The close contact maintained for one more second, with Bīng Xuě’s arm partially surrounding Aku’s neck and pressure adjusting millimeter by millimeter. The difference at that point wasn’t marked by force, but by exact placement of each support. Aku maintained low chin, forearm interposed between his throat and his companion’s arm, creating minimal but sufficient space to prevent control from closing completely. His rear foot slid a few centimeters outward, seeking wider base, and his hip turned in the same direction, breaking alignment Bīng Xuě needed to complete control.

That adjustment changed rhythm.

Aku pushed with forearm upward, freeing neck, and at same time introduced shoulder under Bīng Xuě’s arm, forcing him to release to not lose balance. Contact broke, and both retreated half step, but this time Aku didn’t limit himself to recovering distance. His front foot advanced immediately, entering line Bīng Xuě had just abandoned.

Transition was clean.

His guard remained compact, but torso tilted slightly forward. Muscle memory of body he inhabited began marking cadence. Wasn’t abrupt change, but accumulation of precise adjustments. Weight distribution refined, hip rotation became more efficient, and each impulse from ground found direct exit in movement chain.

First blow arrived without prior warning.

Straight from right, short, without unnecessary trajectory, directed toward chest center. Didn’t seek forceful impact. Sought to fix attention, force Bīng Xuě to close middle line.

Bīng Xuě reacted, lowering elbows slightly to intercept.

That was objective.

Second blow changed trajectory at last instant. Aku’s left hand ascended at closed angle, grazing Bīng Xuě’s guard and directing toward jaw base. Movement wasn’t wide. Was compact displacement of shoulder and elbow, taking advantage of space he himself had generated.

Impact wasn’t complete, but sufficient to displace Bīng Xuě’s head a few centimeters to one side.

Aku didn’t stop.

Rear foot advanced, reducing distance even more. Hip turned precisely, and right fist descended in blow directed at side. Hepatic zone was again objective, but this time angle was cleaner.

Impact was clear.

Soft tissue absorbed force, and Bīng Xuě’s body reacted with involuntary contraction. Breathing interrupted for instant.

Aku maintained pressure.

Didn’t seek isolated blow, but sequence. Left hand descended toward abdomen, striking just below sternum, at solar plexus zone. Force wasn’t maximum, but placement was exact. Air escaped Bīng Xuě’s lungs again in more marked sound.

Rhythm control passed to Aku’s hands.

His body moved with growing efficiency. Each fiber responded precisely, as if each contraction were measured beforehand. Internal energy distributed uniformly, accumulating at impulse points and releasing at exact contact moment. Wasn’t brute force. Was total coordination.

Bīng Xuě retreated half step.

Aku advanced.

Distance remained constant.

Another straight.

Another feint.

Level change.

Combat became more linear, but also more dangerous. Aku had found cadence that worked, and was exploiting it without deviating. His blows weren’t spectacular, but each forced Bīng Xuě to react, to close spaces, to absorb impacts.

Short hook again grazed jaw.

Body blow impacted again on side.

Accumulation began showing.

Bīng Xuě didn’t lose composure, but breathing became heavier. Movements remained precise, but had lost initiative. Was responding.

Aku took another step.

Left shoulder advanced, feinting high blow. Bīng Xuě raised guard.

Blow didn’t arrive.

Right fist descended in straight line toward abdomen.

Impact.

Bīng Xuě’s body contracted.

Aku took advantage.

Left hand rose in ascending blow, seeking chin from below.

Movement was fast.

Too clean.

For instant, seemed combat tilted definitively.

But at that same instant, Bīng Xuě changed.

Not in speed.

In reading.

Had absorbed sufficient information.

Rear foot turned, deviating body axis out of blow line. Chin withdrew barely few centimeters, just enough for Aku’s fist to pass grazing without clean impact. Right hand didn’t block. Slid along Aku’s forearm, following trajectory, reducing residual force.

Contact didn’t break.

Transformed.

Bīng Xuě used that same arm as guide, pulling slightly from it while body displaced toward external lateral. Hip positioned outside Aku’s front line, and front foot positioned behind his.

Axis change.

Aku tried readjusting.

Weight was forward from offensive sequence. Base was solid, but at that moment was committed to advance.

Bīng Xuě took advantage.

Left arm surrounded Aku’s shoulder, not to hold, but to direct. At same time, rear leg pushed against ground, generating rotation that displaced Aku’s center of gravity outside base.

Wasn’t violent projection.

Was clean imbalance.

Aku lost alignment.

Front foot didn’t find stable support attempting to correct, and body descended in controlled but inevitable form.

Bīng Xuě accompanied movement.

Didn’t just let fall.

Arm passed from shoulder to neck in continuous gesture, adjusting to correct position. Forearm placed under jaw, and other arm closed space, fixing structure.

Rear control.

Not complete yet.

But sufficient.

Aku reacted.

Hand directed toward Bīng Xuě’s forearm, trying to create space. Body tried turning, seeking less pressured side.

Bīng Xuě adjusted.

Hip descended, weight aligned with Aku’s back, and legs positioned to block lateral movement. Didn’t squeeze with excessive force. Didn’t need it. Placement was correct.

Pressure increased gradually.

Controlled.

Precise.

Aku stopped movement.

Not from lack of capacity.

From reading.

Escape margin in that position was minimal without resorting to something beyond physical combat.

Exchange had ended.

For second, neither moved.

Then Bīng Xuě loosened grip and separated, taking step back. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Aku stood up unhurriedly, adjusting posture.

Both looked at each other.

Without tension.

Without words.

Combat had made necessary clear.

From field center, laughter broke silence.

Natasha.

Loud.

Direct.

Wasn’t contained laugh.

Was open.

"That was a real combat."

Her voice projected clearly as she walked toward them. Gaze swept both, evaluating each detail, each adjustment, each decision made during confrontation.

Stopped before them, crossing arms again.

"Thought this class was full of failures."

Smile marked barely second.

"Or so I believed."

Gaze stopped first on Aku.

Then Bīng Xuě.

"But seems not all of you are useless."

Wasn’t soft compliment.

But recognition was there.

Clear.

Direct.

And sufficient.

***

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