Their swords clash once more, sparking with the impact for a brief moment before they part. Youmu's movements are definitely beyond the speed of humans, yet somehow he is able to keep up. If someone were to watch their duel, he would only see an odd dance of blurs and sparks. This is a sport that is only enjoyable to the players themselves.

"Not a fluke," whispers the half-ghost. "Definitely not a fluke. I've never seen such sword skills since my last duel with my Master. You really are something, Vincent."

Vincent pauses to catch his breath. He can't take much more of this. Up until now, he hasn't found a single opening. Youmu seems to be fighting seriously this time.

"You are... damn good yourself."

The half-ghost smiles at him. Then, she sheathes her swords and closes her eyes to concentrate. He recognizes that form immediately, and he prepares a defensive stance. After a few seconds of silence, she rushes forward and draws both swords, swinging them with inhuman speed and accuracy. He blocks the attacks with his own weapon, but she manages to graze his side with the last swing.

"108 strikes," he says as his shoulder drips blood.

"And I still haven't hit you," says Youmu.

Vincent glances at her sword. It bears no bloodstain. Was he cut by the air pocket around her sword?

"But this time, you won't be so lucky, Vincent. I've prepared something special. Be thankful that you'll witness this original technique."

Youmu sheathes her short blade and wields the longer one with both hands. Vincent tightens his grip on his own weapon.

"I was saving this for Master," she whispers.

In the next instant, she is already in front of him. A single flash of light fills the room as their swords spark with the impact. Then, as the light dims, the two stand beside each other, frozen in time. Something falls to the ground with a clang.

"It's over," says Vincent.

He turns to his right. His sword lies several yards away. He starts to fall unceremoniously.

"255 strikes is just... too much," he whispers.

Youmu gasps in surprise. Before he hits the ground, the half-ghost catches him in her arms. She lowers her sword and checks him carefully for injuries.

"A-are you alright?" she cries. "Oh no! W-was it too much? Hey! Can you hear me?"

He looks up to see the her face. That worried expression really doesn't fit her.

"Just tired. Looks like that was my limit, ha ha.."

"I-I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry!"

...

Vincent opens his eyes. The half-ghost is watching over him patiently. The soft sensation he feels from behind his head seems to be her lap.

"Welcome back," she whispers.

He manages a small smile.

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