Of overwhelming feelings

Reisen parried and then riposted in the same fluid movement, hitting her adversary and gaining another point. They were now 5 to 4 in Reisen’s favour and it felt like they had been at it for hours already, even though fencing was very rapid as a sport.

They returned to their positions, and at the referee’s “En garde! Prêts? Allez!” the other girl made a feint toward the chest, successfully tricking Reisen into parrying with a tierce from instinct and subsequently tying the score 5 to 5. There were no real excuses, Reisen should’ve known better since it wasn’t the first time that her opponent used a variation of the same technique, but the latter’s perfect bland of force and precision had the effect of throwing Reisen off, and she still didn’t quite understand when her adversary was actually attacking or simply feinting: she had managed to deflect a few false lunges after parrying just because of her reflexes, but all the hits she had taken had landed heavily and hurt more than they should’ve, as if they had pierced her skin, even though logically she knew that they hadn’t.

In all this, the referee gave the three-command start again, and Reisen decided that was a good moment to use one of her favourite moves: she squatted down just after the “Allez!” and extended her arm, taking advantage of her short stature and rapidity in order to hit her opponent’s foot and gain a point. It was something she could do only twice or thrice during a tournament, since it left her quasi completely open and worked solely if her adversary wasn’t expecting it, but it was worth it during a final, especially if it could give her a much needed break like the one they were granted when she the score became 6 to 5 in her favour.

During the last one she was way too surprised and out-of-breath, but that time she was ready and made a beeline for her friends – since in that tournament there were no stakes, at the very least on paper, there was no need to talk strategy with her instructor anyway –. “Yukiya” she said hastily without even taking off her mask, knowing from experience that a minute of pause passed very quickly. “Is she using some form of magic?” Magic was generally forbidden during sport competitions, unless of course it was part of the rules or of a certain discipline, and magic sensors were always on during matches, but they could still fail if the magic wavelength stayed under a certain frequency: she knew that, she had designed and assembled a magic sensor once, in class; however, the kid was the most perceptive and magically inclined person she’d ever met.

They didn’t let her down: while Nagai seemed vaguely worried, having probably noticed she wasn’t exactly in perfect condition, Yukiya had been frowning since before she asked her question, their gaze directed at the other girl. “She… I don’t think she’s actively using it, but there’s something… something strange, about this.” They turned to her, confused. “What’s happening, Reisen?”

She shrugged, shaking her head. “I don’t know, but that gal is awfully determined to eliminate me.”

The kid’s eyes widened. “Eliminate?”

“Well, that was the word she used when I met her in the changing room.”

“Reisen, what-” Nagai started, but the seconds were ticking down, and there was no time to recount the events.

“Anyway, keep an eye on her for me, will you?”

“Of course, but… wouldn’t it be better to… withdraw, maybe?” Yukiya asked, while Nagai nodded in agreement. “Since this could get dangerous.”

Now, it wasn’t as though they weren’t right, per se: that was a friendly tournament, after all. However, conceding defeat like this wasn’t something she just did. “Sure, but not if I win before anything can actually happen.”

“Reisen, wait a second-”

“Don’t have that.” She grinned, hoping it was visible even though she wore a mask. “Cheer on me.”

After that, she had to return on the piste. The bout resumed, and in mere instants she and her opponent were locked in battle once again. The latter had disengaging techniques, compound attacks and circle parries down to a science, without talking about the sheer force she put in all of her thrusts, but Reisen had on her side rapidity and very good reflexes, so the score was tied pretty much all the time.

That was one of Reisen’s hardest bouts to date, but she wasn’t one to step down from a challenge. When they were both at 13 points she made a lunge toward the other’s shoulder that got predictably parried, but then she changed the line of offence at the last second and hit the thigh in a continuation of attack before her adversary could make a riposte, bringing Reisen one point closer to the end of the match in her favour. Her opponent, however, cornered her with yet another series of feints, managing to eliminate the disadvantage with a compound attack.

Reisen took a deep, deep breath, forcing herself not to lose focus. The smallest error, the slightest distraction could’ve brought her to defeat, especially with an adversary of that calibre, but she could still do it: she hadn’t been overwhelmed so far, after all, and could’ve won with just another point. The same could be said for the other girl, obviously, but it wasn’t important. Think about victory, not about what-ifs. She dropped into the guard stance, hopefully for the last time, her mind clear from unnecessary worries; at the referee’s “Allez!” she saw her opponent’s lunge from the way she moved and widened the distance between them, going for a counter attack at the other’s forearm, but the latter understood her intentions and changed the line of offence: the lights of the scoreboard glowed and beeped at the same time, bringing them both to 15 points, which meant that they had to return to 14 and redo the last action so that only one could obtain victory.

It wasn’t an ideal situation – far from it, actually, since Reisen’s limbs were aching all over from the heavy hits she’d taken –, but she would’ve held on for as long as it was needed. Even more than before, she focused only on that moment in time, on her feet on that piste, on Corinne in her hand, on the movements of her adversary; nothing else mattered, not the world outside, not the cheers from the public, so everything around them blurred and got muted, becoming little more than background colours and muffled noises.

The other girl, bright and shifty like a flame, lunged toward Reisen’s front knee, but she managed to evade the attack by stepping back and parrying with a prime; she was ready to riposte, but her opponent renewed her offence before that could happen, this time going for Reisen’s neck: she quickly parried with a tierce, but suddenly the threat that in the changing room had seemed vague now sounded like a promise.

The other continued to attack – always aiming at joints or vital points –, Reisen didn’t stop defending, each second stretched ad infinitum, and then their épées locked together in a tense stalemate.

Reisen thought she saw the girl smile coldly behind the mask, but she couldn't be sure. That wasn’t the time to focus on that type of details, anyway.

“Say your prayers, if you believe in something” said her adversary in a low voice, only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

Reisen’s eyes widened a fraction, but she didn’t manage to react otherwise or reply, for the other resumed her relentless attack.

They exchanged a few more blows, the lines of their épées blurring from the rapidity of their movements, and in the end, after the last thrusts and parries, the scoreboard beeped again with some sort of finality.

Reisen, still in a lunging position, glanced at it and saw that this time she was the only one who had touched. She had won.

Instantly, the world around her returned with a wash of colours and sounds. She barely managed to smile in satisfaction and begin to relax, however, that the other girl attacked her again without being prompted, more or less ignoring every single rule of fencing. Reisen moved away just in time to avoid a thrust directed to her neck, noticing from the corner of her eye that her friends had hurriedly stood up from the benches, while the rest of the public was in an uproar.

“Reisen, her sword! Don’t get hit!” Yukiya yelled over the noise.

That was the plan anyway, even without their input necessarily, but… well, maybe she was more tired than expected, maybe she had already relaxed too much; the fact was that, when the other brought her épée down, she just made a small movement sideways, which led to her shoulder being sliced and her chest following suit: thankfully she was well well protected, between the jacket, the sous-plastron, the tee-shirt and the chest protector, and had managed to get a bit out of the way, but while her white uniform got tinged with the red of blood, the only thing she could think about was that épées weren’t supposed to cut in any manner.

But, of course, that was a stupid thought, because they lived in a world where people could control the five elements and do magic, which included changing the heaviness and sharpness of a sword. Hell, she had done that too just a few days prior.

Following that event, magic sensors started blaring and the gymnasium became a mess of noises and movements, but all the people who tried to get closer and help got driven away by a ring of fire that the other girl generated with a simple flick of her hand. The fire alarm system came to life too, creating with the rest of those chaotic sounds a cacophonous orchestra, but the world around them seemed to have forcefully been cut out from what was happening on the piste.

Reisen gripped her épée and stabilised her stance, ignoring the heat and the pain and each and every other unnecessary thought in favour of focusing on yet another battle. It was fine. She had had worse. And, this time, both Yukiya and Nagai were there: she had faith that they would’ve been able to do something.

However, even though she did her best to dodge – thrusts and flaming attacks alike –, she was still at a disadvantage, and, as soon as she tried to actually parry a lunge, Corinne was snapped in two.

It happened fast, in a matter of instants, but in Reisen’s perception time slowed down after that, and the cracking sound of the metal breaking reverberated like the slap of thunder in her ears. She didn’t even feel the new cut in her upper arm, because her entire world had shrunk down to that single moment. Because that was her primary weapon, her beloved épée. That was Corinne, whose guard was scraped and bruised but not ruined, that like the rush had bent but never broken.

All least until now, and, suddenly, Reisen felt with the force of an avalanche all the emotions she hadn’t wanted to think about before. She felt irritation and tiredness for all of those magical problems, worry for what that meant for her and her loved ones, anger for her friendly tournament being ruined and, most of all, the heartbreaking sadness of losing one of her most precious possessions.

Her eyes became glassy with tears, her breath was short, but her mind was focused. “You snapped my épée…”

“What was that?” commented the other, preparing for another attack.

To hell with calmness and patience. “You broke Corinne!”

The girl of red lunged, but Reisen made a sharp, horizontal wave with her hand and changed the course of the offence, by taking control of the metal present in her opponent’s sword in a not-really-conscious display of magic, proceeding to hit the other’s chest with the half of the weapon she still wielded.

The girl had lost her balance, so she was sent careening on the piste from the pure force of impact. She stood back up as soon as she could, but in that moment the ring of fire surrounding them got finally extinguished by a torrent of water controlled by Nagai. The other épéeist generated and manipulated new flames so that they went in their direction, but Yukiya created an earth wall that more or less destroyed the floor in order to protect them – thankfully, some part of Reisen noticed, most of the civilians seemed to have evacuated –.

“Get away from Reisen!” the kid shouted, their arms extended in front of them and their eyes blazing, sounding angrier than ever.

The girl actually stopped, as if contemplative, but when she took off her mask Reisen saw that she was looking directly and solely at her. “You are… more of a threat than I first thought, Hagane Reisen, but I can respect your strength.” What did that even mean? “I’m Oshibi, by the way. Remember it for the next time we’ll meet.”

At those words, Yukiya and Nagai attacked her with a combined attack of earth spikes and water torrents, but the girl- Oshibi tilted her head to the side, and the very fabric of reality distorted and blurred around her, until she disappeared in a last spark of flames.

Reisen’s friends dispelled their respective and now useless incantations and the kid was quick to check worriedly on her, but she had no energies anymore.

She clenched the grip of her broken Corinne, while the rest of her body was shaken by tremors, and let herself cry.