The tension in the air is palpable as Maki and Makima prepare to face each other. Maki, with her gaze fixed on her cousin, feels every fiber of her body urging her to look away, to surrender, but she refuses. She won't bow down again. She watches as Makima smiles, as if all this were nothing more than a simple distraction. "To make it fair for you, I won't use cursed energy. It'll just be a fistfight."
Panda, sensing the charged atmosphere, takes a few steps back to give them space. Makima, with impeccable calm, removes her coat, discards her tie, and rolls up her sleeves, adopting the combat stance she learned from her brother Naoya. Seeing her, Maki feels her hands tremble, and a fleeting memory assaults her: the aimless beatings she received from Naoya and Makima when she was a child, the cruelty she endured without reason. She shakes her head, clearing those memories, and adopts her own combat stance.
"The rules are simple," says Makima, her tone carefree but with an edge to her voice. "The loser is whoever surrenders or stays on the ground for ten seconds. Panda will count." He nods, eyes wide open, prepared for anything.
Maki takes a deep breath. She can't give Makima even a second of advantage. With a cry of determination, she launches herself toward her, aiming to strike first, to dominate the fight from the start. Makima, however, waits motionless, intently analyzing her movements.
Maki advances with a direct punch to Makima's face, which she dodges at the last second, pivoting on her foot to return a side kick. Maki blocks the blow with her forearm, but the impact resonates in her bones. Wasting no time, she throws a series of quick, precise punches, leveraging her physical strength to try to break through Makima's defense. The latter moves with precision, dodging or deflecting each punch with a few movements that irritate Maki. It's as if Makima already knew each of her attacks in advance.
"Come on, Maki," whispers Makima with a calm smile. "I know you can do better than that."
Frustrated, Maki redoubles her efforts, aiming a hook at her cousin's jaw. Makima dodges by leaning back and, in a single fluid motion, uses her position to trap Maki's arm, pinning her to the ground with a hold. Makima leans over her, whispering in her ear while holding her arm.
"I know I was bad to you and still am, but I just want you to admit your place," she murmurs softly, her tone gentle but loaded with authority. "If you do, we could certainly be very good friends."
Makima's words echo in Maki's mind, almost like a tempting melody promising her relief from all the pressure. For a moment, something in her seems to want to yield, feeling that surrendering would be easier. But her cousin's voice becomes an oppressive echo, as if trying to manipulate her own will. With a cry of rage and determination, Maki manages to silence that urge, channeling all her strength to break free from the hold and release her arm from Makima's trap.
The fight continues, and this time it's Makima who takes the offensive, moving with a fluidity that betrays her training. She throws a series of precise punches, each one hitting spots that destabilize Maki: a blow to the solar plexus, another to her side, another to her stomach. The precision is so exact they almost seem like strikes meant to activate projection sorcery, though Makima, of course, has no intention of using it here. She just wants to show Maki her absolute dominance over the situation.
Maki steps back, breathing heavily, but she doesn't give up. Makima's physical strength is surprising, but Maki knows it's her own will that must prevail. Ignoring the pain and pressure, she lunges at Makima again, this time with a feint. She manages to deceive her and lands a direct punch to her cousin's jaw, who stumbles for the first time. A flash of surprise crosses Makima's face, and Maki seizes the moment to pounce on her, launching a relentless barrage of punches.
The fight reaches a fever pitch, both cousins in a fierce exchange of attacks and defenses. Maki, with blows filled with resentment and determination, seeks not only to defeat Makima but to show her that she will never accept being subdued. And Makima, cold and calculating, continues to demonstrate her skill and technical superiority, each blow with the same impeccable precision.
Finally, both separate, breathing heavily, their gazes locked on each other. Makima smiles, this time with a small mark on her face where Maki's fist landed. "Not bad," she comments with calm satisfaction. But Maki doesn't allow herself even a moment to rest; her will is of steel, and she knows that, although she's won this exchange, the true battle with Makima is far from over.
Makima, with a barely concealed look of enjoyment, adopts another stance. Her eyes shine with an intensity that's almost unsettling, as if the fight were a fascinating game that only she understands. Maki, undeterred, returns to her combat stance, her muscles tense, her senses alert. She knows that this time she must be more careful; every move could be decisive.
Without warning, Makima lunges at Maki, with a precision and agility that seem honed by years of training and absolute control over herself. Maki tries to block the first blow, but Makima is already one step ahead, twisting and trapping one of her arms. Before Maki can react, her cousin pushes her to the ground with a quick motion, trapping her in a leg-and-arm hold, completely immobilizing her. Makima's grip is relentless, her legs wrapping around Maki and her arm held at an angle that threatens dislocation.
"Surrender," whispers Makima, with the same soft, persuasive voice, no apparent effort in her tone. "Just accept your place, Maki. It'll be better for both of us."
Maki feels her cousin's weight on her, the constant pressure that threatens to shatter her defenses, both physical and mental. Something in Makima's words, in the proximity of her voice, almost manages to seep into her mind, like a shadow hinting at the temptations of surrender. But with a cry of pure determination, Maki tries to break free, though she knows the hold is too solid.
Panda begins to count, and each number feels like a sentence. "One… two…" Maki's breathing grows frantic, but she refuses to give in.
Makima, however, holds the lock without any additional effort. "Just admit it," she whispers once more, her tone almost paternalistic. Maki, defeated but still full of pride, breathes deeply, allowing the count to finish as her exhausted body remains under her cousin's control.
Reaching "ten," Panda sighs and lowers his head in acceptance. Makima finally lets go, standing up with a calm expression of satisfaction. From above, she looked at Maki, who was still breathing heavily on the ground, trying to process the defeat and the sharp pain in her body. "Good fight," Makima pronounced in a soft tone but loaded with intent. With one hand, she touched the faint mark on her jaw, the result of the only blow Maki had managed to land. "Seems you're not as useless after all…" she murmured, her voice cold. She paused and added with a touch of irony, "I hope this serves you somehow."
Without another word, Makima turned, indifferent to Maki's reaction. She took her coat and tie, and, letting loose her now disheveled braid, she made a simple ponytail with the precision and elegance that characterized her. Her presence vanished with firm steps, leaving the place in an unsettling silence.
Panda, who had watched every moment of the fight from a prudent distance, hurried over to Maki, looking at her with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, leaning toward her. Maki, still sitting on the ground, gazed at the spot where Makima had been moments before, her figure now only a recent, oppressive memory. Although she had lost, something deep inside her wanted to cling to the feeling of having made at least a small impact on her cousin. Or maybe she was just succumbing to the poisoned subtlety of her words.
With a sigh that released accumulated tension, Maki shook her head, trying to shake off the strange charm that still lingered in the air. "Yes... I'm fine," she finally murmured. She wasn't sure if those words were a comfort to herself or a way to break free from the weight of Makima's influence.