Cote: Elite in Action

The Art of Combat

Time passed quickly, and with it, the number of challenges presented to me increased. Today, I had received multiple challenges, although most of them were small bets. Since these were quick and simple events, I accepted many of them: rock, paper, scissors; arm wrestling; poker; darts... those types of activities that didn't require much time or preparation.

However, what really caught my attention was an interesting challenge that promised a significant amount of points. The person who challenged me was none other than Horikita Manabu, the former student council president. My heart raced at the sight of his name. Karate? Of course, I accepted without hesitation. Now, I found myself facing him in the karate club, with a few spectators around. You don't get the chance to see a former president in action every day, right? Nagumo, Horikita's sister, and other curious students were also there.

"Are you good at karate, Osawa?" Horikita asked while stretching his muscles, exuding confidence.

"Very well, actually. And you?" I replied with a challenging smile.

"It's one of my favorites," he said, a spark of excitement in his eyes.

"So, how will the winner be decided?" I inquired, mentally preparing myself for the fight.

"It'll be simple; one of us will have to admit defeat," he said calmly. I liked that approach. Often, karate is evaluated by points and techniques, but here we were, ready for a more direct combat—modern karate, or full-contact. With grappling and takedown moves, the spectacle promised to be intense.

The tension in the air was palpable, and although I didn't know exactly what type of karate Horikita practiced, I had to stay alert.

"Alright, let it be so," I said as we positioned ourselves opposite each other, ready for the confrontation. The murmurs of the spectators faded into an expectant silence, all eyes fixed on us.

Tachibana-senpai stepped between us, and the atmosphere became electric. I knew I had to concentrate, keep my mind clear, and avoid any distractions. Karate was as much mental as it was physical, and in this moment, there was no room for nerves.

"Ready!" Tachibana-senpai shouted, raising his hand.

At the sound of the signal, adrenaline coursed through my veins. Everything became a blur around me, and in that instant, all that mattered was the duel in front of me.

...

The signal from Tachibana-senpai resonated in the air like a drum, and the dojo fell into deep silence. All eyes were fixed on us, expectant. The atmosphere was charged with energy, as if the room itself was holding its breath.

We charged forward, the sound of our footsteps echoing on the tatami. Horikita was the first to attack, throwing a quick straight punch, a movement he had perfected through hours of practice. Despite his determination, I had anticipated his strike. With an agile slide, I sidestepped, letting his fist brush past my face. In an instant, I responded with a side kick that slammed into his side. The force of my attack made him stagger, but he managed to maintain his balance, his gaze reflecting the fury of a warrior unwilling to give up easily.

"That was good!" he exclaimed, his voice resonating with determination as he regained his stance. There was a spark of competitiveness in his eyes that only increased my interest in the fight.

Horikita adjusted his guard, his body becoming tense, like a bowstring ready to be released. This time, he attempted a quick spin to throw a hook from the left. With a precise movement, I stepped back, but I couldn't avoid his punch coming dangerously close. I managed to block his attack, but the impact resonated in my arms, reminding me that this was a worthy opponent.

"Impressive technique," I said, admiring his skill as we circled each other again, looking for opportunities.

Kicks and punches flew between us, creating a frantic rhythm. Horikita was a master at anticipating moves, but I had speed and agility that made it difficult for him to predict my actions. With each exchange, I could feel the intensity rising; sweat began to trickle down our foreheads, but both of us refused to give up.

When Horikita launched a quick combination, a jab followed by a cross, I responded with a swift move, dodging the jab and countering with a hook to his side. The sound of impact echoed through the room, and I saw his expression change—a mix of surprise and challenge. Horikita stepped back, but he wasn't out; with determination, he regained his stance and prepared for a new attack.

"Don't underestimate me, Osawa!" he shouted, launching a front kick that I barely managed to evade. In a moment of intuition, I pivoted on my heels and countered with a low kick, targeting his leg. Horikita was forced to take a step back to avoid the blow, but that gave him space to execute a jump that ended in a side kick.

The dojo was silent; only the sound of our bodies moving and colliding filled the air. Horikita, with his polished technique, displayed impressive mastery. It was evident he had been training hard, and while I was at the top in terms of speed, he never backed down. Every strike he threw was filled with strength and technique, and the way he moved his body demonstrated his dedication.

The fight continued, and both of us were exhausted, but the adrenaline kept flowing. Horikita threw an uppercut, and although I managed to block it, the force behind his strike was notable. It pushed me back a couple of steps, but I wasn't willing to yield. Seeing the determined look on his face, I knew I had to step up the intensity.

With a series of quick movements, I decided it was time to end the fight. I moved forward, feigning a high attack. When he raised his arms to block, I quickly lowered and trapped him in a grip, using his momentum to spin him and apply a lock on his arm. The room erupted in murmurs as the spectators leaned forward, captivated by the intensity of the moment.

Horikita struggled to free himself, his muscles tensing as he tried to resist. His expression was one of pure concentration, but deep down, he knew he was trapped. The lock I had applied was effective; I could feel his energy waning.

"Yield!" I exclaimed, maintaining pressure on his arm, noticing how he was struggling to escape. Despite his strong character, the pain was forcing him to accept defeat.

The murmurs ceased, and in one last effort, Horikita tried to turn to free himself, but the pain in his arm was too much.

"Alright, I give up," he said, his voice strained but clear. Frustration mixed with respect in his gaze, and for a moment, the dojo fell silent.

I released the hold and stepped back, allowing him to catch his breath. Horikita slowly got up, brushing off the dust and breathing heavily. The room erupted in applause, the sound ringing in my ears as the students commented on the intensity of the fight.

"Incredible!" I heard Nazuna shout from a corner, while Horikita's sister watched with a mix of surprise and doubt.

Horikita shot me a look that spoke more than a thousand words: respect and admiration.

"Good job, Osawa. This time you won," he said, extending his hand in a sign of respect, a smile contradicting the fatigue on his face.

"Thank you, Horikita. You did very well," I replied, taking his hand firmly. The handshake was a symbol of mutual respect.

As the applause filled the dojo, I knew this confrontation had not only been a victory for me but also an affirmation that we were both worthy opponents. Horikita might have lost today, but I could see in his eyes that he would come back stronger. And that was what made the fight exciting.

With a casual gesture, I acknowledged the spectators and thought about how thrilling it would be to receive new challenges. I hoped many more would dare to challenge me, eager to enjoy the competition and the adrenaline that each confrontation brought.