[...2 Weeks Later...]
"...7..."
"...8..."
"...9..."
"...10!" exclaimed the announcer. The gong was rung for the fourth time. The match as over. Yami lay on the floor, still. He was alive, but clearly unconscious. The other students went to collect him, as they had Ten before him. The Turtle school was now losing two matches to nothing. The martial artists representing the crane school were dubious. The Master's face showed it all as Ten stepped up for his match. Kiru noted the Master's suspicion and listened to the murmurs of the Turtle school students suspect that ringers had been brought in to represent them.
"I'll take the next match," spoke Kiru. "If you have any advice... I'm still listening...." he added looking over his shoulder at the Master.
"There is nothing more for me to say to you. It will be decided in one strike." replied the Master. As flat as it was, Kiru pondered the words, wondering if the Master had simply conceded the Turtle School loss already.
"Contenders ready?" called the announcer. Kiru and his opponent both nodded in agreement. "BEGIN!" the gong hit again, signalling the third match. Kiru moves into his Karijutsu stance, sword-less. His opponent shifted their weight against the arena floor, sliding the sole of their front pump forward an inch, testing Kiru's reactions. Kiru didn't flinch or watch it at all. He just blinked. Taking him to be idle, Kiru's opponent darted for him to close the gap. Kiru blinked again, remembering his training. He spent two weeks in cement shoes to inhibit his body from naturally jumping away as other students rammed spinning Wing Chun dummies at him. He opened his eyes to the incoming kick to his face and all he could appreciate was how... slow, the attack was. As well as it being a singular, unambiguous attack.
"Take This: Bushin-Sho!"[1] roared Kiru as he thrust a palm into chest of his airborne opponent. The force of his opponents jump carried them over his shoulder and into the ground with an ungraceful thud. The umpire began to count. The Head was flabbergasted, gritting his teeth and irate.
"...10!" exclaimed the announcer. The gong was rung for the sixth time. The match as over. Kiru's opponent lay on the floor, still.
"Winner - Turtle School!" exclaimed the announcer. Unlike the matches before, there wasn't simply applause, astonishment considering the speed with which the match was settled. Kiru descended from the platform back to the Turtle School group. He looked down at his sleeves, pulling them up to marvel at his forearms, streaked in red stripes from the bruises he sustained attempting to block the wooden dummies while he honed his ability to plant his feet and strike without his sword.
"Just like you said, just one strike... truly amazing," Kiru remarked towards the Master. The master's expression didn't change, keeping as stoic and calm as he had from the moment they left for the tournament.
"...7..."
"...8..."
"...9..."
"...10!" exclaimed the announcer. The gong was rung for the fourth time. The match as over. Yami lay on the floor, still. He was alive, but clearly unconscious. The other students went to collect him, as they had Ten before him. The Turtle school was now losing two matches to nothing. The martial artists representing the crane school were dubious. The Master's face showed it all as Ten stepped up for his match. Kiru noted the Master's suspicion and listened to the murmurs of the Turtle school students suspect that ringers had been brought in to represent them.
"I'll take the next match," spoke Kiru. "If you have any advice... I'm still listening...." he added looking over his shoulder at the Master.
"There is nothing more for me to say to you. It will be decided in one strike." replied the Master. As flat as it was, Kiru pondered the words, wondering if the Master had simply conceded the Turtle School loss already.
"Contenders ready?" called the announcer. Kiru and his opponent both nodded in agreement. "BEGIN!" the gong hit again, signalling the third match. Kiru moves into his Karijutsu stance, sword-less. His opponent shifted their weight against the arena floor, sliding the sole of their front pump forward an inch, testing Kiru's reactions. Kiru didn't flinch or watch it at all. He just blinked. Taking him to be idle, Kiru's opponent darted for him to close the gap. Kiru blinked again, remembering his training. He spent two weeks in cement shoes to inhibit his body from naturally jumping away as other students rammed spinning Wing Chun dummies at him. He opened his eyes to the incoming kick to his face and all he could appreciate was how... slow, the attack was. As well as it being a singular, unambiguous attack.
"Take This: Bushin-Sho!"[1] roared Kiru as he thrust a palm into chest of his airborne opponent. The force of his opponents jump carried them over his shoulder and into the ground with an ungraceful thud. The umpire began to count. The Head was flabbergasted, gritting his teeth and irate.
"...10!" exclaimed the announcer. The gong was rung for the sixth time. The match as over. Kiru's opponent lay on the floor, still.
"Winner - Turtle School!" exclaimed the announcer. Unlike the matches before, there wasn't simply applause, astonishment considering the speed with which the match was settled. Kiru descended from the platform back to the Turtle School group. He looked down at his sleeves, pulling them up to marvel at his forearms, streaked in red stripes from the bruises he sustained attempting to block the wooden dummies while he honed his ability to plant his feet and strike without his sword.
"Just like you said, just one strike... truly amazing," Kiru remarked towards the Master. The master's expression didn't change, keeping as stoic and calm as he had from the moment they left for the tournament.
- Techniques Used:
- [1]Bushin-Sho 5
Type: Offensive
Range: Melee
Power: 5
Stats: N/A
Description: Kiru holds Cypher in his left hand by the side hilt and pushes his fist into his target, hilt-first. The technique compacts the power of his punch impact of his into the small, precise area of his hilt while slightly extending his natural reach.