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 Posted: Fri Oct 22, 2010 2:03 pm
It was time.
Yuki had been avoiding this match for the better part of a decade. Or rather, she hadn't wanted to face the man she had left behind, see what she had unintentionally done to him by suddenly leaving him without someone to rely on. A weight she hadn't been able to bear for more than a few years... And she had let Fefnir hold that for ten years.
She had beaten abusive, rude, disrespectful, and ungrateful of his total tolerance for all these things. He deserved his pound of flesh, his chance at victory. She stared at him from across the field and approached the ring, Yuki intended to give it to him.
It wouldn't be a cheep pound.
Simply because it was owed to him didn't mean that she would just give it to him!
Finally she reached the edge of the adamantine circle, and made an effortless jump to the edge of the ring. As she stood on the lip of the ring she looked her old student in the eye as he stood in the center of the arena and gave him one of her timeless smirks before holding out her hand, waiting for her blade to be returned to her so she could fight as a whole again.
No words needed to be said, her expression spoke volumes, even though she used a variation on it for nearly every situation. Her old student would be able to tell the difference, and what she meant by it.
Just like old times.
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Posted: Fri Oct 22, 2010 3:08 pm
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
Maybe in the years before he'd have returned the small smile. Maybe he'd have asked her how she'd been, or where she'd gone. Maybe he'd have walked over to the woman and handed her the sword with a little 'good luck' tacked on for good measure. Maybe he'd have been nervous to see her. Maybe he'd have wanted to show her just how much he'd grown from when she left, make a good impression on her, let her know she'd done a good job in training him and giving him the position. Maybe in those earlier years he'd even have given up, knowing he couldn't have defeated her as she was then, or maybe he would have tried, the knowledge that it was futile hanging over his head.
This was not the Fefnir of years long past.
The years hadn't been kind to him, though far kinder than she'd ever been. His legs were constantly in pain from the strain he'd put them through, and had the tendency to get stiff rather quickly. His empty red eyes were dull, a fact highlighted by the bags underneath them. He was no longer so much skin and bones as hardened muscle in the tightest of formations, belying the strength he'd had to force into himself. There was no room for weakness as Captain Commander, no allowance for losing in any form. He was expected to be the pinnacle of skill and strength and never, ever allowed to be a person. He was a symbol, like she'd been a symbol before him, and like the kitsune had been before that.
To say that he was upset was about half of the story. On some level, he was thankful. The baptismal by fire she'd subjected him to had made him strong, had given him purpose, and most of all respect. For that, he was appreciative. It wasn't as if his time with her was all bad. He looked on it fondly, even. It was her leaving that he couldn't understand. She handed him the keys to the kingdom and gave him the power to do whatever it was he wanted, but locked him into it as the only worthy successor in a sea of mediocrity. He couldn't get out like she could. He had no one to grant the same curse.
Yuki had set him free.
Yuki had sealed his tomb.
And he loved her, but he couldn't forgive her. Not for this condemnation. Not so that she could feel vindicated abandoning him and the whole Soul Society.
He could have smiled. He could have handed her the weapon and wished her luck. He could have spoken to her. He did none of those things. Eyes empty and unmoving, he glared at her and removed the blade from his belt, holding it up to gleam in the twilight sun, and with a swift motion, he threw it not to her, but to the ground in front of her, where it skidded lightly to a stop. The message was clear; 'We are enemies now. That will not change. I will not hold back for you, and I will not let you leave here alive.'
With a quick flash of coursing red energy, he was at True Shukuchi, legs strained and vibrating lightly as power compelled the limbs to move but will held them in line. His eyes, too, were alive with swelling, churning carmine power. One Step Ocular as well. There wouldn't be any such 'half strength' shows as the ones his other enemies received.
A single thought was on his mind. Finally... No more holding back...X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
Whoever writes in BLOOD,
_____Does not want to be READ
____________But LEARNED by HEART...
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Posted: Fri Oct 22, 2010 3:59 pm
With all her heart, Yuki had expected her old student to return the blade with all the respect and love he had shown her the day she left. Tears in his eyes perhaps, and every inch of him humble and caring.
As he threw her blade down to her feet one thing was blatantly obvious. He had realized the curse she had set upon him, and the mask he put on in the observatory room for their reunion was just for show. She understood. Being the top dog meant never letting your underlings see you loose it, and now that they where set against one another he was free to show the monster that he had become. The monster that she created.
Her eyes narrowed, and she scowled. Fine, if he needed the beating that badly she would happily oblige, as he had done for her so many years ago.
"...Okay. If you insist."
She took a step forward and rolled her foot across the top of the blade so it jumped back onto the top of her foot so she could kick it up into her hand. She caught it with a firm grip, the warm pulse of her dragon friend rushing through her. A sharp twinge of anger at the disrespect tainting the usually calming aura.
She drew it all in, not letting a single ounce of the aura escape her skin. The air around her became chill and fierce, unnaturally so, in the absence of her reiatsu. Her skin was as stone, just like her eyes as she stared down her opponent and drew her blade.
She couldn't out run him, so there was no point in a lightning fast attack, as she would have preferred. Long distance would serve her better for now, despite her close combat specialty.
He would come to her either way.
She twisted the wrist on her free hand, and fired Tenran at her old student. He would probably escape it easily, she could see him vibrating from his single step shikuchi from where she stood halfway across the ring. But the blast would hopefully be wide enough to at least harrow him long enough to allow her an easy dodge when he did get around to attacking. Perhaps even slow him enough to let Yuki get some good shots in.
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Posted: Fri Oct 22, 2010 4:59 pm
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
Fefnir didn't bother to pull his zanpokuto from the the red sheath it was housed in. He wasn't here to lose, but he WAS here to make a very blatant statement to anyone and everyone watching.
'Don't ******** with me.'
She flipped her weapon up to her hand, and suddenly, it was like she'd nearly disappeared. All of the ambient energy she'd been letting emanate from her body, that cloud of distinct power he could sense from anywhere at any time suddenly only coated her physical form, a much smaller thing to try and detect. It almost reminded him of the feeling some of the Arrancar had, the ones that were particularly hard to hurt normally. It was brand new to him, this move, but he was sure it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. No one would stand a chance now, not after all the training he'd done. Not even her. Not confidence, but realism led him to his evaluation, but even so, he was unaware of just what the purpose of the plunge in her presence was. He knew her too well to simply stand there like a dope waiting for the thing to hit him, so he readied his still trembling legs for action by spreading them a bit further apart than shoulder length and keeping his knees bent, an action that caused a sharp spike of pain for a moment but that was completely ignored. No time for pain when you're surviving.
She drew the blade, and had he not been so intent to kill her he'd have been honored, since she hadn't done even that for her opponents in the tournament thus far. Her other hand, however, held the attraction. With a sharp twist, no words, she conjured a kidou he recognized by sight but didn't know the name of. It looked like a horizontal tornado, and as was glaringly obvious, he didn't want to get hit by it. The thing was slow though, far too slow for it to be viable as an attack against him. Did she really underestimate him so much? Or was it a diversion for something else? Then he caught the trick; the cone of spinning air was widening as it traveled.
Fsh... The sound of rustling fabric and movement as he leaped just outside of the reach of the spell, and with a hard push toward her from one leg, he was next to the extended arm, sheath in hand still, and reached to grab it at the wrist with his left hand and just below the shoulder with his right. He pivoted, sliding his right leg in front of her left, and with a slight duck to get below her arm, used himself as a fulcrum to attempt to throw her.X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
Whoever writes in BLOOD,
_____Does not want to be READ
____________But LEARNED by HEART...
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Posted: Fri Oct 22, 2010 6:29 pm
A throw?
He had learned a lot since she had left, even if he had become less humble. It was almost like looking in a mirror to the past. She felt the weakness in his fingers as they wrapped around her wrist, a throw, not a slam. He had learned a lot... However, this showboating would only get him killed. It seemed she still had one final lesson to teach him.
She flew a few feet through the air, he was still trying to show off after all, and turned her body so she would land upright, sheathing her blade as she did so. When Yuki landed, she was standing straight up, with her sword hanging from her hip, as it had always done. If unarmed point proving was what he wanted, two could play at this game. She spread her hands out in front of her a little, silently asking him 'is this all you have learned these long years?', her face painted in disappointment. A ruse, she was watching him intently for the slightest twitch of his eyes, leg, arm, anything that would belay his movement. her legs where even slightly bent underneath the extremely baggy hakama pants so she could react fast enough when he came to attack her.
Her body was slowly starting to remember what it was like fighting Fefnir.... but this was just a little bit different... It was more like fighting herself, with a hint of the old friend she had known so long ago. Thankfully she knew herself even better than she knew him.
If he had grown so much alike her in these long years, with her zanpacto at his side, he would be easily provoked, and angered, especially since he was trying to make a point. She would be surprised if he could keep his composure after a taunt like this, if he really had become so much like her. A trait Yuki would be more than happy to abuse.
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Posted: Sat Oct 30, 2010 10:47 pm
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
It was a simple move, and the simplicity made it effective, but it was not only effectiveness that made it useful. I'm beyond you, it said, I can strike you down, toy with you, all at my discretion. He let her land. She landed. He let her live. She stood and taunted him, flaunted it in his face, as if it were her own power that prevented him from pursuing her after the toss. The insolence of that motion was infuriating, but what is a log thrown to stoke the flames of a volcano?
She doesn't get it...
If she could have seen his face, set in real disappointment, she might have learned just what a strain it was to be a god among the rabble, the sitter for shinigami that were mere children compared to him. Maybe she could have understood all the restraint every single movement he took among things so fragile as normal souls, all of the control he'd needed to perfect to prevent himself from destroying everything around himself.
Oh, but didn't she know? She'd been in his position before, hadn't she?
It wasn't the same. It couldn't have been the same for her. She was the one who ran from the captaincy. She fled because... because she wasn't strong enough to handle it for long. She made an excuse, and left him behind to clean up the refuse. It had made him stronger, stronger than her. Stronger than she ever was. Stronger than she ever could be. It was just so... pathetic.
She was just so pathetic.
She can't understand...
Her sword was away. She was asking for her demise. She didn't even comprehend that the nails had just been driven through the hands of her sole Christ, and her hand held the hammer. She had acted as her own judge and jury, and now it fell to an executioner to deliver the last blow. Her tactic was all too clear for someone who had been around her for the majority of his life. She thought her hand to hand was better than his, and that she could bait him, as if this would be a fair fight, or even more ludicrous, to her advantage. She would regret her decision.
He knew her, and that even if she looked like she was asleep, she was ready to move and react. The tactic was obvious to him: afterimages. He'd beyond perfected the skill by this point, as it was the speed user's bread and butter, the move by which you lived or died. Seemingly without the slightest of twitches, a copy of Fefnir propelled itself directly at her, an obvious fake whose features were blurred and only looked like him in passing, and using the small bit of time he had while she reacted to that, the real shinigami practically warped behind her, making a distinct trail in his reiatsu. There, he pushed some reiatsu into a second image, proportioned to match his own distribution and to seem much larger than the energy actually put into it. It would seem to be the same as the captain upon first glance, but anything past a cursory look would reveal it as a fake. This image moved much faster than the first image, and would reach her only a slight bit later than the obvious fake.
That was what Fefnir would be waiting for. He followed inside of his own more complete image until it grew close, and as soon as the first image dissipated only feet in front of her, he used his Shukuchi to move to where, presumably, her exposed back would be, and delivered a solid blow to where her head would be with is right fist.X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
Whoever writes in BLOOD,
_____Does not want to be READ
____________But LEARNED by HEART...
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