Manaka lowered the sword blade to his side once more, his body tensing a bit as he waited. He would have to keep on his toes, unless he wanted to be caught in another illusion.
He could only stare in surprise as the fist connected with his face. He fell ungracefully onto his back, wincing at the pain of both his spine and the innards of his mouth. He nearly dropped his blade, which had been clenched so tightly in his hands.
One of his closed eyes twitched at the question, as he continued to lay there. "You just punched me into the ground. Do I look like it?" He asked dryly, but in a mild tone as to not provoke hostility.
"Sorry...." Manaka slowly pulled himself up, taking in deep breaths in order to attempt to get his energy back. "Poor circulation. It's an illness I'm stuck with, unfortunately."
"Not at all. I'm not even sure if I'm to the point of my body breaking down...." He admitted, getting up to face her. "If you want, we can call this a draw and sheathe our blades. Otherwise, feel free to resume your attack."
