Fon

Reborn ducks a high kick and twists away from an elbow to his ribs, firing off a round of bullets to make the other hired killer stay away. Reborn just needs to keep out of arm's length, just a little while, just enough to finally land a bullet in the man.

It's probably deliberate that they both got the same contract for a drug cartel leader and several key members. There's a practice in the Mafia that's grown in recent years, which basically amounts to hiring more than one assassin for the same job and then watching them fight it out during the mission.

Reborn had worked his way through the building and was holding the boss at gun point when he looked up to find a Chinese man standing in the doorway, wearing a long red tunic with hands tucked into large sleeves. He raised his gun and then Fon was a red blur, attacking with an animalistic glee.

The martial artist is young, not yet the calm man that he grows into, but his fighting skills are polished to a hard shine and sharp edge.

An empty clip is thrown to the floor but before Reborn can reload, the other man slides in close before knocking the gun from Reborn's hand with a jarring punch to the hitman's forearm. Things would be so much easier if he had Leon, but the chameleon is sick back at the hotel room.

They both see the drug boss scramble to his feet and run, but they hold each other's attention.

Reborn redirects three punches and slips away from a kick, throwing his own knee into the man's side. Fon takes the hit with a grunt of pain and catches the leg, keeping it hiked up against his hip so the slippery Italian can't doge the next palm strike to the sternum.

The breath escapes Reborn, forcefully shoved out, and he teeters back, off balance since his leg is still being held. He grabs the other man's shoulders and boosts up, about to slam his other knee into Fon's stomach.

Fon catches the knee and forces the hitman off him and into a backflip. Reborn whips around from the throw, tumbling through the air and only just managing to get his feet under him before he lands. Then Reborn is lunging for his dropped gun, not willing to be in close quarters with the martial artist, especially not without his favoured weapon.

Unfortunately, the gun is closer to Fon than Reborn and the hitman is actually throwing himself into the martial artist's reach.

His fingers brush cool metal but hands are gripping his clothes and the world spins as Reborn is lifted and tossed against the office desk, his abdomen hitting the edge and his hands slapping loudly against the wood to keep his head from being damaged. His hat drops off and rolls to a corner.

Fon darts in before the hitman can recover and grabs a handful of the suit jacket, shoving Reborn further up the desk until the edge digs into the man's hips. Reborn grits his teeth in annoyance as the other man pins him, and throws an elbow back, aiming for ribs.

Fon catches the arm and twists until something gives and it clicks. He then uses a hand to push even harder on the hitman's shoulders, and leans forward to press with his whole body to better hold down the Italian.

Reborn knows what's coming because the Triads tend to have a certain modus operandi regarding making examples of rivals so he brings up his free hand and bites down on the cuff of his sleeve, tensing.

Fon lets go of the broken arm and slams his fist down onto the spine below him, his knuckles pressing right into bone, and Reborn jerks with a muffled curse as pain flares to life all along his body for a brief moment.

When it disappears, he can't feel his legs - or anything from the waist down for that matter. He knows it's a temporary shutdown of his nerves, but it still sends panic shooting through him before he can curb that unnecessary reaction.

Fon pulls away and adjusts his grip on Reborn's jacket, tossing the man off the desk and into the middle of the office. Reborn's back hits the floor after the sudden flurry of attacks and he doesn't even bother trying to sit up. His legs are gone and he only has one working arm.

Reborn is just not having a good day.

Fon rolls his shoulders and steps forward, dropping over Reborn so one knee is planted in between the hitman's unresponsive legs. The Italian strikes out but Fon catches the hand, their fingers laced together, and shoves it back onto the ground. They spend a moment staring at each other.

"Listen," Reborn begins.

"Bargaining already?" Fon murmurs, eyes dark.

The martial artist reaches out with his free hand and tucks his thumb under Reborn's chin, the rest of his fingers curling around to cover the hitman's mouth. Reborn tenses, but the other man just pushes the hitman's head back instead of snapping it violently. Fon looks a bit like he's going to rip out Reborn's throat with bare teeth.

"Not bargaining," Reborn corrects, muffled behind Fon's hand. "Just...please don't throw up on me."

Fon rears back, gagging, and lurches to his feet so he's away from Reborn when he finally vomits. Light flickers of yellow Sun flames are mixed in and more of the 'activation' power is rushing through Fon, flicking various parts and biological coding on and off rapidly enough to send someone into severe shock that can deteriorate quickly into death.

The hitman sighs, relieved, because he honestly thought that wasn't going to work - it doesn't if the other is braced for it. Sun flames finally recover his legs and he sits up, reaching over with his good hand to snap the dislocated shoulder into place. Reborn is soon standing again and perfectly uninjured.

Fon, who should be a blank eyed mess on the ground, has only fallen to a knee. His eyes are unfocused because he can't see, and he sways because the balance in his head is off, but he's not going down anytime soon.

Reborn gives Fon a wide berth as he walks over to the desk. He pauses to flick up the forgotten gun with his foot and catch it, then lifts his hat as well and sets it firmly back on his head before he wanders over to the window.

It takes a second to find the cartel leader fleeing to a nearby car and another few to line up the shot. The leader goes down almost too easily and it sends a pang of disappointment through Reborn, especially after that struggle with Fon. Reborn tucks the gun into his jacket and cuts off his flames.

Fon sucks in a startled gasp as his body comes back under his control. He rolls to his feet immediately, recovering far quicker than anyone else Reborn has seen, but he staggers because his body is still adjusting.

"Maybe next time," Reborn says with a smirk before sauntering away.