Sparring with the Master

Naia could feel it. The burn began to build up in her lungs, squeezing them, already making her chest heave and complain. The older, wilder Naia we know today might've relished this feeling, but back then, all she could think about was how quickly her body began to ache, and how much energy she was wasting. The pool was deep, and no matter how much she swung and kicked and flailed at her target, she couldn't land one damn hit.

"Come on." A voice rang in her mind, speaking directly through telepathy, as her opponent dodged and parried everything she threw at him. "Getting hasty already? Just hit me once and it's over. One hit!" A Shadow Claw aimed at his throat missed wide -- he leaned back with perfect timing, feeling the water brushing his neck. Even at his age, well past his prime, his reflexes and experience sparring with Naia gave him a clear advantage. He kept his one good eye on her, taunting the desperate Zoroark. "Not even a scratch yet. You're telegraphing your attacks too much. Focus already! Ignore the burn, lock in!"

The Zoroark snarled, bubbles leaking from her nostrils. Hard to be less predictable when the water slows everything down. Yet, she tried anyway. She slowly circled around the grizzled Lucario and took careful steps towards him; he stayed totally still. Even as she approached just inches away from him, he was calm, patient, a sharp contrast to the shuddering, heaving Zoroark who couldn't even hold back her air-starved grunts by now. If there was a way to stay focused in such a situation, she really could've used it right now. The slow approach felt like self-sabotage to her, almost like the Lucario had goaded her into worsening the discomfort in her lungs. By the time she realized she was running on fumes, she'd gotten a little too hasty.

The tells were there. Clenched teeth, a strained grunt, feetpaws pressed hard against the pool floor. Naia took a low stance and aimed at his gut with a Night Slash. Her sharp claws flew so fast it was hard to even see them slice through the water with ease... And yet water was all they slashed. The Lucario had already begun to dodge her the instant he saw her muscles tense up, and he had seen enough.

A fierce pair of punches to her jaw and her side in the time it took her to notice him bursting towards her, and a lightning-fast knee right in the gut before she even felt those punches. Her lungs caved in and forcefully pushed all the air out of them, and the void was immediately filled with liquid that burned on its way in. Naia took a deep, gurgly gasp and curled up as her pupils turned into tiny dots. She couldn't even try to surface; the hits were so disorienting she couldn't focus enough to swim. The Zoroark coughed hard and gasped, in a constant, aching pattern, her paws pressed against her bruised stomach.

"...You still have a lot to learn," the Lucario coldly reminded her, watching it all happen in front of him with barely a twitch on his chest. Just to drive the point home, he sighed, letting a flurry of bubbles out through his nostrils, before continuing his telepathic lecture. "But you got a lot of strength in there. Don't waste it. Stop being so hasty and learn when to slow down. But most of all..."

The Lucario grabbed Naia by the mane and pressed her against the pool floor, feeling her shudder and choke on the water. Her pupils were widening, and she kept her gaze on her opponent while she hyperventilated, her maw -- and her throat -- opened wide for the cold liquid to pass through.

"...You have to stop being so damn predictable."

The Zoroark showed a smirk.

In the time it took for the Lucario to raise his eyebrow, she had opened her maw even wider, and lunged towards him. He had enough time to grip her arms, but not to prevent her legs from locking around his waist -- or, more crucially, for her fangs to dig into his shoulder. The Lucario flinched and let out a pained, bubbly growl, but it quickly became clear Naia hadn't bitten him very hard; if she did, she might've drawn blood.

She just proved she couldn't be underestimated.

"...You know that doesn't count," he complained, still. "Th-The fight was over...!"

Maybe the master had been the one learning a lesson for once: against Naia, the fight isn't over until she's knocked out and limp. And having proven her point, the Zoroark relaxed her maw and slumped back onto the floor, shivering and tensing up as the lack of oxygen took its toll. The Lucario would let her writhe like this for only a little longer, watching her pupils dilate even further until she passed out, still displaying reflexive breaths and kicks, until he carried her back out of the pool.

After all that, the Zoroark was pretty pleased with herself, having made progress for the first time in ages, though she got a little more waterlogged than she would've liked. She was still coughing and clearing her throat even as she bandaged her master's scratched-up shoulder. "...I say it counts."

The Lucario was so over this. His rugged voice was quieter than usual, and he rolled his eyes and sighed. "...Like I said, you lost the fight, and if there were real stakes involved--" He insisted, tightening the bandage around Naia's waist-- "You'd be a seafloor decoration anyway. I'd rather you won upfront instead of trusting cheap tricks." He took an ice pack and pressed it against her cheek; she held it there too, her hand on top of his own, minding the spike.

"Hey, I'm a Dark-type," Naia helpfully reminded him, wincing as she scooted closer to him. "I fucking win with cheap tricks. If it works, it works!" For whatever reason, she tilted her head towards him and let out a little chuckle. "And like, c'mon, haha... Don't pretend you don't like that shit. I saw the face you made."

The master averted his gaze, for once. He took another ice pack... and laid it against his crotch, hiding a little twitch on his spade, and causing Naia to let out a noisy belly-laugh, potent enough to make her sore and achy all over again.

He did not say a word, opting to leave himself wide open for a barrage of flirting and teasing from the tired Zoroark. He might've mumbled something about helping each other's muscles relax, an unsubtle offer to unwind after one of their usual, brutal sparring sessions. They were bound to be even more sore by the time they were done "unwinding", but it was, at least, another useful way to get rid of all that tension. The Zoroark and the Lucario spent the rest of the afternoon really laying onto each other again -- this time with a few less taunts and bruises.