An Excellent View Of My Foot [SF6]

From Here You Can Get An Excellent View Of My Foot

Despite being a crazed and sadistic assassin that beat down both you and Bosch when you first met, you were too impressed by the skills of Juri Han not to eventually swallow your pride, track her down to the slums of Nayshall and ask to learn her style. Juri had no interest in training you like any other martial arts master you'd come across. The only way you'd improve under her, she said, was to get your ass kicked so much that you'd learn how to kick ass like her. And kick your ass she did.

In comparison, your previous training made you slow and inflexible, and she ran circles around you, weaving around your predictable strikes and stopping your kicks before they could even begin, always countering with that vicious roundhouse to the face, making you think you'd emerge from this with a permanent foot-shaped bruise. Dragging yourself from the dirt for what felt like the millionth time, you felt it was time to discard your previous form, since it just held you back against such an opponent. Instead, you drew up into an imitation of Juri's stance - front leg up and ready to kick, arms up and wide to maintain balance.

That got her attention for the first time, and while it only made her sparring more brutal and punishing, you felt like you were actually learning with each hit you took, like she was beating her fighting style into you. Eventually you became accustomed to avoiding her attacks as you got faster and stronger, swaying away from her wicked straight kicks, jumping over her sweeps, ducking under the roundhouses, and even getting in a few counter-hits on the rare occasion she left herself open. It was probably just wishful thinking, but the grin she constantly wore seemed to become less her usual cruel rictus, and perhaps she allowed in a note of pride as she watched her student blossom into a proper street fighter.

Eventually she declared you'd learned as much of her style as she could be bothered to teach you, and the rest would come with time, practice and beating down any boneheaded thug that crossed your path. Besides, you'd become too strong to be an easy punching bag for her. There was no handshake, no mutual bow of respect, no sentiment as she walked away with a nod and a wink, but when your phone buzzed on the train back to the airport you saw she'd added herself as a contact.

She contacted you a few times over the next few days with her trademark lack of respect, or even common decency. Putting on you on the spot for a joke and calling you lame when you failed to tell one, tricking you into agreeing to do a job for her and then mocking you for acting like a goon, even trying to scam you one time for some reason. If you didn't know her, you'd say she was spending way too much time on the internet, but you were taking her words to heart, taking on challengers left and right as you refined your new set of techniques. After spending the last few days getting beat up by a taekwondo master, these guys were light work. Usually.

The guy that challenged you last thing last night, a tall and lanky Canadian, shaved except for unkempt blond muttonchops, turned out to be way tougher than he looked. He seemed to soak up your constant barrage of kicks as if they were nothing, constantly chasing you down to catch you in a devastating suplex or piledriver. By the end of it you felt like a ragdoll being thrown around the place, and by the time he eventually fell, you felt certain you couldn't take another hit. If it hadn't been for Juri's training keeping you mobile and supple so you could keep your opponent at arm's (or leg's) length, you knew it would have been a quick and mortifying loss. With this in mind, you used the last dregs of your strength to drag yourself into your apartment, flop onto the bed and let merciful sleep take you.

You felt like someone had worked you over with a sledgehammer when you awoke to the Metro City sunrise, groaning as you forced yourself to stretch out. Wondering what new and fantastic bruises were decorating your body, you trudged your way to the shower, the sound of a distant motorcycle breaking the silence. Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you went, and you sighed as you fished it out. Who would be contacting you at this time? Of course, it was Juri, and you rolled your eyes as you mentally prepared for her ill-mannered repartee so early in the morning.

As you opened the new message thread called 'How's stuff on your end', you saw her first message.

youre traveling the world, right

She was typing, and you waited a few seconds for the next one.

got a house somewhere?

You grimaced at this. She always ended up putting you on the spot, and it seemed nothing you could say was good enough, so you just texted her the truth.

Just a modest apartment in Metro City

Hey, it may have been small and poky but it was cheap and right in the heart of the city, which were usually mutually exclusive qualities. It even had an en-suite bathroom, which saved you having to shower in the local gym and show off your bruises.

sick, came the reply.

means you can make yourself scarce whenever you get in trouble

That was nice. Even if she thought you were going to do crime or whatever, at least she approved of your living quarters.

The next few messages came in a flurry, barely seconds apart. Must have been using predictive text.

im gonna crash there the next time im in metro for work

im your master remember

better roll out the red carpet when I grace you with my presence

You chuckled at this. No way in hell were you letting her stay with you, no doubt bringing with her trouble from disgruntled gangs, law enforcement and God knows what else. Even if she was your master, you had survival instincts. She was probably just joking, so you just replied with a noncommittal thumbs-up sticker and hoped she'd drop it.

heh

seriously. red carpet. make it happen

She signed off with her usual cutesy cartoon spider sticker.

Still not sure if she was being serious, you slipped your phone back into your pocket and stripped down, stepping into a cool shower. The water hurt as it hit your abused skin, but by now you were used to pain, and the cold gradually soothed it as you cleaned up. Maybe you'd just work out and use the heavy bag for the next few days as you healed up. Maybe go for a run and grab a hamburger on the way back-

BANG BANG BANG

Someone was knocking on your door hard. The loud noise startled you. You didn't have any deliveries coming, and none of your friends would be busting down your door first thing in the morning.

"Give me a moment," you called softly. At least one of you was being respectful to your neighbours.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

Clearly this wasn't good enough. The knocking managed to get even louder, and you wouldn't be surprised to see a fist-shaped dent in it after you'd told whoever was bothering you to piss off.

"Fine! I'm coming!" you shouted angrily, wiping the suds from your eyes and stomping out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your waist as you stalked, dripping wet, to the door. Unlocking it and wrenching it open before the knocker could beat a hole through, the words 'piss off' died on your lips as you saw who stood there. It was her. Of course.

Juri Han stood there, looking distinctly unimpressed as she looked you up and down. She crossed her arms over her spider-themed bodice, tutting and shaking her head.

"No red carpet? I distinctly remember asking for a red carpet."

"Can I fini-"

"And you're all bruised up. What's the matter? Getting used as the communal punching bag? Thought I trained you better than this, rookie," she said dismissively, pushing past you into your apartment and looking around. "Nice bachelor pad," she said. "Good décor, but I'm still not seeing any carpet at all, red or otherwise. What, no royal welcome for your beloved master?"

"You gave me fi-"

"Yeah, well, a good student would have had one prepared. You got any curry 'round here?" she asked, rummaging through your pantry. "Couldn't get anything to eat, it's been busy busy busy ever since I got here."

You rubbed your eyes, closing the door behind her in defeat. "I'm finishing my shower," you say with finality.

"Those bruises won't wash out, you know," she said acidly as you trudged back into the bathroom. "You know you're meant to take punches on your guard, not block them with your face, right?"

You ignored her, pretending the hiss of the shower drowned out her words, but it didn't stop her.

"Oh shit, you do have curry! I love this instant curry shit, maybe I can forgive you for failing to give me the VIP treatment." As you finished up your shower, you sighed. You hoped she didn't try and spar with you. Not only were you in no shape to be pummelled to pieces by a powerful, sadistic warrior, you simply didn't have the room here to accommodate her flashy, athletic fighting style. She most likely didn't care about little details as kicking holes in the walls and mass noise complaints, but you sure did.

You emerged, towel around your waist, as Juri threw a handful of chili powder into a bowl of curry sauce, instant rice, and some cold cooked chicken breast you prepped yesterday morning.

"You never told me you ate mild curry," she said, saying 'mild' like a normal person might say 'dog turd' or 'cockroach'. "I take it back; I don't forgive you. If I had known when you begged me to kick you around, I would have killed you on principle."

"Um," you began, hoping you won't be interrupted this time, "What are you doing here?"

"What's it look like? Laying low, dumbass," she said chidingly as she began to rapidly gulp down your food. "I've been knocking over Mad Gears, shaking up their goons for information, but their higher ups got pissed. Normally I'd be all for waging a one-woman war on those knuckleheads, but my employer has instructed me to 'stay discrete'."

You chuckle a little at that. "Since when were you discrete?"

"You treat your master with respect," she said without rancour, shovelling down as much inedibly spicy rice as your chopsticks could hold at a time. "I can be stealthy as all hell if I want to be. 's just no fun, is all. I want my enemy to see me coming, gives 'em time to piss themselves before I send them to hell."

"And they're coming here?" you ask, trying not to let fear enter your voice.

She waved her free arm as she ate. "Relax," she said, grinning that grin that only ever means pain and horror. "They were tailing me but I shook 'em on the way here. Amateurs," she said, shaking her head. "You're not being watched or anything? Last thing I need is Metro PD crawling up my ass because you're too dumb to keep the cops off your trail."

You sighed. "You know I don't work like that,"

"Master," she said liltingly.

"Master," you said grudgingly.

"Hey, that's what I like about you, rookie," she said, finishing your curry and starting on a tall glass of water. "Always keeping your nose clean, staying innocent. Even when I beat your ass, you're wanting to be friends and sing kumbaya and shit. Still," she said, finishing her water and looking at you, her cybernetic eye glowing faintly behind her eyepatch. "Word on the street is you're shaping up to be a real contender. Looks like taekwondo really fits you," she smiled, sitting on a chair and promptly leaning back precariously on two legs, balancing by putting her bare feet on the table.

"I'm still improving, master," you said modestly.

"More than you know," she replied. "Some day you may even be a match for me, but don't expect that day to come soon."

You snorted, despite yourself. "Can I put some clothes on now?"

"Almost tempted to say no, rookie," she smirked, making a show of looking you and down again, hungrily this time. "All this exercise and fighting has done a number on your body. Look at you, all shredded," she purred.

"Feeling shredded too," you grunted. "That last fight was a tough one,"

"I'll say," she replied, turning around to grant you some modesty as you drop the towel and pull some trousers and a long-sleeved shirt on. "But watch where you put your mirrors, rookie."

You leapt around and saw her reflection staring at you, showing teeth in a predator's grin. You instantly flushed with embarrassment and anger, trying to stammer out some apology or demand for an apology, but she cut through.

"You've got a nice butt there," she said shamelessly. "Just a simple compliment. You gotta have strong glutes if you wanna generate real kicking power. I mean, look at me," she smirked, getting up and letting the chair fall behind her. "Don't act like I never caught you sneaking a peek. I'm not some catwalk bimbo, but I think I clean up pretty good, am I right?"

You averted your gaze as she flaunted her body in front of you. In truth, Juri was pretty hot in a sex-freak-bondage-dominatrix kind of way, but you saw being around a beautiful girl as more of a bonus to learning combat taekwondo from an undisputable master of the art, even if she was beating you half to death in the process.

"Hey, big boy, I'm over here," she said strictly, forcing you to look back at her. She posed provocatively, facing you and bending forwards at the waist, giving you a good look at the upper slope of her bosom clad in her dudou bodice, the gaps between the spider's 'legs' exposing smooth, creamy flesh. Her supremely toned abs weren't even covered by clothing, since she was just too proud of her feminine strength. She arched her back, displaying the cheeks of her butt clinging to the fabric of her baggy sweatpants. As a testament to her contortionist's flexibility, she took the opportunity to rotate her hips and perform a standing split, balancing on one leg while the other leg pointed perfectly straight up. She grinned at you, licking her lips as she watched your eyes travel, awestruck, up her leg and to her bare foot.

"Not bad, huh?" she asked, smoothly bringing her leg back down and returning to a standing posture. "But I'm seeing something in your eyes... this isn't just a student in awe of his master, right?"

"J-Juri..." you stammered.

"Ah ah ah, still your master," she playfully admonished you. "Are you ogling me? Staring at me like I'm a piece of meat?"

"Uh... yes?"

She tittered, her eyes narrowing. "Guilty as charged then. Then again," she shrugged, "I'm guilty too. You're filling out nicely, rookie. Soon you'll have a body like mine... except for these big old things," she said, squeezing her boobs. "It'd be a little strange... a lot strange if you grew a pair like that, but if you're admitting to admiring my body, then maybe you've grown a pair in a different way."

"I, uh, I think," you began, "I should go."

"Not happening, Romeo," Juri said, lifting her front leg and holding her arms in a guard position - her fighting stance. "You take one goddamn step towards that door and I'll kick your head off, and don't think I can't."

Instinctively you drew up into a stance that mirrored hers, your embarrassment suddenly condensed into a cold hard centre of anger. Even if she was your master, you were too used to fighting and winning to roll over and take orders from her. She was the one who barged into your home, she ate your food without asking, and now she wanted to humiliate you like this? No matter how battered and bruised you were, no matter how out of your league against an opponent like her, no fucking way were you submitting without a fight.

"Ooh, real scary," she said with heavy irony, shifting her weight onto the balls of her foot as the angle of her front leg shifted. "Face it, there's only one way this is gonna go."

"Maybe," you conceded. "But you're going to have to fight for it."

Her face lit up at that, and she snatched away her eyepatch, displaying the luridly glowing Feng Shui Engine replacing her left eye. The light emanating from it was intense, almost painful to look at. "That's the attitude, rookie!" she said with a gleefully vicious laugh. "Never give up, no matter how long the odds. Despite your other faults, your nerve doesn't disappoint. Unfortunately for you," she said before she leapt at her prey, "Showing spirit only gets me hotter!"

The kick arced towards your head with savage grace, and you barely brought up your injured arm in time to block it, the force making you wince with pain and stumble back against the front door.

"See? You took a step towards that door, rookie," she said in a sing-song manner. "Gotta get on your knees and beg if you want to survive this one."

Another jumping approach, the same kick incoming, but it had to be a feint. Juri hated a lack of imagination, and during your sparring she'd never led with the same attack twice in a row. You threw up your arm again, but when she suddenly put her leg down and let fly with a straight kick from the other, you were ready to parry the kick and rush forward, pushing her away and creating space.

Taking the initiative, you came forward with an attack of your own, your front leg swinging around in a crescent kick aimed for her chin, but she saw it coming. Instead of ducking, she smoothly leaned back as your foot passes over her head, raising her own foot as a counterbalance and bringing it around as you leave yourself open, rotating her hips as she threw the full force of her body into a side kick that you frantically hopped away from. She settled into a kick combination, throwing a roundhouse for you to block, a sweep for you to jump over, and then an unexpected hook, her leg closing around your trailing arm, trapping it. Thinking quickly, you forcefully withdrew your arm from the long sleeve, but she grabbed the sleeve of your shirt with her hand and tore it away as you went, holding the detached sleeve as she maintained her guard.

"You know, I kind of like this idea," she said idly. "Ripping the clothes off of you... that's pretty hot, right?"

You were too amped up for a sufficiently witty response, so you poked at her with a low kick before coming in with a high, but she was too fast once again. The Feng Shui Engine glowed as her arms snaked out and tore off the rest of the shirt, grabbing great handfuls of fabric and pulling hard. Enraged (it was an expensive shirt), you grabbed at her clothes in kind, grabbing her bodice and ripping it off with so much force that as you flung it away your momentum made you spin around, forcing you to take a step back and putting distance between you again. Before your brain could make sense of the logical consequences of what you did, your instinct made your gaze focus in on Juri Han. A very topless Juri Han, who, despite her state of undress, was still bouncing on her toes in her stance, which did wonderful things to her chest.

"Caught you looking again," she said with a sleazy little smirk, stepping down into a neutral position and cupping her breasts, hefting them up for inspection. "Not so bad, are they? Some people prefer that Mika bitch because she dresses like a whore and throws her ass and tits around in the ring, but fuck what they think. What matters is that I think I'm hot as fuck, and, judging by that bulge in your pants, you agree." She grinned, her eyes burning a hole in your crotch as you awkwardly shift to hide your erection from view.

"And you know what? You're not so bad yourself. Standing there all ripped and shit... ooh, the things I'm gonna do to you. So how about you strip down and I'll show you what Juri Fucking Han is all about? You know you want to," she said salaciously, ending her little speech by licking her lips again.