Seaside Fight Night: Fuuen vs. Kokuto

Mm, that wasn't ideal in the slightest. Fuuen had certainly miscalculated, but it had at least given him a good deal of information about his opponent. Having been struck and sent across the arena was hardly a pleasant experience, but Fuuen wouldn't be cut down just yet. Standing with both a wince and a smile, he returned to his usual stance, his hair disheveled and blood trailing down from a scrape on his face.

"Well, I see that strength is certainly off the table. Shall we give the people a proper show, then? I've never much been one for drawing out a battle."

And, besides, even one hit like that was quite bad for someone like Fuuen. He stepped forward again, but didn't attack just yet. He'd already begun preparing, instead, for what he still considered his "ultimate" technique. Breathing even, stance at the ready. He did not wish to use it before his opponent had a chance to reply, of course. So for now, he simply watched, waited, stayed on the defensive.

Kokuto was certainly enjoying himself. He usually wasn't one to be a showman, just get right to business, but, with a tournament like this, it felt nice to ease up. As he watched Fuuen get up, disheveled and bloody, Kokuto gave him an approving nod as he spoke. He didn't really have any big, ultimate, climactic or cinematic ability, but, hell, he could just make one up here and now.

"Hell yeah. Let's end this with a bang."

Kokuto idly spun his sword at his side, still attached to the chain. More sun-like flames drifted from the blade as his shifted his weight to the front of his foot, ready to kick off and move forward at any moment. Taking in a deep breath, he took his sword in both hands, holding it at his side, then kicked off the ground. A flash of white fire surged to life behind him and pushed him forward, a streak of red and orange flowing from his sword as he moved.

His foot touched the ground for a moment, only to push off the arena and launch himself into the air. His body quickly began to come back down, arching his body to spin and slash in a circular motion. In that instant, flames erupted from the motion all around, creating a powerful blast of flames and heat. While the flames would disperse upon reaching the barrier around the arena, the heated gale would gloss over the crowd harmlessly.

It was something done entirely on the fly, showcasing the lack of discipline in his form and technique, but, the inspiration created by his opponent had enticed Kokuto to match his showmanship and create a spectacle for those around them.

This was the deciding blow of the match. Whether he won or lost was decided in this very moment, certainly, and it took the very last of Fuuen's strength to even weather the flames of Kokuto's technique. Even so, his skin was scorched, and his body was nearly in shambles. A sensible man would have stopped now, would certainly have conceded defeat knowing the strain he was about to put on himself. But an artist such as Fuuen was not what one could ever call sensible.

Fugaku Ikkei: Kanagawa Oki Nami-ura.

Fuuen stepped toward his opponent, a trail of blood left in his wake from his wounds. He swung the Yuudachi toward Kokuto with flawless form, the blade shining in the sunlight--and, at that very same moment, uncountable blades manifested themselves. A sword from every possible direction, making every possible cut. The infinite possibilities in approach were now inconsequential for Fuuen, for this first and greatest of his techniques allowed him to make every possible strike in a single moment.

But whether or not even those strikes would be enough was not something he could discern. He was simply content with having made such a grand show.

He figured that this would be what finished the fight -- but, to his surprise, Fuuen still stood, pushing himself forward. Adjusting himself to be able to land on his feet, he readied himself to block the strike. But, then he saw the blades manifesting in the corners of his vision. He drew his sword back to cover his center, but he felt impact from all sides. The sound of glass cracking filled his ears as he felt it slam again and again against his armor, with Kokuto bringing his arms up to defend his face.

One by one, they began to crack and break through, impaling him from every direction. He grit his teeth -- he only had one way to try and best this. Steam began to rise from his body and the temperature of the arena began to skyrocket. He didn't care about what the consequences were for this -- he wanted to win, and if it meant that he would be able to come away from this victorious, then so be it.

White flames began to emanate from his body as Kokuto lowered his arms, pushing himself forward to try and grapple onto Fuuen's clothes. Even if he didn't connect, he didn't care. In an instant, a column of white erupted outward and upward, unleashing a torrent of white flames hundreds of feet beyond him as the column reached up to crash against the barrier above, spilling and falling back to the arena floor.

A sea of white heat, burning even brighter and hotter than anything he had used before, capable of searing through and melting through metals as if they were but paper to water.

Sloppy, but nothing short of a spectacle made in response to his opponent, wanting to return the showmanship in kind, as he had tried to do throughout their entire battle -- all to match his opponent.

It was, at this stage, flatly impossible for Fuuen to escape this bout conscious, or even in particularly good shape. He had to imagine that he would only even survive something this intense simply on account of the manner in which this arena had been set up. But acceptance of that fact did not dissuade Fuuen from making one final motion of his blade. There was no strength left in it, a swing so exhausted that it could barely have cut through an apple. But it was still made effortlessly, no differently from the stroke of a brush, and his sword moved in an upward arc toward his foe as dew once more seemed to coalesce on the blade's edge.

Zoku Fugaku Ikkei: Kaijou no Fuji.

As the blade moved, the energy that had accumulated on the sword shot out, cleaving a path at least through the most immediate heat that shot out, a wave cutting its way forward with all the strength of those infinite attacks and, ideally, directly into his opponent. But the moment the blade had swung, Fuuen simply smiled to himself, and collapsed onto the floor unconscious.

In the blinding white fire that roared around him, Kokuto didn't see Fuuen's movements. He was hardly focused on it -- but, the attack he made suddenly cleaved through the flames and collided with him. All of the endless attacks made before hit him like a train, sending him backwards as the collective strength caused the shimmering red energy field around him to shatter and make a rather decent cut vertically across his chest.

The sea of flames surged one last time, before dissipating as Kokuto stumbled backward. He started to tip over, but he quickly summoned his sword again, digging it deep into the ground and using it to hold himself upward. He felt dizzy, his whole body was on fire, turned a dark shade of red as a result of the sudden explosive use of the higher level of his flames. It wasn't nearly as bad as what he had to do after the Ichigo fight, but, it still took something out of it, at least.

The guy might not have been an overwhelming powerhouse, but he had the style and skill to make up for it, and, Kokuto respected that. Pulling himself somewhat upright as he slid down into a sitting position, keeping a hand on his sword. He might not have been passing out, but he certainly had a bit taken out of him. It was a good, fun fight. Kokuto only hoped that he'd made it enjoyable for his opponent as well -- though he sure couldn't ask him right now.