Chapter Text
It has taken Kiriko weeks to get to this point.
Constant conversations of wanting to test the last of her kind, the infamous Inti Warrior’s unique skill set. Kiriko was ignored on loop, had doors closed in her face, and squinting eyes glare in annoyance. But it is worth it. Because now that she has it, the thrill of hearing Illari’s fierce footsteps entering the training center, Kiriko never wants to go back to sparring alone.
Illari fights like her life is always on the line. She fights like she has to prove herself to a high standard.
Kiriko is familiar with that feeling all too well, only she refuses to let it show; it is so much easier to defend herself with witty remarks and vanishing away from danger at the last possible second.
Which is where they are now: training weapons forgotten and littered across the mats, circling around one another like animals stalking prey. Kiriko watches as sweat drips off Illari’s chin. She watches as her tense opponent ignores the stray baby hairs fluttering around her forehead, keeping fists up and eyes glued forward.
“It’s okay to breathe, you know,” Kiriko says, pacing in a circle with much more agility, her own footsteps non-existent. “I’ll stop if you need a break.”
Has it been over an hour since they began to wrestle? She thought they were pretty even against one another, so is this the fourth or fifth match in a row?
Kiriko does not bother to glance at a glass clock, hanging delicately off a wall to her right. She does not have the chance to even try, because Illari has answered by lunging forward.
Neither girl trips. Not when Kiriko vanishes with wide eyes as a quick dodge, and not when Illari stutters to a stop because her target is no longer in sight.
This has turned into much less of a spar, and more an aggravating game of cat and mouse. Kiriko knows that; it is written all over Illari’s face.
“Is that all you got?” Kiriko says, taunting.
Illari spins around, eyes piercing, her frown immaculately growing. “This is pushing the limits of being unfair.”
Kiriko shrugs. That is correct, but she was not going to be the one to say it. Not when it had Illari chasing her across the room. And definitely not because she liked hearing the hush of annoyance her opponent would mumble every few minutes.
“No powers,” Illari continues firmly. “Stop running away.”
“I actually didn’t run at all.”
“Stop acting like a coward.”
Kiriko scoffs. She rolls her shoulders. She cracks her knuckles. “Alright,” she begins, taking a sly step closer, hands rising offensively. “Let’s see what more you can do.”
Her head hits the mat with a slap.
There was a wave of back and forth, poking at one another, waiting to make the right move. It collapses all at once; Illari finds an opening first. Momentum takes them both tumbling down hard.
Illari grins. It disappears quickly, but it is hard to miss such an expression when she is straddling Kiriko’s hips. Hovering over top, fingers pinning down one of Kiriko’s hands, the newly formed sweat bracing on Illari’s chin threatens to splash against her.
“Was that enough for you?” the sun warrior says, breath uneven but grasp as strong as a brick wall.
It takes everything in Kiriko’s soul not to teleport away yet again. It would be so rewarding to watch Illari flop to the floor in her place. But against her own wants, she stays against the mat.
“Eh,” Kiriko mumbles. Her waist hassles between the floor and Illari’s hips to wreeth out of the hold. “I mean, I’ve seen better.”
Illari frowns, peeling away, but agrees to spar again over the weekend.