“You won’t hurt me, I promise.”
Had word got out about her strength? Why were all these fight-hungry high schoolers finding her? They all wanted to train, they said, to learn some new moves. Makoto wasn’t much of a teacher, and she really didn’t like fighting people younger than her, but this girl was so persistent.
That Kunio guy must’ve told her. He’ll get his later.
Makoto stands across from the girl, both women taking care to stretch beforehand. The girl- Misako- grins at Makoto and offers what sounds like famous last words.
“You won’t hurt me, I promise.”
Makoto cracks her knuckles. “That’s what Kunio said.”
Makoto’s onslaught is relentless, because she neither knows how to and doesn’t care to learn how to hold back. Every time Misako tries something, Makoto is already there; as with most ordinary humans, the girl might as well be moving in slow motion to Makoto.
The girl’s got talent, for sure. Tenacity too, and a fair bit of strength. It’s just unfortunate that her chosen opponent is someone who can punch a hole in a wall and who overcame death via sheer willpower.
Finally, after a rolling sweep that sends Misako to the ground, Makoto steps back. She’s barely broken a sweat. “Well? You had enough?” she asks.
For a moment, Makoto thinks maybe she went too far, judging by the way Misako is still lying on the ground. But a moment later, the girl jumps to her feet with a smirk on her face. “Damn, Kunio was right. You’re the real deal!”
At least no permanent damage was done. Makoto relaxes just a little, rolling her shoulder. “I warned you. He’s never been able to bet me yet, either. I mean, nothing against you, it’s just that-”
“You’re a fighting master.”
“Aw, thanks! But what I was gonna say is that I’m a beastkin. We’re way stronger than normal humans. So it’s not like you’re weak, it’s just… Well!” Makoto runs a hand through her hair and laughs, ears flicking at her own touch. “I’m just at a whole ‘nother level.”
“Ohh. That’s what it is…” Misako suddenly looks serious, bringing a hand to her chin. “Honestly, I just figured you were some weird cosplayer.”
Makoot sputters. “Cos-! No, these are all real!”
“Good thing, too! I was thinking you were way too old to be dressing like that.”
Misako raises her fists, grinning once more. “Ahh, look at you! You look like you’re ready to go another round now! Best two outta three?”
Misako gets her second round.
In the aftermath, Makoto pulls her phone from her pocket. Unscathed, thankfully. After that comes the awkward dance of moving it between her ears and her mouth while she waits for the person on the other end of the line to pick up.
“Makoto? Is everything alright?” comes Tsubaki’s voice.
Any malice that had been floating in Makoto’s head quickly melts away. “Heya! Just a quick question! When we were in the Academy, on a scale of one to ten, how much of a brat was I?”
There’s an agonizing pause that follows, one that tells Makoto all she needs to know.
“I think, on average, perhaps a six?” says Tsubaki. “Of course, it was dependent on a lot of things...”
“A six,” groans Makoto. “Man, this is karma, isn’t it?”
“Is something the matter, Makoto?”
“No, just being harassed by high schoolers. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Well try not to hurt them, at least.”
“It’s hard, because they want me to spar with them. They won’t leave me alone!”
“Maybe you could pick up a second job?” The smile in Tsubaki’s voice is evident.
“I’ll see you at home,” sighs Makoto. “Bye Tsubaki, love ya.”
“Makoto, please try not to cause too much tr-”
The phone goes back into her pocket, and Makoto steps over to Misako. She’s still conscious, just nursing her wounds on the asphalt. “Let me guess,” she says, leaning over the prone girl. “Next you’re gonna ask for best of five, right?”
