Chris orbited around the zirka, who went on the defensive. After every two strokes, he bounced back, pulling off, and invested saved energy in the next two strokes. Again, and again, forward, backward. He tried teasing moves that barely touched opponent’s staff trying to lure zirka into attacking. Why is Grinch on the defensive? Not good! Chris needed a surge of emotions to conduct a distracting maneuver. He began to beat higher, not daring to open or to lower his hand – there was a risk to lose the hold, as his palms were dripping wet, but it was time to get closer. Zirka beat off all the attacks, looking sternly and exhaling noisily; beat off every blow, backing away bit by bit under the young man’s pressure. With the last attack, Chris delivered several sharp blows and rushed, directing the body to strike down, under zirka’s arm. Having slipped behind the greenie’s back, he threw bo up with both hands, for only in this way he could be blocked from the back, and guessed right –with the lightning speed, Erzketau turned around immediately with his bo set horizontally, crashing it into Chris’s staff.

“Gr-r-r!” grabbing both staffs and tightening his fingers to prevent the opponent from snatching off his tool, Chris leaned forward, crushing with all his weight, provoking greenie to back away, preventing him from kicking his legs, pushing against the wall.

Grumbling and growling, Chris pushed more.

Come on, let out your tentacle! COME ON!!!

The zirka simply had no other way to free both himself and his bo. Chris literally choked with delight when he felt the tight flesh enveloped his right forearm.

Gotcha!

Chris released both staffs leaving them for zirka to hold; he then grabbed the green tail with his captive hand, rushing to move before this tail sent him flying, and pushed off with his legs, launching his body around the opponent, behind and up with all his strength, until he felt Erzketau's shoulders with his knee pits.

A hellish pain pierced Chris’s hand; Zirka reflexively squeezed everything he could squeeze as soon as the guy’s thighs squeezed his neck. Unable to hold the excess weight, collapsed on his shoulders, Erzketau staggered and fell to his knees, stretching his hands forward for support.

Whistles and claps ripped through the hearing as if someone had popped a bubble that had previously surrounded the battlefield. Chris relaxed his legs and groaned under the flood of feelings. He did it, he managed, he knocked the greenie down, but, damn, all of his body was hurting and his right hand in particular – if it weren’t for the ability to move fingers, he would decide that it was ripped the hell off. As soon as he thought about it, he felt that the pressure on this hand had disappeared. His head spun when zirka rolled him off and Chris flattened on the floor. Now he could relax, and he did, just lying on his back not moving an inch, completely exhausted, covered in sweat from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, trying to stabilize his breathing and eyesight, but the lamps still were sliding down the ceiling.

“Get the ice! Quick!” the coordinator thundered somewhere from above.

They all broke into noise again, several students approached them. Others rushed for a compress and someone called for a doctor. Chris tried to sit down, but he was forcefully pressed to the floor.

“Lie there,” he was ordered darkly.

“I’m fine, really,” Chris began, but gasped, clutching his ribcage with his good hand.

The rumble gradually faded; when the spectators realized that no one had died, they began to leave. The sounds of stomping and shuffling were heard from everywhere.

“Little brat...,” the circus exhaled, taking Chris’s hand and wrapping it in an ice pack.

“Ashsh...,” the winning victim whimpered.

“Yes, do you wanna file a complaint?” zirka grumbled still displeased. “Total skrantl¹.”

“Tee-he-he,” only now the whole event began to sunk in his mind with organized thoughts. “Hey, you fought great, Erzketau-kri.”

A dissatisfied sniff in response. Who’d think he was so saddened by defeat. It wasn’t in their nature to worry about some pride issues.

“You... surprise me as well, Chris,” zirka finally admitted in a quiet voice. “But was it really worth it?”

“If you enroll me to the team, then yes,” Chris answered, still smiling. “So, will you?” not completely getting rid of his doubts, he asked, opening his eyes and finding the face of the scientific coordinator.

Zirka was sitting to his right, cross-legged, pressing a voluminous compress on Chris's hand, his eyes on Chris. A towel was thrown over his shoulders and the smart wristband fixed on its place.

“Well, I accepted the terms of the match, which means it would be very indecent of me to refuse your request after an honest defeat,” he said seriously, without a smile.

“Thank you,” Chris, on contrary, answered with the widest smile of his, and decided it was time to get up.

He sat up very carefully not without the zirka’s support and looked around. There were just a couple of students in the gym worming up to practice. Zirka handed him another compress, hinting that it’s good to apply it to the ribs. At that moment, one pair of steps become very loud in the corridor, someone was apparently running here, and in just a few seconds, Josh flew into the room.

“Late!” a cry of wild despair erupted from his chest, but somehow it sounded too showy, so Chris didn’t bother feeling sorry for him, and just smiled, waving his friend to come closer.

“Erzketau-kri,” Josh nodded, sitting down to Chris’s left, looking as if asking how he could help.

“Tumblin-kri,” zirka nodded too, looked at Chris's hand, and slowly freed it from the icy prison.

On the skin whitened from the cold, a bruise stood out bright red, spirally encircling the arm – a mark of the lizard’s tail. The owner of the tail clicked his tongue, shook his head, and carefully probed for a fracture.

“Mei, launch humans' soft tissue, and bones scanning,” he ordered the band’s AI and traced Chris’s forearm several times with the projection screen. Then he did the same to other traumatized spots.

“There are no fractures, but I insist that you visit the medical unit,” he said, then got up and added, “Just so you know, I will warn the doctor, please do not create him any problems. If you want to hang out later, then proper care and a sling will only help.”

Josh smirked at this line; Chris rolled his eyes. Erzketau nodded and headed for the exit, but then turned again facing them:

“Oh yes, I will make sure to schedule your date as close as possible. You know, everyone is worried before the surgery; I don’t want any worrying thoughts to distract you from the mastering of all the new material, right? Faster in – faster out … and off to conquer transplantology for graduates.”

Josh patted a friend’s numb shoulder after the professor left.

“Don’t say that you yourself didn’t ask for this,” he said rising up.

“Probably... asked,” Chris said doubtfully.

“Can you walk?” Josh inquired sympathetically and giving his hand for Chris to lean and stand up.

“Thanks. So where in the world have you been while I was punched black and blue?”

“With old Kazu, he is forcing a more complicated diploma topic on me, but I’m not quite sure if I am ready to take it.”

“He won't advise shit. Do as he says. Ouch!”

Slightly limping, Chris hobbled to the shower. A friend was waiting in the locker room and then helped him to get dressed. Together they went to the housing complex, discussing the thesis, the old Japanese, and Chris's incredible luck.

¹ skrantl – (sirka) has multiple usages; here can mean a “birdbrain” as well as “holy cow”.