Tomaru instantly noticed the visage of a cracked composure. A lunging attack with the club was a sound strategy in the air because his movement was preordained by gravity, but with his feet on the ground, Tomaru had an endless valley of choices and could move as elegantly as a swallow in flight and as swiftly as a striking snake. A wide horizontal swing was possibly the worst course of action that Fuchsia could have taken given the current circumstances. The little demon left so many openings that if Tomaru was a mech, his targeting system would overload. Fortunately, his brain was better equipped for the scenario than such a targeting system, and he simply stuck to the fundamentals of Ayako-ryu.

Swoosh! The hellzooka cleaved through the air as Tomaru fell straight backwards into his Usagi stance, his weight shifting fully onto his tail. Then, as soon as he was able to rise up without decapitating himself, his tail snapped like a spring, pushing Tomaru's body back into an upright position with great velocity. And, as the heavy club continued on its horizontal arc, the kitsune lunged forward, propelled by the snap out of Usagi. He clutched his katana firmly with both hands and delivered a counter-stab, aimed so that the blade would slip between the demon's ribs and pierce any vital organs that may or may not reside their.

A fierce and bloody ferocity was truly a double edged blade. A wielder of it's power were as likely to inflict damage upon themselves, often indirectly, as they were to everyone else around them. As it was, Fuchsia was such a wielder. Fighting the way he did, meant creating openings, not on his enemies, but on himself. Inviting the french in on a cup of tea. A walking trojan horse. His club went swooshing over Tomaru's head, the swordsman cleverly leaning backwards enough to bend under it, and propelling himself forward with the use of his tail to close in the final distance between him and Fuchsia in an forward thrust. Fuchsia's Hellzooka was pretty damn big, so it was by all means required to move forward like that manner.

The demon child, however, fully intended to mash his face in when the opening was exploited. Instead of continuing the horizontal sweep of his club, he simply let go the very instant it passed Tomaru's head. The metallic weapon was hurled into the distance, disappearing into the thick veil of darkness. Spla-Kshhhhht! The blade pierced through his chest. He had seen it coming, was fully capable of maneouvering in a manner to attempt to avoid it, but chose not to. Instead, he quickly shifted his body slightly down and to the side, as he pushed forward, forcing the blade through his body. His right lung was pierced. Fuchsia didn't make a sound, His right hand moved up to grab a hold of the sword hilt, as he simultaneously moved his head forward to meet the oncoming Tomaru head on. Literally. He dashed forward, head on first, with an aim to headbutt the swordsman right in the face. The ground beneath his feet again coming apart under the pressure of his force. The full extent of his massive strength pushing on behind, plus the additional force of Tomaru's own forward movement, would make a clean hit devastatingly lethal for the swordsman.