, Zhong was able to block a fair few simply by moving his arms at the right moment, but Yuudai was very satisfied to get a few hits in.

He was not quite a seasoned warrior, as he still attended the academy, but he and Ran often sparred with one another to keep their senses sharp, so he was better than a sitting duck. A well-aimed knee from Zhong had him stumbling back, however, and he swiped a hand over a counter, accidentally knocking over a few jars as he righted himself.

He brought his hands back up, falling into a defensive stance, and ground out, "You are being a fool. There was no need for us to resort to physical blows."

Apparently, there was a need now, as he darted forward again. By now, however, Zhong had managed to gain a more advantageous footing, and Yuudai mentally braced himself for what he was sure would be the procurement of more bruises.

Adrenaline was a wonderful thing; though Yuudai could feel the impact of Zhong's fists and kicks, and knew that there would be bruises littering his body when he was done for the day, he wasn't compelled to stop. Pride, too was a powerful force, because even though he hadn't picked this fight, he would see it to the end. The fact that Zhong could be so unreasonably rude to him and then challenge him to a fight inside his own workplace was ludicrous; Yuudai had never met a more disrespectful individual, nor a more ridiculous one.

Having no patience to continue a conversation on top of a fight, Yuudai abandoned attempts at that, instead shifting his stance to one that he employed with Ran during sparring. He wasn't quite as skilled in this approach, and though he was landing hits fighting normally, he was also getting pummeled pretty effectively. It was a gamble, but then, he was already at a disadvantage, so there wasn't much he could do that would make his chances worse.

Ducking a bit low, he aimed his punches at Zhong's midsection, moving in fast, short motions in hopes that he would disarm the other man by changing his approach suddenly. He needed to do something, anyway; Shizuka was waiting outside, and this fight needed to be ended before her attention was drawn to it.

Thinking of Shizuka distracted him a little bit, not enough to completely take his head out of the battle, but he faltered in his steps a moment. If she did happen upon the fight, it would be over the moment she stepped into the room. Ego, pride -- none of it compared to putting his sister in danger.

He took a particularly hard blow to the chest, grunted, and kicked his leg out, intending to sweep Zhong off his feet so that he could get his balance again. Breathing was difficult for a moment -- he really hadn't been prepared for that blow -- and he was beginning to feel the effects of the battle.