Practiced with a wooden training sword that he was more than familiar with, it was an entirely new and refreshing, even exciting experience to hold an actual sword in his hands. However, it was not just a typical, mundane sword despite its appearance that suggested just that. It was a sword forged with spirit; literally.
“I imagine you’re happy now, eh,” Ryuji stated to the slightly dimming environment around him as the sun threatened to dip its proverbial feet beneath the encroaching horizon. He was in his own company, so onlookers could only hear a very one-sided conversation - if a conversation were to happen at all.
That placid expression he wore the majority of the time remained present. There was hardly a difference between his usual expression and this one here; this one that he wore while practicing forms and performing certain swings and combinations. It was a face he wore when he slipped into another world all together; one nigh timeless and requiring what appeared to be a meditative state of mind. It was how he remained so practiced. His lazing around allowed him to happen upon a lazing mind, trance-like, and for long stretches of time, he performed what he was taught from memory - muscle memory at that point, and only stopped when muscle aches and hunger, of course, took over.
Hunger was amazing at distracting him and bringing him reeling back to reality.
“...The sun’s down already?” he asked as he looked to the horizon. He wondered when that had happened, but noticed a tired body and urge to consume a large quantity of food. “Dad’s probably wondering where I am. Headin’ in…” Sheathing his sword, he made his way home.
WC: 284
“I imagine you’re happy now, eh,” Ryuji stated to the slightly dimming environment around him as the sun threatened to dip its proverbial feet beneath the encroaching horizon. He was in his own company, so onlookers could only hear a very one-sided conversation - if a conversation were to happen at all.
That placid expression he wore the majority of the time remained present. There was hardly a difference between his usual expression and this one here; this one that he wore while practicing forms and performing certain swings and combinations. It was a face he wore when he slipped into another world all together; one nigh timeless and requiring what appeared to be a meditative state of mind. It was how he remained so practiced. His lazing around allowed him to happen upon a lazing mind, trance-like, and for long stretches of time, he performed what he was taught from memory - muscle memory at that point, and only stopped when muscle aches and hunger, of course, took over.
Hunger was amazing at distracting him and bringing him reeling back to reality.
“...The sun’s down already?” he asked as he looked to the horizon. He wondered when that had happened, but noticed a tired body and urge to consume a large quantity of food. “Dad’s probably wondering where I am. Headin’ in…” Sheathing his sword, he made his way home.
WC: 284