Steel rang like a struck bell as Saeko's katana met Yuuko's parry, the impact vibrating up Saeko's arms, a thrumming pulse that resonated with something deep in her bones.
She felt her foot giving in, the uneven concrete betraying her for a half-second as Yuuko flowed around her defense like water.
The white-haired woman moved with a liquid grace that defied physics.
Her sword traced silver arcs through the crimson-lit darkness, each strike faster than Saeko had time to react, each parry forcing the younger girl further and further back.
The purple-haired girl couldn't find a window to strike back. Step by step, Saeko was pushed back, until her back touched a container. She dived into a roll just as Yuuko's blade gutted the container's belly wide open, mangling the metal in a way that a wrecking ball would've.
Saeko recovered from the roll, rose up to one knee and leveled her katana overhead with both hands, clashing against Yuuko's relentless pursuit. Sparks rained on Saeko's grim face.
With a grunt, Saeko pushed her off to give herself enough time to stand up. Yuuko was immediately back on her, their blades clapping and skidding off each other.
Tysone winced each time.
He and Miku were caught in the strange impromptu theater that had unfolded in front of them. The white-haired woman, who appeared to be in her mid-twenties and incredibly, absurdly strong, had managed to overwhelm his party's prodigious kendo champion.
A young woman who, ever since the dawn of the apocalypse, had never feared zombies, even when overwhelmed by numerical advantage.
Now she had finally met her match.
No, more than a match, Yuuko was like the peak of what Saeko was pursuing.
But Saeko had spent weeks fighting zombies, honing her survival instincts, improving her technique, becoming faster.
She wasn't the type to just roll over and die when cornered.
The clash of blades drew her mind back to the fight.
With a ferociousness that impressed Yuuko herself, Saeko found some measure of stability within the unsteadiness and delivered an explosive swing that would've carved a boulder in two, if only it had connected.
Even with the white-haired woman dodging by a hair's breadth, Saeko managed to graze her, slicing Yuuko's arm a tiny bit.
The woman merely cocked her head sideways, eyeing her wounded arm.
"A light cut?"
The moment of rest did nothing for Saeko, the blood that slowly seeped out of her injuries keeping her alert, alive, excited and afraid.
This was more thrilling than any fight before; this was something that threatened her existence, and Saeko had never been a coward.
A devilish smile split her beautiful face, her once-neat and maintained clothing now riddled by a series of thin lines and tears.
Saeko threw herself at Yuuko.
Steel rang out, two blurred after-images appearing in the wake of the blurring blades.
Spark danced off the katanas, flickering briefly, and then falling as ash. Saeko, fighting with all the ferocity her bushido training could muster, found herself constantly a half-step behind, despite the overwhelming speed and power behind her blows.
Blood slicked Saeko's grip where a shallow cut had opened on her palm. She ignored it, focusing instead on the heartbeat of their dance—clash, separate, advance, retreat.
Yuuko's breathing remained steady, almost meditative, while Saeko's came in ragged bursts between strikes.
"You're enjoying this, hmm~" Yuuko observed, her blade hissing past Saeko's ear, close enough for a strand of purple hair to fall away, severed cleanly.
Saeko didn't answer, instead pivoting on her heel to bring her sword around in a horizontal sweep aimed at Yuuko's waist.
The white-haired woman bent backward at an impossible angle, the blade passing harmlessly over her torso.
As Saeko's momentum carried her past, Yuuko's leg shot out, connecting with Saeko's ribs.
The impact sent pain radiating through Saeko's side, sharp and immediate. She stumbled but kept her footing, spinning back to face her opponent with a grin that showed blood-stained teeth. "Aren't you?"
Yuuko's smile was thin. "Professionally."
The next exchange was faster, a blur of motion that even Tysone himself could've easily missed if he didn't pay attention.
Saeko abandoned technique for pure instinct, her movements becoming less precise but more unpredictable. She feinted high, then dropped low, her katana scraping against Yuuko's as she forced her way inside the woman's guard.
Their faces were inches apart now, Saeko could see the faint scar above Yuuko's left eyebrow, the way her pupils dilated slightly in the heat of battle. She could smell the metallic tang of blood in the air, feel the warmth of Yuuko's breath against her cheek.
For a moment, their swords locked, muscles straining, neither giving ground.
Saeko's arms trembled with the effort, sweat beading on her forehead despite the cool night air. She could feel Yuuko's strength, the power in those slender arms, the absolute certainty of her movements and technique. A true master.
The white-haired woman continued to stare into her eyes, unblinking. Her expression was unreadable.
Saeko began to feel something stir inside of her, something rising up through the surface, breaking through the waves.
'... Yes.' She thought, grinning to herself.
'More. More. More.'
There was an addictive quality to this, the same exhilaration she got from hunting zombies.
Only this time she was facing a creature on par with her in the field of slaughter and chaos. No, she was better. In a way, Saeko was learning a lot from this fight.
Then Yuuko twisted her wrists in a subtle motion that broke Saeko's grip.
Saeko's katana skittered away across the concrete as Yuuko's blade flattened against her throat.
Saeko stood frozen, pulse hammering in her ears, breath caught in her throat.
"Do you yield?" Yuuko's voice was low.
"I... can't..."
Saeko's mind raced. She could try to disarm Yuuko, but the position was hopeless. She could call for Tysone's help, but that would admit defeat. Most of all, she could feel the displeasure rising within her.
Instead of answering, Saeko slowly raised her hands, palms outward in a gesture of surrender. But as she did, her foot slid forward, hooking behind Yuuko's ankle. With a sharp tug, she threw the white-haired woman off balance.
Yuuko stumbled forward, her blade lowering slightly. It was all the opening Saeko needed. She drove her elbow into Yuuko's sternum, following through with a knee to the abdomen that doubled the woman over. Despite the gap in skill, the gap in physical prowess wasn't that significant.
As Yuuko gasped for air, Saeko recovered her katana, spinning back into a defensive stance, chest heaving, blood dripping from the cut on her cheek to spatter on the concrete below.
Yuuko straightened slowly, rubbing her chest where Saeko had struck her. A genuine smile now touched her lips.
"Not bad." She acknowledged, raising her sword again. "But this ends now."
As the two women circled each other warily, Saeko had to wonder at her life choices so far. The white-haired woman fought almost purely off the premise that there wouldn't be a battle to end but simply a slaying. There was no fear or concern in those eyes.
Was that really the right philosophy in a place where evolution ruled? Was a warrior like Yuuko an enigma to the times or someone that transcended those boundaries?
Or maybe she was both.
Those thoughts ended as they engaged in combat once more, and all Saeko could think about was surviving, matching the white-haired woman with an instinct to survive rather than defeat, but defeat loomed ever so close.
Exhaustion mounted.
A lungful of air that never filled her burning lungs.
Lack of coordination eventually took its toll.
Strength faded, along with mental strength.
It was then the line was crossed.
The right leg folded as if made of straw under her weight, bringing her face forward and forcing Saeko to drop her katana with the tips of fingers to catch herself from the faceplant and avoid the dishonorable death of being defeated on the ground.
The fall, though, left Saeko dazed and momentarily defenseless, unable to reach her weapon as the white-haired woman stalked closer with a triumphant smirk on her face.
"Enough."
Tysone decided that being a spectator wasn't amusing anymore, as much as the exhibition he witnessed had impressed him greatly.
"Hmm. Don't you know that it's dishonorable to intrude on another's duel?"
"I'd rather be dishonorable than watch one of my friends killed without doing anything about it, since honor would be the last thing on your list of worries were our positions exchanged." Tysone remarked dryly as he stepped forward.
Author's Note:
If you're enjoying the story and want to read ahead or support my work, you can check out my P@treon at [email protected]/LordCampione. But don't worry—all chapters will eventually be public. Just being here and reading means the world to me. Thank you for your time and support.