For a mere moment, Haruki thought he was winning, that he actually stood a chance, and he was about to do what he was preparing himself to do all his life - kill his opponent. But it was suspiciously easy... There was no defense put against him. What definitely wasn't normal. There was some trick in this, for sure... A hidden purpose behind the still pose of the Samurai. This was...<br/><br/>...a game?<br/><br/>A game for life and death. A game<span style="font-style: italic">of</span>life and death. But this trump card was more than Haruki could bear, this blade struck too deep. He was left with a completely blank look on his face, staring at the form that stood before him. It was not unfamiliar.<br/>Maybe it was too familiar...<br/><br/>His hands, gripping the katana, sunk down. He couldn't get a word out. Not a single word, just an empty stare. His inside was torn up to pieces, tiny little scraps that no one could put back together. He didn't even feel the pain from the wound, caused by the Black Samurai's blade anymore. There was nothing but that hollow emptiness inside.<br/><br/>He didn't move. He couldn't. Even if he could think about it, his muscles wouldn't obey and his limbs wouldn't move.<br/><br/>Something crashed into him from the side. A disgusting crack would have warned him of the breaking bones in his arm, if he'd be at his senses enough to even realize that something pushed his body into the wall. But maybe that pain that followed was just enough to wake him up again.<br/><br/>He grit his teeth, eyes narrowing once again. How dare did this...<br/><br/>"HOW DARE YOU TAKE ON THE FORM OF MY MASTER?!" he burst out, and with the remains of his strength a fierce attack begun again. The Black Samurai just got the full deal of his rage, his hunger for revenge and his determination out.