Unconventional and unexpected, this. Vayne had guessed her to simply veer away from the kick, the way Zangan would have advised - not to grasp his leg like a drunken Bangaa in his cups. He huffed his surprise when Tifa pulled on his ankle, the heel of his grounded foot readying itself instinctively to launch itself into one of their master's classic drop-kicks -

And Vayne realized he'd been had.

There were only so many working counters from the position she had him in, and all of them were too deadly to chance. Indeed, the only window of opportunity was...the window. Vayne clenched his jaw. Even another inch away and he might have been able to roll them both aside, but Tifa had veered them too close. Whether he struck with the other foot or tried to wrest his own away, the slightest exertion might now send her plummeting, and there was no telling if he'd have the speed to stop her fall.

Tifa surely understood this. Counted on it. Gambled her life on it.

Anger darkened his eyes. "You're bluffing," he said, on the heels of a growl - while the only heel he had left tensed on the carpet, immobilized by the weight of his frustration.