Fates Entwined (A TodoBaku ff) ✔

XI

Shoto tightened his grip on the sword, swinging it lightly to find the right balance. Bakugou seemed to thrive off the madly cheering crowds, grinning like a beast staring down its prey. Well, he couldn't make it too easy for him now, could he?

Taking the king by surprise he made the first move, swinging his sword in a wide arch so the tip almost scraped Bakugou's throat. In retaliation his attack was blocked on the second try, and soon the loud clanging of swords blocking each other at every turn overtook the noise of the crowd in his ears. Bakugou's sword was longer, but it took more time to use, allowing Shoto to move quickly into the man's blind spots and attack. Stepping left and right, parrying and rolling to avoid being stabbed or sliced, Shoto was only focused on the sight in front of him. It was a fast and wild battle, so much different from when he sparred with his father, his energy full of something he could estimate to be excitement, running off the adrenaline-infused energy of the man in front of him.

Bakugou was an excellent fighter. He moved quickly, his footwork nimble and fluid. He attacked at every opportunity, sending the pair diving and sliding and clashing all around the clearing. At this moment there was no clear winner, no way to say who was stronger than the other, for when Shoto managed to jab Bakugou's ribs the man managed to swipe at his ankle. Their exchange was wild, and Shoto could hear the blood rushing through his body, the air flowing through his lungs. It was incredible. 

With one misstep Bakugou had managed to send the fight into one corner of the clearing, driving Shoto closer and closer to the fence. Deciding to take the high ground, somewhat literally, he stepped up onto the fencing and jumped over Bakugou just as the man sent his sword in a large arc, the metal getting trapped in the wood. Shoto kicked the back of Bakugou's right knee before jogging back to make some distance, knowing the fight was far from over now he had the upper hand.

When the king turned around Shoto was greeted with eyes full of emotions from anger to intrigue to humiliation to excitement. Dust coated his clothes, as it no doubt did his own, and his body paints were beginning to smear making him look like a warrior in the midst of a fierce battle. Their chests heaved as they ran at each other again, swords clashing and deep breaths syncing. His sword, being heavier than the ones in Endeavour, was beginning to burden his arms, the muscles growing tense. Bakugou seemed to notice and made a dive for his dominant right arm; Shoto, taking the risk, dove under the attack and hit Bakugou's knee once more before throwing his sword to the side. This was the real fight he knew Bakugou wanted, anyways. 

"Finally, you bastard." Bakugou growled, throwing his sword too, the crowds shouting rather violent encouragements as they prepared to fight once more.

What Bakugou had in brute strength Shoto had in speed. He had lean muscle of his own, his body strong and hardened from years of training under his father, but he hadn't ever before seen such a wild and powerful way of fighting as Bakugou was portraying now. Rapid punches, cuts and kicks were unrestrained, and Shoto was giving back each one with all his might. He had never fought so hard before, but at this moment that raging fire inside him was burning stronger and hotter than ever before. He was not going to lose this fight. 

The distance between them lessened as they turned to more sneaky and foul combat. Limbs were punched and pulled, definitely bruising by the end of the day, and the blood rushing was hushed by the air whistling past his ears when he dodged each of Bakugou's attacks to the head. The longer they fought the more tired he became, but he began to notice patterns in Bakugou's attacks. He was versatile in all fighting forms it seemed, but he definitely held dominance on his right side like Shoto. He took the defensive for a moment to study it more before taking his chance at victory. 

When Bakugou once again threw a right-handed hook, he caught the arm and swung it back before sending a kick at the man's back. As Bakugou stumbled he tackled him to the floor, his muscles straining as Bakugou tried to flip them over. He felt something sparking against his arm as he focused on trying to pin down the back of Bakugou's shoulders, the sparking burning for a moment before he slipped around the man and shoved him down. Deciding it was time, he sent a rush of ice from his hands, pinning Bakugou's fists down to the ground before holding an icy cold palm to the back of the man's neck, the unmistakable glint of a dagger made of pure ice pressing dangerously against his skin.