Honing that Edge (Open)

There was something about the heat of combat that Judai loved. The rest of it was kind of a pain. The warm up, the testing of each other guards, the cool down and reflection, all of that stuff was just annoying pretense before and after the fact. But the actual meat of combat, that Judai loved.

His right arm snapped to the left to deflect the roundhouse kick that was screaming towards his head. His left arm slid upwards to reinforce his aching appendage as his opponent had already drawn his leg back and chambered another kick. His guard was tested two more times, the leg slamming into his arm twice more, once at chest high before another kick was aimed at his head.

Still, that last one had been just a touch too much and his opponent overextended. Just a bit. But it was enough.

Judai pushed his arm against his opponent's leg sending it to the side, opening up his opponent's stance for just a moment. Judai's left fist lashed out and caught his opponent in the chest. The blow was blocked, but with his stance still uneven from the deflected kick, his opponent stumbled backwards off balance.

Not that Judai would let him recover. A short hop forward put him in range. His left foot came up for a snap kick and was caught by his opponent's guard. But that was the plan. His left foot gently tapped into his opponents arms just as his right leg rocketed upwards and dug into his opponents chest. Or it would have, if his opponent hadn't shifted his arm and deflected that blow away.

Judai landed lightly on the floor, but even that light landing took time to recover. By the time Judai was ready to move again, his opponent had already chambered another roundhouse kick to his head.

It was 15 seconds later that Judai was finally given reprieve from being used as a kicking bag.

"Finished. Alright, get off the mats. Next person get up here." The instructor called out before hustling Judai to move along as the next pair was called up. Judai gladly stumbled away as his fatigue made itself known now that the haze of sparring had fallen away.

Judai groaned as he fell onto the floor and just tried to catch his breathe. His father had sent him over to the Ori-Shiki Dojo to train. It was something he did every now and then to keep Judai's skills sharp. Something about having the same sparring partners too often breeding bad habits.

Judai had arrived just in time to join some students' marathon sparring sessions. Once you were called up, you got to spar each and every other student one after another. It was a test of stamina, one that Judai was sorely feeling.

"Get up." Judai gasped as a foot tapped him in the ribs. One of the instructors glared down at him and gave him another tap for incentive to move. "You're next. Get ready." Judai groaned but picked himself up and jogged over to the center of the room.

The current student was blitzing through one of the students before the whistle cut through the air again. It was Judai's turn. Feeling a bit reckless, Judai rushed forward before hopping into the air and twisting into a flying side kick. If it failed, his opponent would have plenty of time to counter and defeat him, if it landed it would be a devastating blow. Either way, it would be a quick and epic finish for either of them.