Oh crap, her- Shirt was down. Awkward. Incredibly so, actually, as he stepped back, watching this woman absolutely foam at the mouth. Now, here was the thing. Taro didn't know about her like, secret abilities, or any sort of... Weird, techniques her clan could pull off, because he wasn't really paying attention to her clan name.
So when her rage manifested into some sort of yellow aura, and she hit him so hard across the cheek that she damn nearly threw out a tooth, he slammed to the ground hard, rolling around a few times before he picked himself up, ever so slowly.
In truth, that had knocked the sails out of him. His fighting energy was already teetering around, but getting punched that hard? You might as well have clocked him with a baseball bat. Not to mention she hit again, where she'd already hit before. That was going to leave a nasty bruise... And she had definitely unhinged his jaw with that hit.
Still, Taro wasn't one to go down easy. She didn't know this, but fuck, she'd soon find out. He seemed to not be getting back up, and when he was, it looked like the fight was over.
Not quite. Focused on the blood filling up his body, channeling the inner energy of his pure, blood born roots, Taro kicked himself back up to his feet and stared the woman down, one hand wrapped around the Kunai, the other, fist around the ring.
He spit more blood to the side, and the entire arena was going to need some serious cleaning after this, as he gave her another grin. It wasn't malicious though, this time. No, it was excited. He was excited to have an opponent who pushed him so far, who growled so dangerously, who had some sort of... Secret power to her.
He wanted more. Regardless of whether or not she followed up, he nodded towards her, telling her he was okay to keep going, even if it wasn't for much longer. She may have had him on the ropes, and he may have looked like he should have been down, but by some disgusting push against the nature of the world itself, he was still standing- A crooked, half hanging jaw making him look like some sort of fucked up zombie, blood dripping from it.
And with that, he went in. He knew it wasn't a particularly great idea, and he didn't exactly have any special techniques to throw around, but it didn't matter. He went in anyways. A left hook, but it was just a feint, as he swung his kunai up into her gut. But even that was just something to follow up with more strikes- Knees, kicks, punches, slices.
Taro used weapons, yes, but that was just a small part of what he was. He used ANYTHING he could get his hands on. His fists, his legs, a sword, a piece of wood that had dropped from their nearby fighting. He wasn't someone trapped if he lost a weapon- No, on the contrary.
He always had a weapon, and in a manner of speaking, he was that weapon.
-Hitting that DETERMINATION SA to get back up again, broken jaw and all, blood pouring from his mouth. -Giving it his all because he aint got shit to use anymore. Punches, kicks, feints, slashes with his Kunai, a last hurrah of vicious strikes. Unintentionally, there's some hope here that the sight of someone still fighting despite the injuries given to them are enough to make them trip up a bit on the defense, but seeing how Takeda work, that's not likely.
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