Aspen stood leaning against a tree outside the arena, his chest still tight from the match. He had won, but not without making a fool of himself. The image of Mei climbing onto his shoulders, choking him, gnawed at his pride. He clenched his jaw, angry with himself.
Inside the arena, the elder called the next names "next Vijay and Vaibhav"
Vijay stepped forward first, his knuckle knives already lodged onto his hands, blades jutting outward, perfectly suited for stabbing. Vaibhav followed, daggers in both hands, his stance solid and measured. They were classmates, so they both knew each other's habits and tricks.
Vaibhav held his daggers in a normal grip, giving himself maximum reach his kicks ready whenever his opponent tried to close distance. If he could keep Vijay at arm's length, the fight was his, because Vijay used knuckles, close and explosive so distance was the key to win this fight.
Vijay, wanted to rush in, to close the gap from the very start of the match.
The elder signaled.
Vijay ran forward, charging head on. Vaibhav slashed in advance to stop his advance but Vijay ignored the incoming strike, focusing only on closing the distance. He jumped in, his left knee lifting high before snapping his leg back to launch himself forward, his right fist going towards Vaibhav's face.
But Vaibhav didn't finish his slash. Instead, he shifted his weight backwards and drove his left leg straight out. His foot crashing into Vijay's face, the impact's sound cracked across the arena.
The force send Vijay flying backwards, his momentum broken in an instant. He fell back, the crowd gasped as Vijay got up from the ground. His cheek burned red, swelling where the blow had landed.
Vaibhav reset his stance, daggers raised his eyes sharp. Vijay shook his head, gritting his teeth, the sting of the kick still throbbing across his face. He adjusted his stance, ready to dive back in.
But Vaibhav didn't rush. He didn't need to. He knew the more patient he remained, the more control he will have. The moment he closed the distance, the fight would tilt in Vijay's favor. Vijay's strength was in close range fight and he knew that very well.
So Vaibhav stayed calm. He stabled his breathing, kept his daggers steady, and maintained the gap between them. His plan was clear, deal steady damage first, wear Vijay down, and only then close in to finish the match.
The crowd shouted for action, but Vaibhav refused to take the bait. His eyes tracking every moment.
Vijay rubbed his swollen cheek with the back of his hand. His head still spinning from the kick, he had wanted to end the fight quickly, but now he was confused "should I rush in again or close the distance slowly?" he thought. He knew one thing the longer this dragged on, the more damage he would accumulate.
So he moved. Not recklessly this time. Step by step, he advanced, stopping just before, where Vaibhav's daggers could cut.
They stood still, the pressure increasing even the crowd stayed silent wanting to see their next move . Vaibhav's arms stayed firm, daggers raised and ready.
Vijay began to bounce on his feet, hopping in the same place as if warming up. The dust rising under his boots with each little jump. Vaibhav tensed, waiting for the strike, but Vijay only kept jumping lightly on the same spot again and again.
Then Vijay jumped back, retreating half a step, only to bounce forward onto the same place. He repeated it, again and again, a rhythm that looked pointless. The crowd grew restless, shouting, calling him coward urging him to rush in, but Vijay didn't pay them any attention.
This time, when Vijay came back from to his origin place, he exploded forward with all the momentum, he had build. His body shot in too fast to track, his fist launching forward.
SMACK!
His fist slammed into Vaibhav's jaw, snapping his head sideways. The crowd erupted as the deadlock shattered.
Hell broke loose.
Both fighters erupted into a storm of swings.
At such close range, Vaibhav's daggers couldn't gather much force. His slashes turned into hurried cuts, shallow and rushed. Vijay, on the other hand, thrived in the close range. His fists hammered into Vaibhav's body, blades carving lines across his ribs and shoulders. His knuckles landing heavy blows, sending bursts of pain through Vaibhav's frame.
Vaibhav tried to retreat, but each time he backstepped Vijay closed in, whenever he moved Vijay moved, wherever he moved Vijay was there not letting him to make distance between them, Vijay stuck to him like a shadow. Whenever Vaibhav raised a dagger, Vijay's elbow knocked his wrist aside. Whenever Vaibhav slashed low, Vijay's fist drove into his stomach, disturbing his balance.
Trapped, Vaibhav's eyes narrowed with a desperate idea.
He surged forward instead of going backwards. His arms wrapped around Vijay, pulling him into a clinch. He let his full weight collapse onto him, dragging both of them down. As they staggered, Vaibhav stabbed hard with his daggers into Vijay's back.
Steel screeched against armor. The blades didn't sink deep, the plates protected him but Vaibhav gritted his teeth and dragged them downward, carving lines along his back.
Vijay screamed with pain, slammed his fist into Vaibhav's chest and shoved him away.
Vaibhav staggered backwards. He raised a dagger, slashing forward in a wide arc barely slashing Vijay's tunic.
Both fighters froze, chests heaving, blood streaking their arms. Their earlier plans had failed, neither Vaibhav could keep the distance, nor Vijay could end it quickly. Now both had accumulated damage, their breaths ragged, sweat dripping down their faces.
For a long moment, neither moved. Then, with a sharp exhale, Vijay lowered his stance and charged.
Vaibhav this time met him head on, teeth clenched, daggers flashing. His blades slashed in a desperate storm, cutting low toward the ribs, another sweeping high, giving a thrust towards his throat, this time Vijay did not ignored his defense. He sidestepped dodging the slash and parried the nest attack, letting steel scrape against his knuckle blade, Vaibhav pushed in letting the blade slide as his fist slammed into Vaibhav's chin, snapping his head back. The next punch cracked against his temple "crack" with the sound of crack the crowd roared.
Vaibhav's vision spun. His knees wavered.
Vijay showed no mercy. His fists rained down in a merciless barrage, knuckle knives cutting with every strike. Blow after blow crashed into Vaibhav's face and chest, each one heavier than the last, the sound of impact echoing through the arena.
Finally, Vijay planted his foot against Vaibhav's chest and kicked hard.
Vaibhav's already half conscious body toppled backward, collapsing flat onto the dirt. His daggers slipped from his hands as silence swept over the arena.
The elder raised his hand.
"Winner Vijay!"
The scoreboard shifted: Vijay, 2 points. Vaibhav, 0.
The crowd roared, Vaibhav was rushed to infirmary, as the doctor declared his condition serious letting his with draw from next match disqualifying him from the semi-finals.
Ps: knuckle knives just like Asuma from Naruto