Sleeves Wet with Dew [Fuuen, Erika]

The moment Erika stepped toward him, her grip changing, Fuuen knew that the Koushuu Kajikazawa would never be able to catch her off guard. It was, after all, too all-encompassing a defense, one that covered all possible angles but not one which could answer a single defense. Instead, as she stepped forward, he stepped directly toward her, closing even more space when that would typically be considered ideal for a blade of Yuudachi's length. However, it would still be enough to change their spacing by a matter of inches, shifting the balance of their distance and allowing him to continue drawing the Yuudachi. Rather than swinging it in its round arc, however, he performed the Ninth View, Bishuu Fujimigahara. Drawing the blade out from his back, it immediately arced outward using the long notch cut into its sheathe, a vertical slash that could have parted even a river in one motion.

This was a gamble, yes, but in a match such as this, treated as a true bout even if it was not one, he knew that she would have no recourse but to step away from him, much as he had none but to create this situation. He could not match her speed or her footwork, but if she intended to keep him trapped here, his blade would only cut into her in turn.

Very exceptional work. He had not heard wrong when it had been said she was one of the masters of swordplay here in Soul Society. He doubted that simply relying on the Thirty Six views would be near enough to even come close to matching her, but that was just as well. He did not intend to idle about and merely utilize what he already knew.

Fuuen was impressed at how quickly she'd reacted, even knowing how good she was said to be. His familiarity with his own blade was perhaps his greatest advantage in this bout, his instinctive grasp of every factor of the blade, how it bet, how it moved. He would have to take the fullest advantage of that if he intended to even match her, much less to best her.

As her foot moved to trap his blade against the ground, he knew that it would be too long an effort to move it away, and perhaps more importantly, that it would be nearly impossible to move it in any direction that she could not still simply step onto it. So, instead, he twisted the blade, the edge no longer pointed down, but now directly upward toward the woman who had moved to step onto it, and he followed up that gesture by actively moving the blade to meet her step, his body moving only the barest necessary degree to avoid the blade that would otherwise pierce into his neck.

Would such a strike truly injure her? Fuuen doubted that, even if she were not sufficiently skilled to adjust her step to avoid it and prevent either of their blows from landing. Even if in skill they were somewhat comparable, the question of outright strength was another one entirely. He doubted he could cut through her even once if it was a genuine duel, but it did not change that this was the most correct course of action for his approach. She had pushed his style to adapt, to shift, and that worked well for him.

He noted that he had nearly entered a different stance simply by merit of how the battle had gone. He did not mind that, did not mind potentially utilizing more than simply his Thirty Six Views. If anything, he welcomed the thought. But he did not dare think too far ahead. A master did not plan every step of a fight, for that was to apply only one's own understanding to an opponent. That was inviting overconfidence, nothing more.

The reality of the situation was, of course, that Erika was stronger than Fuuen, and he knew that it would not be feasible to simply push the Yuudachi upward when her blade met his. Besides, his was not a sword that was intended for clashes, and he once more rotated the weapon such that the flat of the blade was against Erika's wakizashi rather than the edge. That was enough that he could pull it away, taking a single step backward that he knew provided an opening for her to grab her own weapon.

That was, however, perfectly fine with Fuuen, for his blade was already now in the perfect position to assume a stance wholly different from his typical one. The Eighth of the Ukiyo Hakkei, the Returning Consort. His blade was pointed low, toward the ground, and his gaze was nearly empty. His stance was almost shy, reserved, and he looked squarely on the defensive. However, his actual body was still tensed as ever, and his attention was wholly on the opponent. But his now-lowered face, and his empty gaze, obscured what it might have been that he was watching most closely.

The truth, of course, was that he was watching Erika in her entirety. Watching every facet of her stance, her style, waiting for any opening in her next approach. The Returning Consort was a defensive style, built on careful study, on an almost cruel willingness to let the opponent throw themselves into danger. He supposed that sort of cruelty had defined the fallen swordsman from whom he had inherited it, but that was only more reason for him to refine it into something elegant in its own right.

Both the mastery of his opponent and her usage of two swords meant that the Returning Consort's typical defenses were not quite as immediate as they otherwise might have been. Most foes were not nearly so fast as to move through his reach unimpeded, and even Erika was still, in theory, able to be caught by the blade. However, she had put him into the very same position that he himself had utilized only moments before, demanding that one either back away or accept mutually grievous injury.

So, indeed, he stepped back, knowing fully that it would only be to his benefit for now, using his sword only to strike against the wakizashi that would have stopped him. His blade was long enough that he could keep it at a distance while his still stepped back, and while he knew that there was no chance he could outright disarm her simply with this, he could at least keep that blade busy until he'd gained a bit more acceptable footing.

So he took two steps back, eyes still low, and Erika's short stature made it all the easier for the Returning Consort style to function. However, he knew that it would not be easy for him to stay on the defensive forever, but he was not going to simply shift into a new stance for no reason. Better to wait for the right opportunity.

There it was, the faintest hole in her approach, the simple disconnect between the two blades in her hands. It was true that in some cases, that would have been a tremendous benefit, and even Fuuen knew that, had he not already been prepared to take in the whole of her style at once, he would not have noted such a thing. As she struck out, he noted that such an attack, a stab toward his upper body, was something he could remember vividly.

And, much like it had been ready for the tsuki thrust, the Returning Consort was wholly prepared for such a forward assault. He took another step backward, this time accompanied by one to his right, moving only closer to the wakizashi to throw off the arc of any swing it might have taken. It could certainly intercept his sword now, but as he stepped, his blade moved upward as well, the edge cutting toward the sky and, by extension, toward Erika.

His step had brought him far closer to the wakizashi, and improved his own leverage in the event of an impact now. Even if she chose to block the strike, he would have been curious to see if her sword could prevent a full strike.