He took slow, laboured breaths as he watched Ichiro step toward him. He seemed completely unbothered—almost as if he wasn't even fighting at all.
"Don't think you've won just because you fooled me a few times," he said, straightening himself.
Ichiro stopped, then dropped his guard completely as he faced him.
Ryuji's expression twisted. "What do you think you can achieve by doing that? Like I said, it's only a matter of time until I overcome this ability of yours. Count on it."
"You're already under the influence of my Fever Dream," Ichiro said as he turned slightly to his right. "The only escape left for you is death."
He took a step to the right, then another, before stopping mid-step. Ryuji remained on guard, anticipating something—anything—but a moment later, Ichiro appeared a few steps ahead of where he had stopped.
What stood out was that the image of the stationary Ichiro remained, even as he stood ahead.
He stopped again, then appeared further ahead. Again and again, each time leaving behind a stationary image, until he had completely circled around him.
Everywhere Ryuji looked, a version of Ichiro stood still. Then one of them moved—walking, stopping—and Ichiro appeared ahead of it once more.
It became impossible to tell which one was real. Any of them could move. Any of them could strike. Or worse—the real one could be hiding among the fakes.
With that realization came a flood of paranoia. Ryuji tried to track the most recent image, but for some reason, he couldn't tell which one it was. The older images slowly faded, only to be replaced by new ones almost instantly.
There were no inconsistencies. No distortions. No flaws. Every single one was perfect.
Even his other senses failed him. Smell, instinct—everything registered them as the same person.
That shouldn't have been possible.
How could one person exist in multiple places at once?
It wasn't possible.
The only explanation was that his perception itself was being completely altered.
But even understanding that changed nothing. It gave him no way to fight back—no way to win.
All he could do was remain fixed in place, anticipating an attack from every direction at once as the paranoia continued to build, threatening to explode. And when it did, it erupted in a flurry of madness.
He began randomly shooting spikes at all the images, regardless of their recency. Though he didn't find Ichiro, he had effectively reduced the number of positions from which he could be attacked.
With only a single image remaining, he fired, then took a deep breath. He now started slowly looking in every direction, anticipating the inevitable attack—but nothing could prepare him for what came next.
A slash on his right thigh came seemingly out of nowhere. His face twisted in pain before he turned behind and saw Ichiro with his sword raised. He struck, but his claws phased through him as the image slowly disappeared.
"Back here," his voice called out—and sure enough, there he was behind him again.
Ryuji attacked, but this time Ichiro jumped back, avoiding it, and immediately countered.
He delivered a shallow cut across his chest but was kicked back in the gut.
Fuming, Ryuji charged his claw attacks—fast and precise—but Ichiro dodged or countered each one.
Then Ichiro jumped to his side, but instead of pursuing him, Ryuji charged forward as he had been before, almost as if he couldn't tell that Ichiro was no longer in front of him.
By the time he came back to his senses, all he could do was guard his chest against Ichiro's slash, but even then, he was still tossed back.
Taking that opportunity to catch his breath, Ryuji said, "I get it now."
"Not only do you create afterimages, but you can also manipulate my memory," he continued, "but not my long-term memory—because if that were the case, then you could've wiped away your existence from my mind and just killed me."
"Instead, you erase short-term memories and create afterimages in my head to fool me into thinking that I'm attacking you, but in truth I'm just attacking thin air."
Ichiro said nothing and instead returned to his guard.
"From your reaction, I can tell that I'm right," Ryuji said as he lifted his arms and entered a new stance, "and if I'm right, then you have one more ace up your sleeve that you haven't used yet—and you're saving it for when you try to finish me off."
"Surprises aren't good if you take all the suspense away," Ichiro said, his expression troubled. "You might have figured out some of the effects of my Fever Dream, but you're far from winning."
"Don't be so sure of yourself," he replied. "Information is the first step to victory, and you don't seem to believe that completely—because if you did, you wouldn't have ruled out the fact that I might have something up my sleeve as well."
"If you're so quick to point it out, then why not show it to me?"
"Oh, I will," he said with a smirk. "Just don't get mad because you asked for it."
Both of them lunged at each other simultaneously, each intending to strike—but as they closed the distance at an insane speed, Ichiro suddenly came to a stop mid-sprint.
"Another afterimage," Ryuji thought as he came to a stop. "Then that means—"
He turned just in time to counter the real Ichiro's attack before striking back himself.
Ichiro leaned to dodge his claw strikes before moving in for an upward slash.
Then he stopped.
Ryuji turned again to intercept the attack just like before—but this time, he felt the slash land on his back.
As he tried to turn, he received a powerful kick to his side, sending him back again.
This time, though, he didn't stop. He lunged back at him and attacked.
Ichiro defended against most of his strikes, only sustaining a minor tear on the upper sleeve of his left arm.
He raised his sword and aimed a downward slash—but stopped mid-swing.
Despite this, Ryuji still received another cut across his chest, this one diagonally opposing the first.
Ichiro sidestepped to his right, leaving an afterimage with every step, quickly surrounding him.
Ryuji clawed away most of them, but as he turned, he found the last one standing without a sword in his hand. Seeing this, confusion took root, and for just a moment, he let his guard down.
Then the stationary image moved to strike him—even without a sword in its hand.
Ryuji guarded his chest but felt pain erupt from his gut.
When he looked down, he was horrified to see a blade in Ichiro's hand, tearing through his abdomen.
Despite the pain, Ryuji firmly grabbed Ichiro's sword arm and aimed his claws at his injured left shoulder.
His attack hit.
Following that, he jumped back and quickly delivered a powerful kick to Ichiro's gut, throwing him back.
He took a breath and said, "Not so good now that you've tasted it, huh?"
"One hit doesn't change anything," Ichiro replied, his left hand gripping his shoulder awkwardly, holding back the bleeding.
Ryuji snickered. "That's where you're wrong. Why don't you have a feel at your neck?"
Reluctantly, Ichiro reached to the left side of his neck—and that's when he felt it. His skin was swollen, blackened into a strange pattern.
"That is the Crown's Mark," Ryuji said. "It only appears after I strike someone twice on the same spot."
"So what?"
"Mhh, I'm glad you asked," Ryuji said sarcastically. "Since I now understand the nature of your ability, I think it's fair that I tell you mine."
"You see, that mark is no accessory to your neck," he continued. "It's a target."
"In my next attack on your shoulder, the mark will send a pulse through your body, disabling your peripheral nervous system completely."
Ichiro's expression shifted—more troubled now, much to Ryuji's delight.
"When that happens," he said, his palm resting against the side of his face as his claws idly brushed through his hair, "I'll tear your body apart as slowly as I please, and there'll be nothing anyone can do to stop me."
He lowered his hand.
"And just so you know—the effect is irreversible. So you'll have to be extra careful now… or else our show will end quicker than anticipated."
Pointing his claws at him with a grin, he shouted—
"Now come on… let's see who kills the other first!"