"And you say that I'm the sleepyhead," Sora joked, greeting his friend with a wry grin as he jolted awake.
The younger boy had seen Riku dozing off in the middle of the field from a long way off, and so he was careful in sneaking over quietly. Sora had planned on scaring his friend into waking up, but by the time he had leaned over to shout, "BOO!" it was too late. He missed his chance, but there would always be next time.
"I thought you wanted to spar, not take a nap." The keyblade was held in Sora's right hand, casually slung over his shoulder as if it were the wooden sword from back home.
Riku hissed in surprise and fell back down again, and in disbelief at his own reactions, just laughed. "Jeez, Sora," he managed after a moment. "I definitely can't go back sleep after waking up to that hair..." His grin came easier now, despite this being only the first or second time he'd really met Sora face to face since... since back then.
Riku hopped to his feet. "You'd better hope you still know how to use that thing," he warned, reaching out and summoning his own bipolar blade.
Some things never really change. And Riku was comforted by that-- for once.
Sora huffed at the comment about his hair. What was wrong with it? Riku was just jealous he could never get his own hair to spike properly. (At least, that's what the younger teen usually told himself.)
"I sure do!" And with that, Sora took a couple running steps back, leaving space between the two of them before getting into his usual battle stance. "I'm more worried about you getting rusty, not me."
What was the score again? He couldn't remember, but whatever it was, he was going to even it out.
Riku had been the winner, or at least he thought he was; some vague memory of Sora falling into the water at the base of the paopu island fluttered to the surface and fled. He took a step or two back for himself and assumed what could only be the laziest battle stance ever, but strangely effective for a one-handed blade.
"Me? Rusty? I had to fight one of the old members of the Organization when you weren't around," he said with a wry grin of his own. "Not to mention a flood of green terriers, man-eating shadow dogs, and Leon... Yeah, I think I've been keeping up juuuust fine." He tilted his head back a little, giving Sora a sort of cocky look, though his eyes were mostly hidden by his bangs.
"Knowing you, you've spent the past couple of weeks sitting around eating ice cream and running around barefoot. Not exactly sparring material, in my opinion. Well, that's just fine." He half-crouched now, ready to move at any moment. "Show me what you've got!"
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The younger boy had seen Riku dozing off in the middle of the field from a long way off, and so he was careful in sneaking over quietly. Sora had planned on scaring his friend into waking up, but by the time he had leaned over to shout, "BOO!" it was too late. He missed his chance, but there would always be next time.
"I thought you wanted to spar, not take a nap." The keyblade was held in Sora's right hand, casually slung over his shoulder as if it were the wooden sword from back home.
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Riku hopped to his feet. "You'd better hope you still know how to use that thing," he warned, reaching out and summoning his own bipolar blade.
Some things never really change. And Riku was comforted by that-- for once.
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"I sure do!" And with that, Sora took a couple running steps back, leaving space between the two of them before getting into his usual battle stance. "I'm more worried about you getting rusty, not me."
What was the score again? He couldn't remember, but whatever it was, he was going to even it out.
Reply
"Me? Rusty? I had to fight one of the old members of the Organization when you weren't around," he said with a wry grin of his own. "Not to mention a flood of green terriers, man-eating shadow dogs, and Leon... Yeah, I think I've been keeping up juuuust fine." He tilted his head back a little, giving Sora a sort of cocky look, though his eyes were mostly hidden by his bangs.
"Knowing you, you've spent the past couple of weeks sitting around eating ice cream and running around barefoot. Not exactly sparring material, in my opinion. Well, that's just fine." He half-crouched now, ready to move at any moment. "Show me what you've got!"
Reply
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