Confrontation

I take a deep breathe to calm myself and keep my character before continuing.

"You put your life in danger for what? Some little girl. Every day mum and I worry if you'll come home and this is what we get. Some little girl tries to kill you and you just shrug it off with 'She's just rebellious' or 'It'll be good practice for you' I don't think you understand how much worrying we do and you're paying more attention to some little girl!" I say with indignant rage. Normally I don't show such feelings in front of my family and I know what comes next. I know I really do. But I can't hold back. He's interrupted me too many times.

While I don't care about his life any more, I did at one point and seeing him throw it away like this does provoke some measure of displeasure in me. His life is mine to take. No one else will control his life and death. Only me. I can't have anyone else near him. No one takes my spot.

"She tried to MURDER YOU and you save her because what? She has an incredibly vague familiarity to myself. Honestly I'm a little insulted that you associate me with someone who would murder you but lets leave that aside for the moment. You don't go around letting people attack you and then not punishing them for it if you wish to stay alive." I say with a sternness in my voice that surprises them even more than my flat tone earlier.

I'm rarely emotional if ever and both of them know it. Sure I put on the act of a typical child but they both know something's up with that at this point. Still they let it be as perhaps an eccentricity of mine. But emotional outbursts are so foreign to me that it usually signifies a certain thing happening.

My mother appears to have already figured out what's going to happen because her face goes pale and she gives me some fairly subtle but certainly noticeable signs to shut up and apologize. I doubt that would do anything at this point but she's always been a bit naive like that about this man.

The man on the other hand appears to be holding back his rage. His face is slowly going red and his fists are clenched but he appears to at least not be moving forwards yet. Just as I'm thinking that though, he screams at me.

"You insolent brat. I've tried to instill the values of a proper person in you but you just refuse to listen. I knew you were a monster but leaving a little girl to die is worse than heartless. It's just cruel. And why? Just because your own life is in danger? It's the job of a soldier to protect those in need. Even if they have to risk their lives. I've taught you this yet you refuse to learn!" Spittle flies out of the unpleasant man's mouth incessantly like rain and his voice reverberates off the walls and shakes them in the process.

It's almost like I can feel his bellow all the way down to my bones. That's how loud it was. I could feel his voice, his message, traveling through my whole body and exiting out the other side. Yet despite all this I don't flinch, I don't cower. I've heard this all before. In fact this has happened before so many times. Neither of us can understand the other and this is just one more point in which we mix like oil and water.

After seeing me not react at all to his irrational explanation he finally loses it. He stands up in a posture I know well by this point. His clenched fists are brought up to near his face. His legs instantly move themselves to shoulder width apart and his face loses all expression. All the anger from before vanishes as if it was never there.

Then at a speed I can barely see let alone react to, he's suddenly right next to me in my seat and he grabs me by the arms from behind me. Immediately I feel a floating sensation as I'm lifted off my feet and thrown backwards in a sort of unfinished German suplex. In stead of hitting the floor with my head and a massive BANG! I end up being thrown into the wall behind us.

Luckily I was also trained for this sort of thing with how many times this has happened and I immediately right myself mid-air before landing feet first on the wall and kicking off it. Obviously that doesn't give me enough momentum to charge at the man but it stops my current momentum and allows me to jump from the wall and roll forwards within several steps of the man.

By the time I exited from my own roll I had already assumed a position similar to his own. My breathing had slowed and my focus had become razor sharp. My eyes that usually have either a child-like innocence or a lethargic lack of motivation were suddenly so cold you would think me the first android.

We were outside of each other's striking range but it wouldn't stay that way for long and we both knew it. So did mother apparently because her face went from being just a bit pale to a ghostly white. Before she passed out however she shook her head and walked up to the man in front of me shouting desperately.

"Stop this both of you! This is crazy. No family should fight with fists in their own home!" Her shouts were clearly getting more desperate as she continued though we both knew she would eventually back down after a little persuading so she wasn't really as desperate as she seemed. That or she was but just didn't have the courage to actually act on her desperation.

Sure enough, when she reached that man, they argued a little in hushed whispers I couldn't hear. Eventually though mum just left the room and went up to bed looking like she was in utter despair, as per usual.

Once she did, it was almost like a starting signal or a bell in an arena. Not that this match was in any way fair or controlled. This might not be a fight to the death or anything like that but it certainly had just as few rules.

I could kick him in the balls or claw his eyes out and there would be no referee to stop me. Unfortunately that went both ways and while he refrained from causing me permanent harm most of the time it's not impossible for me to lose a tooth, get a nasty scar or two or it's even possible for me to break an arm or leg.

All such incidents have happened before. The scars are particularly prevalent as I know I have a number of scars across my legs, arms and torso though nothing in the face or chest at least. Likely a perceived kindness on that man's part.

By the fact that I have so many scars alone I imagine it's easy for any third party observer to tell how the fights go given that my scars are not mirrored on his own arms, legs and torso. Not to say that he doesn't have any scars, the one across the middle of his face being a good example. However the scars he has are almost all caused by someone other than me.

Essentially though I called this a fight without rules that was just a softened description on my part. In reality this is closer to a beating in the name of training. EVERY SINGLE TIME. Every single time he brings up morals or people my age or something similar this happens.

Which is perhaps the reason for the amount of scars I possess. It would be nigh impossible to cause so many in just one beating after all. So he has diligently accumulated scars across all the parts of my body invisible to the naked eye. A knife wound there, a scratch wound from claw-like nails, a pattern of scars in the shape of a boot and even a hole in my side that healed up quite some time ago.

That last one was likely the most painful of the lot so I do hope I don't have to go through that again. That is my last wistful and frivolous thought as my mind whirs into action. The reason for my sudden focus is the movement of the man's front right foot. A single half-step forwards is all the starting signal we need.

Immediately afterwards I feel a rush of wind and before I can think I feel a hard impact on the palm of one of my hands. Less than a second after the impact I feel another rush of air this time right next to my face as his fist is deflected past the side of my head. Only missing by the closest of margins. Deliberately of course.

Another rush of wind resounds throughout the room though this time I feel it on my hands. They rush through the air at speeds my whole body would obviously not be able to reproduce. Yet my whole body is propelling it forwards all the same.

My hips turn, my feet push powerfully on the ground and my fist clenches hard in anticipation of impact. Annoyingly however no such impact comes as my fist is met only with an onslaught of yet more rushing air.

The man's head is a few inches away from the position it once was and in it's place was my fist. This reality makes me immediately feel my adrenaline pumping for this is not a good situation to be in. Yet one that is familiar to me.

Sure enough in the less than a second that it takes for me to realize my blunder, the hand that is not currently being held right next to my head grabs my dodged fist and wraps it around his shoulder. While his hands are at work his feet are not slacking off either.

His foot moves forward and behind one of my own attempting to break my balance. Realizing my precarious situation I decide to try and fight back before I'm thrown rather than after and swiftly move the leg currently behind my own to his front and place his head in my only free arm.

I manage to cut off his airway and stop his breathing. The blood rushes to his face attempting to pump it with the oxygen that has been cut off thanks to my own intervention. I can see the life and more importantly consciousness fading from the man's eyes and it gives me a rush of excitement unlike any I've experienced before. My own skin becomes flushed but I continue to keep myself focused on any new movement from the man.

Unfortunately my vigilance is warranted and apparently useless. As he moves his foot once behind my own upwards and kicks me in the shins. The pain radiates through my whole body and for just a moment I think they're broken. Not only does this snap me out of my excited state but the sudden change in situation also causes me to freeze in shock for just a moment.

This is enough for the man to slip from my headlock and grab both my arms around his shoulders. The expected outcome follows as I'm thrown across the room and away from the man. I lose my balance but do not fall. I stagger a few paces and look up only to see a fist coming towards me. Unfortunately I was unprepared and it hits me straight in the jaw and rattles my brain.

The world around me blurs and my mind becomes fuzzy. I can no longer feel the rush of air as another fist comes my way but my instincts warn me about something coming and so I instinctively roll to the side.

This sends my head spinning this time and I have trouble maintaining my balance. He's not one to allow such weakness in front of him to go unanswered and swiftly delivers a kick to my thigh. This causes my back leg to go further back than it should be and ruins my balance even more.

Suddenly I feel the lack of air coming to my lungs and try to take stock of the blurry and now somewhat fading situation around me. My head is locked not unlike what I did to him earlier. I however am already rattled and off balance so my struggle is significantly lighter and far less successful as I essentially flail around in the man's arms.

Eventually the world goes dark around me just as a pain radiates from my stomach and I spit up some bile. That is the last taste in my mouth and the last thing I remember before I blacked out. Except for the man's satisfied grin of course.