Takeru Kazami
Sorry, Torai-san, I won't lose to you.
His mental apology was done, there was no need to hesitate. Takeru's punch flew with a strength he knew the young woman wouldn't be able to block efficiently. She was small, after all. Even if she was not some weakling, he towered over her with his height alone, and while he was no body-builder, he wasn't some scrawny wimp either. In terms of power, he was easily confident about his advantage. However, he also knew that fighting was not simply about power. Seiren made this clear as, as beautifully as a dancer, she twirled around his punch, leaving it to strike naught but the air where she had once been standing.
Almost instantaneously, she then took the liberty of throwing a punch of her own, straight towards Takeru's
It was a bit too predictable for Takeru, and with the form of evasion she had just displayed, he figured that it had to be intentional. Maybe she wanted to play a bit, or maybe she wanted to trick him. Who knew? Carelessly, Takeru went to raise up his hands to block the attack, but was not fast enough to protect himself, the punch sliding across his face with perfect contact, his head snapping to the side. Yet, this was not all that had occurred. Whereas most would have been able to follow up on the attack, Takeru gave Seiren no time, having allowed the strike to connect on purpose and instead gripped her punching arm with his left hand, pulled it towards him so that the woman herself would be forced to come with, and twisted his body so that his left elbow could move effectively towards her own face, all in but a quick movement which almost seemed rehearsed, given how flawless it was delivered.
In that situation, there was not much the weaker party could do: Takeru had one of her own arms in his strong grasp, and his other arm was about to deliver quite the elbow when it connected.