Catchin' Spirit [Private]

[Takahashi]

He was standing barefooted near the water's edge, bare footed and baring a frail chest and frame to the world. His arms hung like dead weights at his sides while he looked upwards at nothing. All the extra clothing he usually word lay strewn about as he stood there in his jeans. His gas mask was in its inert form, having yet to feed from the cursed power inside him.

It was late, and it was a time if night only the defiant or the predatory made themselves acquainted with. At times like those, brave souls could experience what others only dreamed of. Having a vast body if water all to yourself without a person in sight was one such experience. His formerly emaciated form now simply slender and very lean. "Here I am God...Send me to the world." He'd half whisper before leaning forward and splashing into the water. In another moment he was up with a burst. Laughing and smiling iregardless of his missing central incisor. He seemed so wild and free, gently rocking his head left and right until he maintained a full swing throwing water from his thin hair all about. "From you, the mighty king of kings I learn the words that sustain the weary heart. Our generation will prophesied. May we be the generation to... Bring your glory down!" As he carried on his movements become more animated as he bounced in the water on the balls of his feet (I don't even), and a grand final splash as he jumped up and out. He didn't get very high out if the water, but he didn't seem to be trying any way. Finally just laying there, breathing heavily he had exhausted himself. Kuro and God had done what they couldn't but without the enchanted equipment he found himself winded quickly. Still, that made him all the more resentful of the helpful technology. As if suggesting he was nothing without it. He knew better. God knew better.

 

[Muramasa Maya]

Late night, a refreshing time for her. While her days and evenings were stuffed full of various lessons and trainings preparing her to become a lady and priestess of the Aikayume, or a shinobi of Suna, nights were strictly her own time. Even if that was only because her clan believed her to be withdrawn into her room, asleep or reading something. In truth, she was adept at sneaking away into the night to go off on her own undisturbed adventures. Tonight, this would be to train with her sword skill; hence why she wore gi fit for training and brought along her wooden blade.

If she remained within her clan's grounds, her brother or one of the family caretakers would have barged in on her training, eager to teach her. However there was only so much learning the poor girl was able to handle in one day, and truth be told she felt much more like venting her frustrations by swinging a stick mindlessly than actually practicing her form. As there were not many people on the shores of the undersea tonight; you could even say she had the area to herself to swing away at her hearts content...

...With the exception of the sole other soul here. A boy, seemingly in thought as he stood at the fringe of the water. (Is he meditating or something? It is fairly quite here tonight); there was a reason the Aikayume heiress chose this place as her escapade for the night.

From the distance she was at his lithe figure could pass for a spirit of sorts; a white-haired, bleached-skin ghost of the undersea lake. In fact for a moment that is exactly what the little priestess had believed enough to stop approaching the beach and simply observe. It wasn't until after he had made his splash into the underground sea that she was convinced of his physical presence here (although even then, some doubt remained).

Gripping the wooden training sword she had taken with her, the orange haired maiden sighed wearily. With only one other here tonight, it would be awkward and impolite for her to just start up training on the shore while pretending not to notice him. Though she was improper by nobler standards, she was refined enough to have enough courtesy to introduce herself without standing to the side like some eerie watcher.

"You seem to be having fun. How is the water? Cold? Warm?" She asked once she had approached enough to be within speaking distance.

[MFT]

 

[Takahashi]

​

He floated in silence, only the rippling sounds of the water around him intertwined with his heavy breathing remained. Makeinu's mind was racing with thoughts about things that should have been far beyond his level of concern or comprehension. He understood that it wasn't simply Shouki at fault, the mad terrorist aligned with the organization calling itself The Cabal. Things went deeper than that, a recurring cycle of pain and hurt that caused people world over to suffer and he himself had experienced so much destruction. Even his mind, it was gone. All he had were his goals, the people who for some twisted reason cared about his decrepit and foul little form. He knew his soul was dirty, filthier than most and he couldn't even be sure he remembered why. He had learned he Truth though, about why any Lord would allow their child to endure such suffering. He may never retrieve the life he once had before entering Sand, but he had a life beyond.

The sound of a feminine voice caught him off guard, forcing his eyes to widen rapidly and the calm mind he once had to shatter. Instead of floating, he now found himself splashing about as he sunk beneath the surface. The water rippled from the disturbance but otherwise remained untouched as he didn't resurface. It was but a few moments later before he emerged near the banking and climbed up like a wet dog, crawling for his gear scattered on the floor on his hands and knees. By the time he finally found himself amidst them he quickly snatched up his gas mask and placed it on his face. Without the cursed energy of the demonic transfusion he endured being active, the mask remained inert and thus sported no disturbing grin. Simply blank, dark, and strange. She'd be able to see how hard it was for him to breathe, envision the amount of struggle it required for his still near sickly frame to have moved so fast through so much resistance.

With the face he hated so much hidden away, he was able to look at the source of his discontentment. Initially, his eyes had returned to being calm and uninterested but upon soaking up her countenance found himself at a loss for words. His eyes widened, and beneath his mask his lips hung open in confusion and disbelief. It was like the first time he'd met Shiori, a familiar unrest from the girl's eyes, which were more similar to his own than anyone else he'd met. He stared into them shamelessly from across the distance, his own growing glossy with each passing millisecond. Something within him felt as though getting close to her in any form would suck him into her direction like a vortex. Even her wild orange pigtails were contrasting to his medium shaggy and unkempt alabaster mess. The clothing she wore, a bright and more feminine version of his own hooded attire and gear in a very light sense even lacking the shroud. The exception being of course everything of his being the color of shadows and laying on the floor around a soaking boy instead of on his form. He could see the unrest in her, the same unrest they all shared, overflowing from her eyes despite her earlier words.

The girl had come to release something, and prevent it from scorching her heart. He didn't know the details, about what things were weighing on her mind or simply causing her emotions to direct her towards solitude, like he. All he knew was that the sensation made him feel kinship, but his words were never quite there. He had received information on forgotten laws and ancient truths, but he still had no memory and no social rearing. With a quick huff he moved closer to her direction, keeping to the water's edge all the while. As he neared her, he'd swing his right foot into the water for his toe's to kick up water in an attempt to splash it across her face. Instead of stopping there, he let his foot's momentum keep him going into a spin. She'd hear his heavy breathing through the mask, but it didn't slow him down as another graceful kick was sent flying towards her side but at a pace that should allow her to block or dodge with relative ease. He wasn't trying to hurt her, even his eyes showed no malice or ill intent. Maybe it was the red hair that reminded him of Shiori on a subconscious level that made her seem familiar, but that wouldn't account for all the other unfamiliar gingers running about the village.

 

[Muramasa Maya]

Strange; once Azusa made herself known, the pale, fragile-looking boy's demeanor quickly changed to a reaction of pure panic that caused havoc in the otherwise tranquil surface of the undersea. (Should I not have gotten so close? Maybe next time I'll cough or something from further away?) It would have been an amusing scene, had she not felt light guilt over disturbing him.

The priestess-to-be watched as his composure took a turn for the better only when he regained his belongings; specifically, a mask of some sort. Was his reaction because he did not want to be seen for some reason? He didn't seem to be anyone she had seen before, so she would not have recognized him before anyway...And she doubted anyone could be that shy for a reaction like that. Still, the abnormal breathing meant something was not right for him. Perhaps he couldn't swim and panicked when he sank beneath the surface. She would have felt even worse, had that been the case.

....Although any guilt she felt was replaced with irritation; he didn't seem intent on clearing up her confusion, only offering a silent stare at her direction. He seemed confused, almost as if he had seen a ghost; was it that strange for her to have been here? Azusa's eyebrows bent into a scowl as she challenged his own stare with her own.(...I can stare silently too, you know.) She didn't need to feel bad, she was not trespassing. It was not the Diamond district, but she had every right to be here...at least, to her knowledge.

A battle of stares felt like something she could only relate to being observed, like an animal determining whether some new creature was a threat or not. And although she thought as if it were an evaluation of some sort, his eyes weren't quite...there. Glossy, distant, as if he were staring at someone behind here. Azusa's gaze by contrast, were strictly here in the physical sense. His seemed focus on something beyond, even as he decided to approach rather than stay in whatever comfort he felt their shoreline divider offered.

Still, no words were offered as he grew close...only the assault of a splash of water kicked towards her. (!!!) She did gasp in surprise; of course she had asked how the water was like, but...still...quickly going from dry to doused in the midst of a stare battle surprised her, but she wiped her face in time to step back away from the second kick. (Personally, she had been hit by too many slow attacks this week to add another to the list...)

At this point she refused to be the first to speak up, and stuck the tip of her foot beneath the surface of the sand. Just like she challenged his gaze with her own, she mimicked his approach, quickly kicking her buried foot straight up over her head, backflipping herself while launching whatever sand had been on top of it in his general direction. There was no second kick, mostly because she had never done a flip on a shoreline before, and the sand nearly unbalanced her landing...

Instead, she tossed aside her wooden training blade; she felt no malice from the pale kid, and felt no need to hold it since she wanted to challenge him with his own rules. His odd behavior was irritating, but in a fun way that was a welcome change to her previously frustration. Again, she kicked her foot into the sand and threw it towards him. There was no flip, but instead her own slow kick intent on pushing him back towards the water he had approached from.

[MFT]

 

[Takahashi]

[Jukebox Skips - Then Shifts to This]​

The whipping motion of his first kick had been effective, splashing her face while catching her entirely off guard. The momentum from his winding second kick was enough to make the sand around them spread out, but to no effect as she wiped her face just in time to see and avoid it. Coming to a slow halt he'd stand there, right hand raised in guard while the left hung before his chest horizontally. His stance was very loose, and his guard didn't seem to be expecting anything at all. The albino was in clear sight now, skin that was once so thin and pale as to be nearly transparent, now a dim shade of light gray. The bluish gray veins that spread like spiderwebs across his flesh made him seem like someone suffering from mercury poisoning, and his wet, thin, pale strands of hair clung to his face's sides in such a way that'd make him seem nearly bald from a distance.

His dull crimson irises appeared to give off a soft neon-like glow, eyes widening as his pupils shifted towards her toes as they buried themselves in the sand. With a defiant gaze she stared him down, fearless and spirited while fully welcoming Makeinu's challenge. In the blink of an eye sand was kicked into the air and towards his face as retaliation, forcing a slight lean as his right hand was used to shield his eyes. After the stinging shower of sand ceased pelting the back of his hand, he would peer over his knuckles to witness only her graceful ascension's peak and decent landing. Beneath his breathing mask a smile took over his usually rather stoic expression, she was talented, and it showed. She'd see his left brow hike up an inch or so as she tossed the wooden sword to the ground, but it quickly dropped back to position as she made her next move.

Now using both hands to shield his face, his eyes closed as much as they could while remaining open to avoid the second sand shower. Before the grains could stop pelting him this time, he'd feel the sole of her foot as it was thrust towards his chest. Staggering back two steps, he could feel his heel touch the water's edge. His eyes narrowed as concentration became his main focus, steadying himself and pushing forward with his forearms in an attempt to send her back. Opening his guard, he'd sprint forward a short distance and launch himself towards her with a right knee. All the while, his actions remained relatively controlled although quick. With his followup move already in mind, he prepared that from the moment his right foot touched the sands he'd thrust out his left foot in a push mimicking her own. He'd end the combo with a third strike regardless of whether the first two hit or miss, a swift kick from his right that would attempt to push her back towards the shoreline. Their reflections danced with them on the water's surface in the dim lightning. It seemed almost like a mystical ceremony of sorts, isolated and yet seemingly well choreographed.

"You're stronger than ya' look." She'd finally hear his wispy voice say. The raspiness combined with the low volume would make anyone think of dead leaves blowing in the wind, had they ever heard such a thing before. If she was perceptive enough, she might have noticed throughout their little dance that the little finger on his right hand didn't bend much on its own. He was partially crippled, on top of apparently suffering from some sort of illness or deficiency. He'd received a bit of vitality from a ritual performed at the Toraono Dojo, but all that did was prevent him from actually keeling over it seemed. Not that any of that would ever become a public topic for discussion. He had a way of keeping things to himself, even when the price for harboring those secrets was a disintegration of the self it seemed. She came to blow off steam, and he'd already done the same in his own way. It was only fair that he allow the opportunity for release to another in reparation for the opportunity he himself had been blessed with. Sharing what Good you could with the world in whatever way you could, was that not the purpose? He sure had a way of doing it though...

[MFT - WC: 738]

OC: Edited 7/23/15 for lack of personal satisfaction with the previous incarnation. The original WC typed and used for training was 488, to make sure no error within the training system can come from/be exploited by this edit, the WC will be more than the previous which has already been accepted/used in training.

 

[Muramasa Maya]

The ginger-haired priestess grinned when she felt her foot connect against the boy and force him back towards the water's edge successfully, but it was quickly followed up with an audible "...Tsk." Azusa clicked to herself, briefly disappointed; she had expected to hear a splash, but it seemed the boy had managed to support himself before falling into the water. Which came as a surprise to her, considering she didn't seem to gauge her 'opponent' to be that strong. I mean, he was practically skin and bone...

...But no matter, her confident smirk remained.

It just meant she could be abit rougher.

She attempted to lean more of her weight into the kick and knock him into the water, but he managed the strength to push her away, quickly followed by a lunging knee. She put out both her forearms infront of her to catch this with success, but before she could recover he had already followed up by kicking at her similar to how she did earlier, with enough strength behind it to force Azusa back several steps, gritting her teeth.

...Followed by an audible "Guh!", as the sudden force of the albino's kick connected with her side above her waist, forcing her to exhale sharply out of both reflex and surprise. Where up to now movements had been slow, the sudden change of pace between them had very much caught her off guard, and she instinctively hopped away with the momentum of the kick to put distance between her opponent and herself...

...Directly towards the water she intended to push him into. (Damn, he tricked me!) She had lost focus of both him and where they were dueling, letting him force her towards the water rather than the shore...And when she attempted to regain her balance? Had they been on a wooden pier or anything with more solid of a foothold, she would have regained her balance just at the water's edge...but being surprisingly unbalanced in sand despite living in a village with it as its namesake, Azusa's foot slipped from the beach's shifting foothold just as it did earlier (Again?!?) The result;

Splash. Splash. Splash.

She had to take several steps into the water to gain enough balance without falling over, soaking the bottoms of her gi in the process. And to add insult to injury, her opponent claimed she was stronger than she looked. Which was a compliment, sure, but between underestimating him and being unused to balancing in the sand, she had felt cheated. "...Don't give me that. That's what I should be saying to you." The priestess began to show her fiery side, quickly growing irritated over what she felt was her 'loss' in being pushed into the water.

While he had looked like a spirit from afar earlier, up close he had really seemed all the more wraith-like with his willowy figure and malnourished skin. He looked as if he barely had the strength to pull himself out of a hospital bed...or out of a grave. She underestimated him...and could nearly recall hearing one of her shrine's caretakers lecturing her on some sort of idiom along the lines of judging books by their covers. They had plenty of lectures for days.

"You looked like you'd break if I was serious." Unfortunately, she was a sore loser. She wasn't quite so stoic or calm as she was before, nor did she wear her confident smirk; her shoulders quietly rising and sinking with her breaths, not to the extent of her ghoulish opponent, but enough to have uncontrolled breathing. Lowering herself for a brief moment, she dashed through the water towards the albino, fueled by her agitation.

Without any finesse or skill, Azusa had planned on charging the boy before he could regain his breath, to knock him off balance and wrestle him to the ground in a manner much more similar to a playground brawl than a dance between shinobi-in-training. If he wanted to be an outlet for Azusa's irritation, well...he deserved a medal.

[MFT]

 

[Takahashi]

The feeling of his shin sinking into the soft flesh between her ribcage and hip bone was unexpected. It was too late, the chance to pull back just a little bit more had already passed. Something inside him shrank in shame as he witnessed some of the wind being knocked out of her, but it was clear that the exhale was tactical, allowing for the tensing of the abdomen to further endure the blow. He hadn't meant to deliver such a solid strike, though his unsalvageable memories never hinted at such an experience before. Being able to do this, sparring or playing or whatever it was. It was new to him, and he'd gotten carried away.

There was no prideful look of triumph or dominance in his eyes whilst watching her body forcefully jerked aside by the impact. Instead, they'd widen with a somewhat concerned look as he watched her try not to fall. While her landing wasn't perfect, and the bottoms her gi were soaked, at least she didn't hurt herself, landing on her back, neck, ankle, or who knew what else. Strange things seemed to happen around him, or perhaps more to him. He was relieved, but didn't go out of his way to show any signs of such concern for her well-being. No, she was clearly a warrior and what greater dishonor could there be for a warrior than to be shown pity by their adversary?

While initially a blank slate with little more than familiarity with certain words and an extensive vocabulary, he had still been largely ignorant of the world. During his time at the Toraono Dojo, at least during the few days of his consciousness, he proved to be a voracious reader. The topic? Warriors. Mainly because of something Kuro had said to him, calling him a young warrior despite Makeinu himself not understanding the value of the word. It had a sound and resonance to it that he found alluring, and thus buried himself in lore and study of them. He was nothing like the Heroes he'd come across, not in the way they were presented: Handsome, strong, charismatic. However; he did share their beliefs at heart.

His feet were half buried in the sands while the girl responded to his comment, which caused him to laugh just a little. He wasn't oblivious to his own condition nor physical aesthetic, and could sometimes hardly believe it himself when he was able to do something through will. Yet, it was rare for him to think in such a manner. He rarely concerned himself so much with the minor details of how he was going to do something, but what he wanted to do and let his instincts do the rest. He couldn't agree with her more, but as she went further, he felt she was starting to say things that weren't quite necessary. "Hey, now yous wait-!" He started up a retort, his tone raising minutely and an accent of sort began to break through more. The boy's words came to a sudden halt as he realized what she was doing, crouching down and preparing to head his way.

A burning sensation scorched the inside of his lungs, and his throat was dry. Not even a few seconds of extra exertion and he already felt so spent. His muscles weren't used to so much activity nor the ranges of motion he was putting them through on pure whims. They needed to rest a few seconds, but she wasn't having it. She came at him full bore, kicking up water and sand as she closed in on him. The couple of steps he took back were pointless as she collided with him, and the two rolled onto the luckily soft sand. As she tried to wrestle him, he'd continually slip out of one hold only to end up in another and repeat. At some point the two would stop rolling, not far from one of the sun crystals that illuminated the surrounding depths.

She'd manage to get her hands around his small wrists and pin them to the sands. He looked up at her as the light settled on Azusa's countenance, and though he could see the fire in her eyes something else swept him entirely. His body went limp, and his eyes went dull as if suddenly he wasn't having fun anymore. It wasn't that he felt trapped, no, it wouldn't have been much for him to consider hooking her leg with his own and flipping the script. Not that she didn't win of her own accord though. It was a dreadful feeling that started like cold droplets of water atop the heart, spreading frost throughout all the blood vessels and threatening to stop life. There was something wrong, and it wasn't until the image of a girl with long pink hair and piercing blue eyes crossed his mind's eye. It was then his gaze went truly cold.

Her unheard voice carried with it insults, berating his sickly form and making it clear how repulsive he was. He remembered that he was still a nobody, not here in the material realm. Without any delusions about whether or not he was desirable to anyone, save for Shiori as a mere proxy for what she'd lost lifetimes ago, he felt ill. His heartbeat was still racing, and he was sure the same was true for this girl he'd met. Adrenaline was pumping through their systems, and their breathing was a mild symphony of steadying breaths. "Go ahead then, get serious." The same raspy little voice now dry and almost sarcastic. Such a sudden shift in demeanor. "Ain't like I'm scared." He half mumbled. The albino still didn't exude an aura of malice, after all...Ikuko was dead, and it wasn't this girl's fault that he was the way he was. His gaze didn't meet with her's anymore, instead casually lingering towards the distance at nothing elsewhere.

Taking his mind off what he preemptively told himself he'd never have, he would attempt to slip his hands out of her hold and sit up beside the rock without pushing her off. "Where'd you learn ta' fight like that any way? You're good." A topic in which he held more ground, more familiarity with, even if it was simply textbook philosophies and battle hunches. Perhaps the topic brought up would push aside the sudden awkwardness of his internal conflict, perhaps she'd refuse to let it go and inquire. The ball was in her court, for he wasn't used to speaking very much and truly hated the sound of his own voice. He waited for her's to balance it out. She'd never see his lips move, not while they hid behind his secured mask, even if they'd be somewhat close. Only the rattling of his wheezing chest to show he was actually alive and the doubly confirm the source of his voice.

Not wanting to be rude, he didnt shove her off, but did visibly pull away. He was in mild pain due to pushing himself too fast too soon, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue proved that much. Why was it that the bout of self-consciousness he was experiencing outweighed personal injury in his mind? People often had their priorities arranged differently, and in that sense he was no different. He felt a degree of self loathing for being where he was, with whom he was, while Shiori's whereabouts were still unknown and she suffered who knew what else at the hands of the Cabal. What could he do though? Certainly he couldn't fight them if he was heaving so much after dealing with...He didn't even know her name.

All this was assuming she stopped trying to wrestle or perhaps even beat on him. The boy wasn't putting up much resistance at this point. There was no fear in his eyes, not of her power. It was as if suddenly he remembered that she had the capacity to be dangerous and not just someone to play with. In the Shinobi world, what was he doing playing around with someone who might kill him one day? He didn't regret doing it, but the uncertainty of it all was disheartening.

 

[Muramasa Maya]

Success; she saw him back away, but it only delayed her charge by a fraction of a second. Before he had a chance to back away, Azusa was able to pull him down to the ground and challenge him to a wrestling match of endurance. She was no master in holds and grabs, but given her opponent was near exhausted, she didn't require much skill outside of out enduring him.

Once resistance in the albino's movements suddenly ceased, the ginger priestess loosened her own hold. "Ha...ha....Pinned ya..." Azusa claimed, now out of breath herself, but not to the point where she didn't have a triumphant smirk upon her face. However pointless it may have been to wrestle with someone who seemed to need some kind of breathing apparatus. It was a small sense of superiority she could latch onto amidst the sea of shortcomings she carried.

But more importantly, her smirk was just one of having carefree fun. She knew that her lessons were meant to train her, meant to improve her...but with her days being full of having her actions constantly scrutinized and faults pointed out day in and day out, it felt immensely refreshing to just casually wrestle and pay no mind to lessons or being trained on what was the 'proper' way. There was no right or wrong to their brief skirmish. Y'know, aside from getting into it with someone who may or may not be crippled in the first place...

Alas, she didn't actually want things to get 'serious' or anything, having only spoken taunts much quicker than her mind could restrain herself. So when the kid's demeanor became disinterested and 'empty', her own excitement began to dim. Besides, she had what she felt was her 'win' and also wanted to catch her breath. "....Maybe later. When you...I mean when we both are less tired..." She tried to spot-correct her phrasing in a less hostile manner....Apologies were difficult for her.

On the flip side, taking compliments was very easy to her! "...Ha....ha..That was just instinct, I guess..." Azusa replied. Truthfully, it was just her brute forcing her way through something, tossing aside anything she had been taught..."...If my clan ever saw me fighting that way, they'd probably spend a week explaining what the 'proper' way I 'should' be fighting is..." Another smile full of shameless rebelliousness crept across her face. "They say that since I'm going to be heir to my clan's shrine, I should be 'ladylike' and 'graceful'...I think its bull. Fighting is fighting...haha.."

Who knows how long Azusa would have kept her 'triumphant' pin on him had he not made the effort to back away, giving her the reminder to let go and back away herself, pushing herself away and sitting upon the sand. "...But that was pretty fun. I never fought with anyone like that, but...You're gonna be fine right? I wouldn't want to get in trouble if you got hurt or anything..." She questioned his constitution rather bluntly. To her defense, she had never seen anyone with a mask similar to his, outside of knowing they could be used in gaseous environments. And it didn't seem as if his demeanor quite recovered once he went 'cold', exactly.

[MFT]

 

[Takahashi]

In celebration of my finding the feline contract, and Azusa defeating/pinning Makeinu.​

After pulling away, there was a feeling of regret that washed over him for a moment. The warmth of her touch faded, reminding him that it was an alien feeling and one he'd encounter sparsely if much more in his future. It brought memories of the warmth he felt from Shiori as she carried him from the Obsidian Palace, broken and slumbering in her arms. There was a gentleness even in her rough play that made it evident she too meant him no more harm than he did her. He was observant enough to tell that he'd worn her down quite a bit as well, and he didn't need her to openly admit it in order to feel a small sense of worth.

He thought about her answer, Instinct, as well as the other details that followed. Instinct was something he could relate to, a ghost without a past and only the aches of his subconscious to guide him. The fact that she was part of a clan didn't surprise him at all, having taken notice of how well-kept she seemed despite her wild demeanor and arcing pigtails. An affluent lineage with demanding forefathers, it all reminded him of a story he once read, but when? As she carried on, declaring more or less that she'd enjoyed herself a feeling of satisfaction spread through his core. His brow hiked much like it did before as she asked about his health, most likely feigning confusion as to why anyone would ask about his health. "Hurt me? Listen, I might look like this, but I got a lot more to me than you'd think."

It wouldn't have taken much for her to have caused him some sort of damage, but it was also true that there was far more than met the eye when it came to him. "Besides, I ain't got no clan that's gunna' come afta' yous ova' me. I ain't no big shot." Maybe Shiori, Sousuke, Kuro and others did care but their hands were entirely too full. The village was falling apart and trying to rebuild at the same time. Enemies were taking advantage of all exposed weaknesses and trying to put an end to a dynasty, but when the dynasty was built upon a lie was that wrong? Not that Makeinu knew such things, but he was far closer to the truth that most by mere proximity. His tone showed no resentment for his lacking a formal house, instead boasting mild pride in it. "For what it's worth, screw what your folks think."

Though not as relaxed as he'd been during their little combat session, his demeanor was warming up to her again. Determined to keep her at arm's length, the magnetism felt earlier refused to go away and so he tortured himself a bit more. "The only 'proper' way ta fight is ta not lose." His eyes avoided her's but seemed comfortable as they lazily lingered upon the sands. He focused on controlling his breathing while they chatted, and the rise and fall of his shoulders would become steady over time. "You already got grace, wit' that back flip thing ya' did earlier. From what I could see anyhow." He'd mime a gesture as if shielding his eyes to illustrate his point. The compliment managed to fight its way through all his reservations. Looking up at her, but more from the corner of his eyes he shrugged. He'd make sure not to sweeten the compliment too much with any doe-eyed gestures. As a matter of fact, he seemed aloof albeit mildly standoffish.

 

[Takahashi]

Commatic silence gracelessly hovered between the two youths for a moment. Makeinu, beneath his mask found himself chewing the inside of his cheek just to release some sort of motion. He couldn't remember having given anyone a compliment, although he was sure he had at some point in the life he had lost to amnesia. It made him feel awkward, the assumptions that she'd assume something else from his words screamed in his ear silently. "Don't get me wrong. Grace won't stop ya' from eatin' dirt, or nappin' in it." Whether he fully supported that statement or not didn't matter, it definitely threw a little salt to bring things back to a comfortable level of rivalry friction.

"Oi-" He started, leaning forward and crawling onto his feet steadily. "I gotta' go." His solemn tone lingered on the last word for a moment while he took a couple steps forward. "If you ever need to hit somethin', I can take a beatin' if you're willin' to get kicked around some more." A hand slipped into his pocket while the other waved shortly. He'd sprint towards his clothing, scooping them up and with a few hops over here and there, she'd see him headed in the direction of the Toraono Dojo itself. This late in the night- It would be obvious that he either stayed there or had some connection to the place. Disappearing into structure, it would only dawn on him in separation that- He hadn't given her his name. Nor had he received her's. Such things weren't that important, were they?

[Leaving Topic]
[D-Rank | 4 Hours (240 Minutes) to leave topic.]​

WC: 261
MFT