She only has one move, and it is to lose.

She knows the moment she sees the Opponent she has to use the move. She knows it as she kicks down the door. She knows it as she kicks over the table! She knows it as she slams forth the stool like a battering ram! One move! Every time! She has practiced it over and over - the taste of blood and bitterness, the feeling of dirt and bruises, the sight of a distant star getting further and further away. Endless exposure to the greatest, most esoteric martial arts and ancient techniques ever made and she only picked up the capacity to lose!

Injimo screams as she strikes forth with the blade's hilt. No space to maneuver in here, not to swing, not even to rotate her sword to stab. So she makes do with hilt and elbow and shouting and the one technique she knows. Many paths! One destination! Many opponents! Smarter, stronger, wiser, more virtuous - this one a giver of healing, one who understands the lie at the heart of the world, who can cut through mysteries that leave her as befuddled as a stone hammer. Why is she striking!? She doesn't know! She has a blade and a path and she's fucking going somewhere and it doesn't matter who put her on it or what curses she bears or who she used to know or who has forgotten her name! It doesn't matter what she's [i]used [/i]for if all she can do is [b]lose[/b]!

"WATCH FOR THE RIGHT MOMENT TO COUNTER!" she screams, heedless in her attack. The Dark Dragon did not have to reach deep to bring this curse to the surface. "BREAK AN OPPONENT'S GUARD WITH A HEAVY ATTACK! OR DON'T!! YOU SURE AS FUCK KNOW BETTER THAN I DO!!" 

She has only one move, and it is to lose. There's nothing to it, and nothing to lose.