KamiKowa: That Time I Got Transmigrated With A Broken Goddess-Chapter 39: [] Boop

Xavier squared his stance in the small living room, hands raised in a loose guard. The coffee table had been pushed against the wall, creating a modest open space on the carpet. It wasn’t ideal for sparring, but it would work for some basic drills.

"Okay, let’s start with something simple," he said, gesturing for Calypso to mirror his position. "Just throw some basic punches at me. Nothing fancy."

Calypso positioned herself across from him. She raised her fists in what looked like an approximation of a boxing stance, though her elbows stuck out at odd angles.

"Like this?" she asked, looking down at her own form.

Xavier shook his head. "Your stance is all wrong. Bring your elbows in closer to your body. And don’t lock your knees."

Calypso adjusted, but somehow made it worse, her posture now resembling a cartoon character’s idea of a martial arts pose.

"Have you ever actually been in a fight before?" Xavier asked, lowering his hands.

"I’m thousands of years old." Calypso said, her pink eyes narrowing.

"That doesn’t answer my question."

She hesitated. "Well, not physically. Divine beings typically battle through metaphysical manifestations of will and—"

"So that’s a no," Xavier interrupted. He stepped forward and manually adjusted her stance, positioning her feet shoulder-width apart and tucking her elbows closer to her ribs. "Keep your weight centered. You want to be able to move in any direction."

"This feels weird," Calypso complained, shifting uncomfortably.

"Fighting is weird when you’ve never done it before," Xavier said. "Now try throwing a punch. Just a straight jab with your left hand."

Calypso extended her arm in a motion that looked more like she was reaching for something on a high shelf than throwing a punch.

Xavier pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, no. Keep your wrist straight and rotate your shoulder into it."

He demonstrated, throwing a crisp jab that stopped just short of her face.

"See? Simple motion, straight line, no wasted movement."

Calypso tried again, this time overcommitting and nearly losing her balance.

"This is harder than it looks," she muttered.

"Try again, but slower. Focus on form, not power."

After several more attempts, Calypso managed something resembling a proper jab. It was still awkward, but at least her fist was pointed in the right direction and she didn’t look like she might fall over.

"Better," Xavier said. "Now try to hit me with it."

"Hit you?" Calypso asked, uncertainty crossing her face.

"That’s generally how fighting works," Xavier said dryly. "Don’t worry, you’re way too weak to hurt me."

Calypso frowned. "We’ll see about that." She thrusted her newly learned jab at Xavier’s face. He easily parried it with his forearm.

"Good. Again."

They continued this basic drill for several minutes, with Calypso gradually becoming more comfortable with the motion. Her form was still terrible, but at least she was trying.

"Okay, now I’m going to counter," Xavier explained. "When you throw the jab, I’ll slip it and tap you with a counter punch. Ready?"

Calypso nodded. She threw another jab, and Xavier smoothly slipped to the side, bringing his right hand up in a gentle counter that tapped her lightly on the nose.

"Boop," he said.

Calypso’s eyes crossed momentarily as she looked at his finger on her nose. "Did you just ’boop’ me?"

"I did," Xavier confirmed, checking his status display. "Huh, that’s weird."

"What’s weird?" Calypso asked, rubbing her nose.

"No meter," Xavier said. "That was definitely a counter, but I didn’t get any meter for it."

"Maybe you need to use more force? A real counter would have some power behind it."

"I’m not going to punch you in the face, Calypso."

"Why not? I’ll heal."

Xavier stared at her. "Because I don’t want to hurt you. That should be obvious."

A small smile played at the corners of Calypso’s mouth. "That’s almost sweet."

"We live together. I don’t want to deal with your whining if I give you a bloody nose." Xavier corrected.

"I don’t whine," Calypso whined.

Xavier ignored this. "Let’s try something else. Throw a few punches in succession, and I’ll dodge them. Maybe that will build meter."

Calypso nodded and set herself back in her awkward stance. She threw a series of uncoordinated punches, which Xavier easily evaded with minimal movement. This time, his meter ticked up slightly.

"There we go," he said, noting the change. "Looks like I get meter for perfect dodges even without countering."

"So you need to actually be in danger for the system to register?" Calypso asked.

"Makes sense," Xavier said, rolling his shoulders. "The whole point is risk and reward. If there’s no real risk, there shouldn’t be a reward."

"That seems unfair for training purposes."

They continued practicing, with Calypso gradually putting more effort into her attacks. Her form remained terrible—she telegraphed every punch and frequently lost her balance—but she was enthusiastic.

"How are you this bad at this?" Xavier asked, genuinely bewildered. "You’ve had centuries to observe human combat."

"Observing and doing are different things," Calypso said defensively. "Besides, I never needed to fight physically before. My divine powers handled any conflicts."

"Well, your divine powers aren’t much help now," Xavier pointed out. "So you need to learn the basics of self-defense."

"Why? I have you to protect me," Calypso said, batting her eyelashes dramatically.

Xavier gave her a flat look. "And what happens if we get separated somehow? Or if I’m incapacitated? You need to be able to handle yourself."

The playfulness faded from Calypso’s expression. "You’re right," she admitted. "I’m too dependent on you right now."

"Exactly. So let’s try again."

They resumed practice, with Calypso making a more serious effort to follow Xavier’s instructions. She was still awkward and uncoordinated, but there were moments when she managed to execute a technique almost correctly.

After about twenty minutes, Xavier called a halt. "That’s enough for tonight. You’re getting tired, and your form is getting worse."

Calypso flopped onto the couch, her silver hair escaping its ponytail in several places. "I’m not tired," she said, contradicting the evidence of her heavy breathing.

Xavier checked his status display again. He’d accumulated about thirty points of meter through various perfect dodges, but it had already dissipated since they weren’t in actual combat.

"This system is going to be a pain to master," he muttered.

"But it’s perfect for you," Calypso said, sitting up straighter. "It rewards technical skill and precision, which you already have from your previous life."

"Maybe," Xavier conceded. "But building meter through combat just to use it in the same combat seems inefficient. By the time I have enough stored up, the fight might already be over."

"That’s why you need to practice," Calypso said. "The better you get at building meter quickly, the sooner you can access your special techniques."

Xavier nodded, thinking through the implications. "And I’ll need to be strategic about when to use the meter. Save it for when it matters most."

"Exactly!" Calypso beamed at him. "See? You’re getting it."

Xavier sat down beside her on the couch, his mind working through various combat scenarios. "What happens if I reach full meter? Is there some kind of limit break or special state?"

"Yes," Calypso said, her eyes lighting up. "It’s called Fever Mode. Your attacks become more powerful, and you gain access to your ultimate technique."

"Which is what, exactly?"

Calypso’s expression turned mischievous. "That’s for you to discover. The system adapts to its user. Your ultimate technique will reflect your fighting style and personality."

"That’s not helpful," Xavier said, frowning.

"It’s not meant to be helpful. It’s meant to be exciting." Calypso nudged him with her elbow. "Think of it as a surprise gift from me to you."

Xavier rolled his eyes. "I’ve had enough surprises from you to last several lifetimes."

"You don’t mean that," Calypso said confidently. "Deep down, you love the excitement I bring to your life."

"Deep, deep, deep down. Possibly at the Earth’s core."

Calypso laughed. "Admit it, your life would be boring without me."

"My life would be normal without you," Xavier corrected. "Normal can be good."

"Normal is overrated," Calypso declared. "Besides, you were never normal, even in your previous life. Normal people don’t become assassins."

Xavier didn’t respond to that, his expression closing off slightly. After a moment, he stood up and moved to replace the coffee table in its original position.

"We should get some rest," he said. "Tomorrow’s going to be a long day."

Calypso watched him, her pink eyes thoughtful. "You did well tonight," she said quietly.

Xavier paused, looking back at her. "What?"

"As a teacher," Calypso clarified. "You were patient with me, even though I’m obviously terrible at this."

"You’re not terrible," Xavier said automatically, then caught himself. "Okay, you are terrible. But everyone starts somewhere."

"Even you?"

"Nah, I was born perfect."

"Wow... you even have Zeus’s modesty as well." Calypso stood up, stretching her arms above her head. "Well, I look forward to learning more from you. Even if it means getting booped on the nose occasionally."

"Next time I’ll boop you harder," Xavier promised. "Go get ready for bed. You look like you’re about to fall over."

"Divine beings don’t fall over, we gracefully descend."

"Whatever you say, goddess." Xavier made a shooing motion toward the bedroom. "Go gracefully descend into our bed after you shower."

Calypso stuck her tongue out at him but complied, heading toward the bathroom. Xavier remained in the living room, looking at the small space where they’d been practicing. He flexed his hand, thinking about the counter that had earned him no meter.

It made sense that the system would require actual risk and intent to function properly. In real combat, pulling punches could get you killed. But it created a dilemma for training purposes—how could he practice effectively without hurting his partner?

More importantly, why did he care so much about not hurting Calypso? She was right that she would heal, and she’d volunteered to take harder hits.

Xavier frowned, not liking the implications. He was getting soft, developing actual concern for someone else’s wellbeing. That was dangerous thinking for a former assassin.

But then again, he wasn’t that person anymore. Not entirely. Death had changed him, as had his second chance at life. Maybe caring wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

As long as it didn’t get him killed. Again.