Midnight's Reign

Chapter 1

Air is forced from her lungs as she's flipped onto her back. She lays there, attempting to catch her breath as the afternoon sun shines in her face.

"You gotta be quicker than that, Kimoto." Says Tengen as he leans down, offering her a hand.

"Yeah, yeah. I know," Asami replies as she accepts his offer and stands, brushing off the dirt from her pants. "My mind was somewhere else."

"Oh? What about?"

"Nothing, just...thinking."

"Did it hurt?" Tengen crosses his arms, an amused expression on his face.

"No, my back feels fine."

"I meant when you were thinking." He smirks.

Asami shoots him a glare and lightly smacks him on the shoulder, earning a laugh from the man.

"Har har." She rolls her eyes but she can't help the smile that appears on her lips.

As bothersome as he is at times, Tengen is definitely someone who Asami can count on to have a good time. His unserious demeanor is always a welcome one. Most of the Hashira were gathered at headquarters, currently sparring with one another to pass the time.

"My turn." Sanemi approaches, a cocky smile upon his lips.

She raises a delicate eyebrow, but says nothing as the two move to the center of the sparring area. A soft breeze moves around them, fluttering their clothing. She stands before him, her face neutral and her posture straight. Without warning, he bolts forward. His hands aim for her shoulders, intending to pin her down, but she's faster. She angles her torso so he just misses; his hands grasping nothing but air.

He lunges again and again, failing to grab her as she dodges away from his attacks.

"Kick his ass, Asami!" Mitsuri cheers from the sidelines. A growl escapes his lips, clearly frustrated. She smiles as she ducks under his arms, now standing behind him.

He whirls around. "Is running away the only thing you know how to do?" He huffs.

Her eyes flash and she's no longer standing in front of him; vanishing in thin air. In the same second, she appears right beside him and drives her knee into his stomach. He hunches over with a grunt and is met with her knee to his face.

Before he can recover, she grabs his arm, twists, and flips him over her shoulder, landing hard on his back. Placing his hands beside his head, he kicks his feet up, springing back up into a crouch. Sprinting forward, he lowers himself as he slams his shoulder into her stomach. She grunts from the impact, his arms wrap around her legs and lifts her up.

Oh no you don't.

She knows his next move is to slam her to the ground.

She drives her elbow down on his head, hard, causing him to loosen his grip. Taking advantage of the opening she just created, she swings both legs up, his face now encased between her thighs. Before he can react, she hurls her upper body forward, tucking in her chin as they flip. She sends him flying several feet away as she lands gracefully on the balls of her feet.

She's on top of him in an instant. Her knee digs into his sternum as her forearm presses against his throat like an iron bar. He glares up at her, the corners of his mouth slightly turning up. It's subtle, but she can see it in his eyes that he's impressed.

"You were saying?" She says cooley.

She hears cheers from the sidelines, celebrating her small victory. She doesn't look away from his face as she waits for a response.