The dark blue hues of the evening sky poured in through Mr. Fry's classroom, the sun having long since set. A mixture of panting and sobbing filled the room that was dead silent otherwise, the musty air mixed with the scent of blood made every breath hold weight. Maze remained on Mr. Fry's desk, her tears flowing out with no end. The lump in her throat, the throb in her head and most of all the void in her chest all tortured the former Head leader. It was a nightmare with no end. A cruel joke with no punchline.
Mr. Fry's unconscious body laid under the blackboard, his nose bloodied, and his eyes rolled back with an obvious red bruise staining his pale cheek. By the floor of the shattered door rested Nami, trembling. Sweat ran down her scalp as immense waves of pain enveloped her right leg.
How did it get like this? Everyone she loved, everything she dreamed of, everything she cared about. Taken within the blink of an eye.
The rhythmic sound of feet sliding across the mat echoed through the dojo as Nami adjusted her stance, moving as if she was dancing to an unheard beat. She swept her arm in a slow, deliberate arc, her movements fluid as water. Across from her, Mitchell watched intently, beads of sweat forming on his brow. They had stayed in the dojo even after their training with the combat club, and Mitchell was reasonably exhausted.
"Water-God artists, just like other artists, are ranked by their proficiency with the principals of their art." Nami started, her tone steady. "The lowest rank, the Droplets, struggle to keep their movements fluid. Their bodies are rigid and techniques, predictable. Then, if we go 3 ranks up, there's you, the Rivercallers, who understand flow but can't adapt quickly in battle."
As she spoke, Nami lunged forward, grabbing his arm before he reversed her grip to fire a counter palm that missed. With his body off center, she used his force and pulled him in for a monkey flip and the second his back slammed the mat, she was already on top of him pinning his attacking arm under her armpit.
"Skip another rank and then you get the Sea-Masters."
She got off him and allowed him to get on his feet. "What do you think separates my rank from yours, Mitchell?" She asked as the two circled each other.
"It's flow." He answered. "What separates each rank in Water-God style is the mastery of flow." Nami smiled and lunged in with incredible speed, firing a powerful palm to the chest that he spun to counter with a back hand that she weaved under.
"Correct." She said landing a palm on his chest before gripping his shirt to pull him in for an overhead throw. Slamming him back first on the hard mat. Just as he bounced off the floor she flipped and landed on his chest, pinning his arms under her knee and firing a palm, stopping a hair's width away from his chin.
Mitchell's eyes opened in awe as he was practically rag dolled by the girl barely half his body weight. Experiencing her attacks firsthand, he likened it to drowning in a river with a violent current.
"You still have a long way to go if you're ever going to be a challenge to me. Granted, if I lose to you then you'd be the new Sea-Master in town." Nami gave him a playful flick on the nose before she got off, offering a hand to him.
It's just as I guessed… Mitchell thought while taking her hand. He groaned as he got up on his feet. I was never a match for her.
"If that's your way of saying 'good job,' I'll take it. What about Wind-God style? Aren't you a master in that too?" He asked, figuring maybe he'd have better luck with another discipline.
Nami's smile faltered. She turned away, adjusting the wraps on her hands. "You seem to believe that you can beat me in all my disciplines, amusing." She faked a laugh, hoping that she'd evaded the question.
"You're good, I admit that. And I'm far from getting one up on you," He stopped, looking at the floor as he thought about what to say.
"But?" Nami interrupted, growing impatient from the cliffhanger Mitchell left her on.
"Well, let's just say if a tiny thing like you made it, then there's still hope for me." Nami rolled her eyes. The height difference between them wasn't even that drastic.
"Let's just head to the showers, Moe is waiting on us." Nami walked to the showers with Mitchell in tow, until he stopped halfway. "Wait a minute, you didn't answer my question." He mentioned looking at Nami for an answer.
"I am a Wind-God Master." Nami said plainly.
"Then why don't you teach me?"
"Why don't we not talk about it." She shot back, her sharp glare cutting through the air like a blade.
"Alright, alright. I get it, no Wind-God questions." Mitchell mimicked a zip over his lips, raising his arms up in surrender. With the conversation dropped the two continued in silence, their footsteps echoing in the empty dojo as they walked to the showers
The warm shower Nami took after all her training felt long overdue. On top of being a Combat Club member, she had to be Mitchell's instructor. Not that he was any bad as a student, with his vigor and determination for the art, he was a joy to instruct. No, the issue was with her.
As much as she didn't want to admit, the injury she sustained after the tournament had greatly affected her ability. Stamina was an essential strength for a Water-God artist, but thanks to her year away from anything physically taxing, her stamina was not at its optimal level. There was one thing that irked her the most though, more than her lowered stamina. As after that fight with… Him… she wasn't able to access the one thing that defined her as a Sea-Master in Water-God style. Flow.
Nami, the Sea-Master! Nami the Sylph-Master! She chuckled, remembering how people used to celebrate her name. What a joke.
"I guess what they say about women and showers is true, you're really taking your time in there." Mitchell teased from the other side of the shower curtain, snapping Nami out of her growingly depressing thoughts.
"You know, you could leave me behind. I want to be alone." Nami answered, not hiding the fact that she was annoyed.
"And leave my beautiful master behind? I could never." He overly dramatized his shock.
"I'm starting to see why you don't have any friends." Mitchell groaned in pain, her comment feeling like a dagger through the chest, or maybe that was the palm she landed earlier.
"I can tell something is wrong, are you gonna tell me, or is this another thing you don't want to talk about?" Mitchell pried, hoping to dissect the reason behind her sour mood.
"I…" Nami paused. Considering how much of the truth to tell and if he needed to know any of it. Finally coming to a decision she sighed. "My loss at the Kami cup, it's been on my mind ever since I joined this club, and I know that doesn't justify my pissy attitude, but anything that reminds me of that just ticks me off." Nami said, almost in one breath. She hated admitting it and part of her hoped he didn't hear any of it, but part of her was satisfied with getting it off her chest.
"A loss like that can haunt us for a while, I understand that more than anyone else…" Nami's ears perked up, shocked with how vulnerable he sounded. "But you don't grow from lingering on a loss, you grow from learning from it and looking forward." He finished. A silence fell between them, and it stretched longer with the white noise of the shower in the background. Nami peaked out of the shower with a face he never thought he'd see from her. Her eyes couldn't even meet his, as if all her confidence had leaked out of her. She looked docile, like a child too shy to speak.
"Tha… Thanks… I needed that." Nami could feel her cheeks light up out of embarrassment. Traces of her old self had slipped out and she needed to gather herself.
"I shall allow you to stay my dear pupil, but only because you called me beautiful." She teased, matching his overly dramatized tone. She could feel more of her embarrassment bubbling up, knowing that she just made herself look like a fool.
Mitchell went on his knees and bowed. "Thank you so much sensei!" Nami chuckled at this before rolling her eyes, relief washing over her as Mitchell matched her theatrics.
"Just throw me a towel bro, I think I'm done." She got back in the shower and turned the water off.
That's enough thinking for today. She thought to herself with a soft smile spreading on her lips. He was annoying, yes, but part of her was grateful that he was there.
"Will thy grace me with thy luscious buttocks?" Mitchell threw the towel over the curtain as he awaited her response.
"And poison thine eyes with my 8-inch-long schlong? I'd rather not." Mitchell broke down in laughter, raising his hands in defeat. He hadn't known that the rumors circulating the showers had reached her. Then again, it wasn't as if the guys were all too quiet with their theory crafting.
"Alright you got me, that's a good one." The shower curtain opened as he caught his breath. Nami, having wrapped her whole body with the towel, walked out as if unbothered by the fact that he was still there, and Mitchell didn't hesitate to give her a full scan.
Luckily for him, the rumors were just that, as she didn't have an 8-inch anaconda hiding there. Though her figure was most definitely female he could see why other people would mistake her as male. She was almost completely flat by the chest area, heck he could think of a few guys with a bigger chest than hers. The fact that her hair was just as short as any other guys didn't help, though having short hair was optimal for the line of work she chose. In retrospect, her body was perfectly sculpted for the Water-God style. From the roundness of her hips to the thickness of her thighs and the softness of her body, despite being toned for combat. She was a marvel to look at.
"I hope you're done ogling at me, I gotta change." Nami slammed the door to her stall on his face, snapping him out of his daze. He blinked twice, realizing he had been caught staring. Slamming his hand on his face, he walked over to his bags.
Damnit Mitchell, now you look like a perv. He thought to himself, sliding his hand off his face
"Question." He started.
"No, it is not a BBL." She answered, as she had encountered similar scenarios in her past.
"I wasn't gonna… That's not what I wanted to ask." Mitchell felt a slight blush come up on him as he struggled to put his thoughts together.
"I was going to ask why you dress up like a boy most of the time. Is it a fashion choice, or do you play for the other team?" There was a slight pause before she spoke up.
"It's neither." A silence came between them again.
"Then what is it?" Mitchell asked, breaking that silence.
"Y'know, back at home, the league to decide the 100 to fight in the Kami Cup barred women from participating, so I had to get creative with my attire." Nami started. "I got so used to dressing and pretending to be a boy that it became natural. Funny enough my attire gave me the nickname BlackBunny." A Message dinged in Mitchell's phone. He picked it up to see a photo of an all-black wearing fighter, wearing a mask with two bunny-like ears going down her back. Though he knew it was Nami under there he could barely tell that she was a she. The picture was taken 2 years back, but she looked considerably younger than she was then. Looking 13 instead of 16.
"I don't think the league here will bar you because of your gender, we've had female champions before." Mitchell said.
"What about Royal Knights?" Mitchell looked at her stall door in shock at first but then chuckled.
"Of course you'd be aiming for that." He sighed.
"It's all I ever wanted, but…" she paused.
"Change of subject, what are you aiming for. Since you're in the Combat Club, I'd guess you're aiming for Royal Knight too, right?" Mitchell raised a brow at her sudden change, but after what happened in the dojo, he knew better than to pry.
"I will become the Royal Knight, it's not much of a dream, but more of a prediction." He declared pridefully.
"Poor Mitch," Nami started as she stepped out in her usual school attire, minus the blazer. "There can only be one Royal Knight, so don't make me squash your dreams in front of you." Nami had a playfully menacing smirk on her as she walked to him.
"Silver is only for second place, BlackSilver." Nami dropped her head as a chuckle came to her.
"God, I hate you." She walked towards the exit. "Come on, Moe has been waiting long enough." She said, twirling the dojo keys on her finger. The two walked out continuing their jokes together.