Adrenaline coursed through me, amplified by the raw power of *Shinkai*. I could already see the fight's end—our clash leveling the entire street. But I didn't care. I braced to charge, ready to slap that bitch's ass. In the spirit world, strength knew no gender.
Suddenly, two figures materialized between us. Hayama stood before me, sword in hand, while the captain faced Kirishima.
"What are you doing?" Hayama said. "You need to stop. Now."
I felt Hayama's energy—not just two years older, but at least twice as strong as me. Yet, with my *Shinkai* active, he couldn't stop me without unleashing his own.
"She *slapped* me," I snarled.
"Tell the captain," Hayama said. "If you don't respect him and stop, even if she's wrong, you'll be the one punished for not deactivating *Shinkai*. It'll be seen as a threat to him. You won't escape the consequences. Think before you do something reckless."
I glanced aside. Kirishima had already deactivated her *Shinkai*, and the captain was speaking to her. If I kept going, I'd be the only one in trouble—again, like at the academy. I sighed, canceled *Shinkai*, and my sword returned to its normal hue. I sheathed it.
The captain approached us. "Tell me your side of the story," he said.
"I came to the street as you instructed," I said. "I arrived early to warm up, but she appeared out of nowhere and attacked. I didn't know who she was at first. When I saw her name on her jacket and realized she was on our team, I tried to stop, but she exploited my lowered guard and slapped me—multiple times. Then she called me weak, and I snapped."
"Alright," the captain said, turning. "Kirishima, come here."
Kirishima approached, her hand resting on her sheathed sword. Seeing her now, with that confident stride, she was beautiful—stunningly so. But it didn't dull my anger. I wasn't *that* soft.
"Did you slap him?" the captain asked.
"Yes," Kirishima said, her tone flat.
"Did you exploit a gap in his defense after he read your name, realized you weren't a threat, and lowered his guard?"
"I slapped him after seeing a weakness in his defense," Kirishima said. "I think he's just making excuses, sir."
"Excuses?" I roared, my hand gripping my sword, ready to cut out her tongue, but Hayama grabbed me, holding me back.
"Alright, there's one way to settle this," the captain said. "You'll rematch. If Kirishima can't slap you again, or if time runs out before she does, Reiji, you get to slap her to settle the score."
"Fine," Kirishima said, her expression unchanging.
I was nervous, of course. The first slap came because I'd lowered my guard unconsciously after reading her name, no longer feeling my life was at stake. The later slaps? I wasn't sure—maybe my body instinctively relaxed without the threat of death, or maybe I *was* making excuses. In this rematch, with no danger to my life, I was on edge. If she slapped me again, my pride would be shattered, my respect in the team would tank, and this story might spread, ruining my fresh start. I wouldn't let that happen.
"The rules are simple," the captain said. "The fight lasts ten minutes. The winner is whoever lands a slap. If no one gets slapped, Reiji Kurasaki wins. No *Shinkai*, but you can use all other abilities. The fight starts when we jump to the rooftop. Ready?"
"Yes," I said.
"Yes," Kirishima echoed.
The captain and Hayama leaped to the rooftop across from the park, signaling the start.
"I didn't use any abilities before," Kirishima said coldly. "Even if you're telling the truth, you won't win if I do."
She charged, moving with the same blistering speed as before. Without *Shinkai*, my ability to slow time and move faster gave me no edge. Without it, I'd be blind.
I drew my sword, parrying her strikes, forced back as she pressed her relentless assault.
All I had to do was avoid getting slapped and hold out until time ran out. But what were her abilities? She hadn't used them yet. Was she waiting? Did she think she could humiliate me without them? I wouldn't let her.
I wasn't limited to one ability, but my strongest needed at least *Shinkai* to activate. Without it, my current powers were child's play—my curse. She'd never understand, but I wouldn't let her win.
Using three abilities—Time Slow, Time Cut, and Probability Cut—I dodged her attacks. Time Slow, always active, let me track her strikes and move faster to evade them, but it drained energy fast. I used Probability Cut and Time Cut in critical moments, cutting out possibilities like attacks from the right or above, predicting she'd come from the left or below. If I misjudged, Time Cut rewound my body half a second, like reversing a video for my body alone, letting me dodge—though it didn't always work, like when she'd slapped me.
These abilities burned spiritual energy fast. I wasn't sure I could last more than five or six minutes. After that, gaps would appear in my defense, she'd exploit them, and the fight would end.
I held out for five minutes, and she still hadn't used her abilities. My energy was waning, my powers' effectiveness fading, and gaps would soon emerge. Then, after another minute of her pushing harder, switching her fighting style, I saw her expression shift—like she realized something.
She stopped in the street, and I quickly stepped back, creating distance. *She's finally using her abilities. I'm done. My fresh start is over.* I could already see myself trying to buy cigarettes, maybe even alcohol, to forget tonight. I'd throw myself on the bed, play porn on that big TV, and smoke or drink. That's what I did after bad days in the capital.
But what happened next floored me. She sheathed her sword, looked up at the captain and Hayama, and said, "I surrender. This is how long our last fight took, and I couldn't slap him now with the same attacks, strength, and speed. I even changed my approach, thinking he'd adapted, but it didn't work. I surrender. He can slap me and take his due."
I stood there, stunned, unable to believe her words. She could've won if she'd kept going for the full ten minutes. She stepped closer, standing right in front of me, and said, "Do it. The same number of slaps I gave you."
Hayama and the captain descended, standing nearby, watching what I'd do.
I looked into her beautiful eyes, her full lips. Up close, she was breathtaking. I wanted to kiss her, not slap her. No way could I hit her. The captain and Hayama watched curiously—would they have done it? I doubted it.
This was a new beginning. I wouldn't ruin it by slapping a girl. But doing nothing would make me look weak to her, and slapping her would ensure she'd never forget or forgive me, killing any chance with her. So, I chose a middle path, seizing the moment.
I placed both hands on her cheeks, gently squeezing them to make her face adorably pouty. Her cheeks were soft, warm. I nearly kissed her but quickly pulled my hands back and said, "This is enough for me."
Hayama and the captain's jaws hit the floor. Kirishima's mouth fell open, equally shocked, then her face flushed red—anger or embarrassment, I couldn't tell. Her hand gripped her sword's hilt, and my eyes fell on her necklace—the Pure Hand Order. I'd noticed it before and completely forgotten. Their creed deemed a man touching a woman, even her hand, a grave sin, harshly punished. And I, the idiot, had not only touched her face but squeezed her cheeks.
She drew her sword, pointing it at my throat. "Touch me like that again, and I'll cut off your filthy hands. I'll call this a draw, but you won't have an excuse next time." She wiped her cheeks immediately and leaped to the rooftop where the captain and Hayama had been.
I saw Hayama struggling to suppress a laugh, though it was obvious. The captain coughed and said, "Alright, that was a good fight. Your defense was impressive. Now it's my turn against Hayama. Get to the rooftop to watch."
I jumped up, buzzing with excitement to spectate. Kirishima stood at least ten meters away, glaring at me with disgust before turning to the street where Hayama and the captain faced off.
She was mesmerizing, even those scornful looks were beautiful. Her stance, her short hair—I'd always preferred long hair, but she'd changed my mind fast. I'd fall for her if I stared too long, so I forced myself to focus on the street.
The captain and Hayama stood opposite each other, hands on their sheathed swords, not yet drawn. I hoped they'd use their abilities so we could see them. They bowed to each other, then drew their swords in perfect sync, lightning-fast, signaling the fight's start.