Anisa entered the training room next very hesitantly. Having flashbacks again to the cave, she froze when she saw him. He wasn’t in some form of battle attire. He was wearing a long flowing coat, but she could see on his face that it was for his own mental health and not for any act. She eventually stated, “I’m sorry that this ended up happening.”
He nodded, “Yeah, nothing like waking up to realize that you are a cheap knockoff of yourself. Only thing worse than that is finding out your friend you murdered is having an identity crisis.” She froze up, having a hard time processing this. He was clearly and openly a replica but for just a moment it was like he was back. Still, that was the cruelty of this kind of thing. To believe you are someone you can never be. To be cursed with their feelings, memories, and emotions but none of them are your own. He nodded, “Yeah, I remember those days in the field too. But I didn’t call you to relive a past that isn’t mine. I’ll let you have that with the real deal once he is back.” He turned to face her with eyes she knew all too well. “No, this is because you need someone to kick some sense into you. And I mean all of you.”
Anisa held her head as her headache began to swell to levels it had never reached before, Sasori stirring into a fury beneath the surface. Her rage boiling over, both women expected Sasori to take over her body again, but instead she manifested separately. The two women saw each other face to face properly. Not a hallucination. Not a disembodied voice or from behind a pane of glass. Truly face to face. Before they can truly banter as sarcastically as they would like to, the replica kicked Sasori against a wall. Anisa reached out to try to stop him but Sasori hissed at him. “You cannot best me snow, hunter! I wield your pow-“ her rant was cut short when he kicked her through the wall. She looked at him furious.
He stated firmly, “Both of you are too caught up in your own melodrama. So, just like the old days, I’m going to have to kick some sense into you before you hurt yourself.”
Anisa laughed dismissively, “You always hit like a wet noodle.” She was ready to dismiss him entirely, but when his head turned and snapped into place to make eye contact with her, her bravado began to fade. She knew this look. She knew exactly this look. It was here that she remembered Dean’s stories about him and the memories of the other timeline.
He stated firmly, “You each need to learn something different, but both of you can learn it by having the crap kicked out of you because we don’t have time for therapy.” Sasori tried to strike her hunter while he wasn’t looking, but he caught her and kicked her once again to the ground. “Look, a volunteer.”
She got up again, unleashing a flurry of blows, shouting, “I will have victory. With this power there is nothing I will not give for the sake of my prize! You cannot defeat me!”
He took a few decent blows but again kicked her away with a single strike. His glare carried such fire that she hesitated to move. “Have you ever loved ANYTHING but yourself? Does anything have value to you? How does casting away trash count as a sacrifice? Do you even understand the meaning of the word?” His fury was unbridled. Sasori saw a young boy staring in horrified shock at a slightly agape door. He growled, “You aren’t just making a mockery of your power but the very concept of sacrifice itself.”
She lashed out at his vital organs. When she finally struck him she felt she had won only to feel his hand make a vice grip on her neck. Her chitin cracked under the pressure. She twisted her claws in him to try and and get him to release it, but despite a wince he continued to restrain her. She hissed, “What sacrifice can a monster like you give?”
He laughed a hollow laugh. Dragging her over to the frozen memory and throwing her through the gap, he stated firmly, “My humanity. My sympathy. My life. The difference between me and what you see in there is that I am killing myself for others instead of for myself.”
Sasori scrambled out of door ready to fight but was surprised that he had already recovered from mortal wounds. She spoke firmly, “So what. Your mother died. You are not the first.” She came after him again and he took more blows from her to launch her through another wall.
“You don’t understand sacrifice.” Their environment changed again, Shawn in full Cosmo Phoenix regalia, sitting at his desk with a bottle of whiskey in his hand and deep dents in his office door. “You don’t even value your own life.”
She charged him again and once grabbed she hissed, “You show me your deathbed and lecture me on valuing life?”
He nodded, tossing her into the bookcase. He motioned to his frozen counterpart. “Sacrifice is an exchange. It is more than like for like. I had no intention to die, but I was willing to. Why?”
She sneered, “Because you craved victory the same as me.”
He shook his head, “There is no victory in death. But there is in life. Theirs.” He motioned to the door that had been heavily indented. “The lives of those who would do the same for me that I was doing for them.”
Sasori tried to keep her strong act but he saw something change in her eyes. “Sacrifice is motivated by love and steeled by courage. Love pushes you forward towards your fears and your courage will harden you against it until you break through.” He turned to walk back where he came, and murmured, “It was that same fear that brought us to this moment.” When he returned to where he came from he saw Anisa fiddling with the control panel for the training room. He sighed, “I already locked you out of the system for this session. So if you are done wasting time, let’s get this over with.” She turned towards him, bouncing from toe to toe like a boxer. He nodded and got into his own boxing stance. He stated firmly, “Ani, I know how you feel and the end of that road brought us here.”
She smirked, “You mean the two of us face to face. You have got to be kidding.” She lashed out with her legs, stepping in powerfully and pushing him back somewhat. “You are my friend. I would walk through a volcano bare foot to repay you for this chance.” She continued to lay into his defenses with a straight forward assault and he seemed to simply be taking it. “You can’t tell me you walked through your own personal hell, even having to kill me to get this chance. And you want to tell me that it isn’t worth fighting for.”
She froze a moment when she saw him smirk. He deflected her kick and went to punch her in the gut. Spinning with the deflection and stepping back out of the range of his haymaker. Expecting a chance to collect herself she was surprised to see him continue to close the distance, tackling her to the ground by the waist. He lifted her by the waist as he laughed, “You have no idea just how naive you sound right now.” He arched his back, tossing her high through the air. Using her talents to get some semblance of control back, she landed on her feet only to feel him grappling her again, this time from her back, “You are making the same mistakes I did back then. Even when you fight.” He arched his back again, this time keeping his grip tight, forcing her head and neck to bend from the impact of the stone.
She grit her teeth, trying to break his grip. When he finally released she rolled to her feet and did a few backflips to get distance only to see him already at close range again. She lashed out instinctively with a kick, shouting, “Back off!”
He caught the kick and tripped her, causing her to fall to the ground. He stood there, waiting for her to stand back up. “No. You need to hear this. Your head is in the wrong space and if you can’t get a grip on your anger it will blind you to everything around you.”
She swept his legs and did and handspring to get back to her feet. “Go to hell, Hemingway. I don’t need your moral posturing.”
He tried to stand up and she assailed him with axe kicks before locking her legs around his neck and starting to choke him out. Still he remained centered. Calm. No, it was more. He felt empty, like she was choking out a stuffed animal. Again, she saw him smirk. “You did it again. Blinders.” He grabbed the leg not around his neck with both hands, one on her knee and one on her ankle. Effortlessly and too fast to react, he put enough pressure to dislocate her knee completely. Releasing the hold from the sheer amount of pain she was in, he stood up and growled, “If this had been a fight to the death, your carelessness would have seen your entire leg removed and you would never have finished your mission. You would push yourself, and you might make it happen, but you would never be able to fight the same way. No more gymnastics. No more flips and grapples.” He sighed, “And you would never be able to dance again either. All because of one careless mistake.” She looked at him and realized how different he was. There was no joy. No true humor. Just an armored smile. “Don’t let anger or your determination blind you to the consequences of your actions. Every sacrifice needs to be considered or you will lose everything that makes life worth living.” He tapped on the controls and stated, “The Safeties were on so that pain was simulated. But these things are unreliable. So get checked up on by the doctor and then tell her to come for her training.”