In the midst of the shadows cast by the trees, the forest critters squinted their eyes at the sparks caused by the continuous clash.
Ryuji had the upper hand, driving Ichiro back, but even then he still couldn't strike his shoulder no matter how hard he tried.
It was clear that Ichiro's attention was divided, as he often glanced behind his shoulder even as he blocked incoming attacks—but this didn't dull his senses one bit.
Even as blood poured forth, Ryuji only picked up speed, alternating between offense and defense so meticulously that it seemed unconscious.
His endless barrages left Ichiro standing fixed in one spot, with his only options being to block or evade.
Then, with a glare, he suddenly charged—his body freezing mid-motion. At that point, Ryuji no longer completely relied on his sight anymore, and as unwise as it was, he let pure intuition guide his actions—and this time was no different.
He leapt back, avoiding the situation altogether, but as his feet rested on the ground, his intuition sensed that something was amiss.
Then he turned to see Ichiro aiming to strike from behind. Instead of cowering like he had done before, he aimed straight for his shoulder—and he struck.
What he felt was far from the warm sensation of blood streaming from a fresh wound, but a firm and sharp resistance.
How could it be? It was unmistakably him—that is what he thought, unaware that his body had rejected his will and had relied on his sight yet again.
Looking again after a blink, he instead witnessed his claws rigged into the split bark of a dead tree instead of Ichiro.
He had no time for confusion, because from within the bark before him, he saw Ichiro emerging as if he was phasing through the tree entirely. He leapt back again.
As time went by, it became clear that whatever he saw was becoming more and more contradictory from what was truly there—but as opposed to his will, he couldn't avert his eyes from the deception.
With this realization came a growing sense of frustration at the loss of the advantage he had claimed, but its existence kept him grounded. All that he had to do was play his cards right and he would win—that is what he believed.
His eyes met Ichiro's frame once more, but he stood hesitant, unwilling to fall for his farce yet again.
"So it seems this is what you were hiding all along, isn't it?" He said.
"What are you talking about i haven't been hiding anything at all," Ichiro said," or has your fear of loss led you to making baseless assumptions."
"You can't fool me," he said," I'm one to your tricks. Your hidden ability is to change the perception of an object to something else in the your victims mind."
"That is how you pulled that stunt with the rock and how you fooled me into striking a dead tree, it's all clear now!"
"I'm confused," Ichiro said," does this sudden realization of yours come with a definitive weakness to my ability that you'll use against me or are you just rambling under the stress of your situation."
"I have to say, this ability of yours is pretty neat," he said," I can tell that you were a real threat back in your younger days."
"Why do you say that as if I'm a worn out tool?"
"I say it because you are or maybe the tool wasn't very useful to begin with otherwise they would never let an asset like it slip from their hands," Ryuji shot.
"People are much more than tools," Ichiro shot back," the fact that you assume that ownership can be held over others is revolting."
"It might be revolting but it's true," he said as he spread out his arms wide," look at me aren't I slave this this mark on my throat and look at you aren't you a slave to your compassion."
"It is a shame but it is the truth," he continued," and i intend to use this truth to my advantage."
"What are you scheming?" Ichiro asked his grip tightening.
"Isn't it clear," he replied," the only way to enforce control is to seize it by the leash."
With that statement he immediately turned and dashed away into the canopy in the direction of the cliff.
"You spineless bastard," Ichiro mumbled as he hurriedly gave chase.
As he ran, septa-circles formed at his feet, and with a phrase muttered beneath his breath, he shot forth toward him, his speed picking up with each step.
Soon Ryuji was forced to halt his dash in order to block a strike from him.
"Look how fast the dog came running," he said but Ichiro remained silent, his expression one of rising fury.
Ryuji flipped back and, using the bark of a tree, propelled himself at him—only barely missing the strike he aimed at his shoulder.
Then, with a swift turn, he launched himself back at him, striking his right shoulder as he turned.
A flicker caught Ichiro's attention. He sensed the faint presence of the child grow, as if he was coming closer—but then it faded ever so slightly.
Ichiro couldn't help but glance back at this alarming change, and with that moment of distraction, Ryuji came closer to hitting his mark again. It was clear he was becoming more precise, and Ichiro's divided attention only served to hinder him. Ryuji was once again gaining the upper hand.
Ryuji faltered for a moment, catching his breath, before moving to strike again—but his claws phased right through Ichiro's shoulder.
Ichiro appeared behind him, grazing the side of his chest, but it was not a complete disadvantage for Ryuji.
In that same instant, as Ichiro pulled back expecting him to stall, Ryuji pushed through the pain and struck his right shoulder again.
Ichiro grimaced slightly at the pain, but pushed off, creating distance between them.
His gaze drifted again as he frantically tried to sense the child's presence, but he was unsuccessful. This could only mean that either the clash of their fight had driven the child away—or something worse had happened.
"And so the control persists," Ryuji said catching his attention," even now with to separate targets on your body your compassion still draws your gaze elsewhere."
"How can you deny the control it has over you when it is so clearly put?"
"Shut up," Ichiro said calm," my priorities are always within control. What I choose to prioritise is my choice."
"You say that but you can't cast away the fear that comes with imminent death," Ryuji said," no one can, what makes you think you're so special."
Ichiro smirked and said," I cast away that fear long away when I made my promise."
The two stood still, their gazes locked, as a new wave of silence settled between them. Then, without a word, they both charged, their intent clear in their expressions.
Ryuji rushed forward with both claws ready, abandoning any attempt at defense.
Ichiro swung his sword toward his throat. As the two neared collision—there it was again.
That flaring flicker.
Ichiro's grip faltered for a moment—but he reaffirmed his intent.
As his sword swept toward his throat, that was when it hit.
His blade stopped mid-air, inches away, a blood-red field of energy halting the strike.
That—paired with another flicker—finally made him stall.
And Ryuji struck, drawing blood.