Matsushita Yusuke followed Soifon to the training wing and back into the sa reinforced room as before.
He glanced at the doorway, then spoke.
"I thought we agreed on tomorrow."
"I couldn't wait that long."
Given the amount of irritation she'd been sitting on, and given her personality, managing to hold it together until Yoruichi left was already a significant display of restraint. He could acknowledge that much.
He watched her kick off her tabi socks and peel off her outer uniform layer with considerable attitude.
Oh.
This was less coverage than last ti.
Close-fitted black base layer, sleeveless, designed for movent. And cut very generously at the sides, the opening ran from the armpit all the way down to the hip.
That was quite a design decision.
Matsushita Yusuke rubbed his nose and redirected his gaze.
"What exactly is the reasoning behind the outfit..."
"To get your attention. Obviously."
That was a statent that could just be said out loud?
Soifon adjusted the drawstring at her ankle with a serious expression, then bounced lightly in place, testing her range of motion.
"You should already know my background. My family has been in the assassination business for generations. For us, using every available ans to take down a target isn't just acceptable. It's the standard."
And compared to the cost of failing the mission —
"Being seen is nothing. A little exposure is no real loss."
Matsushita Yusuke pressed his lips together and rubbed the back of his head.
Soifon caught the gesture and frowned.
"What's that expression for?"
"I just... feel a little sorry for you. That's all."
"...Excuse ?!"
He shook his head quickly.
"Never mind. Forget I said anything."
What he'd been thinking, and chose not to say:
You should think about yourself. Not just about how to serve soone else.
And your body deserves a little more respect than this. You're not anyone's tool.
He could have gone on in that direction for ten minutes without repeating himself. He didn't.
Because saying any of it out loud would have made things worse. The pushback would have been imdiate and thorough, and nothing would have actually landed. This was a person who had grown up with a specific understanding of what she was for, reinforced at every level: family, institution, culture. The value system was deeply set.
That wasn't sothing you argued out of soone in a training room.
"I just thought that rather than talking, I'd rather use my fists to make the point first. Then we can have the longer conversation."
"Hmph. Doesn't make any sense."
She watched him settle into a stance and took a deep breath of her own, dropping into a half-crouch —
Then stood back up.
"Wait."
She raised her right hand in a stop gesture.
"...Changed your mind?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I want to ask sothing first. Are you planning to use your blade this ti?"
An abrupt question.
But not an incomprehensible one.
Matsushita Yusuke took a few seconds to follow the logic.
She's from the Onmitsukido. Shunpo and close-quarters combat are her specialties. Hakuda didn't work the first ti, so she's adjusting. Bring weapons into it and there's a different set of variables.
No person had infinite resources. If Kido was where Matsushita Yusuke's understanding ran deepest, then by definition the other three disciplines had to be thinner. Use your strength against their weakness. That was sound tactical thinking.
And that kind of small, calculated adjustnt was exactly the kind of thing Soifon would co up with.
He thought about it briefly, then gave her a straightforward answer.
"Sure. Let's use weapons."
More agreent than she'd clearly prepared for.
Soifon, who had visibly been rehearsing what she'd say if he declined, went quiet for a mont.
"One condition though. Can we agree on this upfront? No getting carried away when the blades co out. Point made and stop. No actual injuries."
"...I know that."
For soone who called themselves an assassin, losing control of a blade and accidentally killing the person you were sparring with was its own category of failure. The ability to land precisely where you intended and stop where you intended was basic to what she was. She didn't need to be told.
"When I have the upper hand, I'll spare you."
"Be nice if your ability matched that confidence."
"...!"
Both of them reached for their hilts at the sa mont.
Soifon dropped into a half-crouch, turned sideways as she drew, and took a reverse grip on her blade. Matsushita Yusuke stood loose, drew with his right hand, and held a standard forward grip pointing toward her.
Neither of them gave anything away in the stance. Basic forms, both of them. Starting positions that told you nothing useful about what was coming.
Feel it out first. Then shunpo to close it.
She had her plan. She stopped thinking about it.
She drew a sharp breath — and in the sa instant, launched.
BANG.
Not quite a sonic break. But close to it. Closer than it had any right to be for soone who hadn't been pushing that technique before.
The tatami mat where she'd been standing had caved inward, pressed flat by the force of her departure — as if a boulder had rolled across it.
She'd added sothing. Whatever footwork she'd been drilling since the first fight, she'd drilled it well.
A thin sound reached him. Quiet as a wire pulled taut, a hiss like a warning from sothing that bit. It threaded through the air and arrived at his ear without announcing itself.
He shifted his gaze left without moving anything else.
Soifon's form had slipped into the space beside him as if the air had simply opened around her. Two ters away. Then she was moving into that space.
Thrust.
The diamond-shaped tip of her blade drove straight toward his eye, carrying with it a pressure that arrived before the blade did — the specific feeling of a strike that had been practiced until it was just shape and speed and no hesitation at all.
Clean execution. High completion. The kind of technique that would end most conversations before they started.
But not quite enough to shut this one down.
Matsushita Yusuke looked sideways at her, unhurried, and let a few short syllables out between his lips.
"Kido #3: Coagulate."
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