And all of a sudden...
Characters: Samehada (kisameisafish) and Daitou (coughcoughshank)
Date/Time: Sunday 21st, afternoon.
Location: The Dojo
Rating: PG 13 for possible language and nudity
Summary: It's sparring time: Daitou has a few questions. Samehada may have a few answers, but that doesn't mean he's going to tell.
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The expectant silence of a warm, early spring afternoon was broken only by the sound of metal on metal - the clash of blades followed by the crack of a wooden neck being severed as Samehada's most recent sparring partner made easy meat of one of the training dummies.
Samehada, for his part, was sitting on the steps of the dojo. One sneaker-clad foot was firmly planted on the ground below and the other two steps above, leg bent and elbow resting on his knee. It was cooler there, out of the sun, and the soft breeze dried off the sheen of sweat that covered his bared torso. In his left hand he held a kunai - which was the current focus of his attention - held slightly aloft such that the sun glittered along the edge, satisfying him that it concealed no flaws.
He laughed - a sardonic chuckle that was nevertheless genuine - and there was a brief show of teeth in Daitou's direction as the dummy collapsed to the ground with what almost sounded like a disappointed sigh.
"Don't kill them all, Daitou-san. They take a while to mend, and I might want to amuse myself some more, later."
As if to illustrate the words, he flipped the kunai up in his hand, pulling his arm back in a fluid movement before driving it forward, releasing the blade with a flick of the wrist. Its trajectory carried it in a perfect, smooth line that was abruptly broken when it embedded itself in one of the tall, wooden posts that the lawyer guy was so fond of sparring with.
"There's iced tea, if you want it."
It was less an invitation than a statement of fact. Tea served intentionally cold was a concept that Samehada had found amusing, when he first heard of it. But once he had been persuaded to try it, he had grudgingly acknowledged that it tasted pretty good on a warm day - and it was a convenient and welcome change from plain water after a spar. Briefly, he imagined Crow's - Itachi's - likely response to the idea of tea served ice-cold, and that thought brought another, brief smirk with it.
Date/Time: Sunday 21st, afternoon.
Location: The Dojo
Rating: PG 13 for possible language and nudity
Summary: It's sparring time: Daitou has a few questions. Samehada may have a few answers, but that doesn't mean he's going to tell.
------
The expectant silence of a warm, early spring afternoon was broken only by the sound of metal on metal - the clash of blades followed by the crack of a wooden neck being severed as Samehada's most recent sparring partner made easy meat of one of the training dummies.
Samehada, for his part, was sitting on the steps of the dojo. One sneaker-clad foot was firmly planted on the ground below and the other two steps above, leg bent and elbow resting on his knee. It was cooler there, out of the sun, and the soft breeze dried off the sheen of sweat that covered his bared torso. In his left hand he held a kunai - which was the current focus of his attention - held slightly aloft such that the sun glittered along the edge, satisfying him that it concealed no flaws.
He laughed - a sardonic chuckle that was nevertheless genuine - and there was a brief show of teeth in Daitou's direction as the dummy collapsed to the ground with what almost sounded like a disappointed sigh.
"Don't kill them all, Daitou-san. They take a while to mend, and I might want to amuse myself some more, later."
As if to illustrate the words, he flipped the kunai up in his hand, pulling his arm back in a fluid movement before driving it forward, releasing the blade with a flick of the wrist. Its trajectory carried it in a perfect, smooth line that was abruptly broken when it embedded itself in one of the tall, wooden posts that the lawyer guy was so fond of sparring with.
"There's iced tea, if you want it."
It was less an invitation than a statement of fact. Tea served intentionally cold was a concept that Samehada had found amusing, when he first heard of it. But once he had been persuaded to try it, he had grudgingly acknowledged that it tasted pretty good on a warm day - and it was a convenient and welcome change from plain water after a spar. Briefly, he imagined Crow's - Itachi's - likely response to the idea of tea served ice-cold, and that thought brought another, brief smirk with it.