[This kid doesn't have half as many openings as Yamamoto would have thought, so when the question causes him to lag behind, Yamamoto took advantage and pressed forward, sword slashing down diagonally.
If Squalo can get distracted by talking, then Yamamoto will keep doing it.]
Haha if you want to know, I'll tell you.
[Even if he doesn't Yamamoto's gaze narrows dangerously, murderous intent steeping the air even more so than the water. His smile is a brutal thing, sharp as a blade.]
Because following him means I have more people to whet my blade against. I have stronger opponents to test myself against. I don't stop improving, and he's the same.
[Each sentence is punctuated with an attack, the water roaring around them.]
[Squalo doesn't want to see the appeal, but he does. The blade rips through his shirt and the protective vest beneath, even through his skin - it might have been his bones, though, his ribs. The pain is enough to clear his head. Gets rid of the near-misstep. If he hadn't met Tsuna when he did, if he hadn't been through what he has with him and Gokudera, he might've gone down that path. It thrills him to seek power to that extent.
But the pain brings his pride back to the forefront as well, a roaring spiteful thing. Tsuna is too good to simply turn his back on. If he's going to stain his hands for anyone, it's someone who'll still look at him as a person despite it all, and he'll still have every chance to improve. After all, isn't he fighting the sword emperor, already?
Squalo grits his teeth, eyes and focus sharper for the pain.]
[Yamamoto's tone is light, teasing. This kid has been a pretty funny opponent so far, and he has to approve of the fact that he's even thought to wear a protective vest. Perhaps he had prepared far more than Yamamoto had given him credit for. He'll press forward, trying to use that wound to his advantage, aiming for that spot again.
Still the question is a good one, one that Yamamoto tries not dwell on too often because his losing isn't a possibility.]
My style is invincible and flawless. [That line is said with utter conviction, no hint of doubt in it. His expression is just as clear] But if I do lose, I'll really be the trash that Xanxus says I am.
[But what Yamamoto is saying is just solidifying his opinion on Xanxus. A powerful and ruthless and cruel man. Completely unforgiving. As much as those were qualities Squalo could appreciate, he wasn't the kind of person the Vongola needed for an heir.
In fact, he called bullshit on the whole ring battle thing from start to finish, even if that hardly had a place here and now. Now, he has to consider if this will be his first kill. Directly or by proxy - because he doesn't have to ask what happens to "trash" - or if he's going to die himself. It's not, he's finding, a question of morals.]
You're fucking delusional. No style is invincible or flawless!
[This time, when the blade descends toward him, he dodges it easily and with precision, countering by striking parallel to it, aiming for the arm.]
[His opponent's bluster makes him laugh, despite the circumstances, and even Squalo's retort against his style isn't enough to wipe the grin off of his face. That wasn't the first time he'd heard that, nor would it be the last.]
I'll show you.
[Though it was a losing argument with Yamamoto either way, because even if he did lose, it would be through his own failings and had nothing to do with the style. He shook off the momentary image of his father's stern face, swearing out in surprise when Squalo connected with his arm. It'd be little better than useless, and he was surprised that he'd gotten past his guard.
Ah, maybe he had been getting a little ahead of himself.]
Guess I can't play around with someone like you, can I?
[With his arm in that state, he would have to end this quickly. He slid into his ninth stance, deciding that this would be the deciding exchange.]
[He's got his teeth bared, in part because he doesn't know what's coming, in part because he's still struggling against the part of him that seems like a monster in human skin, the part that enjoys the feeling of flesh giving under his blade. Following Tsuna, there are a lot of kinds of crazy he'll get to be, but that isn't one. Can't be.
Instead he watches, backs up a ways as Yamamoto takes his stance. He doesn't know what's coming, he's never seen this stance even studying the style. There's no way of knowing if he'll survive it, no matter how ridiculous and out of place it looks. So he raises his blade and watches, waiting. The pain from his chest and the multitude of smaller cuts barely touches his mind. The cold of the water seeping into him with the continued bloodloss can't compare to the rush of adrenaline.
Now or never. If he can get past this technique, he can win it still. He has to.]
[He knows as soon as Squalo's blade bites into him that he's lost, with all of the implications that come along with it. He'll be useless to Xanxus now ( what did he murder his old man for if he can't kill this mouthy child ), and Yamamoto's always been a bit of a sore loser.
He'll comfort himself with knowing he's managed to take the kid's sword hand, but he doubts that will mean much in his Boss's eyes. He manages to keep his legs under him for a moment before he's coughing up blood, falling face first into the water. Defeat. How pathetic.]
[It's a matter of seconds before it's over. Just seconds. Yamamoto moves, and Squalo moves, both attempting techniques of their own. Ultimately, Squalo is too fast, landing cut after cut on the assassin while still moving around him at the same time, dodging strike after strike.
Except one. It's a surprisingly hard choice to make - his life, or his hand - and he's only given a split second to make it. Squalo kneels in the water, staring at where he knew his sword fell, alongside the hand still gripping it, too shell-shocked to make a single sound. Just stares.
Sword Emperor.
But at what price?
He needs a moment to find his sword, and his stomach turns at having to remove his hand from the hilt, bloodstained and calloused, but he carries it in his right as he stalks over to his fallen opponent, stump still bleeding.
Only to realize he has to put it down again if he's going to do what he aims to. So he does. Jams it into the concrete awkwardly. But his right is barely enough to turn Yamamoto over, soaked uniform and all. He's got to collect the ring, after all.
If the ground shakes under them, Squalo barely notices. They did say they'd release an animal once a certain water level is reached.]
[He has enough presence of mind to be helpful enough to remove the ring from his finger in case Squalo is vindictive enough to return the favor and just chop his hand off to save himself the trouble.]
Here.
[The kid deserved it after all, or perhaps he should already be thinking of him as the Sword Emperor now.]
You should get out while you can.
[In his condition, Yamamoto wasn't going to be getting out, nor could he say he really had the will to.]
[Squalo is struggling just to focus his eyes, but he manages to grab the ring and pocket it. Maybe he should do something about his arm, really, because that's still bleeding enough he won't be conscious for long. It shows, the bloodloss, the steep drop from the adrenaline high. Makes him slur his words. For now he stays, crouching next to his defeated opponent.]
And you're gonna fucking what? Stick your head in a puddle and die like a coward? Wait until whatever the fuck's in the water eats you?
[The teen struggles to his feet, glaring at the downed assassin.]
[Even with his last breath Yamamoto supposes he'll just laugh and tease people, but he's surprised. He had just taken Squalo's hand, and he was showing concern for him.
He sits up, the gesture taking far more energy than he thought he had left.]
It's fine.
[His old man would be pissed to see that he'd lost like this. His uniform is in tatters anyway, so he tears a few strips off of it, forcing himself up. His world spins, but stubbornly Yamamoto stands, breathing ragged.]
Here.
[He ties it tight around his arm to help stem the bleeding.]
No point in beating the Sword Emperor just to die five minutes later, right?
[The sight of his arm just ending before the wrist still turns his stomach. He has to clench his jaw and avert his eyes and he feels his insides lurching anyway as he lets the man do some rudimentary tying off to stem the bleeding.]
Voooooi, I don't die that easy. You shoulda figured that out by now.
[No word of thanks. Squalo smirks at him, unafraid, with complete conviction that Yamamoto won't try to harm him now. The battle is done. Still, he grabs his sword and sheathes it, clumsy with his off hand.]
[There's no ill will towards the other boy, just an anger and disappointment in himself. How could he have lost? He can't decide if it makes it better or worse that he's now being pitied by the younger swordsman, but there's no use in getting angry over it.
The building around them is shaking violently, and he almost misses the sight of a fin circling lazily in the water. He hefts himself up, straightening as best he can. Might as well have some dignity in this whole mess.]
You know they're not going to let us both out right?
[And even if they did, there was no point. He was no use to Xanxus if he couldn't even beat a kid.
He turns back to Squalo, giving him a grin.]
I had a lot of fun though.
[And then he's jumping. He'd have a better chance with a shark than Xanxus, at any rate.]
[There's a moment where his face falls and his stomach drops all over again. It clicks into place like a matter of course, like of course only one of them walks out of here, like a thing that is natural, that makes sense. But the bigger part of him wants to protest and scream at him that none of the others died either, that Ryohei put that creepy fucking fag in the hospital but didn't murder him, that that insane prince cut Gokudera to ribbons but nobody demanded he be killed but there's no time to say any of it.
So he just stares, watching him drop into the water, struggling to keep his feet. Watching as the shark circles and then strikes while the feeling of triumph drains out of him faster than his blood.
It shouldn't be a surprise. He'd called it, even. What happens on the day you lose a fight? Looks like he wasn't about to find out, choosing some honorable suicide instead. Not even he can think of anything to add to that. Instead he lowers his head, taking a moment to gather up the pieces before he makes the ascent.
Squalo grits his teeth and climbs, not even thinking to put the halves of the ring together. He passes out soon after.]
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nestbox2014-06-03 03:10 am
no subject
If Squalo can get distracted by talking, then Yamamoto will keep doing it.]
Haha if you want to know, I'll tell you.
[Even if he doesn't Yamamoto's gaze narrows dangerously, murderous intent steeping the air even more so than the water. His smile is a brutal thing, sharp as a blade.]
Because following him means I have more people to whet my blade against. I have stronger opponents to test myself against. I don't stop improving, and he's the same.
[Each sentence is punctuated with an attack, the water roaring around them.]
no subject
But the pain brings his pride back to the forefront as well, a roaring spiteful thing. Tsuna is too good to simply turn his back on. If he's going to stain his hands for anyone, it's someone who'll still look at him as a person despite it all, and he'll still have every chance to improve. After all, isn't he fighting the sword emperor, already?
Squalo grits his teeth, eyes and focus sharper for the pain.]
And what happens on the day you lose a fight?
no subject
[Yamamoto's tone is light, teasing. This kid has been a pretty funny opponent so far, and he has to approve of the fact that he's even thought to wear a protective vest. Perhaps he had prepared far more than Yamamoto had given him credit for. He'll press forward, trying to use that wound to his advantage, aiming for that spot again.
Still the question is a good one, one that Yamamoto tries not dwell on too often because his losing isn't a possibility.]
My style is invincible and flawless. [That line is said with utter conviction, no hint of doubt in it. His expression is just as clear] But if I do lose, I'll really be the trash that Xanxus says I am.
no subject
[But what Yamamoto is saying is just solidifying his opinion on Xanxus. A powerful and ruthless and cruel man. Completely unforgiving. As much as those were qualities Squalo could appreciate, he wasn't the kind of person the Vongola needed for an heir.
In fact, he called bullshit on the whole ring battle thing from start to finish, even if that hardly had a place here and now. Now, he has to consider if this will be his first kill. Directly or by proxy - because he doesn't have to ask what happens to "trash" - or if he's going to die himself. It's not, he's finding, a question of morals.]
You're fucking delusional. No style is invincible or flawless!
[This time, when the blade descends toward him, he dodges it easily and with precision, countering by striking parallel to it, aiming for the arm.]
no subject
I'll show you.
[Though it was a losing argument with Yamamoto either way, because even if he did lose, it would be through his own failings and had nothing to do with the style. He shook off the momentary image of his father's stern face, swearing out in surprise when Squalo connected with his arm. It'd be little better than useless, and he was surprised that he'd gotten past his guard.
Ah, maybe he had been getting a little ahead of himself.]
Guess I can't play around with someone like you, can I?
[With his arm in that state, he would have to end this quickly. He slid into his ninth stance, deciding that this would be the deciding exchange.]
Let's end this then.
no subject
[He's got his teeth bared, in part because he doesn't know what's coming, in part because he's still struggling against the part of him that seems like a monster in human skin, the part that enjoys the feeling of flesh giving under his blade. Following Tsuna, there are a lot of kinds of crazy he'll get to be, but that isn't one. Can't be.
Instead he watches, backs up a ways as Yamamoto takes his stance. He doesn't know what's coming, he's never seen this stance even studying the style. There's no way of knowing if he'll survive it, no matter how ridiculous and out of place it looks. So he raises his blade and watches, waiting. The pain from his chest and the multitude of smaller cuts barely touches his mind. The cold of the water seeping into him with the continued bloodloss can't compare to the rush of adrenaline.
Now or never. If he can get past this technique, he can win it still. He has to.]
no subject
He'll comfort himself with knowing he's managed to take the kid's sword hand, but he doubts that will mean much in his Boss's eyes. He manages to keep his legs under him for a moment before he's coughing up blood, falling face first into the water. Defeat. How pathetic.]
no subject
Except one. It's a surprisingly hard choice to make - his life, or his hand - and he's only given a split second to make it. Squalo kneels in the water, staring at where he knew his sword fell, alongside the hand still gripping it, too shell-shocked to make a single sound. Just stares.
Sword Emperor.
But at what price?
He needs a moment to find his sword, and his stomach turns at having to remove his hand from the hilt, bloodstained and calloused, but he carries it in his right as he stalks over to his fallen opponent, stump still bleeding.
Only to realize he has to put it down again if he's going to do what he aims to. So he does. Jams it into the concrete awkwardly. But his right is barely enough to turn Yamamoto over, soaked uniform and all. He's got to collect the ring, after all.
If the ground shakes under them, Squalo barely notices. They did say they'd release an animal once a certain water level is reached.]
no subject
Here.
[The kid deserved it after all, or perhaps he should already be thinking of him as the Sword Emperor now.]
You should get out while you can.
[In his condition, Yamamoto wasn't going to be getting out, nor could he say he really had the will to.]
no subject
And you're gonna fucking what? Stick your head in a puddle and die like a coward? Wait until whatever the fuck's in the water eats you?
[The teen struggles to his feet, glaring at the downed assassin.]
Vooooooooooooi. What the hell, Yamamoto?
no subject
[Even with his last breath Yamamoto supposes he'll just laugh and tease people, but he's surprised. He had just taken Squalo's hand, and he was showing concern for him.
He sits up, the gesture taking far more energy than he thought he had left.]
It's fine.
[His old man would be pissed to see that he'd lost like this. His uniform is in tatters anyway, so he tears a few strips off of it, forcing himself up. His world spins, but stubbornly Yamamoto stands, breathing ragged.]
Here.
[He ties it tight around his arm to help stem the bleeding.]
No point in beating the Sword Emperor just to die five minutes later, right?
no subject
Voooooi, I don't die that easy. You shoulda figured that out by now.
[No word of thanks. Squalo smirks at him, unafraid, with complete conviction that Yamamoto won't try to harm him now. The battle is done. Still, he grabs his sword and sheathes it, clumsy with his off hand.]
C'mon, let's get out of here.
[No use waiting for the water to rise further.]
lol fin?
[There's no ill will towards the other boy, just an anger and disappointment in himself. How could he have lost? He can't decide if it makes it better or worse that he's now being pitied by the younger swordsman, but there's no use in getting angry over it.
The building around them is shaking violently, and he almost misses the sight of a fin circling lazily in the water. He hefts himself up, straightening as best he can. Might as well have some dignity in this whole mess.]
You know they're not going to let us both out right?
[And even if they did, there was no point. He was no use to Xanxus if he couldn't even beat a kid.
He turns back to Squalo, giving him a grin.]
I had a lot of fun though.
[And then he's jumping. He'd have a better chance with a shark than Xanxus, at any rate.]
looks that way!
So he just stares, watching him drop into the water, struggling to keep his feet. Watching as the shark circles and then strikes while the feeling of triumph drains out of him faster than his blood.
It shouldn't be a surprise. He'd called it, even. What happens on the day you lose a fight? Looks like he wasn't about to find out, choosing some honorable suicide instead.
Not even he can think of anything to add to that. Instead he lowers his head, taking a moment to gather up the pieces before he makes the ascent.
Squalo grits his teeth and climbs, not even thinking to put the halves of the ring together. He passes out soon after.]