~Chapter 13- Jirro V Nout~

As the quarterfinals proceeded, Jirro was trying to strategize for his match against Nout. He knew his weaknesses and strengths, but that was years ago. The Nout he'd face today was different, nearly doubling him in weight. There was confidence in him that he didn't have before. Jirro didn't want to admit it, but it made him nervous. But he simply had to win. He'd make sure of it.

"Next up is Nout Vs. Jirro!" Cho announced aloud.

Nout glanced down down at Jirro, "Let's have a good match," he said politely.

"Yeah, of course." Jirro replied, hiding his anxiousness. The two walked out together. Years ago, Nout stood at Jirro's shoulder, but now he towered over him. Who knew the Phantine could have such growth spurts?

Jirro decided that he'd start off slow, test out Nout's strength and abilities, just as he would with any new opponent. On stage, Jirro took a defensive stance, and Nout did the same.

"These boys were pretty impressive last round."

"The Phantine boy is clearer stronger."

"Jirro seems quite skilled though."

When the drum was beat the match didn't begin with a clash of fisticuffs as with the others, but instead the two slowly inched nearer to each other. Nout very deliberately curled his trunk out in front of him, ready to attack and defend with it.

Jirro was impressed, Nout didn't leave any obvious openings. He stepped in with a few quick jabs to his right, but Nout blocked them well. Nout followed up with a hard punch with his bulky fist, but Jirro weaved out of its way.

The two continued to test each other's guards with quick and deliberate blows, trying to find cracks in the others guard. Each time a strike was blocked, a small shockwave reverberated from the stage to the audience. Jirro felt his arm tingle when he blocked one of Nout's punches.

As the two continued, the fervor of their strikes only grew, Jirro had trouble keeping up with the power and speed Nout was exerting and found himself backing away.

Nout swung his tusks to the side, knocking Jirro off balance. A stern punch broke through his guard and struck him in the chest. Jirro yelled out in pain.

"Point to Nout! 1-0! Return to your starting positions."

"Are you okay Jirro?" Nout asked, genuinely concerned for his friend.

"I'm fine! Don't worry about it," Jirro said nonchalantly as he returned to his starting position. Honestly, it hurt terribly. He couldn't believe how strong Nout had become, and he had a feeling he didn't put his all into that punch either.

With that sort of strength, it didn't serve Jirro to engage him up close. He figured keeping his distance with Focus would do well, Nout never was as adept with Focus as him.

When their match resumed, Jirro threw a hook kick through the air, and a blue Focus Wave emerged from it and traveled towards Nout. But despite the Phantine's size, he swiftly dodged it and returned his own Focus Burst alit green.

Jirro launched several Focus Waves at Nout. He had found out after some experimenting that Focus Waves expended less energy than Focus Bursts.

The stage flashed with green and blue as the two fighters circled each other. While Nout was still swift, that added bulk did hinder him. Jirro's focus waves began to make impact. Jirro laid on the pressure with a few more before charging forward. When Nout was at his most dazed, Jirro jumped in at angle and landed a two footed kick to his side.

"Point to Jirro! 1-1! Return to your starting positions."

"How are these kids so adept with Focus at such a young age?"

Nout winced from the hit but looked to Jirro kindly, "Nice shot."

"Thanks," Jirro replied. There wasn't an anger in him at all, just a sense of friendly competition. Jirro wished it was that simple for himself.

Keeping the fight at long range seemed advantageous for Jirro, and he sought to keep it that way. But when the match resumed, Nout charged forward. Jirro sent Focus Waves at Nout to deter him, but the Phantine warrior forced his way through.

Jirro found himself at the edge of the ring. Nout punched the air and a radiant green light traveled toward him. He braced himself. The strike shook his entire body, but he managed to keep his footing. But Nout followed up with a sweeping punch. It struck him squarely and knocked him off stage.

"Point to Nout! 2-1! Return to your starting positions!"

"He's strong!"

"A true Phantine warrior."

Jirro had a difficult time catching his breath. His whole body ached from that blow. He simply wasn't as strong as Nout. But he had to win.

"Are you okay?" A concerned Nout asked.

"I'm fine!" Jirro snapped at him. When he realized the coarseness of his tone, he couldn't help but feel terrible. He wasn't going to talk to his friend like that. With a softened voice he replied, "Just worried I might lose is all. You're really good."

"Thanks! Nowhere near as good as you though. I've just been lucky," Nout responded humbly.

The two took their places across from each other once again. With a drum beat Nout came forward, but Jirro didn't budge. The pink tinted Phantine swung at Jirro, but just before the strike could land, Nout's fist impacted against a blue barrier surrounding him. Jirro gripped his arm, pivoted in place, and with a mighty roar he swung Nout along and tossed him off stage.

"Point to Jirro! 2-2! Return to your starting positions!"

"That's quite a sight. Seeing him throw a larg fighter like that."

The blue barrier surrounding Jirro faded away, and he began to breathe hard. He needed to finish the fight quick.

With a drumbeat, the two inched closer to each other. Jirro patiently waited until he was in range, and he flexed his arms. Both hands were surrounded in a radiant blue light, and he charged forward with a flurry of blows. Nout tried to block, but the sheer force behind each strike was staggering. Jirro broke through and struck him in the stomach.

"Point to Jirro! 3-2! Jirro takes the match!"

Jirro quickly cast the Focus enveloping his hands away and felt great fatigue. He was hoping he wouldn't have to amplify the force of his strikes at all during the tournament, but Nout forced his hand.

Cho commended the two friends for a close match, and they returned to the finalist's lobby together.

"Did I do well?" Nout asked.

Jirro was surprised by the question, "Of course you did! I was lucky I won! Honestly, you were pretty terrifying in there."

"You're just saying that to be nice."

"No! I really mean it," Jirro said, and the two sat down after a hard-fought match, "Honestly, if we were to fight outside of a tournament, I don't think I could beat you."

Nout began earnestly, "I just wanted to show you that I wasn't the same weak kid you met back in the Bog Woods, you know? If I had never met you, I might still be that weak kid. not just physically weak, but mentally. Watching you taught me how to stand up for myself and be confident. I just wanted you to know that."

Jirro smiled, "You shouldn't credit all that to me. Even when I first met you, I knew you were strong. Even if you didn't yet."

------------------------------------------

"For the final match of the quarter finals, we have Hita Vs. Efilon!"

Jirro glanced to the masked boy sitting silently in the corner of the room with closed eyes. They opened at the mention of his name and he sauntered outside.

Hita stared at him angrily. As she passed Jirro on her way out to the stage she said, "I'll see you in the semi-finals."

Hita and Efilon both took the stage across from each other, Jirro glanced at Aero and noticed a nervous expression on his face, "Why're you so worried about that guy?"

"I just have an idea of what he's capable of," Aero replied.

"Sure, he beat Seraphi. But Hita beat both of us before! She'll be fine."

Despite this, Aero watched nervously.

"Another lightweight bout."

"I think that flying kid is going to win."

The match began, and Hita charged forward. Efilon pointed his finger and several beams of purple light burst from it, but she weaved around them as if she was expecting it. The Masked One's feet left the ground and glided away as soon as Hita drew close.

Efilon effortlessly flew just out of range of each of Hita's blows. Out of frustration Hita became sloppy and left herself open, which the Masked One capitalized on, landing a swift strike on her shoulder.

"Point to Efilon! 1-0! Return to your starting positions!"

"They're both so fast."

"That girl can't compete with a flying opponent though."

Jirro noted that with his ability to fly, it'd be fruitless to chase after him. His ability to evade was too great.

Hita was fuming, and when the drum signaled them to begin again, she threw several hook kicks through the air at various angles. Blue Focus Waves traveled towards Efilon, but the boy flew out of the way of all of them.

Efilon floated higher into the air and began to circle the ring. The brown-haired girl punched the air several times, but none of the Focus Bursts she procured landed. Then The Masked One dive bombed Hita from the sky.

Hita flexed her entire body and a blue barrier surrounded her, and Efilon struck that. He continued to strike against the barrier she created.

Jirro knew she couldn't keep that up. Maintaining the barrier for even a few seconds was very draining, and Efilon was forcing her to uphold it. Hita jumped back and let the barrier fall away from her, Jirro could tell she was exhausted. The moment after she dropped the barrier, Efilon struck.

He kicked the air and a radiant burst of purple light emerged from him, striking Hita and knocking her out of the ring.

"Point to Hita! 2-0! Return to your starting positions!"

"He's very skilled."

"That girl is giving it her best though."

Hita returned to the stage as slowly as she could, using the time to catch her breath. She must've known that the aggressive approach wasn't working against him, she had to try something else.

When the drum was beat, Efilon fired several beams of purple light at Hita, and the girl did her best to avoid them. When one struck her in the shin, she gritted her teeth. Hita shouted and her hands were covered in a radiant blue light. She struck the ground beneath her, creating a plume of dust and debris around her, obscuring her from everyone's sight.

A blue blur burst from the plume, rocketing towards Efilon. Before the Masked Boy could react, Hita landed an uppercut on his chin and knocked him over. She cleverly used the plume of smoke to veil her attack.

"Point to Hita! 1-2! Return to your starting positions."

"Come on. You can do this," Jirro muttered to himself. She could beat Efilon, she just needed to fight smart.

Hita and Efilon took their places, and the match resumed. An exhausted Hita stood her ground. Efilon raised his hand into the air and in moments an orb of purple light formed at his fingertips, just as Oshu and Aero had done.

Efilon tossed the orb at her, guiding with his hands like Oshu did, even Aero hadn't figured out how to do that yet. Hita narrowly dodged the orb, but it circled back to her. She waited and plucked the orb out of the air and threw it back at Efilon, who batted it away.

She charged forward hoping to catch Efilon off guard. When she went to strike him, a purple light enveloped him, a barrier, absorbing the force of her blow. Efilon grabbed her by the arm, swung her around, and tossed her off stage.

"Point to Efilon! 3-1! Efilon takes the match!"

"They were both quite skilled."

"That boy could win this whole thing at the rate he's going."

"Even a member of the Fighting Academy is no match for that boy."

The purple barrier enveloping Efilon fell away, and he seemed unaffected, not fatigued by the technique whatsoever. He flew from the stage, not even bothering to glance at Hita, enraging the little girl even more.

As he passed into the finalist's lobby, Efilon's eyes lingered on Aero before he took a seat at the corner of the room once again and closed his eyes.