Splintered wood creaked. Flames crawled along beams and broken furniture, feeding slowly, steadily, as smoke thickened in the air. The heat pressed down heavier now, the purple glow of the brothel swallowed by flickering orange light. Amid the wreckage, Hanko stirred first.
A strained breath escaped him as he pushed himself up from the shattered remains of the bed and wardrobe. His body tensed, muscles tightening as he rolled his shoulder and straightened, bits of wood falling from his robe. Then he let out a low chuckle before it grew slightly louder.
"Not bad," Hanko muttered, dragging a hand across his mouth as he steadied himself. "For a sectless nobody..."
He lifted his gaze, locking onto Kenta across the damaged floor.
"...you've had some solid training."
Kenta was already moving, pushing himself off the cracked pillar he'd slammed into. His breathing was heavier now, controlled but strained, as he rolled his neck once and stepped forward. Hanko tilted his head slightly, curiosity slipping into his expression.
"So," he went on, "who exactly trained you?"
Kenta paused for half a second. Then he stood fully upright.
"Not your business," he said.
Hanko smirked faintly. "Figured you'd say that."
Kenta's eyes didn't waver.
"But he's dead," Kenta added, his tone flat. "So it's not like you can go ask him for pointers anyway."
There was a subtle shift in his voice. Not louder. Not sharper. Just colder.
"And even if he were alive," Kenta continued, "he hated scum like you. So I doubt he'd teach you anything."
Hanko's smirk twitched. Then faded.
"You're a real piece of work," he muttered, rolling his shoulder again as he stepped forward. "Certifiable asshole."
Kenta scoffed lightly, brushing dust from his sleeve.
"Coming from the guy who runs a brothel full of trafficked women?" he said. "Uses them. Abuses them. Kills them when he feels like it?"
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Hanko's twisted grin returned.
"I'm going to enjoy watching you suffer," Hanko said quietly.
Kenta's lips curved faintly.
"Yeah?" he replied. "I'll enjoy snapping your neck."
He rolled his wrist once, ice forming again along his fingers.
"Though honestly," he added, almost thoughtfully, "that's probably too quick for someone like you. But that's just the kind of guy I am. Showing my enemies some small mercy like a quick death."
Silence hit. No more words. They moved at the same time. Again.
Their hands surged forward, both instantly coated in their respective elements. Ice crawled thick and jagged over Kenta's arms, while flames roared along Hanko's, heat distorting the space between them.
Their hands collided. Locked. Palm to palm. Fingers gripping. Ice grinding against fire. For a moment, neither gave an inch. Their arms trembled under the force as they pushed against each other, muscles straining, magic crackling wildly between them.
Their foreheads slammed together. Once. Twice. Again. The impact was brutal; neither of them pulled back, both forcing forward, trying to overpower the other through sheer will and strength.
Blood began to trickle down. From Kenta's brow. From Hanko's. Mixing with sweat, dripping onto the scorched wood beneath their feet. Sparks of magic flared around them, bursts of ice and flame erupting outward in chaotic flashes as the clash intensified.
The entire floor creaked louder. Boards shifted beneath them. Neither cared as they pushed harder and harder against each other. Their breaths grew heavier, sharper, each exhale filled with effort.
Then a shift occured.A small shift but enough. Kenta's footing slipped. One loose floorboard shifted beneath his heel, throwing off his balance just slightly. Hanko felt it and took it.
A grin snapped across his face as he twisted his body sharply, breaking the stalemate in an instant. He spun Kenta around with a violent motion, using the shift in weight against him—
Then hurled him upward. Kenta's body lifted off the ground, crashing through the weakened ceiling above with a loud crack of splintering wood. He disappeared into the third floor.
Hanko didn't pause. Didn't even watch the impact. He jumped immediately, flames trailing behind him as he launched upward through the hole Kenta had made.
The third floor was darker. More enclosed. Rooms lined the space, doors half-open or broken, furniture scattered throughout. Kenta lay prone for a brief moment where he'd landed, his body tense as he drew in a sharp breath, recovering.
Above him Hanko descended. Fast. His body angled downward, his right arm blazing brighter than before, flames roaring around it as he aimed straight for Kenta's chest.
A killing blow. Kenta's eyes snapped open. At the last second he rolled away. Hanko's strike missed just barely. His flaming arm slammed straight through the floorboards where Kenta had been, the impact punching through into the level below with a violent crash.
The wood splintered apart around his arm, debris scattering. For a split second he was stuck. That was all Kenta needed. He spun around, pushing off the ground as frost surged over his left arm, forming into a sharp, extended claw once more.
He struck. The icy claw cut across Hanko's face straight through his left eye. A wet, tearing sound followed. Then a pained scream. Hanko recoiled instantly, ripping his arm free from the floor as he staggered backward, clutching at his face.
Blood poured through his fingers. His breathing became erratic and uneven.
"YOU—!" he roared, his voice breaking as he stumbled further back, putting distance between them.
He crashed through the doorway behind him, slamming into another room, knocking over furniture as he went. His back hit the wall hard before he slid slightly, one hand still pressed tightly against his ruined eye.
Blood trickled down his cheek. Through his fingers. Dripping onto the floor. His left eye had gone completely dark. Utterly useless now.
"Damn you...!" Hanko hissed, his voice filled with fury, pain, and something else now that was completely unstable. "Kenta...!"
Kenta stood slowly, his chest rising and falling heavier now, his body marked with burns, cuts, and dust from the collapsing structure. But his expression barely changed, minus a faint smile slowly forming on his face.
"Serves you right," he muttered. "You piece of shit."