>>5187088

The two of you are alone, sitting across from each other in the center of the dojo. You're sitting in the traditional proper posture, back straight, kneeling with your legs tucked underneath. Your grandfather sits more casually across from you. When you were younger, he still knelt in the proper sitting position, but you suspect his joints are too bad for that these days.

Slowly, with deliberate movements, Grandfather takes out a scroll and unrolls it in front of you. The paper is very old. Drawn on it is a rough sketch of a human being, with all kind of lines painted across the body, or pointing to various positions. Cramped text is written next to some of the lines, but you're not able to read most of the complex Chinese characters.

"What is it?" you ask.

"This is a map of the human body's meridians," Grandfather says. "You remember how I taught you that all humans possess a vital energy. It's not something that can be measured by science or instruments, but it exists all the same. If you think of this energy as water, the meridians are like river channels. It flows through your body in these patterns." He points to a few locations on the scroll. "There are twelve standard meridians, which everybody uses. These provide energy to the important parts of the body, like the stomach, the lungs, or the heart. They can be divided into yin and yang: dark and light, female and male, passive and active."

"But I'm a girl. Do I have boy meridians too?" you ask, confused.

Grandfather allows himself a tight smile. "It's abstract. We'll discuss that more in the future. For now, I want you to focus on learning these pathways. Not only the twelve standard meridians, but the If the twelve standards are rivers, the eight extraordinaries are lakes. They act as reservoirs, storing energy, which can be called on when needed. eight extraordinary meridians as well. These are ones that are important to people like me, and maybe someday, you as well. Arts users."

"I see," you say, looking down at the scroll. It looks very complicated, and none of it makes sense to you, but if grandfather says you should learn this, then it must be important.

"Now, Ayame," Grandfather says. "Out of everything I've just mentioned, which do you think is the most important for your training?"

"Umm ..."

>Yin, because you're a girl
>The twelve standard, because you need to make your body strong
>The eight extraordinary, because you want to be an arts user
>All of them?

>>5187091
>The eight extraordinary, because you want to be an arts user

Aim high, kiddo.

>>5187088
>>The twelve standard, because you need to make your body strong

POWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER

>>5187091
>>Yin, because you're a girl

>>5187088
>The twelve standard, because you need to make your body strong

Musclegirl protagonist let's go.

>>5187091
>The eight extraordinary, because you want to be an arts user

Something different to the male MC.

>>5187091
>>Yin, because you're a girl

>>5187091
>The eight extraordinary, because you want to be an arts user
Ah, the cultivation of great inner strength. A great concept.

>>5187091
>The eight extraordinary, because you want to be an arts user

>>5187091
>>Yin, because you're a girl

>>5187091
>All of them?
It's probably the wrong answer but it sounds like what she think the right answer is

>>5187091
>>All of them?

>>5187091

>All of them?

>>5187091

You're not sure what answer he's looking for. You can think of several that he might be thinking of, or maybe even all of them at once. Eventually you decide to say, "The eight extraordinary ones. I want to be an arts user someday, so those are the best, right?"

Grandfather nods. "That's correct, Ayame. As a martial artist, it would be best if you focused on cultivating your inner strength. But don't think that means you can slack off on training your body as well," he adds, cutting off what you were about to say. "It won't do you any good to have powerful chi if your muscles and joints are weak and untrained. . You need to learn your stances and movements, your blocks and strikes, and become strong and flexible.

"Ayame, the reality is that, as a woman, you will lack the raw physical strength of men. And as you may know, we Japanese are not exactly renowned for our size. If you were to travel abroad someday, you would surely find yourself outmatched in power and speed, even if you only fought against other women. However, your chi reserves are already bright and strong, even as this young age, and I suspect they will grow even more potent over time. It is for these reasons that, as your teacher, I recommend you focus on cultivating your eight extraordinary meridians, and your skill at chi manipulation in combat. Your arts."

Grandpa points to the side, towards the gap in the doors you were looking at earlier. Outside, the snowfall continues. "Observe the snow, Ayame. Graceful, gentle, soft. It falls in beautiful patterns that none can predict. Each one is unique, not only in its design, but in the path it takes to the ground. And yet, snow can also become ice. Hard and unyielding as stone. It has the power to shatter and destroy. Do you understand?"

"I ... think so, grandfather. Maybe. I'm not sure. Actually, no, I don't."

"You will, someday. Now, show me your horse stance."

You jump upright and take the position he taught you: feet planted, thighs parallel to the floor, back straight.

Grandpa examines your stance with a critical eye, gives a grunt of satisfaction. "Good. Now stay like that for three hours. I'm going to go watch my shows."

"Three hours?!"

"You want to increase your endurance, right? Without stamina and muscle control, you'll never become an arts user. Or was I wrong about your dedication to the family style?"

You let out a heavy sigh. "Okay, grandpa ..."

The old man gets up and exits the dojo. He leaves the door open a crack, the way it was earlier, so you can still look outside and see the snow. He also left the portable heater on. Could be worse, you think glumly. Your leg muscles are already starting to protest. Three hours of this ...?

>>5187321

Kyoto, Japan
199X
Now

Once again the shrill ring of the alarm clock cuts through your haze of sleep. Once again you extend a hand outwards from the fortress of warmth and comfort that is your blankets, hit the snooze button, and sink back into restfulness. Aahhh, bliss. Nothing feels more perfect sometimes than a comfortable bed and enough time to sleep in before you have to get ready for school.

How much time do you have left? How many times did you hit that snooze button? You can't remember now. Oh well. If you were really late for school, Ryoma would have woken you up by now. You can always rely on him for things like that. It's safe. Everything is fine.

Although, wait a second ... didn't Ryoma leave the country a few days ago? You have a dim recollection of seeing him off at the airport ...

Squinting as you poke your head out of the darkness of the blanket fortress, you peer at the numbers on the alarm clock and receive a sharp shock. Fifteen minutes before class begins! And it takes you twenty minutes to walk there! Oh man, you've gotta run, and you've gotta run NOW!

Bolting out of bed, the next few minutes are a blurry montage of activity. Pull on your tights and school uniform. Throw your books and homework into your bag. Quickly check the mirror and smooth down your bed-head hair. Running down the steps two at a time, when you reach the bottom your stocking-clad feet slip and slide on the wooden floor, and you almost lose your balance before righting yourself and continuing on.

You were planning to skip breakfast, but your stomach growls fiercly in protest, so you quickly pop a slice of bread in the toaster while you get your things ready, then slap some jam on it, put on your outdoor shoes, and dash out the front door, schoolbag slung over your shoulder.

Thus it is that you begin running to school, late, with toast in your mouth.

>>5187359

Despite your haste, when you see a small group of the elderly folks from around the neighborhood clustered around a tree, discussing something that's clearly agitating them, you pause to see if anything's wrong. "What's going on?"

"Ah, Ayame-chan!" An old lady recognizes you. "Takahashi-san's cat is caught up in the tree. Again."

You hear a meowing and look up to see a black cat with white paws up on one of the highest branches of the tree. "Oh, no, Mittens! Not again!" You hesitate for a moment, knowing you're already going to be late for school, but you can't leave Mittens like this, and you can see poor old Takahashi is going to go crazy with worry if his beloved cat is up there any longer. You drop your schoolbag on the ground. "Don't worry, I'll get him down."

>Climb up the tree carefully
>Climb up there as fast as possible
>Kick the tree to shake it!

>>5187367
>Climb up there as fast as possible

>>5187367
>Climb up there as fast as possible
Grandpa's training sure came in handy

>>5187367
>Climb up there as fast as possible

>Climb that tree in a hurry
"Oh no Mittens! Not again!"
You've dealt with this before, you've climbed this tree before, rescued this cat before. You know how to climb, snag, rescue by muscle memory. Maybe not to that extent, but you've done it Enough, and you're in a Hurry.

>>5187367
>Climb up there as fast as possible

>>5187367

You can't leave Mittens up there, but you also can't be late for class (again). Time to do this as quickly as possible. Grandpa's training should come in handy. Plus, you've done this before. Maybe not this exact tree, but definitely this exact cat. "All right, here I go!"

Suffusing your body with a little chi for lightness, you leap up the side of the tree. It's just like those exercises, the ones where grandpa makes you run up that board against the wall. Your body feels weightless as you jump up, branch by branch. This is easy, and fun!

Unfortunately, you get a little carried away with yourself, and a branch you didn't notice scrapes at your calf. It doesn't hurt, but checking your tights, you can see a hole ripped there. Oh, man! You just bought these. And that rip is going to be embarrassing at school. Gosh darn it. Maybe nobody will notice.

You reach the top branch. The cat meows at you plaintively. "Oh, Mittens," you say. "What are we going to do with you?" You're a familiar face to the cat, and you manage to coax him into your arms. You hold on firmly with one hand, using the other to keep your skirt from flying up, as you drop back down to the ground.

"Oh, thank you, thank you," Takahashi-san says, almost crying, as you hand him back his cat. With his wife passed away, and his kids living across the country, Mittens is the old fellow's only companion. He clutches tightly to the little furball.

"Happy to help, sir," you say. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get to school real quick! See you all later!" You wave to the elders as you dash away.

>>5187559

No time for jogging now, not with that little delay. You keep the pace up at a proper run. The neighborhood breezes past. One block, then another. Hopping from one foot to the other at the crosswalk waiting for the light to turn, then running again. Okay, you're going to make it! Maybe! As long as nothing else gets in your way, like say a person stepping out from that corner there right at this moment --

Oof!

Sure enough, just as you think it, it happens. You slam into the other person and both of you go tumbling to the ground.

Shaking off the impact quickly, you realize your bag has spilled open and tossed your homework all over the sidewalk. Too embarrassed to look the person you bumped into in the face, you apologize profusely as you start picking up your homework. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry--"

"Hey, it's okay, these things happen." A young man's voice. You realize the person you bumped into is a boy wearing your school uniform. Wait, is that -- oh my god is that Takeda-kun? He's one of the most popular boys in school, a senior like you, but way above your social rank, you've never even talked to him before. The other girls gossip about how good-looking he is, and up close, you can see now what they were talking about. Good grades, good family, senior on the baseball team, he's everything a girl could ask for in a boy.

Takeda-kun smiles as he hands you something. Your own homework pages, you realize. "Here, these are yours, right?" If this were a scene in a shoujo manga, there would be flowers blooming behind him right now.

>This is it! Your chance to talk to a popular boy!
>Thank him, then rush off. Can't be late again.
>Boys are, like, whatever, but you'll stay and apologize for crashing into him.

>>5187571
>This is it! Your chance to talk to a popular boy!

This ought to be humiliating.

>>5187571
>This is it! Your chance to talk to a popular boy!

>>5187571
>Thank him, then rush off. Can't be late again.

>>5187571
>>This is it! Your chance to talk to a popular boy!

>>5187571
>This is it! Your chance to talk to a popular boy!

>>5187571

This is it! Your chance to talk to a popular boy! You try to say, 'Yeah, thanks,' in as cute and girly a voice as you can manage, but it comes out more like an awkward squeak. "yEah, tHAnkS." Not a good start. You can feel heat rising in your cheeks. "S-sorry about running into you like that."

"Hey, no problem. You're Saito-san, right? From Class C? You know, if you wanted to get to know me, you could have just introduced yourself. Didn't have to be quite this enthusiastic." His easy smile lets you know it's a joke. "Well, it's good to finally get a chance to meet you properly, Saito-san, even if it's like this."

"Y-yeah, you too. Takeda-kun, isn't it? I know your name from, uh, the baseball team." Definitely not from all those gossiping girls.

"That's me. Don't worry about that whole thing. We're both late for class, right? You're the one who was doing the right thing and hurrying over there as fast as possible. I just didn't feel like running, to be honest. Too sore from practice yesterday." The same easy smile. "Well, no way around it, we're good and late now. Might as well take our time. Want to walk over there together?"

"Sure! Yeah!" You realize that might have sounded a little too enthusiastic. "I mean, you know. I guess. If you want to."

As you're walking, you sneak a few glances over at Takeda. He seems oblivious, looking up at the trees blooming in spring. You should come up with something to talk about. "So, uh, Takeda-kun, how are things on the baseball team?"

"Oh, pretty good. I doubt we'll get to nationals or anything, but we're all doing our best. It's fun. I mostly play just to stay in shape and hang out with the boys. What about you, Saito-san? I don't usually see you after school, I'm not sure what club you belong to."

"I, uh, I'm not in a club. Sorry." You feel downcast. It's kind of a mark of shame to not be in an after-school club. "I have to help out at home after school."

"Hey, that's more important, if you ask me. Being in a club or playing a sport is fun and all, but family's what counts. Sure, a club looks good when you're trying to get into college, but it doesn't matter as much as your grades."

"Right, my grades ..." You are a thoroughly average student, Cs across the board. "I'm sure I'll be fine, haha ..."

>>5187667

Turning the corner to school, you come across a group of boys loitering in the shade of the trees, leaning against the concrete wall or squatting slav-style on the ground. Like Takeda, they're wearing the boys' uniforms from your school, but definitely not in the regulation style -- a mix of customizations, ripped-off sleeves, unbuttoned shirts, and accessories. The biggest one is even wearing a biker jacket. Yankees.

They're talking about something, but the conversation stops when you and Takeda walk into view. "Woah, hey, what's this? Get a load of this, fellas. Cute couple walking to school." The group stands up and starts walking slowly towards you, spreading out a little to either side.

You've heard about this group of boys. They're on the verge of being expelled from the school for vandalism, smoking, fighting, even rumors of test cheating. Rumor has it they've been loitering in the area, looking for trouble, almost like they see the threat of expulsion as a challenge. Guess they've decided you're it.

"Hey, girl, what's your name?" One of them gets uncomfortably close to you. He's got a thin mustache, the kind only teenage boys can grow. "Want to give me your number? I'll show you a good time, honest."

"What you got in the bag, babe?" another asks. "Want to show us? Maybe show us what's under that jacket, too?"

Okay, this is annoying, but you can handle it. As long as Takeda doesn't do anything stupid, like try to defend your honor, everything will be fine. You turn to tell him as much, just as he throws his bag at the nearest delinquent to distract him, then lashes out at with his fist at thin-mustache guy. It connects, a solid hit.

"Run, Saito-san!" Takeda shouts. "I'll keep them busy, get out of here!" He's quickly surrounded. He might be tough, but he can't take on four yankees at once on all sides. He takes a blow to the back of the head, and even though he stays on his feet, it opens him to another hit and that one puts him on the ground. The yankees laugh and gather round him, ready to start stomping.

Oh boy. Well, you're definitely going to be late now. Grandpa tells you not to get into fights or use your techniques in public, but surely this is an exception, right? No way you can let Takeda get his ass beat like this, when he was trying to protect you.

This shouldn't be a challenge. The only question is how hard you want to go.

>Go easy on them. They're just punks.
>Get a good practice in. Treat them like proper opponents.
>Demolish them. Make them afraid to ever face you again.

>>5187682
>Get a good practice in. Treat them like proper opponents.

Takeda's an actually nice dude instead of a popular cunt, eh? Nice.

>>5187682
>Get a good practice in. Treat them like proper opponents.
Do need to teach them a lesson. But unless Takeda is seriously hurt we don't need to hospitalize them.

>>5187682
>>Get a good practice in. Treat them like proper opponents.

>>5187682
>Go easy on them. They're just punks.

>>5187682
>Get a good practice in. Treat them like proper opponents.
We ARE already late. May as well make the most of it.

>>5187682
>Go easy on them
Nothing supernatural, just some redirection. We still got to beat their ass.

>>5187682
>Go easy on them. They're just punks.
Those punks will never admit they got their ass beat by a tiny girl. Not like anyone will believe them anyway

>>5187682

Okay, you should take this seriously, but not too seriously. Grandpa would be mad at you for completely destroying these guys. But if you went too easy on them and they actually landed a hit on you, he'd probably be even more mad. You can hear him now: "Only five of them? Just highschool punks? And you let them land a solid blow? Six hours' horse stance!" Your legs are aching just thinking about it.

No, the best thing to do here is to treat them like regular sparring opponents. Act like this is a practice session. Use this as an opportunity to hone your skills in a real world situation, and not just the dojo. Perfect! In a way, these guys are doing you a favor.

All this flashes through your mind in one swift moment, before you take action. "Hey, fellas," you say, brushing past thin mustache guy as you walk towards the dogpack of boys about to start kicking Takeda while he's down. "Sorry I have to do this, but you know, you really brought it on yourselves."

Thin mustache guy doesn't like that. "Haaah?!" He lays a hand on your shoulder."Don't walk away from me, bitch!" He tries to pull your shoulder to turn you around to face him. You shift with the movement and deliver a quick kick to the side of his knee. The look of confidence on his face swiftly crumbles to surprise and pain as he staggers in that direction, suddenly without a leg to stand on. So you duck down a little and nail him with an elbow strike, just under the armpit, right in the nerve center. He collapses, groaning as he tries to cut off his cries of pain. Won't be able to use either limb on that side for a while.

"What the fuck?!" The rest of the delinquents turn your way. They don't believe what they're seeing at first, mustache guy on the ground moaning while you stand there unruffled. One of them says, "Okay, fine. Let's teach this little girl what happens when you mess with us."

You smile and make a little "come on" gesture. "Show me a good time, boys." Just like Jack would have said.

>>5188410

The first one comes at you with a wild haymaker. All you need to do to dodge it move your head slightly to the side. The wind whistles past your ear as the blow whiffs. Remember your breathing, you think, making sure to exhale as you counter-strike with a punch series, one-two-three-FOUR. Down he goes.

The next closest to you doesn't even know how to react to what he just saw, so you take the opportunity while he's standing there gawking to blast him with a knee strike into a front kick, sending him stumbling and falling backwards.

The third charges, but he's leaving himself open a mile wide, and a pre-emptive punch to the stomach stuffs his attack completely. Did you hit the vomit spot? Oh, yeah, you did. There he goes. Watch your shoes.

"Oi, oi. Hold on just a minute." The leader has been hanging back until now, the biggest guy, the one with the biker jacket. He picks up something and you see it's a bokken, a wooden katana. It might be a practice weapon, but it sure hurts to get hit with one, as you know from experience. "You think you can just beat up my guys like that? I was going to to go easy on you 'cause you're a girl, but not after that little display. How about you--"

While he's still talking, you step forward and launch a jumping roundhouse kick, letting out a kiai as your foot clocks him in the head. He spins on his way down to the ground, landing in a heap. The bokken clatters on the sidewalk next to him.

"Stay down," you say. Unnecessary, as it turns out. None of them look like they're going to be standing for a few minutes.

You pick your way through the groaning delinquents on the ground back to Takeda. "You all right?" you ask, help him back up to his feet. He's looking at you with a weird look in his eyes. Isn't it true that boys don't like girls who are too tough or independent? Oh man, you might have saved him getting his ass beat, but ruined your chances with him at the same time. "Sorry, I guess that was out of line, haha ..."

"Sorry? What do you have to be sorry about? That was amazing!" You realize the weird look is something in between wonder and admiration. "Where did you learn to do that?"

>Saito-style karate! I teach a class!
>I'm actually the heir to a centuries-old martial arts tradition.
>Just a few tricks my grandpa taught me.

>>5188414
>Just a few tricks my grandpa taught me.

>>5188414
>Saito-style karate! I teach a class!
The dojo has been short on students for a while.

>>5188415
>>5188414
>Saito-style karate! I teach a class!
switching to this

>>5188414
>Saito-style karate! I teach a class!

>>5188414
>>Saito-style karate! I teach a class!

>Just a few tricks from grandpa, (in his Saito-style martial arts class that's totally looking for new members)
Ohm my god he thinks we're awesome. We just gotta play it cool play it smooth like butter.

>>5188414
>Saito-style karate! I teach a class!

>>5188414
>Saito-style karate! I teach a class!

>>5188414
>>I'm actually the heir to a centuries-old martial arts tradition.

>>5188414

"That's Saito-style karate!" you say, giving Takeda a hearty thumbs-up. "I teach a class, so that gives me plenty of practice!"

"No kidding," Takeda says, rubbing the back of his head where he got hit. "That was really something. I've watched the judo and kendo clubs when they're sparring, and I thought they were pretty good, but you were on a whole other level."

"Oh, haha ... I do my best." You're used to being compared to your brother, who's older and more disciplined than you, so you're not used to compliments.

Takeda looks down at the still-groaning delinquents on the ground. "We should go before anyone sees this. Could be awkward to explain. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble for fighting. Not sure if the teachers would even believe that you beat up five guys by yourself, but even so."

"Yeah, you're right. That and we're still late. We'd better get going." You resume your walk to school with Takeda, leaving the thugs behind.

"Oh, and uh, thanks." Takeda looks embarrassed. "I tried to defend you there, but you ended up being the one defending me. Sorry about that."

"Hey, no problem. Happy to help. Plus, that was good practice." You feel a lightness in your step as you finish walking to school.

You eat a talking-to from the homeroom teacher before awkwardly slinking to your desk in shame. Once classes begin, the day becomes normal again. One teacher shuffles through the classroom after another. English, History, Math. Students chatter, gossip, argue and make up. It's whatever. School is just something you put up with while it happens.

You get good enough grades to pass your tests, but not enough to give you any shot at a good college. You have a handful of friends and connections, enough to keep you from being a total social pariah, but nobody close, and nobody popular. You're about as ordinary as it gets, really.

It doesn't bother you. Your real life doesn't happen here.

>>5188646

Your impatience to get home grows as the day drags on. By the end of the day, you're squirming in your seat anticipating the end-of-school bell, and when it finally rings, you're out of there! You hope you don't get delayed on your way out, but fighting your way through the crowd of students to get down the stairs and to your shoe locker takes a while.

Once outside, before you can leave, your path is blocked by a huge boy with broad shoulder, standing in your way with his arms folded. "Saito-san!" he bellows. "Today's the day you finally leave the go-home club and join us in the judo club!"

This again. Nakamura's the captain of the school judo club. He has some small idea of just how strong you are, and keeps after you to join. You keep saying no, but he's persistent.

You're about to reply, when someone else does first. "On the contrary, Nakamura-kun." Another boy, same height, but lithe rather than bulky. Yamamoto, the captain of the kendo club. The same applies to him. "Today Saito-san takes her rightful place with us."

"Back off, stringbean! Saito-san belongs with us in judo, where a man's muscles determine his own fate!" Nakamura flexes to demonstrate.

"There's more to life than muscles, you dumb rhinoceros. Kendo is the perfect art to combine dignity, skill, speed, and power. Perfect for someone with finesse and grace, like Saito-san."

"What did you just call me?!"

The two boys glare daggers at each other.

>Sorry, I really wish I could
>Not happening, not interested, stop asking
>I'll join your club if you can beat me
>(Don't say anything, just leave while they're distracted)

>>5188649
>(Don't say anything, just leave while they're distracted)

>>5188649
>Sorry, I really wish I could

>>5188649
>(Don't say anything, just leave while they're distracted)

>>5188649
>>I'll join your club if you can beat me

>>5188649
>We shall join neither, for we have already joined the ninjitsu club

By which I mean
>[Don't say anything,leave while they are distracted]

>>5188649

You don't bother to say anything to the two boys, just quietly slip past them while they're distracted arguing with each other. They're still going at it as you head out the school gate and start walking home. Maybe they'll get the message and give up this time. Maybe.

Once you arrive at home, you have fifteen minutes to drop off your bags, visit the bathroom, pop open the still-warm rice cooker (Grandpa always makes extra for you), fill a bowl and quickly shovel it in, change into your gi, and run over to the dojo -- not the small, old, private one that you and grandpa use, but the big one out front. At 4:00 on the dot, you step into the main room and wave. "Good afternoon, everyone! Who's ready to learn karate?"

The thirty kids of your 4-7 age class all yell with excitement. "Hooray!" "Let's go!" "Show us the high jump kick, Ayame!" "Yeah, show us!"

You feel yourself smiling. "All right, settle down, everyone! We've got to get right to work, okay? Now everybody line up in your spots, all three rows, and show me your front stance!" You demonstrate for them, front foot forward, back foot sideways, hands at the ready. The kids imitate you as best they can. "Good! Now, who remembers what an inside block looks like?"

First is is the 4-7 age class. More of a babysitting job than actual teaching, but you like spending time with the kids. Next is the 7-12 beginner class, and afterwards, the advanced class, same age group. Some of them take it more seriously than others, but it's still just a hobby to them, something fun to do after school. Even so, you do your best to set a good example, and to help everyone work on their weak points. Some of them will go on to join Ryoma's classes someday, and it's your job to make sure they have a solid foundation when they get there. You try to pass on everything that he and Grandpa have taught you about that.

The last of your classes ends at about 7 in the evening. Phew. It's been a long day, but you finally have some time to yourself. Soon you'll get yourself some dinner, and after that, begin your own personal training. But before that:

>Check in on your grandfather in his study.
>Phone Mom.
>Visit the family shrine.
>Read the latest volume of your romance manga.

>>5188695
Sad we didn't vote to at least interact with the martial arts guys. Oh well.

>Visit the family shrine.

>>5188695
>Check on grandad

>>5188697
No point doing so. They can't handle us, and we can't display our proficiency there. Learning another style would only dilute our family traditions.

>>5188695
>Visit the family shrine.

>>5188695
>Visit the family shrine.

Gotta tell them about our day.

>>5188699
Yeah, but it would've been fun to talk to them or something instead of just noping out first chance. School shenanigans, you know?

>>5188713
I don't, actually.

They seem rather bland and boring, and unlikely to actually listen when we tell them to fuck off. Better to just get home and do our classes.

Which, she does 3 hours of continuous martial arts training. Even if her brother is better, this girl is TOUGH

>>5188695
>Check in on your grandfather in his study.
I bet Ryoma is at the shrine though.

>>5188695
>>Read the latest volume of your romance manga.

>>5188716
>she does 3 hours of continuous martial arts training. Even if her brother is better, this girl is TOUGH
Time spent "training" doesn't necessarily correlate with strength or skill. 3 hours of training could be anything. It might be
>3 hours of silent meditation
>3 hours of conditioning
>3 hours of technique drills
>3 hours of sparring
And any combination of those.
I guess we'll see what her personal training is like soon enough though.

>Phone mom
I just think it would be neat to call mom

>>5188695
>Read the latest volume of your romance manga.
Teenage girls be doing teenage girl shit

>>5188695
>>Read the latest volume of your romance manga.

>>5188695
>Read the latest volume of your romance manga.

>>5188695
>>Read the latest volume of your romance manga.
I forget if i already voted for this particular one, but if I did, ignore this.

>>5188716
Well, there's no accounting for your bad taste I guess.

>>5188695

Family's important, but you know what else is important? Finding out whether Hikari will finally discover the Shadow Knight's true identity!

After a quick shower to wash off the sweat from three hours of karate classes, you dash off to your room, close the door, and settle in on your bed with this month's issue of Magic Moon Knights.

At the start of the series, Hikari and her friends, who were ordinary Japanese highschool students like you, were transported to a strange fantasy world called Pangaea, summoned by the Moon Princess to aid her people who were under attack by the dark army of the Valdread Empire. The girls were granted the ability to transform into the titular Magic Moon Knights, each with their own special armor and powers. Ever since then, together with the power of magic and friendship, they've been travelling the land searching for a way to defeat the dark emperor of Valdread and restore peace to this world.

A consistent thorn in their side on this journey has been the Shadow Knight, a mysterious warrior who has similar powers to the dark forces of Valdread, but seems to serve his own agenda, sometimes helping the Moon Knights, sometimes interfering. At the conclusion of the last issue, he and Hikari found themselves alone, and she asked him to remove his helmet and reveal his identity! Was he really going to do it? You eagerly open the book and start reading.

After talking about the difficulty of his journey, trying to find the narrow path of balance between the dark and the light, the Shadow Knight finally lifts his helmet. As leaves blow on the wind dramatically behind him in a full-page splash panel, he looks directly at the reader, revealing his handsome face with a rugged vertical scar over one eye. "I am Prince Landon," he says, "Second son of the Dark Emperor."

>>5189162

"Oh my GOOOOOSH!" You roll back and forth in the bed clutching the book to your chest. The Emperor had a second son! Younger brother to the crown imperial prince! And he's a wandering knight who sometimes helps the heroes! How can this be?!

You open the book again and keep reading. Hikari is sympathetic. Is it because she always sees the good in people, or because Landon's a handsome bad boy? A little of both, probably. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head as the two share a chaste kiss under the moonlight. "So shameless!"

You wonder how this will conflict with Hikari's other potential love interest, Kentaro, who's a boy from back on earth. He was also transported to Pangaea, but by accident. He didn't have any powers at first, since only girls can be a Magic Moon Knights, but after impressing the Volcano King with his courage he gained his own transformation and the ability to manipulate earth and fire. He's reliable and straightforward, but kind of a dumbass, whereas Landon is cool and edgy, but also infuriating.

Are you more of a Kentaro girl or Landon girl?

>Kentaro, you like a guy who's honest and fun.
>Landon, the allure of bad boys is too strong.
>Who cares, you just read this for the battles.

>>5189165
>Landon, the allure of bad boys is too strong.
Let's be real, this is a teenage girl we're talking about.

>>5189165
>>Landon, the allure of bad boys is too strong.
He's just so DREAMY.

>>5189165
>Kentaro, you like a guy who's honest and fun.
Like Takeda! Wow that was cool! He talked to us!

hmmmmmmm hard pick here. i'll try...
>Landon, the allure of bad boys (who fight good) is too strong

>>5189178
Wait Shit You're Right
can't possess the cake and eat it too. i'll keep my vote and hope Ayame learns the secret appeal of Good Eggs > Edgelords

>>5189165
>>Landon, the allure of bad boys is too strong.

>>5189165
>Kentaro, you like a guy who's honest and fun.

>>5189165
>>Landon, the allure of bad boys is too strong.

>>5189165
>Landon, the allure of bad boys is too strong.

>>5189165
>Landon, muh bad boi
>But takeda is better than both!

Girly crush, activate.

>>5189165

You know you shouldn't feel this way. Kentaro is clearly the better match and more stable partner, even if he is a hothead sometimes. But there's just something alluring about the dark and intense types like Landon, the ones who are standoffish and prickly but clearly vulnerable on the inside. Surely you could be the one whose love is powerful enough to tame his tempetuous soul! Or if not you, then Hikari. Close enough.

You read on. Before Hikari can express her feelings after the kiss, the two are interrupted by the sudden appearance of Balian, the crown imperial prince, along with a squad of his elite dark knights! "I thought I'd find you collaborating with the enemy, brother, and here you are," he says."As our father's second son, unable to inherit the throne, you wanting to undermine my position is entirely sensible, and so I've looked the other way until now. But this is too far. You betray the empire!" He thrusts his gauntleted hand forward, and the dark nights leap into action. "Men, take my brother prisoner, and destroy that foolish Magic Moon Knight!"

Hikari is about to say something, but Landon steps forward, placing himself between her and the forces of darkness, while drawing his sword. "I'm sorry, Balian. I won't let you do this."

"Then it's come to this! So be it!" Balian draws his own sword, the dark magic in its blade blazing forth. "Let us settle this between us, brother, once and for all!"

The manga ends on that cliffhanger. Oh, man! You can't wait until next month.

>>5189432

Okay, time for a snack, then training begins. Grandpa said he had something new in mind for you tonight, and you wonder what it is as you bound down the stairs from your room to the hallway. From there you go to the kitchen, thinking about what's in the fridge.

Unexpectedly, you hear Grandpa talking in there. He sounds angry. Is he on the phone with the bill collectors again?

No, you realize, as you enter the kitchen. You've got company. A clean-cut young man in a dark suit sits at the kitchen table, politely sipping a cup of green tea. "Sir, please," he says after putting down his cup. "All I'm asking is for you to hear out my offer."

"I know exactly what your offer is, boy, and my answer is no," Grandpa growls. He remains standing.

"Are you sure, Saito-sensei? Things are different now. If you'll allow me to explain --"

"I'm done with your kind. You and the men you represent. The less I have to do with them, the better. Hmph." Grandpa folds his arms and looks away. "Besides, I'm too old. Even if I wanted to, these joints can't move like they used to."

"Now, Saito-sensei, we both know that's not true. Your endurance is flagging somewhat in your old age, certainly, but if you really wanted to show your full strength for a short time, there's not much that could stop you."

"Who cares? I said I don't want anything to do with it. Take your little briefcase there and leave. Finish your tea if you like, but I don't want to hear any more about this."

"I will, if you don't mind. This is excellent tea." The strange man takes another sip from the cup, then notices you watching from the doorway. "Ah, this must be your granddaughter."

"Don't talk to her," Grandpa says, cutting off any reply you might have had. "Finish your tea and leave."

"Well, sir, I'm afraid my business here isn't quite done. You see, my employer has asked that, should you happen to turn down his generous invitation, I should extend the same offer to your granddaughter here instead. You might object, Saito-sensei, but it seems to me she is a young woman capable of making her own decisions, don't you agree?" The handsome stranger looks back to you and smiles. "Young miss, would you care to listen to what I have to say? I can promise you'll find it interesting, if nothing else."

>Sure, let's hear it.
>Want to tell me who you are and what you're doing here first?
>You heard Grandpa. Finish your tea and leave.

>>5189436
>Want to tell me who you are and what you're doing here first?
I'm sure Ayame is a sensible girl, capable of sensible decisions.

Such as inquiring who the fuck is in your house and why you shouldn't kick their ass.

>>5189436
>Want to tell me who you are and what you're doing here first?

>>5189442
This is the mindset to have.
So I support.

>>5189436
>You heard Grandpa. Finish your tea and leave.
Begone. You can't steal us from Landon.

>>5189436
>>Want to tell me who you are and what you're doing here first?
If gramps doesn't like the guy, then he's probably not trustworthy. But it doesn't hurt to hear out all options.

>>5187088
But where's the Tournament Arc I?

>>5189436
>>Want to tell me who you are and what you're doing here first?

>>5189490
here >>5172067

>You wanna explain to me what you're doing here?
If Granddad's pissed, can't be a good sign

>>5189436
>Want to tell me who you are and what you're doing here first?

>>5189436
>Want to tell me who you are and what you're doing here first?

>>5189436

"Want to tell me who you are and what you're doing here first?" you say, skeptical of this man's presence here. If Gramps doesn't like this guy, it can't be a good sign. But it can't hurt to at least hear him out, right?

"Harada Jin, at your service," he says. "I'm here representing a global organization which takes an interest in martial artists. Specifically, we search for the elite, the best of the best from around the world. Our goal is to facilitate a series of matches between the world's greatest fighter. Battles to determine an international champion, the one who can truly claim to be the world's strongest.

"A tournament," you say, realizing what he's getting at.

"Indeed. My initial aim here was to recruit your venerable grandfather here, still renowned as the master of Suigetsu-ryu. But as I said, Saito-san, should he refuse, I'm empowered to extend my invitation to you."

You? The world's strongest?! There must be some kind of mistake here. Grandpa, sure, definitely. Ryoma, maybe, you like to think so. But you? You haven't even graduated highschool! There's no way you could be in consideration for the world's greatest fighter!

Grandpa cuts in. "If this is some sort of coercion technique, trying to get me to participate by threatening to put my granddaughter in harm's way instead, you're stepping over the line, sonny. How much do you think your organization would object to having with their representative being beaten to a pulp? They can take it up with me afterwards, and I'll show them just how much strength is left in these old bones."

"On the contrary, sir. My employers have specifically indicated that they truly believe the young Saito-san here is a valid candidate. From what I understand, she is a true adept in the making. Inexperienced, certainly, but with more than enough talent to make a proper showing in the Kumite."

>>5189944

Kumite simply means "sparring." A strangely ordinary name for so grandiose a concept. "So what's the big deal?" you ask. "I haven't ever heard of this tournament. If it's such a prestigious global event, why aren't the winners celebrities? What are they getting out of it, if not fame and renown?"

"Besides claiming the title of the world's strongest, you mean? Oh, it's nothing much." A faint smile on Harada's face. "One million US dollars."

"One MILLION?!" You can't stop yourself from reacting.

"Yes." Harada takes another sip of the tea. "In fact, if you agree to participate, you'l receive a payment of ten thousand, in cash, right now."

Your head spins. Ten thousand US dollars, just for agreeing to participate in whatever this tournament thing is? With that money, you could finally tackle that mountain of bills piling up in the study. Fend off the bank. Pacify those debt collectors. Pay off the land inspectors. Maybe even start repairs on all those run-down buildings on the estate that have been slowly crumbling.

With the prize from the tournament, a million, you could finally restore the Saito name and estate to its former glory. The days Ryoma talks about. The days when your father was here.

"Enough," Grandpa grunts. "We're not so desperate for money as to participate in your little puppet show. You're finished your tea. Now get out."

"But Grandpa," you say, still thinking about that pile of bills. "The banks -- with that money we could --"

"I said get out!" Grandpa turns to you, and you see real anger in his eyes. He might often act cranky, but this is something else. "You don't understand what he's asking you to do, Ayame!" His voice thunders, and you shrink back from the intensity.

"I can see I've overstayed my welcome," Harada says, rising to his feet. "I apologize for my rudeness. Saito-san, please consider my offer." With smooth, practiced motions, he takes a business card holder out from his inside jacket pocket, withdraws a card, and hands it to you with both hands in the proper etiquette. "With this number, you can contact me at any time."

Instinctively, you take the business card with both hands, the way you've been taught is polite. 'Jin Harada' is printed in neat script above a phone number, personal name first, western-style. The character for "shadow" or maybe "reflection" is written in the top right, inside a circle. That's it.

Harada puts the case back in his pocket, then bows. "I'll show myself out. Thank you for the tea, Saito-sensei. It was very good." He picks up the metal briefcase you didn't notice -- is there really ten thousand dollars in there? A briefcase full of money, just like the movies? -- and walks away.

Grandpa watches him leave with a glowering intensity. "That snake's nest never runs out of vipers to crawl out," he mutters.

>I understand you're upset, but we could really use that money.
>What was that all about? How do you know about this?
>Forget about him. Let's move on.

>>5189947
>What was that all about? How do you know about this?
Get lore

>>5189947
>>Forget about him. Let's move on.

>>5189947
>What was that all about? How do you know about this?
please don't say "nothing to worry about, it doesn't matter"

>>5189947
>I understand you're upset, but we could really use that money.
Man, don't I know it.

>>5189947
>What was that all about? How do you know about this?

>>5189947
>What was that all about? How do you know about this?
>Is it bad enough that we couldn't just take the front-up money and surrender? We could have really used that.

>>5189947

"What was that all about, Grandpa?" you ask. "How do you know about this?"

"It is a relic of the past," your grandfather mutters. "Like me." He busies himself putting away the tea set and cleaning up in the kitchen, avoiding looking in your direction. "The less you know, Ayame, the better. Stay away from that man and the people he represents."

"But why? What's the big deal about a martial arts tournament? Ryoma's been in a bunch of tournaments before and you encouraged it. I'm seventeen, I can handle it!"

Grandpa scoffs. "Those so-called tournaments! None of those men are real fighters. Those are show dogs, performing tricks for crowds. Bark and sit on command. They get a special treat if they win, a trophy to put in their glass case and feel vanity when they see it. Ryoma knows this. He only enters for the prize money, small as it is." He finishes putting everything away, puts his hands on the counter. "Please understand, Ayame. If you got hurt, I would never forgive myself."

You laugh nervously. "You're acting like it's dangerous. Nobody gets hurt in these, right?"

"It is dangerous. The Kumite is not for tame dogs. It is a land of wolves. And Ayame, you are not a wolf."

"Is this --" you say, then hesitate. "Is this something to do with Father? And what happened?"

Grandpa doesn't reply.

"You're going to have to tell me the whole story of what happened someday," you say quietly. "I have to know."

"I will," Grandpa says. "But not today. Go out to the dojo garden, by the pond. I'll meet you there shortly, and we'll begin."

>>5190594


While much of the Saito estate has become overgrown with weeds and vines, the rear garden between the small family dojo and the pond was your grandmother's favorite. She always made sure it was in good condition, and the blooming flowers every spring would provide beautiful scenery for your lessons with Grandfather and Ryoma.

Without Grandma around anymore, it's harder to maintain this place. Less precise and orderly. Nobody else has her green thumb. But the three of you have always made an effort to preserve what you can of it. The flowers still bloom every spring.

Within the garden is a large circular pond, free of trees or bushes obscuring the reflection of the sky. On a clear night like tonight,when the moon is overhead, you'll be able to see the pale reflection of that silver light above in the still waters of the pond.

The moon reflecting in water, something beautiful that cannot be touched: Suigetsu. The true name of your family's style.

Why did you start learning the family style, anyway? What is it that keeps pushing you to do this? It's true that you've always wanted to imitate your big brother, who takes his training very seriously. And it helps to support the family, now that you can contribute to teaching the classes.

But that's not all, is it? There's something else, something that's always been there.

>You want to become strong in your own right, maybe even stronger than Ryoma.
>You want to become famous and contribute to your family legacy.
>It's the only link you have with your father, who you can't even remember.

>>5190598
>It's the only link you have with your father, who you can't even remember.

Yes I will take one large serving of drama, family flavored, cheers.

>>5190598
>>It's the only link you have with your father, who you can't even remember.
>You want to become famous and contribute to your family legacy.
It's half and half. You want to be famous and rich to honor your dad's legacy.

>>5190598
>>You want to become famous and contribute to your family legacy.

>>5190598
>You want to become famous and contribute to your family legacy.

Jack already has daddy issues, Ayame doesn't need them too.

>>5190598
>You want to become famous and contribute to your family legacy.

>>5190598
>You want to become famous and contribute to your family legacy.

>>5190598
>You want to become famous and contribute to your family legacy.

>>5189947
>You want to become strong in your own right, maybe even stronger than Ryoma.

>>5190598
>>>You want to become strong in your own right, maybe even stronger than Ryoma.

>>5190598
>You want to become famous and contribute to your family legacy.

>>5190598
>it's the only link you have with your father, who you can't even remember

>>5190598
>It's the only link you have with your father, who you can't even remember.

>>5190598

Your family has a legacy. The name of the Saito clan and Suigetsu-ryu command respect from those who know of it. It's not something you understand too well, but you have looked through the photo albums many times. There, in the old photographs, you can see Father standing as an equal alongside great figures in martial arts, shaking hands, receiving medals; or teaching at the head of a class, at first with dozens of students in the old dojo out back, then with hundreds, in the new one out front. And from what you understand, the history goes back much further than your immediate family. The scrolls that Grandpa treasures are much older than he is, and he's spoken a few times about your illustrious ancestors, and their accomplishments in previous eras.

In some way, however small, you want to be a part of that. Maybe you'll only be a footnote in the family history, a background character in a single faded photograph. In your dreams, of course, it gets a bit more grand than that. Tournament victories, accolades, media acclaim. Becoming known. Whether great or small, you want to contribute something. You want to help to build your name.

What was it that weird guy, Harada, said about the winner of that tournament? "The one who can truly claim to be the world's strongest."

Could winning this 'Kumite' really bring you that kind of renown?

>>5191379

Hearing the tapping of grandfather's cane on the stone path, you turn to see him enter the garden. You say, "You're still going to keep your promise, right? Just because some weird guy showed up and talked about some mysterious tournament with a dark past, that doesn't mean you changed your mind, right?"

"I haven't changed my mind," Grandpa says. He's changed into his old karate gi and hakama, still jet black despite the passing of time. "But you'd better take what I said seriously. Stay away from that man. I'm not teaching you these things so you can go rushing off on a foolish adventure on a misguided attempt to restore prestige to our house. Don't think I don't know what you're thinking, young lady."

"What -- I wasn't --" Okay, no point in arguing. "Fine. But I'm ready, right? You said I was ready."

"I can't argue otherwise. You've diligently studied sensing your own meridians, controlling your breathing, everything that goes into chi maniulation. You're naturally strong in its use, maybe stronger than you realize. And of course, you continued to watch my lessons for Ryoma and Jack, even when I specifically forbade you from doing so, didn't you?"

Again, no point in arguing. You spent a lot of time in those bushes, right over there, watching Grandpa teach your brother and a hot-headed foreigner about the same age how to use arts.

"At least you have the dignity not to make excuses. Hmph. Well, you might not believe this, but I've been thinking about this day for a long time. Thinking of how I might teach you. The Suigetsu style has more than one path to mastery of the arts. Your brother is a straight-forward boy. He is passionate and focused, and so I taught him the mainline style, which is direct and strong. But I have something different in mind for you. I think it will allow you to express yourself -- both your inner creativity, and your harmony with your surroundings.

"This style of arts was developed by our ancestor Yusuke sometime in the late 18th century. He was inspired by a popular art movement at the time, from which he gave it the name Setsugekka. Snow, Moon, Flowers. It represents the seasons of the year: snow falling in winter, the moon reflecting water in autumn, the flowers blooming in spring."

"Why is it in that order?" you ask. "Shouldn't it be spring, autumn, winter?'

"Quiet," he growls, then pauses. "Actually, that's a good question. I don't know either. But it doesn't matter. Concentrate."

"Yes, sir."

"We'll start as usual. Still your mind, become aware of your whole body. Now, allow your yin gates to begin to open ..."

>>5191382

Grandpa takes you through the basics of manifesting your chi outside your body. It's hard work, but you can do it. All your previous training is paying off now, strenghtening your reservoirs and becoming accustomed to drawing from them. First you create a few snowflakes, then a small crescent of moonlight, then a burst of spring petals. You understand the visual effects are all simply metaphors, a mental structure to shape the energy, but it's beautiful all the same.

You soon progress further, intuitively understanding how it all synchronizes with your natural rhythms. The snow is graceful and gentle; the moon is sharp and precise; the flower is explosive and confounding. You'll need to learn all of these, of course, but which do you find yourself immediately taking to?

>Snow [Evasion, Accuracy]
>Moon [Accuracy, Strength]
>Flower [Strength, Evasion]

>>5191385
>Snow [Evasion, Accuracy]

>>5191385
>>Snow [Evasion, Accuracy]
We're not the strongest, but we ARE fast.

>>5191385
>Moon [Accuracy, Strength]

>>5191385
>Snow [Evasion, Accuracy]

>>5191385
>Moon [Accuracy, Strength]

File: Yuri kof.gif (84 KB, 450x450)

84 KB GIF

>>5191385
>Snow [Evasion, Accuracy]
Next thread will be Ryoma then 3 on 3 matches in the tournament?

>>5191385
>>Flower [Strength, Evasion]

>>5191385
>Snow

Why try to overpower when we can never match a mans muscle mass, when we can steal their strength.

>>5191382
>Moon [Accuracy, Strength]

>>5191385
>>5191388
Actually fuck it. Changing my vote
>Moon [Accuracy, Strength]

>>5191382
>Moon

>>5191385
>Moon [Accuracy, Strength]
Scalpel

>>5191385
>Snow [Evasion, Accuracy]

>>5191385
>Snow [Evasion, Accuracy]

>>5191595
>>5191382
>Moon [Accuracy, Strength]
changing to this

>>5191385
>>Snow [Evasion, Accuracy]

>>5191385
>Snow [Evasion, Accuracy]

>>5191385
>Moon [Accuracy, Strength]

>>5191385

With Grandpa's help, you swiftly improve your fledgling manifestation skills. You can see now how a lot of the knowledge he passed down to you previously, about the eight paths and breath control, prepared you for this. Now it's finally time to build on that foundation, and create arts of your own.

No arts user is exactly the same, Grandpa reminds you. No two people manifest their chi in the exact same way. Though the basic forms of techniques are passed down from master to student, inevitably they become skills unique to the user. The arts you develop will be yours, and yours alone.

You struggle a bit with the flower techniques, there's a lot of rising and unfolding and moves that can change direction. It's confusing for an enemy, which is good, but it's also confusing to you, which is not so good. But you're confident you can figure this out soon. It will just take some practice.

In contrast, both the snow and moon skills come more easily. The snow techniques have an elegent symmetry to them, focusing on throws, evasion, and stability. When grandfather says to envision the snow falling, you think of that winter night when he first showed you the meridian scrolls.

Meanwhile, the moon techniques provide offense for any situation, wide circular strikes that circumvent any attempts to counter or throw, and more direct attacks that pierce through defenses.

"Good," Grandpa says. "We'd better stop there. Practice the crescent and reverse crescent twenty more times on the post, then call it a night."

"Already? But it's only--"

"-- only almost midnight, on a school night," he interrupts. "Your dedication is admirable, granddaughter, but you can't fail a class in your senior year because of all this. Don't forget about your future while looking towards the past. Do as I said, then make sure your homework is finished and go to bed."

Sigh. "Yes, Grandfather."

"You've done well tonight," Grandpa says. "We'll continue this tomorrow. Keep at it, and you'll make rapid progress." He shuffles off back to the main house, his cane tapping on the stones.

>>5191909

You step in front of the wooden dummy and begin your practice. The crescent kick is an outward strike, swinging your leg up and around, that bypasses ordinary defenses to land a blow to the head; the streak of blue-silver energy left behind resembles a pale crescent moon. The reverse kick is simply the opposite motion, swinging your right leg to the left and up. Flexibility and concentration are required just to perform the basic strike properly, and manifesting your chi at the same gets exhausting quickly. But this is why you've been strenghtening your eight reservoirs this whole time. You were waiting for this day. You're not about to give it up now.

After twenty of each strike, you feel drained. Your eight meridians have worked harder today than ever before, and your feet and forearms feel jarred and bruised from an evening's sparring with the springy wooden dummy. With all that practicing earlier, and three hours of classes before that, and beating up those idiots before that ... well, it's been quite a day.

Before going inside, you take a moment to rest on the circular sitting stone by the pond. Looking at the training area, the open, grassy space in the center of the garden, from this perspective, you remember another time you sat here. Grandfather was beside you, and over there in the field were the two boys ...

>>5191911

198X
7 years ago

The sun is high overhead on a warm summer day, cicadas buzzing in the nearby forest. Today Grandfather has allowed you into the garden while the boys are practicing. Ryoma and the foreign boy are sparring, going back and forth across the small training field in the center of the garden. Ryoma has the upper hand whenever the foreign boy tries to use the karate techniques Grandfather is teaching him, but when he abandons the forms and cuts loose with something unexpected it forces Ryoma onto the defensive again, although Grandfather shouts at the foreign boy each time he does it. He's beside you on the other sitting stone, watching them battle with a critical eye.

"Grandfather, can you tell me more about what they're doing?"

"Mmmm. Perhaps." A generous mood, then. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," you say eagerly.

His wrinkled brow furrows, and he turns to look down at you. "Do not presume too much of your teachers, Ayame. Pick something specific."

"Okay, then ..."

>Attack, defense, and evasion
>Chi and energy centers
>Finishing strikes

>>5191914
>Finishing strikes

>>5191914
>Chi and energy centers

>>5191914
>Finishing strikes

>>5191914
>Attack, defense, and evasion
Fundamentals, son.

Lots of chargen this thread, but it's weaved into the narrative so I don't mind. Quite like it, actually.

>>5191941
Finishing move feels more like Jack's thing and Fundamentals feels more like Ryoma's thing. We should go in on Chi and Energy Centers since that's also what we're focusing in the present day

File: Raidstrong Shake.jpg (96 KB, 1280x720)

96 KB JPG

>>5192035
Moon voter detected, opinion accepted.

>Chi and energy centers

>>5191914
>Chi and energy centers

>>5191914
>>Chi and energy centers

>>5191914
>Chi and energy strikes

We know the greatest finisher. We name it "line ender"

>>5191914
>Chi and energy centers

>>5191914
>Chi and energy centers

>>5191914
>>Chi and energy centers

>>5191914

"Tell me more about chi and energy centers," you say. "I understand the eight paths move the chi around, but you also have places in your body where it gets stored, right?"

"Mmm. There are different names for them, depending on your tradition. Dantian, chakra, sefirot. Here we call them "tanden." Many of the greatest masters have disagreed on their exact nature: which centers are connected to which parts of the body, or which should be prioritized for a certain effect. It's not something that can be easily measured or charted, like weight or gravity.

"What they agree on is this: the energy centers of the human body are aligned vertically, down the length of your body; that they act as storage vessels for the spiritual energy of your astral body; and that the eight paths, the eight extraordinary meridians, are the channels through which energy flows between the centers, and from there to the rest of your body. This is how arts are used, by channeling extra chi from your tanden through your body, out to your limbs, and from there, projecting it outwards.

"Remember that your reserves are limited. Training and meditating on your tanden will strengthen them, and in the future, I will teach you techniques to efficiently store energy there. But the human body can only store so much at a time, even someone gifted like you. Fighting already exerts a drain on these centers, and using arts burns through it all the more quickly. If you exhaust your reservoirs, you won't have the energy to put up a fight even with normal techniques. So be wary of using too much of your body's energy too swiftly. That said, the first blow struck in a battle can be decisive. You will have to make your own decisions as to when to expend energy and when to hold back.

"One thing that few of even the great masters understand is the nature of "escalation" or "extremity". It is known that chi becomes energized when fighting, as the human body calls upon all of its strength and alertness; it is known that chi is released from the body as part of the natural ebb and flow of its rhythms, like breathing; it is known that the site of a battle often becomes highly energized as a result of this release. There are some who theorize that the strongest of arts techniques can only be used under these circumstances, when the ambient energy is at its highest ..." Grandpa seems to realize he's talking about a subject beyond your current level. "I've strayed off topic. For now, simply focus on learning to sense your tanden, and their interactions with the eight paths."

"Yes, Grandfather."

>>5192656

"Oh, what is it this time?" he says, his attention drawn to the two boys. You realize their sparring match has become a confused scuffle on the ground, each struggling and grabbing at close range. Grandfather barks, "Separate! Ready stance! Now!" He raises his cane threateningly.

The boys, who by this point know that he's not afraid to use that cane, resentfully comply, refusing to look at each other.

Grandfather gets up and paces back and forth in front of the two boys, shaking his head. "Heavens protect me, what am I to do with you two? [You! American!]" He switches to English as jabs his cane aggressively towards the foreign boy's chest. You understand it a little from your lessons at school. "[Is this how you think Max wanted you to spend your time here? You are here as a guest, at his request. He trusted that you could improve yourself here. Is this how you repay him?]" The boy sullenly says nothing. Grandfather whacks him on the upper arm with his cane, not a serious blow, but enough to sting. "[Get control of yourself. We are not your enemies.]"

Ryoma doesn't look over, but you can see him smirking when the foreign boy gets smacked. Grandfather clearly notices it too, because a moment later Ryoma receives a swift crack across the shin from the cane. He grimaces in pain but manages to stay standing. Grandfather stands in front of him. "Don't think you're innocent in this. How do you think your father would feel about this? Do you think he would appreciate what you're doing? Hmm? That this would make him happy?"

Honestly, you think, this is nothing. When the foreign boy first arrived here, a few weeks ago, it didn't take long before these two fought for real. They were actually trying to hurt each other then. A mostly-proper sparring session that ends with a brawl in the dirt? This is an improvement.

"Dummies, one hour," Grandfather says, pointing with his cane to the set of wooden dummies. "Maybe you can fight one of those without it coming to blows." He turns to leave, then pauses and adds, "I'm going inside to make rice. You can eat your fill afterwards." With that, he walks back to the house. The cane on the stones was only a light tap in those years, not yet something he was forced to lean on.

The boys glare at each other, but still move to the wooden dummies to start their practice, forcefully striking the arm and leg posts jutting out from the central posts. Unleashing their anger on the unfeeling wood.

>Go inside to help Grandpa prepare food.
>Join the practice on the third wooden dummy.

>>5192658
>Join the practice on the third wooden dummy.
If that's what big bro is doing...

>>5192658
>Practice on the dummy

>>5192658
>Join the practice on the third wooden dummy

>>5192658
>Go inside to help Grandpa prepare food.

>>5192658
>Go inside to help Grandpa prepare food.
>>5192656
>There are some who theorize that the strongest of arts techniques can only be used under these circumstances, when the ambient energy is at its highest ...
Foreshadowing?

>>5192729
More like lore explanation for the Super Meter

>>5192658
>Join the practice on the third wooden dummy.

>>5192762
My thinking this Tournament is a way to Collect energy in a place, for um reasons?

>>5192865
Well, it's not a fighting game story if the tournament didn't secretly have a nefarious purpose behind it

>>5192656
I just find it funny you went with tanden as that is the Dutch word for teeth, I know it means something else in context though

>>5192658
>Join the practice on the third wooden dummy.

>>5192658
>Go inside to help Grandpa prepare food.

Don't leave an old man to do chores all by himself.

>>5192658
>>Join the practice on the third wooden dummy.

>>5192658
>Join the practice on the third wooden dummy.

>>5192658

If it's good practice for big bro, it's good practice for you, too. There are three wooden dummies in the garden, all set up beside the stone wall. With the boys on the left and right, that leaves the one in the middle for you, so you step up and start hitting it, feeling the springy resistance of the wood against your fists and forearms. While you don't know the complex set of moves the boys are doing, and can't hit as hard as them, you can at least practice your striking alongside them.

Grandfather has shown you the first set of 6 of the 18 strikes, and says the second set of 6 will come after he feels you've properly learned the first. You want to see them as soon as possible, so that means practicing these whenever you can. You strike repeatedly against the post representing the body and head, and the smaller sticks for the arms. Left head, right head, left arm, right arm, stomach, chest, repeat.

"What are you doing here?" Ryoma asks tersely. "Grandpa didn't punish you."

"It's training, right?" you say. "He doesn't just hand out punishments randomly, it's what he thinks we should work on. So I want to work on it too."

"You don't have to worry about this sort of thing," he says, still concentrating on the dummy. "I can carry on the style by myself. I'm strong enough."

"I can be strong, too. Just you wait and see."

"You don't have to, though. I can handle this. You can lead a normal life, be a normal girl."

"So what? Who wants to be normal? I want to do this!"

It's not the first time you've argued over this with your brother. It is, however, the first time a brash foreigner has been within conversation range. The other boy stops hitting the dummy and turns to Ryoma, saying something in English, too fast for you to catch. He jabs at the air with his index finger in Ryoma's direction, a gesture that only Americans somehow think is acceptable in a conversation. Then he looks at you, nods with a determined smile, gives you a thumbs-up.

"I think he's agreeing with me," you say, unable to keep a hint of smugness out of your voice.

>>5193534

Ryoma's eyebrows furrow, an expression you recognize from grandpa's face. He stops practice and turns in your direction. "You know who he is, right?" he asks, indicating the other boy behind you. "Who his father is? If he says something, you should believe the opposite. I don't understand why Grandfather allows him under our roof."

"I don't see it like that. I mean, look at it this way. Father was a good man, right?"

"Of course. I know you don't remember, but trust me. He looked after us. He taught me a lot of things, before -- before everything happened. And yes, he was good, and honest, and wanted the best for everyone." He glares at the foreign boy. "His death was a tragedy."

"Okay, so he was a good man. But let's say he was a bad man. Like, imagine a world where he was a yakuza thug and killed guys for money, like in that movie. Would you let that change who you are today? Would you just give up and say, 'oh well, I guess I have to be bad too'? Or would you try your hardest to be good anyway?"

Ryoma hesitates, but in the end doesn't say anything, just goes back to hitting the dummy. The other boy does as well, and the silence breaks with the sound of flesh striking wood again.

When Ryoma's in a bad mood, you've learned the best thing to do is to ask him for help with something. Giving him a problem to concentrate on, and an opportunity to act the protective big brother, often gets his mind off whatever's troubling him. So you ask him about:

>Attacking against a solid defense.
>Guarding against offense.
>Observing your opponent.

>>5193538
>~~Homework~~
>Attacking against a solid defense

>>5193538
>Attacking against a solid defense.

>>5193555
I suggest this.
Let him deny us homework as a feint. OUR SISTER TRAINING IS COMING IN ACTION

>>5193538
>Observing your opponent.
You must observe your opponent so as to determine where best to strike.

>>5193538
>Observing your opponent.

>>5193538


"Brother, I've been thinking about what to do in a certain situation in a fight, maybe you can help me figure it out," you say. That gets his interest. He might not like that you're training, but he can't resist an opportunity to solve a problem when it comes to fighting strategy. You continue, "If I'm trying to go on the attack, but my opponent has really good defense and is blocking everything, what should I do?"

"[You should just hit harder!" the American boy says, and laughs. "[Really really hard, so hard they can't block it!]"

"Don't listen to him," Ryoma says. "It can be hard to get through a dedicated defense. In that situation you might want to slow down your offense and observe your foe, attempt to spot a weakness in their defenses. There are also certain moves intended to evade or pierce defenses, they attack from unexpected angles, or strike too fast and swiftly to be reacted against. You might also try some kind of defense-breaking maneuever -- a throw, a shove, or even a blow intended to break their guard and give you an opening."

"Kind of like this?" You strike with both forearms against one of the dummy's wooden arms.

"More like this." Ryoma demonstrates a more efficient version of that guard breaking technique. You try to imitate his movements.

"[No, no, you gotta push off and twist.] Leg. Turn leg." The American is picking up Japanese words, apparently.

"We don't need your help," Ryoma says. "But ... he's right. You should turn your front foot as you step, and push off with your back foot. Try to use your whole body for each move. Yes, like that. Much better."

The impromptu lesson continues, both your teachers, such as they are, each contributing what they know. The cicadas in the nearby forest whirr and buzz continuously as the summer day fades away.

>>5194077

199X
Now


All that happened right over there. You can remember it like it was yesterday. Some things have changed since then, while others haven't changed at all.

You have a lot of memories of this place. It will be hard to give it up if something happens. But every year that looks more likely.

Going back inside, you head to the kitchen for a small snack before bed. As usual, there's only plain, basic food, bought to extend every dollar. You're used to it. When you were younger, you thought it was pretty normal to live in a big house but eat nothing but plain meals.

After your snack, you stop by the family shrine to say goodnight to your relatives before bed. The two dark ihai memorial tablets sit silently, as they always do.

Grandmother you remember well. She passed only a few years ago. Without her, the house has been more difficult to manage, but you've taken over the housework and cleaning duties as best you can, and Ryoma has slowly improved at cooking. But you miss having her around, and have many fond memories of her smile and presence.

Father, meanwhile, is only a far-distant memory, an image in old photographs, and the silent presence of the ihai.

As Ryoma said back then, your father was a good man, well loved by his friends, students, and family. As you become older, however, you learn more and more that nothing is ever simple. As it turns out, your father was perhaps more generous than he needed to be to his friends and students. Favors were given, teaching fees were waived, loans were granted and not repaid. Despite his renown and successful school, he didn't build much in the way of savings. When he died, there was little to fall back on, and money became a ongoing problem for the family.

At the time of the incident, you were still a toddler, and Ryoma, still in grade school; by then, mother was already beginning to spend most of her time in the hospital, and your grandparents had retired. Grandmother did what she could to keep things afloat and balance the family budget, but it was all she could do just to put food on the table and forestall the endless series of bills, taxes, inspections, and inquiries. After she passed away, nobody else had her financial or bureaucratic wizardry, and ever since then, the bills have piled up in the study.

Even worse was when, just last week, a group of government inspectors came to your house. They claimed the structures on the property were violating safety regulations, speaking not only of the unused sheds and guest houses that had fallen to ruin, but of the old dojo as well. Grandfather quarreled with them and sent them on their way, but not before they threatened to have the house demolished as unsafe and the property handed off to the real estate companies. Wealthy developers have been hungrily eyeing the family property for some time now, and this seems to be their latest angle of attack.

>>5194080

You meant to go to bed, but instead you find yourself going back outside, looking once more at the garden and the old dojo. The training dummies you practiced with on that day, with Ryoma and Jack, still stand there up against the stone wall.

Your family's long history here means nothing to those real estate companies. It's only a place close to town to tear down, so they can build a mall or condos or some other soulless modern concrete brick of convenience.

Grandmother knew how to forestall those developers with a number of tricks. The most recent one she was working on before she died was having the estate declared a culturally significant property, based on its long history. If that were successful, your home would be untouchable by the developers. You still have the documents she prepared, but there are massive fees, both official and otherwise, that need to be paid to get the paperwork rammed through the bureaucracy.

If you had that money from the tournament, even the ten thousand from signing up ...

You stand in front of the kitchen phone, holding Harada Jin's business card in your hand. You dial the number. The phone picks up after one ring. "Yes? How can I help?" Sounds like him. Not tired at all, despite the late hour.

>Be polite and ask if his offer still stands.
>Ask him some questions, you need to know more before you can commit.
>Say "I'm in," and hang up.

>>5194086
>>Be polite and ask if his offer still stands.

>>5194086
>Be polite and ask if his offer still stands.

>>5194086
>Be polite.

>>5194086
>Ask him some questions, you need to know more before you can commit.

>>5194086
>Be polite and ask if his offer still stands.

>>5194086
>Be polite and ask if his offer still stands.

>>5194086
>Be polite and ask if his offer still stands.

>>5194086


"It's Saito Ayame," you say. "Sorry for calling you this late."

"No problem at all, Saito-san. As I said, you can contact me at any time. I'm at your service."

"I, um --" You hesitate. What Grandfather said about a 'land of wolves' replays in your mind. Just what is it that you're getting into here? It's just a sparring tournament like the ones Ryoma enters into all the time, right? So what are you so afraid of?

"Did you perhaps wish to discuss the offer I extended to you earlier today?" Harada asks after a few moments of silence have passed.

"Uhh, yes. I wanted to know if it still stands. If I can still sign up. And, um, if the bonus for registration is still available."

"Yes, there's still time," Harada says. "Although I believe the window is closing rapidly. There are other suitable candidates who are also currently being pursued by the organization I represent. I can't guarantee your spot will remain available for long. But as of right now, at this moment, yes. My offer still stands."

Struggling under a growing feeling of pressure, you say, "Th-then I'm in. I want to sign up."

"Good to hear. I only need your explicit verbal contract, and we can begin. Do you, Saito Ayame, agree to participate in this year's Kumite tournament?"

"Uh, yes. I agree."

"Excellent. I'll finalize the arrangements now. Congratulations on joining the tournament, Saito-san. I look forward to your participation."

>>5194646

The next few days go by without incident. Harada had said that candidates were still being recruited, so you assume that the schedule and brackets for the tournament are a work in progress, and he'll contact you when there's more information. For now, it's back to just living your life. School, classes, training, sleep, repeat.

You got the money from Harada, but you didn't realize until after you received it that using it would mean telling Grandfather you signed up for the tournament against his wishes. You haven't yet figured out how and when to tell him.

On the last day of the week, your class has a field trip to a historic cultural site planned. You totally forgot about this, with everything else that's happening, but maybe this will help take your mind off things. After a rowdy bus trip across town, your class unloads in front of one of Kyoto's many traditional castles: Seiryujo, or Seiryu Castle, named for the azure dragon of legend, one of the city's spirit guardians.

The castle is open for tours to the general public today, your class being only one of several groups here. The tour guide gives rehearsed speeches about each feature of the castle as you pass by them, the towers, the gardens, the walls. You try to keep your mind off recent events, to concentrate on listening to what the tour guide is saying to the class, and to enjoy the scenery, but it's hard. Not just that feeling of anticipation. Something keeps telling you to be careful here. You don't know what, but something is off.

After some time, you realize what's happening: you keep seeing one woman in particular, a foreigner with long blonde hair tied back in a braid. Fashionable street clothes. She's wearing sunglasses, so it's hard to tell, but you get the feeling she's been watching you in particular. At first, you thought she was just with the tour group behind you, but they left on a different track through the castle a while ago, but that woman is still there, now with a different group, always one tour feature behind you. She might be following you? You know that the tournament organization is international, maybe she works with Harada and is checking up on you ... or maybe something more sinister.

>Confront her.
>Pretend to ignore her, but keep an eye out.
>Split off from your class so they don't get dragged into this.

File: Filename Pending (151).png (120 KB, 400x340)

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>>5194651
>Split off from your class so they don't get dragged into this.
So it begins. CATFIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!

>>5194658
+1GI

>>5194651

When the opportunity presents itself, you slip away from your class, evading the eyes of the teachers and guide, and find a small secluded alcove by a locked staff doorway, where no traffic seems to go. There, you wait to see what happen. Soon enough, the woman with the blonde braid and sunglasses reveals herself and approaches you, stopping at a respectful distance.

"Good morning," she says in accented English. "You understand me, yes?" European of some kind. She's in her mid-twenties, several inches taller than you. "I was starting to wonder when you'd notice me."

"Can I help you?" you ask warily. "Do you work for Harada?"

You're realizing the foolishness of it, even as you speak. This woman is not some secretary or messenger. You know what she is on an instinctual level. Already you can feel the edges of her chi battering at yours, like a fierce wind driving the surface of the sea into waves. This woman is a fighter. She's not like the students at your school, or even Ryoma. She's more like Grandfather.

"Harada? That insect?" The woman laughs. "No, no. I'm here for you, girl. I was surprised when I heard about my matchup, wanted to come see for myself. Guess the rumors are true. Saito's little daughter grew up."

"Did you know my father?"

"Oh, no. Only by reputation. I mean, him being a former champion of the tournament and all." She sees you taken aback by the statement. "Wow, you really don't know anything, do you? About the tournament, about your family ... my handler said you might be in for a rough surprise, but I didn't realize how bad it was." The woman sighs and takes a moment to think, looking around. "All right, I could score myself an easy W right now, but there's no fun in that. Let's take a walk, girl. I need to tell you some things, and then we can take care of our business together." You have a feeling you know what she means by that. "Where do you want to go?"

>The castle roof
>Outside on the sidewalk
>The dojo at my house

>>5194725
>>The castle roof

>>5194725
>The castle roof

>>5194725
>The castle roof
The coolest set-piece of the options.

Man, seeing somebody actually be reasonable and explain things to us is making me realise just how much of a dick move Reiter trying to punch Jack out in his sleep was.

>>5194883
>Statistically superior German attacks unaware opponent
This wouldn't be the first time. Just ask Poland.

>>5194725
>The castle roof

>>5194889
So what you're saying is Poland should've just pulled out the BLAST KNUCKLE?

File: poland.png (45 KB, 240x187)

45 KB PNG

>>5194913
CORRECT

>>5194725
>The castle roof

>>5194725
>The castle roof

File: Seiryu Castle, Kyoto.gif (123 KB, 896x512)

123 KB GIF

>>5194725

An unlocked staff door grants access to an outside maintenance stairway, which leads up to the roofs. There you find a wide, flat, open area bounded by the traditional slanted tile roofs, a little smaller than the dojo back home. You turn to see a grand view of the towering castle keep.

"Ah! Very cool." The blonde woman is also looking up at the castle. "In France, of course, we have many castles, but they are, how do you say ... same but different? "

"We should be able to talk up here without disturbing anyone," you say. "I guess if this tournament is supposed to be some big secret, we should try to keep it private."

"Right. First things first." She puts her sunglasses up to rest on her forehead, revealing a pair of sharp blue eyes. "I'm Claire. Claire Lauren."

"I'm Saito Ayame, but I guess you already knew that."

"Well, now it's official. Nice to meet you, Ayame."

You had heard foreigners jump straight to calling people by their personal name, but it's weird to actually have it happen to you. Still, she's trying to be nice, so you force a smile. "You as well."

"Anyway, if nobody else is going to do it, I'd better fill you in this tournament you've signed up for ..."

The clouds pass by gently overhead as Claire explains a few things.

"People DIE?!" You're aghast at the full truth of what you're learning. Grandfather's most dire warnings couldn't have prepared you for this. "And they fight anywhere? And the finals are at some secret mysterious location every year? Oh man ..."

"Oui, that's the truth of it," Claire says.

"Why didn't Harada tell me all this?"

"He might have assumed you knew already. Your family has a history with the tournament. Or he could have orders. Just goes to show you can't trust the suits. The order's agents, I mean. He could have at least made sure you knew the rules."

With a sinking feeling, you realize the truth of your situation. "And because of the rules, I have to fight wherever we find each other. Meaning right now. Here, on top of a castle. When I'm wearing my school uniform." You were already hoping you didn't get any gawkers and bystanders looking up from the grounds below, but now that you realize you're about to fight in your skirt, it's even more important. Almost as important as the fact that you're about to get thrashed by an older, taller, stronger woman in a death tournament you unwittingly signed up for.

"Just be clear, I don't plan on killing you," Claire says. "I'm not that kind of person. But, yes. We are fighting. I'm nice enough to tell you these things before we begin, so you understand what's about to happen. I'm not so nice as to let you walk away."

"Understandable."

"Are you ready?"

You take a deep breath and let it out halfway, trying to steady yourself. This is happening. No point in putting it off. "Ready as I'll ever be."

>>5195253

Claire walks to the other side of the roof, stretches her arms above her head, loosens up her wrists, hops from one foot to the other. She doesn't take her sunglasses off her forehead. Not really taking this seriously. If she's been watching you during the tour, she might have gotten some idea of how strong you are ... maybe she wasn't impressed. With a smile of anticipation, she takes up her stance. It looks like a standard kickboxing style, standing side-on with feet planted wide, hands raised in a guard position at chin height.

You take up your own stance, choosing a back stance with more weight on your back leg, taking a defensive posture, since you're not sure what you're in for. Very soon, you become completely focused. All your lessons seem to flash through your head at once. Everything your Grandfather taught you, everything Ryoma and Jack , everything passed down to you by your father, it all comes down to this.

The wind gusts past, brisk at this height, but you barely notice. The chatter of voices from the tours below, and the sounds of the city beyond, fade into nothing. You try to let everything go. Don't focus on your breathing, or your muscles, or your posture. Just let it happen. Let the training tell you what to do.

Neither of you leaps to make the first move, but you can feel the tension building. Your chi has already begun to clash, an invisible pressure front forming in the center of the battlefield, like storm winds mounting in intensity, the waves of the ocean below rising ever higher.

>Carefully observe her movements
>Psych up your fighting spirit
>Ask about her style

>>5195254
>>Carefully observe her movements

>>5195254
>Carefully observe her movements

>>5195254
>Carefully observe

>>5195254
>Psych up your fighting spirit

>>5195254
>Psych up your fighting spirit
Ayame might be in a state of focus but I think she's still shaken by the info-dump. Might be a good idea to actually get her head in the game

>>5195254
>Psych up your fighting spirit

>>5195254
>Carefully observe her movements
I think we're already in the zone, and she's got her energy amped. Let's do what we can before showing our full hand

>>5195254
>Psych up your fighting spirit
A slow start could be a death sentence for Ayame. Gotta get in the zone and fucking FOCUS.

>>5195254
>>Psych up your fighting spirit

>>5195254
>Carefully observe her movements

>>5195254
>Psych up your fighting spirit

>>5195254
>Psych up your fighting spirit

We're focused on Arts, so we need to be ready to use them when we need to.

>>5195254

Time to psych yourself up. You might be fighting a woman who's bigger, stronger, and more experienced than you. You might be fighting unprepared in your school uniform on a castle roof. and you might have accidentally signed up for a death tournament. But you're not about to go down without a fight. You're going to show this woman where your own power lies.

Already you can feel your chi start to energize. You open your eight gates part of the way, as grandfather taught you, and as you've practiced many times. Then you open them all the way, something you've only done once, the night of your most strict training. The energy courses through your body, the flow of the eight meridians increasing to become raging torrents. It's almost more than you can handle, a surging cascade of power, and you fight to keep it under control.

Suigetsu-ryu is the moon in water, you remind yourself. Perfect stillness and harmony, reflecting the glory of the heavenly infinite.

What is wind to the vast ocean? It might stir the surface into waves, but the depths of the ocean itself are fathomless. Not the fiercest raging storm in all the skies could disturb the serene power of that endless tranquility.

Your energy quiets and stills. You feel a calmness like you've never felt before. Your chi is no longer clashing against Claire's. It has become a solid wall, unperturbed, impenetrable. The gusts of her energy are rejected and thrown away. In fact, the wall begins to advance on her, your fighting spirit slowly, inexorably crushing its way forward across the battlefield.

You can see Claire's demeanor change as your energy begins to overpower hers. "So that's how it is," she says. "I could tell from observing you that you were raw and inexperienced. I wondered what the Circle was thinking, signing you up. I thought maybe they had lowered their standards. Clearly I was wrong." She stands up straight for a moment, takes her sunglasses off her forehead, and tosses them off the side of the castle roof. Then she takes up her fighting stance again, lower this time, focusing on you more intently. Her own spirit flares to life, eddies of wind whirling around her. Leaves from the nearby trees are torn from their branches and fly through the air, caught on the spiralling wind.

The tension is reaching its breaking point. The clash will begin any moment. All it needs is a trigger. A snapping twig, a unexpected movement, a sudden decision, it could be anything.

>Strike first
>Defend and retaliate
>Evade and observe

>>5196403
>Strike first
While we might be outmatched on paper, we can still seize victory with better tactics and execution.
That begins with seizing the initiative and putting our opponent on the backfoot.

>>5196403
>Strike first

>>5196403
>Strike first

>>5196403
>Strike first

>>5196403
>>Strike first

>>5196403
>Strike first

>>5196403
>Strike first

>>5196403
>>Strike first

>>5196403

You decide to take the initiative. Strike first and strike hard. But it seems like Claire has the same idea, because at some unspoken signal, you both charge at the same moment, and strike at the same time. Neither of you commit fully to offense, so you're each able to block the other's blow, but Claire's longer reach means she lands hers first, a high kick that you have to block with your forearm, a jarring impact that throws your own strike off balance, robbing it of its effect. It's the hardest hit you've ever blocked, and you realize now that Ryoma and Grandfather have never really used their full strength against you, that the small tournaments you participated in as a younger student really were trick shows. This is what a real fight feels like. All you can do is endure and adapt.

Daring to dart inwards, you get in close and hit with a swift combination of rapid palm and fist strikes to the chest, each blow doing little damage but keeping your opponent off balance, finishing with an upwards strike. Claire staggers but comes back with a reverse side kick that catches you off guard, you just barely dodge it in time, but Claire spins, jumps, and kicks hard with the other leg, and that one you only partly dodge.

An even exchange, both of you taking some good hits there but also dishing them out. You both back off for a moment. Your head is racing with what you learned in that exchange. You might be a little faster, but she's got range and power, and experience. What can you do to get an advantage?

Claire starts to circle around, looking relaxed. You try not to tense up as you follow her movements. "Not bad," she says. "Guess I underestimated you. I thought you might be coasting on a big name, but you're the real deal. Daisuke's father must be teaching you. Let's see if he taught you about this!"

In one swift motion she jumps forward and turns, raises one leg up high, and brings her heel crashing downwards, a jumping axe kick with extra force. You're able to block by crossing your forearms above your head, but the power of the blow still feels like it drives you downward into the roof, you're surprised the wood doesn't crack under your feet. She turns and launches a straight kick with the other leg and that knocks you off balance, your ass hits the ground but acting on your instincts from training you're already rolling and back up on your feet.

You can only block so many of these powerful kicks. You need some kind of advantage or change in momentum, and you need it now. Flower arts would be perfect in this exact situation, where you need evasiveness and explosive counter-power, but it's the aspect of the Setsugekka technique you had the most trouble with, what if you mess up?

>Seize a better position
>Cut off her attacks before they start
>Search for weaknesses in her style
>[Flower] It's worth the risk

>>5196970
>>[Flower] It's worth the risk
Flower power y'all

>>5196970
>[Flower] It's worth the risk
We'll never learn if we shy away just because we might screw it up. This is the perfect scenario for it, I say there's no reason to hold back on it. Arts is our jam.

>>5196970
>[Flower] It's worth the risk
You miss every shot you don't take.

>>5196970
>Flower

So what if we might risk messing it up?! You only learn under pressure!

>>5196970
>[Flower] It's worth the risk

>>5196970
>>[Flower] It's worth the risk

>>5196970
>[Flower] It's worth the risk

>>5196970
>Cut off her attacks before they start
Fuck the hive mind

>>5196970
>Seize a better position

>>5196970
>>[Flower] It's worth the risk

>>5196970
>[Flower] It's worth the risk

You cannot catch a cub without entering the tiger's den.

>>5196970

No reason to hold back now. You can only win here if you trust yourself and everything you have. You need to be prepared to do something crazy, like rely on a technique you learned earlier this week and still haven't got the hang of. Talk about learning under pressure.

You're so preoccupied with mentally preparing the arts strike that you're almost caught out when Claire interrupts her kick series with a throw attempt, but Ryoma's lessons on guard breaking have taught you what to do in this situation, and you throw your weight back at her, and it's enough to dislodge yourself and get space again. Claire goes right back on the offense, but this time you're ready for her.

Be the flowers blooming in spring. The petals of the cherry tree, blown on the wind. No weight, no substance, only grace ...

Leaping and turn upwards with one arm raised, you surround yourself with a circular maelstrom of sakura petals, a spiralling bloom of energy that evades Claire's strike entirely while counter-striking with the full force of your arts ability. The powerful impact sends her flying backwards, crash-landing on her back on the roof.

Claire takes a moment before getting up again, pausing to spit blood from a split lip. "So. You do know how to use that battle spirit of yours for something." You can feel her own power swelling. She's been holding back arts abilities of her own. The wind rises in furious, unstable squalls, forming visible streams of air flowing upwards around her. "Truly you have a champion's blood. But not enough else. Time to let go of your foolish dreams, little girl." A roundhouse kick slices a vortex through the wind, creating a cutting-edged crescent that hurtles towards you. Not expecting an attack at that distance, you don't have time to step away, only duck back and throw your arms up reflexively; the wind slice cuts across your arms and your forehead, drawing blood and sending a sharp stinging pain through both arms.

Shocked into focus, you step back and to the side to dodge another wind slash, but without realizing it you've backed up to the edge of the castle roof, and the third slash is aimed not at you, but at the roof beneath your feet. The ancient stones crumble, you lose balance, and you fall off the side. "You've got to be kidding meeEEE--"

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389 KB GIF

>>5197925

A tall tree breaks your fall as you crash into its topmost heights; you thump off several branches before you desperately manage to grab hold of one.

Well, here you are, halfway up a tree. Seems like only yesterday you were doing this to rescue Mittens the cat. Not fighting for your life against an insane French woman. How does that fight seem like it's going? Right at this moment, not great. Speaking of which, she's following you down here, and unless you want to try to learn monkey style real fast, youi'd better get down to the ground.

There's a steep embankment below the tree, which you have to descend to find level ground; and that's how, without realizing it, you find yourself outside the castle walls, on the sidewalk. Strangers are staring, and no wonder, it's not every day a highschool girl drops out of a tree. But you try to ignore them. None of them are close enough to be in danger, even with arts blasting off, and this is no time to get embarassed and lose focus, or even worse, think about how much trouble you're going to be in with Grandpa after this.

Claire drops in beside you, using air currents to slow her descent from the castle. "Had enough?"

The ocean of your chi is still raging. "Not a chance."

She grins and takes her stance again. "I was hoping you'd say that. I know you have more to show me. Let's see it." Her spirit rises again, streams of wind flowing upwards.

>[Snow] Falling Snow Strike
>[Moon] Moonlight Cutter
>Improvise, do something unexpected

>>5197927
>[Moon] Moonlight Cutter

>>5197927
>Moon
She will dodge otherwise.

>>5197927
>[Moon] Moonlight Cutter

>>5197927
>[Moon] Moonlight Cutter
Man, what is it with us and getting outranged?

>>5197927
>>[Moon] Moonlight Cutter

>>5197925
>[Moon] Moonlight Cutter

>>5197927
>[Moon] Moonlight Cutter

>>5197927
>[Moon] Moonlight Cutter

>>5197927
>>[Moon] Moonlight Cutter

>>5197927

Your opponent might be stronger than you, physically; but your years of training under Grandfather, and whatever natural talent you possess, gives you the edge in raw spirit power. You saw that at the start of the match, when your fighting spirit started to overpower hers. You're not afraid to take her moves head-on, and challenge them with your own.

The next time Claire moves, you move as well. The Moonlight Cutter is a spin kick that creates and sends off a shimmering crescent of silver-blue light through the air. It meets the oncoming windstream slash halfway. Both moves collide and burst apart in a flash of wind and light. Before you're ready to attack again, Claire is already firing off a second wind slash, and you're forced to dodge. She has more experience here, she's clearly trained to snap these off one after the other indefinitely, whereas you haven't even known this move for a week. She has you outmatched here. This isn't going to be enough. You're going to have to go beyond this. But how?

There is one thing. Something that not even Grandfather taught you. Something you read once, in one of the ancient scrolls of Suigetsu-ryu, in the days when you used to sneak a look at Grandfather's trove of secret techniques. The Double Cutter.

But -- that's crazy! To bet the climax of the fight on a technique you've never practiced, or even been taught, just a hazy memory of a diagram in an ancient scroll? No way. Plus for it to work, you'd need to have flawless timing. Just a moment too early, or too late, and you'll have thrown the match. You have to back down from this idea, think of something else --

No. You've come this far by pushing your limits, giving it everything you thought you had and then more. You can't back down now. Your whole being focuses in on this, every muscle and nerve ready.

>>5199895

When the next wind slash fires off, you jump up and spin kick not once, but twice, one leg following the other, focusing chi into both strikes, a feat that requires all your agility and energy in one go. The first kick builds up chi as a shield, to absorb the enemy's attack; the second adds additional strength and fires it off. The timing is right. Claire's wind attack dissipates harmlessly against the shield created by your first kick; the second kick reinforces the energy and imparts momentum, firing it across the battlefield. It lands, and Claire goes down.

You should pursue and try to get a good position when she's on the ground, but you're exhausted from the chi expenditure and from the blows you've taken throughout the fight. It's all you can do to stay standing and ready as Claire gets back up to her feet. She looks like she's in the same situation as you. Nobody's got energy for questions or comments. Your eight paths feel like they're on fire, and you can't coax any more energy from them, but you think that Claire's in the same position. You're both out of arts, and out of stamina. The next exchange will decide things.

>Get in there and finish it
>Defend and watch for an opening
>Taunt

>>5199896
>Defend and watch for an opening
Okay, let's actually chill for a second. She'll make a mistake, because she's exhausted, and we can try and capitalise.

>>5199896
>Taunt

>>5199896
>Defend and watch for an opening

>>5199896
>Defend

>>5199896
>Get in there and finish it
No hesitation.
I was also originally gonna vote to taunt, but the horrors of the TGBC are still ingrained in my mind.

>>5199896
>Get in there and finish it
Don't give up the initiative

>>5199896
>>Get in there and finish it

>>5199896
>Defend and watch for an opening
We've been playing a cautious, young fighter who has training in evasion and accuracy. We're on our last legs and gotta make these last hits count. Don't rush in, when for all we know, our opponent has a Body Counter ready to crunch our ribs for a last stand technique

>>5199896

You have a feeling that Claire still has some offense in her. She won't go down just passively defending, you judge. She'll wait until the right moment, then throw out a last attack with everything she has. It's just the sort of thing that would turn the tables against an inexperienced opponent, rushing in to claim a victory. So you won't give her the opportunity.

Slowly and carefully, you approach your opponent, and so it is that you're prepared and tensed to evade when you throw out a feint and she strikes. A high spinning kick -- you duck under -- a low sweep kick -- you jump over -- and when the third kick comes, right in the middle, you're ready for it, and a counter-kick jams the attack, robbing it of its force.

Switching feet with a hop you drive the other foot straight out, hitting Claire in the chest, and after just barely keeping your balance on landing you jump again with a high spinning roundhouse that blasts through her block attempt, striking her in the head.

The kick knocks her off balance to the side; her legs collapse under her and she falls down; after a few seconds she tries to get back up, but she can't find any strength in her limbs. You step forward, wondering if you need to do something to finish this, but you hestitate at striking an opponent who might be done, so you give her a few seconds; sure enough, she can't manage to stand up, and eventually has to admit defeat and collapse back with a groan of frustration.

Did you really do it? Did you actually win?

It was hardly graceful or easy. You can barely breathe or stand, you're covered in bruises and cuts, your chi centers are drained, and you still have sticks in your hair from falling through that tree. But you're still standing, and she's not. That counts. Whatever else, that counts as a win.

As you lose your intense focus on the fight, you realize that you've drawn a crowd of onlookers. You're not sure what to do now that it's over.

>Advertise your karate class to the crowd
>Get out of here before you draw any more attention to yourself
>Make sure your opponent is all right

>>5200747
>Advertise your karate class to the crowd

>>5200747
>Make sure your opponent is all right

>>5200747
>>Advertise your karate class to the crowd

>>5200747
>Check that Claire is still breathing
>Get out of here.

>>5200747
>Make sure your opponent is all right

>>5200747
>>5200810
Actually no, changing vote to
>Advertise your karate class to the crowd

>>5200747
>Advertise your karate class to the crowd

>>5200747
>Advertise your karate class to the crowd