"Hey, girls aren't the only ones who can change their minds," he returned, dropping his gaze to focus on her middle-torso. Even with that loose white t-shirt fluttering around her ribs, he might be able to catch a glimpse of any incoming moves telegraphed from her core muscles. "Besides, maybe I'm just feeling kinky."

Or stressed. A decent scratch or two would get his head back together--even if it was a little extreme as a coping mechanism. It was better than beating his knuckles bloody against a punching bag. Just as long as she didn't go for his face.

Tsume still wasn't attacking, which meant she hadn't picked up his unsubtle clue about finishing the fight first. Raidou shifted one foot, saw her eyes track him with a flicker, and threw himself forward with a mental shrug. Let her dodge instead.

He cut in with a high punch designed to break a collarbone--if he'd put any force behind it.