Chapter 3 - Chance Meeting

----------------KYAO'S PERSPECTIVE----------------

It has been a complete two months since the humiliating encounter with that arrogant brat, Yang Weimin. His sheer skill and dominance during our last clash were undeniable, serving as a painful reminder of my own shortcomings. This bitter defeat has acted as a catalyst, igniting a fierce determination within me to intensify my training regimen over the past two months. The thought of facing him again fills me with dread as I cannot tolerate another loss. However, just when I was lost in deep contemplation, an unforeseen punch caught me off guard, striking my face without warning!

"Kyao! Keep your Damned guard up! I will not have my disciple in such a piss poor condition!" While observing my master, Nakata Kiyumi, I couldn't help but notice her intimidating presence. Towering at an imposing six feet tall, she exuded a physical presence that commands immediate respect. Her muscles, honed through years of rigorous Muay Thai training, ripple beneath her skin, evident even when she stood at rest. Her face was a mask of weathered determination, etched with the lines of countless battles. Sharp, intelligent eyes, the color of polished obsidian, she always scanned the world with a predatory glint. Her jawline was strong and square, set beneath a tightly controlled frown that speaks volumes about her relentless discipline.

Crowning it all was a thick braid of iron-gray hair, pulled back in a no-nonsense style that left no room for distractions. As I assumed my combat stance and made an attempt to outmaneuver her with a feigned punch followed by an elbow strike, her swift reflexes effortlessly thwarted my efforts. With a precision that left me reeling, she countered my move with a well-placed knee strike to my ribs, causing me to stumble back in pain as my vision temporarily blurred. Amidst the disorientation of that momentary setback, I faintly discerned the commanding tone of my master's voice piercing through the haze.

"Too direct you little shit! You need to mask your movements better and not be so obvious. No wonder that kid beat the shit out of you." My master proceeded with a brutal kick directly to my face, causing me to be violently propelled into the unforgiving wall. This harsh reality of enduring physical torment is the essence of my existence, as I strive to attain strength under her merciless guidance. The grueling training persisted relentlessly, each passing moment feeling like an excruciating eternity, despite only being another hour of agony. Despite being engulfed in searing pain and relentless soreness, I have grown accustomed to such suffering as it has become a familiar companion in my arduous journey towards strength.

Following our mundane training session, the Master graciously handed me a paltry sum of Ryo and condescendingly instructed me to embark on the tedious task of procuring this week's groceries from the inferior downtown market. Despite the inconvenience of enduring a 20-minute walk each way, this menial errand had become an insufferable routine for me. Every monotonous Monday, I would be begrudgingly dispatched with funds to purchase provisions. As I wearily arrived at the lackluster grocery store, my ears were assaulted by a tiresome voice screeching my name in an expectedly mundane manner.

"Hey Kyao!" I sharply pivoted, utterly taken aback by the sheer audacity of an individual using my first name so nonchalantly. Much to my disappointment, the culprit turned out to be none other than Yang Weimin, known for his persistent penchant for causing chaos, his disheveled blonde locks wildly flying about as he hurriedly approached me, his intense gaze cutting through me with a completely unjustified air of superiority. What on earth could be driving him to disrupt my much-needed tranquility and invade my personal space in such a brazen manner?

----------------YANG'S PERSPECTIVE----------------

I am appreciative of the break today! Over the course of the previous two months, I have been engaging in intense and rigorous training sessions. The enigmatic figure of Umeda Kyao has left a lasting impression on me with her mysterious aura! Unfortunately, I have not crossed paths with her in the past two months due to my mentor's relentless focus on honing my skills and mastering new techniques. One such technique recently imparted to me is known as the Inner Eye, a valuable tool that enables me to closely monitor my mentor during our training sessions. However, it is crucial to note that despite this newfound ability, I remain aware that employing it in combat against my mentor would still be futile.

The development of my Seikūken technique is said to be progressing satisfactorily, although it was not without its challenges when my mentor attempted to impart his knowledge upon me. It must be noted that my mentor's understanding of the technique was rather limited due to his specialization in the Dou type, which is not ideally suited for the intricacies of the Seikūken that are tailored more towards the Sei types, a detail he seemed to overlook when assessing my aptitude. In an unexpected turn of events, my mentor dispatched me on an errand to procure provisions from the nearby market, offering a fleeting reprieve from our usual training regimen. Upon arrival at the bustling marketplace, I chanced upon a familiar acquaintance – Umeda Kyao, prompting a genuine smile to grace my features as I hastened towards her with eager anticipation, calling out her name amidst the vibrant backdrop of Japan's cultural tapestry. In adherence to local customs, I opted to address her by her esteemed family name as our reunion unfolded.

"Hey Kyao!" As I observed her swift pivot on her heel upon the mention of her name, my voice involuntarily escalated to a shout. The way her short black hair swayed in synchrony with her face, and the piercing gaze of her brown eyes fixated on me exuded an air of subtle annoyance and unimpressed demeanor. In that moment, a tinge of doubt crept into my mind - had I mistakenly uttered her name? Bracing myself, I halted in my tracks before her, mustering a smile as she poised to articulate words that hung in the tense air between us.

"Yang, why are you calling me by my first name? And what the hell are you doing here?" As I paused and locked eyes with her, she inquired of me. It took a brief moment for her words to penetrate my consciousness before I straightened up and let out a light chuckle in response to her query.

"Oh uh, sorry. Never been good with names. And Yang is my first name. Weimin is my last name. Sorry about that Umeda."" I chuckled ever so slightly while nonchalantly rubbing the back of my head. However, Umeda maintained an air of unimpressed stoicism, which compelled me to make a concerted effort to sustain the flow of conversation.

"So Umeda, have you learned anything new in these last two months? My master taught me some cool techniques!" Upon careful observation, it was apparent that Umeda's eye exhibited a subtle twitch, prompting a sense of concern to arise within me. However, aside from this minor physical reaction, her demeanor remained devoid of any overt indications or discernible responses, as she merely directed her gaze towards me without displaying any further notable emotions or expressions.

"Of course I have Weimin. Martial artists always must improve. The fact you even ask is somewhat disrespectful." As she was just about to utter a word, I hastily interjected with an apology. Yet, as we ventured into the bustling market scene, my martial arts training suddenly sprang into action, enabling me to skillfully intercept a soaring milk carton mid-air.

I noticed a commotion and shifted my gaze to pinpoint the origin of the disturbance, only to find four figures gathered closely around the counter. Despite their formal attire, their visible tattoos subtly suggested questionable affiliations. The presence of such markings quickly triggered suspicions within my mind, indicating potential connections to the infamous Yakuza syndicate. The ambiguity surrounding their exact faction sent shivers down my spine, intensifying the unease that enveloped the room. As I turned my head to look at Umeda, Umeda's noticeable absence heightened the already palpable tension in the atmosphere.

Casting a wary glance back at the notorious Yakuza group, my attention was drawn to the figure of Umeda striding purposefully towards them, signaling an undoubtedly precarious scenario unfolding. Reacting swiftly, I leaped into action, closing the distance with urgency to intercept her in a race against time, all in a frantic attempt to avert an imminent uproar. Yet, despite my best efforts and frantic pace, her words spilled forth before I could even engage her directly, rendering my attempts futile in the face of her determined resolve.

"You four, people are trying to buy stuff from his market, leave now." Upon her arrival, she spoke in a manner that was both simple and direct, catching the attention of all four Yakuza members present. As their gaze shifted towards her, I quickly caught up to witness the unfolding scene. A tense silence enveloped us as we locked eyes with the Yakuza members, until one of them couldn't help but break into laughter, shattering the tension momentarily.

"Buzz off kid, this has got nothing to do with you." However, it is worth noting that his initial approach was met with a complete lack of interest from Umeda, which ultimately led to a shift in his demeanor and triggered an outburst of anger. In a futile attempt to assert control, he made a reckless move towards her, only to find himself overpowered as she swiftly dislocated his wrist and delivered a powerful punch while they were situated behind the counter of the market.

The other three Yakuza instantly flinched and barely dodged their comrade soaring behind them as the second Yakuza attempted to attack Umeda, however I intercepted him and threw him over my shoulder, his body rather harshly hitting the ground as I may have put a little too much force behind it. 

I turned around and side stepped a punch from the third Yakuza member, using my hand to chop the back of his neck, which seemed to cause his body to go limp as he fell on top of his downed friend. And upon looking back at the fourth member Umeda stood over his unconscious body, his nose seemingly broken from what Yang can only assume was a punch.

"Are you ok?" Approaching the older man at the counter, I observed his nonchalant nod, which lacked any hint of warmth or acknowledgment. Simultaneously, Umeda's sudden and aggressive approach towards me exuded a palpable sense of anger and frustration, almost as if she was ready to unleash her displeasure upon me.

"I didn't need your help Weimin. Why did you defeat them?" With evident rage in her voice, she sharply questioned me, seemingly unappreciative of my attempts to assist. However, my intentions were solely aimed at lending a helping hand in the situation.

"Excuse me, children. Thank you for your kindness, but more of those thugs will be coming around here. They work for a small-time Yakuza gang named the Black Dragons. They are one of several small Yakuza gangs which work for the Eastern Meteor Yakuza. But you two should get out of here while you can, before those four wake up!" The clerk's words echoed in the bustling market as Umeda swiftly made her exit with a determined air. Hastily, I followed suit, reaching out to stop her by grasping her arm. In a sudden motion, she forcefully pulled away and aimed a punch in my direction, only to have it deftly blocked by my quick reflexes. A tense silence enveloped us as our eyes locked in a fierce gaze, each one silently challenging the other.

"What is your deal Umeda, and were are you going? Don't tell me you want to try and fight the Black Dragons all by yourself?" I would inquire of her intentions regarding whether that daring plan was truly her strategy, as confronting a gang single-handedly would undoubtedly be an exceedingly perilous and foolhardy decision.

"I can take care of myself, Umeda. What I do is my own business. Stop being so nosey." As she menacingly launched another attack towards me, I swiftly anticipated her move and skillfully intercepted her punch, effortlessly overpowering her by twisting her arm behind her back. Despite her futile attempts to resist, it was evident that she was no match for my superior strength due to what I could tell her being in a weakened state, unable to break free from my firm grasp. It became glaringly obvious that venturing into this confrontation solo would be an incredibly reckless and foolhardy decision.

"In your condition fighting them alone would only get you hurt. If you are so insistent on fighting them then I will join you." Upon releasing my grip on her, she cunningly seized the opportunity to deliver a ruthless sucker punch directly to my unsuspecting face. The impact left me reeling in pain as I gingerly massaged my throbbing cheek. Her gaze bore into me with an intensely scrutinizing expression, almost as though she were questioning my very existence in utter disbelief.

"You want to help me? Why?" Her inquiry caught me off guard as I gazed back at her, a sense of bewilderment evident on my face. How could one possibly question the innate human desire to offer assistance? Isn't extending a helping hand to others a fundamental aspect of human nature, ingrained in our societal fabric?

"Because I want to. It would be too dangerous for you to go alone." I would straightforwardly state that her gaze towards me was rather inscrutable, leaving me unable to fully comprehend her intentions. Subsequently, she proceeded to come closer and casually flicked me on the forehead, perhaps indicating a sense of playfulness or jest in her actions.

"Fine, but don't slow me down." She made a gesture indicating that I should follow her, emphasizing the urgency of our need to allocate time for the crucial task of gathering essential information on this notorious gang.