She went to her family, with whom she had severed nearly all ties, and got on her hands and knees—genuflecting, not crawling—and bowed her head all the way to the floor as she begged them to have her chosen as a competitor. With the next Zodiac War not due for another twelve years, she viewed this as her last chance.
Then, when she saw him, looking as if he hadn’t aged a day, on the observation deck at the battle’s start, she felt so elated she nearly wanted to dance—and she wasn’t even drunk.
And that idiot—that ox of a man—he doesn’t remember me at all! It’s infuriating!
Now he had challenged her to a duel. Without warning, the enraged woman threw herself at him. To launch a surprise attack without naming herself was a breach of propriety that—to quote Ox when he rescued her long ago—would bring disgrace on all fighters. But she had no choice.
She hadn’t the time to say anything—not if she was going to shield Ox from Rabbit’s twin blades, which flew at Ox from behind.
When she pushed Ox aside, she unavoidably put herself in his previous position—right in the path of Rabbit’s blades.
Ahh, damn it, she thought. Just when I’d finally made it. Just when the master had finally challenged me to a fight. I couldn’t get anything to go right in the end.
To say she had shielded Ox wasn’t strictly true—that would imply he couldn’t have handled the attack on his own. Rabbit must have used some aspect of his necromanticist’s power to make a puppet of himself, and if he were one of those walking dead, his strength and speed would have been lessened. And yet despite her lesser expertise, the woman still intervened—but why?
Because I decided to.
The twin blades, Shiro-usagi and Sangatsu-usagi, plunged into the softness of her stomach.
Rabbit’s severed arms had jumped from the ground to attack. Being just arms, they hadn’t the best aim and missed vital points. But the wound was deep—so very deep. Pain didn’t even begin to describe what she felt. If another attack came, she couldn’t have defended herself.
She closed her eyes, preparing herself for the end, when Ox shouted. For the first time, she heard anger and dismay in his voice.
“Tiger!” he yelled, as he threw himself at Rabbit’s eight separate pieces, leaping from one to the other if he were the rabbit, striking each one down.
Without concern for future consequences, Ox carved apart Rabbit’s corpse. He knew that the more pieces he created, the more enemies he would later have to face, but getting out of this situation—and getting out now—was his only concern.
He’d saved the arms for last, chopping them to little bits, scattering them to the ground along with the long-bladed hatchets they once held. He grabbed Tiger by the nape of her neck and fled from the multitude of Rabbit parts. He pulled her up and onto his back, then ran blindly and as fast as he could.
Here I am being carried by him again, Tiger thought.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let you die!” he shouted, trying to keep her conscious, his voice uncharacteristically loud. “No one has ever risked their life to save me—I still have to repay my debt.”
What a load of crap, Tiger thought. I’m the one who owes you for saving my life.
She said, “Let me down.”
Ox drew in his breath.
“It’s okay,” she said, forcing determination into her voice, even if part of her wanted to just let him keep carrying her. “If you keep bouncing me about, it’ll only worsen my injuries.”
“Then we’d better stop the blood flow first. We’ve bought enough distance for now—he shouldn’t catch up with us so quickly.”
Ox did what he was told. He didn’t like the idea of stopping—especially when he imagined what was coming after them—but staunching her bleeding was better done now. He held her face up in his arms, then gently laid her on the ground.
Even to one with his skills, stopping a gut wound from bleeding was not going to be easy. Given the wound’s placement, a tourniquet wasn’t an option. He’d need to find an abandoned hospital and search for medical supplies—but did they have the time?
We don’t, Tiger thought. We just don’t.
“Don’t give up,” Ox said. “If you die here, then what becomes of our duel?”
You’re just saying that because you’re too good to have ever been wounded like this. You don’t know what it’s like. Even if by some miracle you managed to stitch me up in time … I wouldn’t be able to fight. We’ll never have that duel. And so …
“Listen, O Fighter of the Ox,” Tiger said, still on her back. “I don’t need that duel anymore. Just... do me a favor.”
“A favor?”
“It’s more of a plea. I want you to do one thing for me.”
The blood felt like it would never stop.
She growled softly.
If I were just some normal girl, I might ask him for a kiss. But that’s not who I am.
“Please,” she said, “kill me.”
Ox looked at her in disbelief.
She continued, “If I die from losing too much blood... that’ll mean that Rabbit bastard will have killed me, won’t it? And I’ll become one of those walking dead, won’t I? I don’t know much about that necromanticist and all that stuff... but I don’t want any of it. I don’t want to fight you badly enough to die for it.”
Just having you challenge me to a fight made all my battles worthwhile.
“Before that happens, I want you to kill me,” she said. “Didn’t you tell me earlier that you’d kill me so that I’d never become one of those wretched zombies? So, Natural-Born Slayer, just kill me. Give me a fine death.”
Ox looked down at her for a short time, then said. “All right. But we’re going to have that duel. You will lose to me. Now, follow the custom—declare yourself.”
Can’t you see it’s hard for me to speak? Here I am on the edge of death, and you’re still going to be this strict? Except … no, you’re just doing what’s right.
It’s a better ending than I deserve—a good-for-nothing like me dying in a duel against a master. At some point along the way, I made a mess of my life, but at least it’ll have a proper ending.
“One more thing,” Ox said, pointing his saber down at Tiger. “Why do you have a grudge against me? We have met before, on some battlefield, haven’t we?”
At first, Tiger said nothing, then she pointed her claws at him. “I’ve got no grudge. We’ve never met before. I just hate dreary men like you.” She growled.
“I am Tora, the Fighter of the Tiger. I kill with drunken power.”
“I am Ushii, the Fighter of the Ox. I just kill.”
It was over in an instant. The master did the right thing and killed the dying woman.
She was Tora, the Fighter of the Tiger, drunkard and wielder of the Drunken Fist—and in the history of the Zodiac War, she was the first to lose and still get her wish.
Ox vs. Tiger
End of the 10th battle