Ultrasmash Taiga 4

Taiga gives it his best shot. Hanafuda wasn't exactly an 'enemy' in his mind, but he easily recognized the man from Huangzhou during his little incident with Marceline. Childish as it was, he wanted revenge. The heightened state of emotion he was in due to the process of being turned into a thrall didn't help things one bit.

It was entirely selfish of him to request such a battle. Against the word of Ipos - and the will of his father. He wasn't ordered not to fight... but he knew damn well he was going to an earful for this. Skirting around the rules and sneaking out of his house --

It was a matter of time before he got burned on one of his little skirmishes.

He battles Hanafuda with everything he's got. Wind warping around his blade and enhancing it's edge, bringing the samurai to his top speed. He assails Hanafuda, his weapon becoming a white blur as he effortlessly moves between attacks. They dance atop fire, searing the battlefield as their magic lights up the forest. The trees bend and quake under intense air pressure - the grass and ice beneath their feet erupting into a divine flame. The dome quickly becomes a furnace, Taiga's entire body heating up as they continue to cook.

He gave it his best shot. Against someone his age, this should've worked.

But Hanafuda had experience. Hanafuda had power. Hanafuda had many a thing Taiga lacked. Common sense, too, probably. But Taiga --- Taiga had honor! Duty! Surely, through the weight of his ideals alone, he could carry this battle. Such a notion is swatted aside and tossed into the furnace of zealous flames.

Spirits cling to him, his small frame overwhelmed and pressed to the ground. He was judged by the fire. Deemed... unworthy of victory. "GRRRRR---!" He struggles, sheathing his blade once more. He scrapes against the earth, desperately trying to force himself back up. His legs are seared, his pants falling apart. MOM MADE THOSE FUCKING PANTS.

His eyes are pitch black. Teeth grit. Hands trembling in pain as they attempt to draw his blade once more. ...His own technique, the one used to obliterate Eshu. Wind swirls. The flames pick up, reaching to the boys neck as his muscles strain, every bit of his body telling him to give in.

He wouldn't have a chance to show his technique. Wouldn't have a chance to prove that he could fight as well as the adults. Pain overtakes him, his world becoming just as black as those eyes. Taiga collaspes, his body unceremoniously flopping forward and sizzling on the ground.

Roasted.
(Taiga Voss)