Focus on the Weaknesses

Chapter One

      Crack! My palm struck my opponent in the sternum. He reeled backwards, wheezing in short breaths. His left calf was already bruising from the elbow-strike I had successfully delivered earlier.

       弱点に焦点を当てる、くのいち. Focus on the weakness, Kunoichi.

       Sweat splattered from me as I spun around to roundhouse kick the enemy in his exposed ribcage. I couldn't hold back the laughter as my opponent crashed to the ground, clutching his side.

       Consider the weaknesses focused on, Yamamoto-san.

       I grabbed the enemy by his collar and dragged him back to his feet. Which wasn't easy, considering he was six feet tall easy.

      "Stand up and fight, Druid," I taunted. "Unless you're too scared."

       I jumped around and threw a few joke punches to the air just for giggles.

       My opponent wiped sweat from his dark brow, and glared heavily at me. I chuckled.

       "Fury!" Druid banged a fist on a thin mirror in the wall, "Kunoichi's gone full ninja bogus on me, again!"

       I rolled my eyes, and somersaulted in between Druid's legs to crack him in the back with my knee. He whipped around, lightning glittering in his eyes for a moment. Druid slammed his hand against the mirror again.

      Oh, come on, Sebastian. Fight me. Fight me like you would if I were a man.

      "Fury! I'm serious. She's bonkers, dude! I don't want to hurt her." Druid put both hands out, to keep me back.

      "You're funny," I dropped from a pipe on the ceiling, locking him in a headlock with my thighs.

      "Babe. Come on!"Druid hissed, clutching my legs, trying to get free. He smacked the floor. As if I was gonna let him tap out. Ha! I squeezed slightly harder, and bent down to whisper in his ear.

      "In the arena, we're not dating, Druid. We're enemies. Please stop forgetting that," I released him from what I affectionately refer to as the Leg-Vice, and rolled away into a standing position. I cracked my neck and did a couple squats to keep the quads alive.

     The legs feed the wolf, girls, the legs feed the wolf.

      Druid coughed and stood, spearing me with an icy glare. He was clutching his throat. The white wife-beater he always wore in training was stuck to him with sweat, and his black hair was beginning to curl in the heat of the fight room. Sebastian Druid was a pretty man, that's no exaggeration, and I was one lucky girl to be dating a guy like him. But it also wasn't going to prevent me from beating the snot out of him when I got the chance. Druid smiled to show me the bloody, spitty mess that was his mouth. I shrugged; it wasn't my fault that I got that chance every third Thursday.

      A tall African-American man, wearing an eye-patch entered the room through the hidden door that was just to the right of the one-way mirror he had been watching us from. I grinned at him and started to unwrap my boxing hand. (To be clear, it's the left one. Righty's for the knives.)

       "Next time, Druid, try putting up a decent fight," Nicholas Fury chuckled, tossing us each a towel.

       Sebastian smeared blood and sweat across his face with the towel.