Free Soul | Natasha Romanoff

Chapter 5: learning to learn and to live

"Shouldn't we warm up first?"

Months had passed.

"This is the warm up."

Cold spring had come.

"Natasha, I don't think-"

"No talking." They got each other in a tight hold, using the other's clothes as a chokehold. Their faces were barely a few inches apart, none willing to give up on their offense. And she said in a low voice, breathless: "You're wasting your breath."

They shared an intense look while Hyunjae's gaze darkened, although before she could do anything else, Natasha had already swiped her feet off. But her hand followed. The Korean seized this occasion to snake her legs around her arm and make the redhead fall. They both recovered and got up at the same time, their cautious eyes tracing their opponent's intentions.

They put their guard up; it was clear that Hyunjae had received a prominent east asian style training whilst Natasha had been more of the western style. The polar opposites encountered, now charging at each other. Natasha threw her fist and Hyunjae put her arm up, passing under her swing to break through her guard. She was about to use her carpals to hit her solar plexus.

It was what Natasha wanted. She just had enough time to grab her hand and twist her wrist outward, so Hyunjae had no other choice but to bend before an easy punch connected with her jaw. Yet, it wasn't much of a problem as she grabbed Natasha's leg and pressed her fingertips deep in her calf's sides, making the redhead groan and release her strong grip on her. 

Following the flow, Hyunjae spun and high kicked her in the chin. Natasha stumbled back, stunned, leaving her opponent enough room to get up and resume with taekwondo-like bounces to ready her legs. Then followed a flurry of punches, blocks, dodges, kicks— an open style combat. Their stamina was slowly getting consumed, overworking their erratic lungs.

Sweat was covering their forehead and dripped onto their neck, staining their shirts in the very heat of effort. None of the two wanted to stop as their strengths were just about equals, their ego too high up to even dare admitting defeat. Any mistake cost a blow, any wrong move ended with a counter strike as a punishment for their misanalysis, too blunt instead of sharp.  

And after what seemed to be forever, Natasha began to feel some tingling in her limbs. It had started with her shoulder, the numbness then seeped through her forearm before reaching her fingers. Her movements became sloppy, her jabs and kicks weaker. Hyunjae had more and more opportunities to get a good hit in. She was too nimble and her strikes were honed and precise.

Just like a continuous flow of well-balanced water, the Korean was a relentless flow of short but blunt waves coming straight from the abyss and crashing onto the beach full force, before instantly retiring itself and coming back again with the exact same amount of intensity. Hyunjae was the lethal kind of fighter, tapping onto the surface to find the right point to strike. 

Thus Natasha was being overwhelmed; she couldn't do anything but block and dodge near the end and, eventually, she had tried a poor attempt at a counter attack, throwing a kick in once she saw an opening— an opening Hyunjae had purposefully left there. So the latter got her leg in a scissor hold, and twisted so as to throw her down face first— the fatal point she had found. 

Natasha tried to retaliate out of pent up frustration, but Hyunjae was too fast for her and already had her arm snaked around the redhead's in an arm lock, the free one pushing her head further into the ground, her cheek now pressed harshly against it. The loud thud of defeat echoed in the training room, catching some other agents' attention and their utter bewilderment. 

Because the newbie defeated the Agent Romanoff. 

"As I was saying..." Hyunjae's voice was barely a murmur, her face so close to hers that her warm breath was crashing onto her glistening skin, "Natasha, I don't think we should start right away. You're not prepared."