The yard had not yet stilled from Shira's victory. Whispers ran restless through the crowd, the echoes of his strikes and Temari's endurance still alive on every tongue. Yet already the ring was being prepared again. Chalk lines were drawn anew where sandals had smeared them.
"Isan!"
The name rang sharp. He stepped forward at once, not in haste but in certainty, his body answering before thought.
"Daiana!"
Her name followed. She walked forward without pause, shorter steps but no less certain.
They stopped across from each other. For a moment neither spoke, neither shifted. The sun struck across the chalk between them, and dust hung in the air, shimmering faintly before sinking back to the stone.
Isan bent his knees slightly, weight forward on the balls of his feet. His guard rose high, compact, elbows close, fists just below eye level. His chin dipped, shoulders narrowing his frame.
Daiana's guard was leaner, narrower, her fists low at first, her stance shifting, light.
The signal came, as the instructor's voice rang out in the yard.
Daiana closed the distance at once, her fists cutting sharp arcs meant to catch him off rhythm.
She struck high, then dropped low in the same motion, her body twisting from impossible angles that drew gasps from the crowd.
Her heel snapped out at his shin the moment she started to retract her fist.
Isan did not flinch under the fierce assault by his best friend. His guard stayed compact, his arms shifting only as far as needed.
The first strike dodged, the second was blocked softly while retreating a little.
Whenever she tried to slip inside, his leg came up fast, driving into her thigh with a deep thud.
She winced but pushed forward, her shoulder lowering to drive him back.
He anchored himself like stone, not giving any ground under the desperate shoulder tackle of Daiana.
Taking advatange of being close, Isan seized the opening, one hand clamping the back of her head as his knee snapped upward.
Daiana seeing the impending strike, froze momentarily yet she shoved herself forward, slipping narrowly to the side. The blow skimmed her ear, the glancing contact exploding in a sharp ring that flooded her skull.
She spun with the momentum of her stumble, whipping her leg upward in a desperate high kick.
This time was Isan momentarily caught off guard by Daiana's reaction and follow-up attack, although he managed to grab her leg before hitting him.
Rotating on his heel, while holding her by her lower left leg, he spun and threw her away.
Daiana tumbled across the grit, sand kicking up in a yellow cloud as she skidded just short of the chalk line. Students near the edge coughed and waved dust from their faces.
She rose slowly, eyes narrowing, massaging her leg where his grip had burned a red mark into the skin.
She lunged again, this time low, feinting for his ankle. Isan stamped his heel down, cutting the approach, but she withdrew at once, her retreat nothing but bait. She spun sharply, backhanding him across the jaw before his guard closed.
The crack split the yard.
Isan's head snapped aside, the skin along his jaw reddening instantly. The crowd erupted, half in disbelief, half in exhilaration.
Daiana pressed her chance. She struck high, then low, her fists darting like pistons.
One caught his side, another grazed his chin.
The crowd roared at every touch, voices surging with disbelief.
A small smile graced briefly on Daiana and Isan faces before swiftly disappearing the next second.
Isan stepped through her next strike, dodging in doing so her fist, following it was a punch to her gut.
Daiana swiftly reacted, bringing her arms forward to protect.
No pain followed as the weak impact echoed lightly, confusion apparent in Daiana's face before being replaced by pain as she let out a small scream.
Retreating a little, Isan assumed once more his stance while placing his left arm a little more forward than normal.
On the other side, Daiana had collapsed to one knee as her leg gave out, due to the agony flaring in it, the same one he had battered earlier buckled beneath.
Although she hadn't even seen it, she could guess what just happened.
Gasps rolled through the crowd. Some had missed it entirely, focused on his feinted punch rather than the subtle kick that had crippled her leg a heartbeat earlier.
"That guy... that was dirty.", Temari voice sounded beside Shira, as a certain weird mixture of admiration and disgust was apparent in her face.
Shira, on the other hand, remained silent while storing what he just witnessed in his mind. It was something that he should learn and adapt to his fighting style from now on.
Baki's eyes glinted momentarily as he saw Isan standing over Daiana, his mind raced replicating the scene he had just witnessed.
'That little... that punch... if he followed on that punch he could have done serious damage, yet he discard it for kicking her in the same spot as before.'
Daiana knelt, her breath ragged, her hands braced in the sand. Pain twisted across her features, yet her eyes still burned with refusal.
Isan stood above her, his guard still high, his breathing steady. The yard had gone silent but for her gasping, the weight of the exchange sinking into every witness.
At last, Daiana pushed herself upright. Her arms trembled as she forced her guard halfway back into place, her face pale with strain. She swayed as her leg was still trembling and in pain.
Nevertheless, she lifted her chin and looked deeply and fiercely into Isan's own eyes.
Isan's expression softened, his fists lowering as he stepped forward. He extended his hand, palm open, steady and certain.
Daiana hesitated, her breath ragged, then placed her own hand into his. Her grip was firm despite the tremor in her arm.
They smiled at each other, as Isan helped her out and put her arm around his neck and helped walk away.