LOG: Oishi & Kite
Who: Oishi Syuichiroh, Kite Eishirou
Rating: PG
When: Backdated to right after Halloween.
Where: The beach
Summary: Kite starts Oishi’s training in the martial arts. Oishi learns Kite has a rather...hand’s on approach
Comments: Go for it.
He wondered once again why he had agreed to this. A part of him was glad that Oishi had pretty much asked to learn, but another part of him was reluctant to teach. Because that small part of him, a part he tried very hard not to acknowledge wanted to be the one to protect the medic. He couldn’t very well be the strong protector once Oishi learned to protect himself. But sensibility won over sentimentality. Eventually, they would find a way off this island. Eventually, Oishi would be in a situation where Kite wasn’t there to fight the good fight.
He wondered how much the medic knew. He knew Oishi was athletic. You couldn’t play tennis as well as the doubles player if you weren’t. So that wasn’t an issue. But he was well aware that the other boy was a little squeamish. He was also aware that he was…well…gentle. Delicate even. He wondered just how much of an amateur he was going to be dealing with here. And he hoped to all that he held holy that he didn’t end up inadvertently hurting Oishi anyway. He knew he wasn’t very good at keeping on a pair of kids gloves and he had never gone easy on anyone. In all, it was going to be a challenge. But one he was definitely looking forward to. He had even selected a more private area on the beach, away from the shelters. There was no need for an audience.
There, he waited for his student to show up. While he waited, he did his usual stretching routine. One that had him bending in ways most people just didn’t bend. He was halfway through when he heard the sound of footsteps on the sand.
Oishi had ran from the camp to where Kite had suggested they train, taking a longer route than was necessary to ensure he had warmed up. The idea of spending that morning hitting someone was not very appealing. The idea of spending that morning hitting Kite was even less so, partly because no one sane would hit the Okinawan and partly because Oishi in particular didn’t like the idea of hurting Kite. Everything about the man’s manner and posture said he had been hurt enough for one lifetime. After watching ‘Scream’ on youtube though, Oishi knew he should learn some basic hand-to-hand techniques. Especially near Halloween. Especially near Halloween and Niou. He consoled himself that the chances of him inflicting damage were low; it was far more likely he would wake up in his own infirmary a week next Thursday. That was ... reassuring.
As he approached the place Kite had mentioned, he slowed, looking around for the tall fighter. He saw him stretching on the sand and mentally prayed that getting his leg into such a position was not part of the training. Or the result of the fight. Stepping away from the tree-line so Kite could clearly see him approach, Oishi walked up to his assistant and smiled.
“Hi,” he said. “Thanks again for this.”
He returned to both legs and stood to greet the medic. He was glad Oishi had remembered. It was best to approach the Okinawan from where he could see. He didn’t react kindly to people who snuck up behind him. He almost smiled at the other teen. Almost. He could almost taste Oishi’s reluctance. He wondered if he was going to corrupt this pure boy. Or perhaps it would be Oishi that healed him. A thought for another time.
Kite adjusted his arm guard and nodded towards the other. “I’m surprised you actually showed up. Not many would be brave enough to stand here with me knowing who I am.” And what he did. “And I’m glad you did.” It meant that maybe, just maybe, it was okay to trust Oishi. It was okay to open up to him more. It was okay...to be human.
“And now, I want you to do something for me.” He backed off just a little, going backwards with the same ease as it was to move forward. “I want you to hit me. I want you to hit me, as hard as you can. I’m attacking you. I’m attacking you and I’m about to do bad horrible things to you... You’ve got one shot. Lay it on me, Oishi.” It wasn’t because he was a masochist. Well, not completely. He just needed to see where Oishi was in terms of form and power. He needed to gage just how much of the basics he needed to teach. He was sure that he could dodge whatever came at him.
Oishi smiled, “You keep saying that, Kite, but I keep showing you I’m not going to just abandon you. You’ve never given me the slightest reason to.”
At Kite’s next command however, Oishi balked. That was, it made sense ... but ... just hit Kite? For no reason? Why would anyone do that? He took a step forward awkwardly and then stopped. “Does it matter where?” he asked, hesitantly.
Kite thought that smile was a rather potent weapon all on it’s own. Perhaps because people didn’t smile much around him. Plus there was the sentiment behind it. Oishi knew. He had been there when Seigaku and discovered Higa abandoned and trying to make their way home. They had still been rivals at the time. Enemies, and he didn’t blame them for not wanting Higa around...even if he had gone about trying to get a place and food for his boys the wrong way. It was simply a rule of life he had learned the hard way. If you wanted or needed something, you didn’t ask. You took it. Like he had taken back his team’s dignity from that man.
He sighed softly at the way Oishi hesitated. In that moment, he moved. He was suddenly in front of the other, his fist hovering just an inch from Oishi’s nose. But instead of completing that punch, he extended a finger and lightly poked the teen in the forehead. “You can’t hesitate. Hesitation is your enemy. The more you hesitate, the more time your attacker has to hurt you. That is lesson one.” He backed away again and looked at him.
“Now... Strike. It doesn’t matter where. I promise I can take it.”
Green eyes crossed as Oishi focused on the finger poking him in the forehead. He swallowed and nodded, indicating that he had understood Kite’s point. Looking down, Oishi took a deep breath. It was no different from tennis; no different from hitting a ball or driving an attack away from his doubles partner, and he’d done both often enough.
He looked up, focused on Kite’s midriff, and punched. Precision was Oishi’s talent. In tennis, it allowed a ball hit from the back of the court to drop onto the opposite baseline. Here, it prevented him swinging wildly and instead allowed his arm to take the most direct route to its target. It also allowed him to know he could stop, as Kite had, an inch short if necessary.
Keen eyes from behind glasses followed the movement. It was smooth. It was direct. There was no loss of energy. There was no pause. It was like tennis. Natural. Kite felt relief.He didn’t have to teach Oishi to punch. Or make a fist. He probably would have called it a day if the other teen hadn’t known how to at least do that. But this...This he could work with. Which was why, instead of dodging, he stepped into the punch, hand already down to catch it.
Catch, wrap, side step. It was like dancing, only without music and with pain and not poetry in mind. Only there was no pain. He simply deflected and then side stepped, so that his back was against that outstretched arm and his own heavily calloused hand was wrapped around the one that healed. He didn’t let himself notice how warm it felt in his grasp. He also didn’t realize he kept hold long after he should have let go.
“Excellent.” He praised. “I should have let it hit me, to judge your power, but I think for now, we’ll work on technique. Power comes later.” Fingertips ghosted over those knuckles before he let go. “Now...” He approached. “As a medic, you above all, should know where a person is most vulnerable. When your life in in danger...you don’t think nice. Dirty. Dirty and underhanded. It’s you or them. Let it be you. So...hit where you know it’ll count.” His hand stretched out towards the other teen so he could brush his fingers over the places best to hit. “Face, throat, below the ribcage, kidneys...” He stopped right above the belt line. “Groin...though that’s better as kick....” He wondered if Oishi was following him. “I’m sure you know of more vulnerable places. Your knowledge of the human body is your power.”
“Um,” Oishi’s hand was still outstretched where Kite had been holding it. He hurriedly pulled it back and then promptly went cross-eyed again as a hand touched his face and neck before dropping to his torso. “Right...” he mentally shook himself, forcing his mind back onto the lesson. He needed this. Hadn’t two hours of ‘Scream’ taught him anything?!
“Those places, Kite,” his brow furrowed in concern, “I could do permanent damage. The transplant list is long enough without me adding another kidney patient to it!” He had dedicated his life to learning to heal the human body. Could he really turn that knowledge to against it?
He sighed softly and started to circle around the other teen. It was almost like a shark going slowly around an injured fish. “That’s rather the point.” He stated almost coldly. “You see...when you are being attacked by someone, it’s you or it’s him.” He closed in and ever so lightly placed a hand on the other boy’s shoulder. “And I want it to be you. I would rather you walk away and keep helping others rather then end up cold and lifeless in some alley because you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt someone.” It was the softest he had ever been with anyone and he felt a bit awkward about it.
“It’s like this.” He flanked Oishi, standing right next to him. “I don’t care what I do. So long as I walk away. I will do whatever it takes so that I can go home at the end of the day. So when that attacker comes after me, he won’t know what hit him.” Which was part of the reason he wore his hair in a traditional yankee bruiser style. So that punks and lowlifes knew that it was a very bad idea to go after him. “And I won’t hold back either. A kick to the head.” He did a kick so high that it was nearly over Kite’s own head. “A punch to the throat.” His fist flashed forward a if striking something fleshy. “Whatever it takes because I want to be the one that goes home at the end of the attack. And you....you can’t help people if you are hurt. You’d said that to me enough times.”
He paused and almost smiled. “But since you can’t seem to fathom the idea of hitting me...we can do shadow boxing. I’ll show you how to hit in a small space and how to get out of a hold. But we’re going to have to work at your pacifism.” Not that he minded. It was actually....really...attractive, he supposed.
Oishi knew he was right. If it came to it, and only if it came to it, he needed to able to disable someone. After all, it might not be him who needed the protection. It might be Echizen or Eiji or his sister. It might even be Kite if he got hurt badly enough. What use was he wading into a fight at present.
He turned to Kite which brought him almost body to body with the man; they had been standing that close. Oishi paused, his breath catching in his throat, before taking half a step back. “We don’t need to shadow box,” he said firmly. “I can manage, really.”
A smile. Slow, but there. Kite was smiling at Oishi. “If you’re sure about that.” He honestly thought that Oishi would be pretty good at this self-preservation thing once he got into it. He just needed the right sort of encouragement. “Then, I supposed we can begin again. Don’t worry. I’ll deflect anything that comes my way.” Which was something else he needed Oishi to learn. How to dodge. Later. So much to learn, but things they could work on later. “Now....where was I. Right. Hit them where it counts. And come at them where they are most vulnerable. For instance, a man with glasses.” He adjusted his own. “You’d knock them off so he couldn’t see as well. Though,” He paused and even laughed a little. “That won’t work on me. I’ve trained myself to fight without them, just in case that would happen to me.”
He retured to his own starting position. “Now, you have precision. You just can’t stop. You have tp punch through the person. And for you...use your skills and your tennis.” He had turned martial arts into tennis, why not the other way around. “Think about it. Your Moon Volley is like an uppercut.” He nodded. “So...Give me your Moon Volley.” He would make sure to dodge that one because he had a feeling that one would hurt.
Oishi set his jaw. Just think of your sister, he told himself silently. One day she could be Sidney Prescott.
He moved his right fist through and up in a single motion, aiming for Kite’s chin. Reassured by the other’s confidence, he trusted that punch to be blocked, coming up instead with his second fist into Kite’s diaphragm. This second strike was with his left hand and it would not be as hard; it would not need to be. A punch in the diaphragm would produce a reflex reaction to double and retch, as any person familiar with the human anatomy would know.
-He did indeed block the first punch. It was easy to block when he knew it was coming. The other strike, he wasn’t expecting at all. He didn’t dodge, he didn’t block. That punch landed just where Oishi had aimed. And though human anatomy was what it was, this was Kite. And punching Kite in the gut was like punching a wiry wall of brick. He didn’t double over. He had been in too many fights to do that. He just let out a rush of air to prove that yes he had been hit and yes it did hurt a little, but he could endure it without an issue. The hardest part was forcing himself not to hit back.
“Brilliant move.” He praised. “Distract and redirect.” He lightly rubbed the spot where he had been struck. “But you need to learn to be strong with both hands. I might be a lefty, but I can hit just as hard with my right. Then again, part of my art, I punched through cement blocks and boards until my knuckles built up resistance to it.” Because to master Okinawan bujutsu, one had to first suffer. “I won’t make you do that though.” He promised before returning to Oishi’s side to take his hand again. “Now...let me show you something else...When I hit someone, I often don’t make a fist. You have more surface area with an open palm.” With almost gentle fingers, he started to try and get that healing hand into the proper position for palm strikes.
Oishi watched his hands being rearranged, relieved that he had not hurt the other man. As Kite’s hand slid into his own, he automatically wrapped his fingers around his palm, distracted by the touch. He looked up into the angular face above him and coloured. “Sorry,” he mumbled hastily and moved to straighten his hand again.
It would have so easy to let himself be distracted. He wondered if it was because he had been alone on this island for so long. He doubted it. He supposed it was because he trusted Oishi. Trusted him enough to admit that he suffered nightmares. Enough to let the other examine him, even if he utterly refused to tell him where certain scars that adorned his body came from. Enough to stand there and let himself be hit without fighting back. Plus, Oishi’s hand was warm. He liked warmth.
Shaking his head to clear that thought, the tanned teen muttered back. “It’s nothing to apologize for.” Once he had rearranged, he lightly trailed his fingers over the largest part of the palm. “This is where you strike. When you hit...” He took the hand and pressed it against his sternum. “It feels like that.” He hoped his heart wasn’t beating too quickly from this strange closeness he felt. He doubted he could explain it to the medic.
“That feels good ... uh, right,” Oishi corrected, his cheeks flushing red as he looked at his hand pushed against Kite’s chest. He took his hand away and pushed it back, not using any force but concentrating on making sure the right part of his palm made contact first. “Doesn’t that give me less force if my hand it more spread out?”
Kite shrugged a little. It did feel okay. It was where it needed to be. He watched the other attempt it again. There was no power behind the blow. None at all. He knew that Oishi could give it more. It was part of the reason that it seemed there was less force. “It depends on just how hard you hit. You have to hit with all your strength, like this.” He reminded. Without thinking, he demonstrated, just as he would have with any of his Higa. Some said the one inch punch was a myth. It was not. In that one inch space, his hand had flashed and connected right against Oishi’s chest with enough power to knock a man like Sanada on his ass. He hadn’t realized he had done it until he had done it.
Oishi flew. Later, he would be surprised that he had not reached the lifeguard vessels that had been circling a mile out from the island, Kite had hit him so hard. Instead, he smacked into the solid trunk of a palm tree and slid to its sandy base with a thump. It was lucky the tree was so far back. If he had slammed into a nearer obstacle, his spine might have broken. As it was, day became a night filled with shooting stars.
“I’m .... ok.” He had no idea if Kite was close or even if it was the same week. On the off-chance that one of those two facts was true, he attempted to sound reassuring.
He realized only after he saw the medic slamming against the tree what he had done. He stood there only a moment. It was like when he played tennis. One minute he was on the sand on the beach, the next, he was right next to Oishi. He had broken his promise. He had sworn he wouldn’t hurt Oishi and here he had sent the other boy flying.
Kite knelt down and tried hard not to look as worried as he actually felt. Or as guilty. His hands were just gently shaking as they ghosted over the other’s head and his back, trying to make sure he hadn’t severely injured him. “Oishi.... Oishi...are you sure? How many? Tell me how many fingers I’m holding up.” He held up two while his other hand kept running softly over the other’s frame searching for the proof that he had gone too far.
What was going on? Kite sounded completely panicked. Something terrible must surely have happened. Perhaps everyone on the island had been eaten by a giant sea monster called Karupin ... that seemed the sort of thing .... except Oishi doubted Kite would sound so concerned if that was the case. Hurriedly, he tried to sit up which resulted in the world turning upside down. Leaning over, he retched against the sand and then looked up into Kite’s face. “How many sea monsters?” he asked, struggling to clarify the question.
It was official. He had hit Oishi a little too hard. He almost felt sick about that. It was strange. He had never felt that way about anyone else he had ever hurt. There was something that made him a bit nauseous when it came the the realization that he had just sent Oishi on a one way trip via Kite Air. He knew that meant that the session was over. He didn’t trust himself to continue. Not after using the one inch punch on him. “Fingers. How many fingers am I holding up. There are no sea monsters here. Just me.” He held up three this time. “I need to know that I didn’t give you a concussion. I need to know that I didn’t break your chest...or your back...” He swallowed a little. “I need to know I didn’t just screw over this entire island by putting you out of commission.”
Oishi blinked several times. No sea monsters? He lifted a hand to his face and rubbed it. I get knocked into a tree and Tooyama appears in my head, he thought. He looked up at Kite’s pained expression and then at his hand.
“Three fingers,” he said decidedly. “No sea monsters. And it was just a bump, Kite, you don’t need to be so worried.” He smiled and tried to stand. He managed it, just. “I’m not as breakable as you believe.”
The medic was getting back on his feat. Kite didn’t know if he was relieved or not. He wanted to tell the other teen to sit back down, immediately. But he supposed that concern was just Oishi’s own habits rubbing off on him. He was sure that had he been the one in that position, the result would have been just that. Oishi telling him to stay down and Kite utterly ignoring his orders. He vaguely wondered when this role reversal had happened. So he let Oishi be and just grumbled under his breath in the traditional language of Okinawa, so that Oishi wouldn’t understand that he was actually pretty worried and that he was a little angry at himself for what had happened.
When he was done, he just scanned the other. “I’m sure you aren’t. You couldn’t play tennis is you were made of glass... However, I had made a promise to you that I wouldn’t hurt you and that I would go easy on you. I try very hard to keep my promises, but it seems going easy on anyone is just not in my nature. With that in mind, are you positive you want to continue?” He would leave it up to Oishi. He knew however, that if the other did, there would be no more lessons on striking. Perhaps, he would move on to holds.
“There’s different types of hurting, Kite,” Oishi slid fingers along his own skull and neck to check there wasn’t a bruise he had not initially felt. “People can get accidentally bruised in all sports. It’s totally different from someone being responsible for the injury.” His head felt fine and he stretched back and up, ensuring all was well.
“I want to continue,” he told Kite firmly. “If I feel unwell, I’ll let you know and we can take a break. Agreed?”
Kite felt a small relief. Even more than that, he felt a bit more respect towards the medic. He could count the number of people who would have manned up enough to continue after a blow like that on two hands. There was a tough side to the gentle teen that appealed to the Okinawan just as much as the more genteel side did. He almost smiled at the conviction. Almost. Instead, he mulled over the suggestion. “Agreed. If you start to feel unwell, I won’t make you continue.” Something that had never been a option for himself. No matter how hurt you were, you kept going. But he wasn’t going to return to punches. Not yet at least.
“All right. Strikes are good and all, if the attacker is in front of you. What would happen if he came from behind?” Even as he said that, he was using that land reduction technique of his to go from in front of to behind Oishi. It was almost as if he had teleported, just as he had been moving all day. “What if he grabbed you.” As one who demonstrated by showing, his strong arms automatically wrapped about the medic and pulled that lean body close to his, in an iron hold. “How can you punch me now? You need to get out. Try to get out.” He would let Oishi try on his own before he showed a few tricks for getting out of a submission hold.
Oishi blinked and Kite vanished from his sight to reappear, as the very real arms testified, to behind him. Experimentally he pushed his arms out but nothing happened in response to the muscle flex; Kite held him fast.
Well, if he couldn’t break out, the next obvious option was to slide out. Oishi dropped, trying to take Kite by surprise and use gravity to simply pop out from under his grasp. What he didn’t count on was how tightly he was being held. As he pulled down, he ended up pushing still harder against the torso pressed to his own, sliding body-to-body in an extremely tight configuration.
He tried to pretend that that didn’t feel good to him. He couldn’t help it. Kite was as much a red blooded male as much as the next guy. So when the medic squirmed against him, he had to fight every instinct in his body not to react to it. He had a lot of willpower to do so. Because the more the other moved, the harder it was getting to ignore. But he couldn’t react because he had a lesson to finish teaching, no matter how badly he did just want to stand there, just like that.
He was sure his voice was a little deeper and growly but he hoped for all that was holy that it wasn’t. “That right there is a good idea. Anyone weak enough would probably drop you for being dead weight.” He kept his hold and if he had been in the city, he might have turned Oishi and pressed him against some wall. A thought that was too suggestive for it’s own good. Kite had to do something before his mind ran away with him again. “Remember what I told you before about weak spots. Like this, the instep, the knee.” He paused. “If you can manage to turn, a knee to the groin...which I hope you won’t consider since I’m rather attatched to that area. Also, you’re tall enough. The back of your head is harder than the front of my face. A headbutt. It’s not nice, but nice isn’t what you care about right now. Right now, you care about getting away.” But even as he was making those suggestion, he had rested his chin in the junction between shoulder and neck so he could talk calmly into Oishi’s ear.
Oishi leaned back into the grip as Kite’s head came down on his collarbone. Knee, groin, head. He had it. His eyes closed briefly and then snapped them back open as he remembered this was a practical lesson, not a fireside chitchat. There was also the problem that despite Kite’s instructions, it wasn’t obvious how to maneuver enough to so much as tap the body that held him. He turned his head to point this out and promptly brushed nose and lips across Kite cheek. He froze, his breath ghosting across the strong jaw line as whatever comment he was about to make was driven straight out of his mind.
His initial thoughts were something between That’s nice, soft and what the....it has to be a mistake...he’d never... Kite went with the last option. As nice as it had felt at that awkward moment, he knew deep down that it had to be a mistake. No one willingly kissed him. Oshitari had...it had been his hand and he had decked the romantic for it... but that didn’t count because there had been a bet going on about kissing the refugees between two tensais. For a moment, he didn’t know how to react. His initial thought was to throw Oishi as far as he could. A smaller, quieter urge told him to stay right there and enjoy it. He ignored both. Instead, his arms loosened immediately and he stepped back, letting Oishi go completely.
Kite was glad his tan was so dark. He didn’t blush at least, but he was sure he looked awkward as he felt. Hastily, he adjusted his glasses and fought his baser instincts in order to return to his usual self. “Yes...well, that’s one way to get them to let go...” He used every ounce of will power he possessed not to touch the spot like some girl. “Now...would you like to try that again?” He didn’t even know which he was refurring to. Escaping...or the kiss. He wished he did.
Oh god. Kite thought .... well he had .... but not intentionally ..... did Kite think that it was on purpose? .... was he angry about that? ..... if Oshitari found out about this his life was over. Oishi fumbled to regain the power of speech so that he could assure Kite that it was just due to their position and not that he would ever .... at least not without .... it was maybe better he did not talk.
Oishi swallowed. Twice. Three times and cleared his throat. “I just wanted to point out that I couldn’t kick or hit you anywhere,” he said to his knees. “You had me helpless.”
The awkward silence seemed to come from the other party as well. Kite was secretly glad that he wasn’t the only one who had been shocked by that. But that also meant it had been a mistake. A part of him...was actually saddened at the idea that it hadn’t been on purpose. He stomped that down with a vengence. Instead, he approached the other teen and nodded. “There is where you are wrong. There were ways to move, even held like that. You are far from helpless.” He stood before Oishi and ran a hand though his hair. It calmed him a little. “Would you like to see? You can go and hold me the way I held you and I’ll show you just how you can get out.” He hoped that by switching roles, it wouldn’t be as awkward.
That sounded good. Not least because it meant Oishi had an excuse to stand behind Kite and not meet his eyes. Nodding in agreement, he stepped around the tall Okinawan and wrapped his arms around him, trying to resist the urge to rest his face against his back. “I’m not holding too tight, am I?” he asked, anxiously. He didn’t think he could easily hurt Kite accidentally, but it would be a terrible mistake to make.
Ignore it. Ignore how nice that felt. It was a distraction. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea after all to suggest this switch. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and realized, like this, he’d have to make an excuse for it. “Well, first, don’t panic. Someone just grabbed you...you can hold tighter if you want. Take a few breaths. Calm yourself so you can think straight.” He rests a hand onto the other teens arm. Even in the sun, he could see the difference in his tan to Oishi’s. Oishi needed to get outside more often. The sunlight would be good for him.
“Now, I need to get away. So I need to make you let go of me.” His hand slid over the arm to lightly rest against fingers. Fingers that did more for this island than his ever would. “I could break these and you’d let go. Or....” One foot slid backwards and slid against Oishi’s instep. “Or I could take your foot out from under you. You’d fall and take me with you...but you’d let me go.” There were a few other things he could do that he had learned from fighting in mixed martial arts tournaments. But he wasn’t about to throw Oishi again. “You see...there’s ways to get out, no matter how hard the other holds on to you.” Still, he’d made no move to actually break the old Oishi had. He was happy just standing there and lightly showing him without the added pain involved in the real thing.
“Ah.” Oishi did not move, listening to Kite’s voice as the fingers brushed lightly over his arm. It was a comfortable, relaxed position. They could just stay like this discussing fighting .... except he really was supposed to be paying attention! Heaven help him, Kite was going to think he was the worst student he’d ever had and walk out in disgust.
Rapidly, Oishi searched his mind for the last points Kite had made. Sweep the feet out. With a sudden movement, he twisted his ankle, letting his foot sweep out from in between Kite’s in a quick chopping motion.
Kite had godlike balance. He had always had it. Thus knocking him off his feet was quite a feat. It usually only happened when he was not on guard. Like right at that moment. He was explaining another way of his getting out of Oishi’s grip when the other suddenly pulled the tripping move he had talked about just a moment easily. Caught completely unaware, his footing was taken right out from under him. He was falling. He was falling and he was taking Oishi with him, just like he had said would happen.
Only he wouldn’t let it. He wouldn’t let Oishi take the brunt of the fall. A twist of his body and he was half under the other when he collided with the sand. He felt the abrasive scrape up his arm and when he blinked, nothing was coming into focus. Meaning the fall had knocked his glasses away. That didn’t matter though. Not yet. While his mind was still registering that this was supposed to hurt, he was already focusing on the one who had made him eat sand... His training kicked in and he was moving. So quick. One minute he was under Oishi, the next he was on the medic, pinning him to the sand, almost nose to nose with him so he could see him clearly.
“You know.” He stated. “The attacker isn’t supposed to do the leg sweeps.” He blinked, realizing what sort of position they were in, but did not move off the other teen. Instead, he remained right there and continued. “Were you hurt in the fall?” He already found it easy to ignore the small trickle down his arm.
Pinned down in the sand, Oishi looked up, green eyes inches from the sharp ones above him. Some form of explanation would probably have been appropriate at such a stage, but Oishi could think of none. The only thought that passed through his mind was that he had never seen Kite without his glasses before. The lack of the wire frames softened the features of his face as the small flicker of surprise fluttered across the stern features. “Kite....” His breath ghosted uncertainly across the other’s neck.
They were just so close. It wouldn’t have been a stretch to get even closer. Later, he decided, he was going to do something about these thoughts he was having. Perhaps beat his head against a wall until he shut that voice up that whispered that it would be okay to do something bold, like kiss Oishi. The excuse that Oishi had done it first was not a good excuse at all, and really Kite hated excuses. But it was so tempting. He felt a husking breath against his neck and he started to push himself up and off of Oishi so he could sit up as well. He even offered a hand, only to finally notice the beads of red dripping slowly.
He shook his head and laughed to himself. Only he would get himself injured trying to train an amateur. He should have never let his guard down. Amateurs were the most dangerous of opponents. He had let Oishi disarm his natural wariness and distrust. Oishi’s greatest weapon had been used against him and he had let it. It was the funniest thing he had heard all week really. “Well,” He maanged through a small chuckle. “I think you understand that technique and it’s usefulness now. Can you help me find my glasses?” Because sometimes, he felt that he needed glasses just to find them.
Kite was hurt. Oishi had been lying there thinking about ... about .... NOT about that his stunt had wounded his instructor. Scrambling to his feet, Oishi took Kite’s arm and examined the cut. It was shallow, but such wounds were liable to become infected. It needed to be washed.
Looking around, Oishi spied a flash of light from Kite’s glasses and plucked them from the sand, placing them in Kite’s good hand. “Let’s wash that in the sea,” his voice took on an unusually firm quality. It might have been his fault that his assistant’s arm was scraped and bloody, but he was not about to let it rot off to boot.
The tougher teen accepted his glasses and put them back over his eyes. It was nice to be able to see again. His first clear sight was of Oishi frowning at his arm. He looked to the side and shrugged. Without hesitation, he pulled his shirt off. He knew he was very built. He also knew that Oishi already knew about his scars. So in general, he didn’t care if the other saw them again in the bright light of the day instead of the dim lights of the cave during his last check up. Silently he wrapped the wound with his shirt. “I’ll be fine.” He stated, brushing the wound off as he had brushed off the large cut he had made on himself when he had been learning from Oishi. “I don’t think the lesson is over yet.” He didn’t want it to be. He didn’t want it to end with Oishi knocking him on his ass like that. His pride wouldn’t allow it.
Oishi’s next comment caught his in throat as the midday sun threw Kite’s scarred torso into brilliant illumination. Without thinking, he stretched out a hand to place it over a particularly vicious slice across the rib cage. The wound had been jagged and it didn’t look like Kite had bothered with proper stitches. “I can teach you to minimise these in future,” he said distractedly, as his eyes slid over the other knobbly lines. Almost immediately, he felt like smacking his forehead. Clearly, he had been around Kite too long when his thoughts focused on scar treatment rather than injury prevention.
Turning back to the current cut, he shook his head at the rough bandage. “Your top wasn’t clean,” he said firmly. “Sometimes you have to make do, but this isn’t one of those times.” He looked towards the ocean. “Isn’t there something you can teach me about fighting in water that would let us wash out that cut at the same time?” Meek and mild though he was, Oishi could be stubborn too. Especially about wounds.
Fingertips touched raised flesh and Kite found the words falling from his lips. “I gave Tanishi my favorite short ribs when he was being forced to diet. I was caught. The Shinai broke instead of my own ribs. I had a match three days later. Stitches were not an option.” And every last one of them had a story like that. Punishment from his coach. Fights with American soldiers who didn’t know how to respect the Okinawan people and their customs. Bar fights with punks. Mixed martial arts bouts. The ship fire. It reminded him just how differently he lived from Oishi. It reminded him that he did know 30 ways to kill a man with his bare hands and Oishi...Oishi was a medic.
So, when he was asked about water fighting, he could only say one thing. “I would drown you.” It was as simple as that. Water was his element as much as land was. “But since I know you...I know you will just keep at me until I do it...So I’ll cut to the chase and I’ll show you why I’d drown you.” With that, he started off towards the ocean, letting the the gentle soul he was growing so fond of come along if he wanted.
Oishi apparently could not resist the offer of being drowned by someone he had, despite the last few hours instruction, no hope of fending off. He followed Kite, pulling off his own shirt and dunking it into the salty water as they reached the ocean edge. Tugging Kite’s make-shift bandage away from his cut, he gently cleaned away the blood before washing it out once more in the ocean and then tying it securely around the arm.
The Okinawan’s first thought was that Oishi needed sunscreen. His second was that tennis had been kind to the other teen. Oishi didn’t look anything like him, but he was still pleanty nice to look at. And look he did. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, head turned just slightly so it was clear and not the hazy vision on his periferals. He stood there, knee deep in the ocean and let the other work, not even wincing when the salt got into the wound. After, he would have to keep an eye out for sharks. They’d be able to smell the blood in the water. Though in this shallow of a place, only the smaller ones.....or more desperate ones... would come looking.
Bandaged by Oishi’s shirt, Kite muttered a soft thank you before slipping his glasses off and placing them very securely into a pocket. He did not want to be losing them in the ocean. “All right then...” Then Kite was gone. Even shallow, he was already under the water, knowing that Oishi’s speed would be greatly hindered while his swimming speed would give him the advantage enough to get behind him. His plan was simple. Just pull Oishi down into the water. No drowning. Just a playful dunking, like he would with any of his teammates.
Oishi blinked as Kite vanished before him .... then he grinned. Possibly the expression was inappropriate during a fighting lesson, but they had inadvertently walked right into one of Oishi’s strengths. Dropping, Oishi also sank beneath the water, strong arms and legs used to just this kind of exercise pulling him around in a tight circle to hunt for his would-be attacker. The prey was attempting to turn predator.
Kite hadn’t the slightest idea that he was up against one that enjoyed swimming. He found out quickly though, when Oishi wasn’t where Oishi as supposed to be. It would seem that he had found himself a fellow shark. And Nurse Sharks could be just as dangerous as Tigers given the right situations. In a way, it made this even more fun. He hadn’t had a good playful swim with anyone in a long while. It was nice to splash around in the water after a nice hard spar. He still attempted to grab the other as they circled. As he did, he realized he had sort of needed this. Some time just to have fun. He was willing to bet that it was the same for Oishi.
The sunlight penetrated the ocean water in distorted twinkles as green eyes squinted for movement that did not belong to the currents. His hands brushed along the sandy ground as he tethered himself briefly to see .... there! Pushing forward, Oishi caught Kite between the legs, using the water’s buoyancy to lift the other of his shoulders.
Kite was lighter than expected, even in the water. He made a rather loud surprised sound when Oishi got under him and he popped out of the water. Automatically, he grabbed on, back bowing backwards. If he was going to go, he was taking Oishi with him. He couldn’t help it. He found himself laughing out loud. Laughing, even though he was injured, even though his hair was down, he was laughing because he was having fun.
The sound of Kite’s laughter surprised Oishi so much that he promptly took in a mouthful of salty sea water. He spluttered, rolled and toppled them in a mass of legs and arms. Grinning, he caught his breath, pulling a strand of sea weed from his head as he righted himself.
He was smiling brilliantly. Laughing as well. Sitting chest deep in the water and trying to push his hair out of his face. His other hand moved over the water to splash at Oishi. “I told you.” He teased. “I told you I’d end up drowning you.” Because his gentle medic had ended up swallowing water. He didn’t realize how closely they were still twined together. His fingers just moved to lightly stroke over Oishi’s shoulder. “You had seaweed there too.”
“As do you,” Oishi pulled at the strands that had draped themselves over Kite’s head like an overly fashionable hat. He wondered if the other knew exactly how different he looked at present; face relaxed and merry, long strands of dark seaweed softening the chiseled features of his face.
Laughing at the ridiculous way the plant strands draped over Kite’s head, Oishi suddenly became conscious of how close they were standing. He could pick out different flecks of colour in the intense gaze on his own, the way the light bounced from the water to dance along the damp skin. The laughter stopped as he instinctively place a palm on the chest in front of him.
“This?” He asked, picking up another bit of seaweed. “Didn’t you know. Seaweed hats are the latest in fashion accessories. I’m thinking of getting a really nasty soaking lot of them and dumping them on a few heads.” Because even Kite could show his annoyance for others in ways that didn’t involve him putting them into bodily harm. His laughter didn’t fade until he felt the hand against his chest. Then it stopped and he was hyperly aware of Oishi right there in front of him. His own hand went over the one that seemed just so pale against his darker skin. “Oishi...” He started and then decided not to ask, but to say something else completely. “You need to do things like this more often. I’ve never seen you so relaxed and at peace. So...apprentice's orders. You have to go out and go swimming at least once a week.” Because Kite was concerned about the stress getting to the other teen. Even if he had no room to talk when it came to being high strung.
“Seaweed contains …..” Oishi was about to list a dozen ways in which seaweed hats would lead to sickness, fever and probable death when a new thought occurred to him:
Stuff it.
Besides, maybe one of the hats would go on Oshitari’s head. That would be quite amusing. His smile broadened at the command that he swim more regularly. “Since we are on an island, that does make sense,” he agreed. “But you should too. The exercise in anaerobic, it’s some of the best you can get, it’s ….”
The only time I’ve seen you smile.
“.... something I can beat you at,” he added instead, the smile flecked with a more mischievous undertone.
The Okinawan was almost ready to be told why he couldn’t go around putting seaweed where it didn’t belong. He would have happily argued that people ate it and that it was healthy. But it would seem he didn’t have to. He had not gotten a lecture. He wondered in a way why he was a little disappointed by that. He hated lectures...A lot. But he supposed from Oishi, he put up with them better. He didn’t feel the nagging need to punch him in the face and storm away.
Instead, he nodded and dropped his hand so that it no longer trapped Oishi’s against his chest. “I happen to swim every day.” He informed. But never for fun. He usually did it with a harpoon or a spear or a net in one hand in order to make a catch that would be one of his meals. “I surf here too.” Well, not here. The waves were far better on the other side of the island. But it didn’t change the fact that the medic added that last part.
Being as competitive as he was, Kite did not like to lose at anything. He did take it a lot better than he had in the past though. So instead of being angry with himself for letting a mainlander beat him at something, he merely reached up and patted Oishi on the cheek. “It seems so. You’d make a good Okinawan, if you weren’t so pale.” It was the best compliment he could ever give a person. “Maybe...” He mused a little, more to himself than to Oishi, “Maybe once we get off here, you’ll come down and visit...if you’re not sick of islands by that point.” Though after he said it, he didn’t know what he had been thinking. There was a better chance of a white Christmas on the island than for Oishi to come and visit him in Naha or anywhere else. Oishi had a life outside of this island, just as he did and he was not going to kid himself and imagine impossible things.
Oishi examined his skin. It was true that he was not tanning well. Perhaps he should leave the infirmary cave more often. Kite at least did not seem to burn; that was one worry from his mind. He really ought to track down Echizen and Tooyama and cover them in sunblock. Neither of them were trustworthy in that regard.
“I would love to visit you when we get home,” he said with such a genuine tone that Kite could not think it was just politeness. He looked up across the beach to where the thin coil of smoke marked the settlements. “It might actually be quieter.” A muscle his in jaw twitched at the thought of Inui and Yanagi’s ridiculous questioning.
Oishi was willing to visit him. It was a warming thought that his company might still be welcome even after they were no longer forced to be together. He didn’t doubt it either. He would just have to make sure that his friend never saw him in any bouts. He was sure the medic would never let him enter the ring again if he saw just how much punishment he took...and how much more he gave in return. He nodded at the other sentiment. “It is a lot quieter in this place.” Though Okinawan were a loud group in general, they were no where near as loud or nosy as some of this island’s inhabitants. “I’ll give you my number...In fact, I’ll give it to you as soon as we’re done here and go back to your cave. That way you can call me if you really need me.” And if Oishi called, it wouldn’t matter what he was doing. Kite was going to come running.
Oishi smiled. “We’ll exchange,” he promised. He looked across at the ocean which now reflected the sun as it became low in the sky. “Will you take me through those punch again briefly before we end? I’d like to be able to practise them alone.”
Kite nodded. He would definitely put that number into his phone. But for now, they had had their fun and it was bad to the serious work. “It’s no problem. I can run you through them as many times as you need. Only this time, I’ll show you how to shadow box so you can do it by yourself.” He thought staying in the water might help. Build up some resistance. He just sloshed to Oishi’s side and stood shoulder to should with him. “You ready for this? We’ll do simple forms, like you did before until your ready to make the step up.” And he was definitely looking forward to more of these lessons.
Rating: PG
When: Backdated to right after Halloween.
Where: The beach
Summary: Kite starts Oishi’s training in the martial arts. Oishi learns Kite has a rather...hand’s on approach
Comments: Go for it.
He wondered once again why he had agreed to this. A part of him was glad that Oishi had pretty much asked to learn, but another part of him was reluctant to teach. Because that small part of him, a part he tried very hard not to acknowledge wanted to be the one to protect the medic. He couldn’t very well be the strong protector once Oishi learned to protect himself. But sensibility won over sentimentality. Eventually, they would find a way off this island. Eventually, Oishi would be in a situation where Kite wasn’t there to fight the good fight.
He wondered how much the medic knew. He knew Oishi was athletic. You couldn’t play tennis as well as the doubles player if you weren’t. So that wasn’t an issue. But he was well aware that the other boy was a little squeamish. He was also aware that he was…well…gentle. Delicate even. He wondered just how much of an amateur he was going to be dealing with here. And he hoped to all that he held holy that he didn’t end up inadvertently hurting Oishi anyway. He knew he wasn’t very good at keeping on a pair of kids gloves and he had never gone easy on anyone. In all, it was going to be a challenge. But one he was definitely looking forward to. He had even selected a more private area on the beach, away from the shelters. There was no need for an audience.
There, he waited for his student to show up. While he waited, he did his usual stretching routine. One that had him bending in ways most people just didn’t bend. He was halfway through when he heard the sound of footsteps on the sand.
Oishi had ran from the camp to where Kite had suggested they train, taking a longer route than was necessary to ensure he had warmed up. The idea of spending that morning hitting someone was not very appealing. The idea of spending that morning hitting Kite was even less so, partly because no one sane would hit the Okinawan and partly because Oishi in particular didn’t like the idea of hurting Kite. Everything about the man’s manner and posture said he had been hurt enough for one lifetime. After watching ‘Scream’ on youtube though, Oishi knew he should learn some basic hand-to-hand techniques. Especially near Halloween. Especially near Halloween and Niou. He consoled himself that the chances of him inflicting damage were low; it was far more likely he would wake up in his own infirmary a week next Thursday. That was ... reassuring.
As he approached the place Kite had mentioned, he slowed, looking around for the tall fighter. He saw him stretching on the sand and mentally prayed that getting his leg into such a position was not part of the training. Or the result of the fight. Stepping away from the tree-line so Kite could clearly see him approach, Oishi walked up to his assistant and smiled.
“Hi,” he said. “Thanks again for this.”
He returned to both legs and stood to greet the medic. He was glad Oishi had remembered. It was best to approach the Okinawan from where he could see. He didn’t react kindly to people who snuck up behind him. He almost smiled at the other teen. Almost. He could almost taste Oishi’s reluctance. He wondered if he was going to corrupt this pure boy. Or perhaps it would be Oishi that healed him. A thought for another time.
Kite adjusted his arm guard and nodded towards the other. “I’m surprised you actually showed up. Not many would be brave enough to stand here with me knowing who I am.” And what he did. “And I’m glad you did.” It meant that maybe, just maybe, it was okay to trust Oishi. It was okay to open up to him more. It was okay...to be human.
“And now, I want you to do something for me.” He backed off just a little, going backwards with the same ease as it was to move forward. “I want you to hit me. I want you to hit me, as hard as you can. I’m attacking you. I’m attacking you and I’m about to do bad horrible things to you... You’ve got one shot. Lay it on me, Oishi.” It wasn’t because he was a masochist. Well, not completely. He just needed to see where Oishi was in terms of form and power. He needed to gage just how much of the basics he needed to teach. He was sure that he could dodge whatever came at him.
Oishi smiled, “You keep saying that, Kite, but I keep showing you I’m not going to just abandon you. You’ve never given me the slightest reason to.”
At Kite’s next command however, Oishi balked. That was, it made sense ... but ... just hit Kite? For no reason? Why would anyone do that? He took a step forward awkwardly and then stopped. “Does it matter where?” he asked, hesitantly.
Kite thought that smile was a rather potent weapon all on it’s own. Perhaps because people didn’t smile much around him. Plus there was the sentiment behind it. Oishi knew. He had been there when Seigaku and discovered Higa abandoned and trying to make their way home. They had still been rivals at the time. Enemies, and he didn’t blame them for not wanting Higa around...even if he had gone about trying to get a place and food for his boys the wrong way. It was simply a rule of life he had learned the hard way. If you wanted or needed something, you didn’t ask. You took it. Like he had taken back his team’s dignity from that man.
He sighed softly at the way Oishi hesitated. In that moment, he moved. He was suddenly in front of the other, his fist hovering just an inch from Oishi’s nose. But instead of completing that punch, he extended a finger and lightly poked the teen in the forehead. “You can’t hesitate. Hesitation is your enemy. The more you hesitate, the more time your attacker has to hurt you. That is lesson one.” He backed away again and looked at him.
“Now... Strike. It doesn’t matter where. I promise I can take it.”
Green eyes crossed as Oishi focused on the finger poking him in the forehead. He swallowed and nodded, indicating that he had understood Kite’s point. Looking down, Oishi took a deep breath. It was no different from tennis; no different from hitting a ball or driving an attack away from his doubles partner, and he’d done both often enough.
He looked up, focused on Kite’s midriff, and punched. Precision was Oishi’s talent. In tennis, it allowed a ball hit from the back of the court to drop onto the opposite baseline. Here, it prevented him swinging wildly and instead allowed his arm to take the most direct route to its target. It also allowed him to know he could stop, as Kite had, an inch short if necessary.
Keen eyes from behind glasses followed the movement. It was smooth. It was direct. There was no loss of energy. There was no pause. It was like tennis. Natural. Kite felt relief.He didn’t have to teach Oishi to punch. Or make a fist. He probably would have called it a day if the other teen hadn’t known how to at least do that. But this...This he could work with. Which was why, instead of dodging, he stepped into the punch, hand already down to catch it.
Catch, wrap, side step. It was like dancing, only without music and with pain and not poetry in mind. Only there was no pain. He simply deflected and then side stepped, so that his back was against that outstretched arm and his own heavily calloused hand was wrapped around the one that healed. He didn’t let himself notice how warm it felt in his grasp. He also didn’t realize he kept hold long after he should have let go.
“Excellent.” He praised. “I should have let it hit me, to judge your power, but I think for now, we’ll work on technique. Power comes later.” Fingertips ghosted over those knuckles before he let go. “Now...” He approached. “As a medic, you above all, should know where a person is most vulnerable. When your life in in danger...you don’t think nice. Dirty. Dirty and underhanded. It’s you or them. Let it be you. So...hit where you know it’ll count.” His hand stretched out towards the other teen so he could brush his fingers over the places best to hit. “Face, throat, below the ribcage, kidneys...” He stopped right above the belt line. “Groin...though that’s better as kick....” He wondered if Oishi was following him. “I’m sure you know of more vulnerable places. Your knowledge of the human body is your power.”
“Um,” Oishi’s hand was still outstretched where Kite had been holding it. He hurriedly pulled it back and then promptly went cross-eyed again as a hand touched his face and neck before dropping to his torso. “Right...” he mentally shook himself, forcing his mind back onto the lesson. He needed this. Hadn’t two hours of ‘Scream’ taught him anything?!
“Those places, Kite,” his brow furrowed in concern, “I could do permanent damage. The transplant list is long enough without me adding another kidney patient to it!” He had dedicated his life to learning to heal the human body. Could he really turn that knowledge to against it?
He sighed softly and started to circle around the other teen. It was almost like a shark going slowly around an injured fish. “That’s rather the point.” He stated almost coldly. “You see...when you are being attacked by someone, it’s you or it’s him.” He closed in and ever so lightly placed a hand on the other boy’s shoulder. “And I want it to be you. I would rather you walk away and keep helping others rather then end up cold and lifeless in some alley because you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt someone.” It was the softest he had ever been with anyone and he felt a bit awkward about it.
“It’s like this.” He flanked Oishi, standing right next to him. “I don’t care what I do. So long as I walk away. I will do whatever it takes so that I can go home at the end of the day. So when that attacker comes after me, he won’t know what hit him.” Which was part of the reason he wore his hair in a traditional yankee bruiser style. So that punks and lowlifes knew that it was a very bad idea to go after him. “And I won’t hold back either. A kick to the head.” He did a kick so high that it was nearly over Kite’s own head. “A punch to the throat.” His fist flashed forward a if striking something fleshy. “Whatever it takes because I want to be the one that goes home at the end of the attack. And you....you can’t help people if you are hurt. You’d said that to me enough times.”
He paused and almost smiled. “But since you can’t seem to fathom the idea of hitting me...we can do shadow boxing. I’ll show you how to hit in a small space and how to get out of a hold. But we’re going to have to work at your pacifism.” Not that he minded. It was actually....really...attractive, he supposed.
Oishi knew he was right. If it came to it, and only if it came to it, he needed to able to disable someone. After all, it might not be him who needed the protection. It might be Echizen or Eiji or his sister. It might even be Kite if he got hurt badly enough. What use was he wading into a fight at present.
He turned to Kite which brought him almost body to body with the man; they had been standing that close. Oishi paused, his breath catching in his throat, before taking half a step back. “We don’t need to shadow box,” he said firmly. “I can manage, really.”
A smile. Slow, but there. Kite was smiling at Oishi. “If you’re sure about that.” He honestly thought that Oishi would be pretty good at this self-preservation thing once he got into it. He just needed the right sort of encouragement. “Then, I supposed we can begin again. Don’t worry. I’ll deflect anything that comes my way.” Which was something else he needed Oishi to learn. How to dodge. Later. So much to learn, but things they could work on later. “Now....where was I. Right. Hit them where it counts. And come at them where they are most vulnerable. For instance, a man with glasses.” He adjusted his own. “You’d knock them off so he couldn’t see as well. Though,” He paused and even laughed a little. “That won’t work on me. I’ve trained myself to fight without them, just in case that would happen to me.”
He retured to his own starting position. “Now, you have precision. You just can’t stop. You have tp punch through the person. And for you...use your skills and your tennis.” He had turned martial arts into tennis, why not the other way around. “Think about it. Your Moon Volley is like an uppercut.” He nodded. “So...Give me your Moon Volley.” He would make sure to dodge that one because he had a feeling that one would hurt.
Oishi set his jaw. Just think of your sister, he told himself silently. One day she could be Sidney Prescott.
He moved his right fist through and up in a single motion, aiming for Kite’s chin. Reassured by the other’s confidence, he trusted that punch to be blocked, coming up instead with his second fist into Kite’s diaphragm. This second strike was with his left hand and it would not be as hard; it would not need to be. A punch in the diaphragm would produce a reflex reaction to double and retch, as any person familiar with the human anatomy would know.
-He did indeed block the first punch. It was easy to block when he knew it was coming. The other strike, he wasn’t expecting at all. He didn’t dodge, he didn’t block. That punch landed just where Oishi had aimed. And though human anatomy was what it was, this was Kite. And punching Kite in the gut was like punching a wiry wall of brick. He didn’t double over. He had been in too many fights to do that. He just let out a rush of air to prove that yes he had been hit and yes it did hurt a little, but he could endure it without an issue. The hardest part was forcing himself not to hit back.
“Brilliant move.” He praised. “Distract and redirect.” He lightly rubbed the spot where he had been struck. “But you need to learn to be strong with both hands. I might be a lefty, but I can hit just as hard with my right. Then again, part of my art, I punched through cement blocks and boards until my knuckles built up resistance to it.” Because to master Okinawan bujutsu, one had to first suffer. “I won’t make you do that though.” He promised before returning to Oishi’s side to take his hand again. “Now...let me show you something else...When I hit someone, I often don’t make a fist. You have more surface area with an open palm.” With almost gentle fingers, he started to try and get that healing hand into the proper position for palm strikes.
Oishi watched his hands being rearranged, relieved that he had not hurt the other man. As Kite’s hand slid into his own, he automatically wrapped his fingers around his palm, distracted by the touch. He looked up into the angular face above him and coloured. “Sorry,” he mumbled hastily and moved to straighten his hand again.
It would have so easy to let himself be distracted. He wondered if it was because he had been alone on this island for so long. He doubted it. He supposed it was because he trusted Oishi. Trusted him enough to admit that he suffered nightmares. Enough to let the other examine him, even if he utterly refused to tell him where certain scars that adorned his body came from. Enough to stand there and let himself be hit without fighting back. Plus, Oishi’s hand was warm. He liked warmth.
Shaking his head to clear that thought, the tanned teen muttered back. “It’s nothing to apologize for.” Once he had rearranged, he lightly trailed his fingers over the largest part of the palm. “This is where you strike. When you hit...” He took the hand and pressed it against his sternum. “It feels like that.” He hoped his heart wasn’t beating too quickly from this strange closeness he felt. He doubted he could explain it to the medic.
“That feels good ... uh, right,” Oishi corrected, his cheeks flushing red as he looked at his hand pushed against Kite’s chest. He took his hand away and pushed it back, not using any force but concentrating on making sure the right part of his palm made contact first. “Doesn’t that give me less force if my hand it more spread out?”
Kite shrugged a little. It did feel okay. It was where it needed to be. He watched the other attempt it again. There was no power behind the blow. None at all. He knew that Oishi could give it more. It was part of the reason that it seemed there was less force. “It depends on just how hard you hit. You have to hit with all your strength, like this.” He reminded. Without thinking, he demonstrated, just as he would have with any of his Higa. Some said the one inch punch was a myth. It was not. In that one inch space, his hand had flashed and connected right against Oishi’s chest with enough power to knock a man like Sanada on his ass. He hadn’t realized he had done it until he had done it.
Oishi flew. Later, he would be surprised that he had not reached the lifeguard vessels that had been circling a mile out from the island, Kite had hit him so hard. Instead, he smacked into the solid trunk of a palm tree and slid to its sandy base with a thump. It was lucky the tree was so far back. If he had slammed into a nearer obstacle, his spine might have broken. As it was, day became a night filled with shooting stars.
“I’m .... ok.” He had no idea if Kite was close or even if it was the same week. On the off-chance that one of those two facts was true, he attempted to sound reassuring.
He realized only after he saw the medic slamming against the tree what he had done. He stood there only a moment. It was like when he played tennis. One minute he was on the sand on the beach, the next, he was right next to Oishi. He had broken his promise. He had sworn he wouldn’t hurt Oishi and here he had sent the other boy flying.
Kite knelt down and tried hard not to look as worried as he actually felt. Or as guilty. His hands were just gently shaking as they ghosted over the other’s head and his back, trying to make sure he hadn’t severely injured him. “Oishi.... Oishi...are you sure? How many? Tell me how many fingers I’m holding up.” He held up two while his other hand kept running softly over the other’s frame searching for the proof that he had gone too far.
What was going on? Kite sounded completely panicked. Something terrible must surely have happened. Perhaps everyone on the island had been eaten by a giant sea monster called Karupin ... that seemed the sort of thing .... except Oishi doubted Kite would sound so concerned if that was the case. Hurriedly, he tried to sit up which resulted in the world turning upside down. Leaning over, he retched against the sand and then looked up into Kite’s face. “How many sea monsters?” he asked, struggling to clarify the question.
It was official. He had hit Oishi a little too hard. He almost felt sick about that. It was strange. He had never felt that way about anyone else he had ever hurt. There was something that made him a bit nauseous when it came the the realization that he had just sent Oishi on a one way trip via Kite Air. He knew that meant that the session was over. He didn’t trust himself to continue. Not after using the one inch punch on him. “Fingers. How many fingers am I holding up. There are no sea monsters here. Just me.” He held up three this time. “I need to know that I didn’t give you a concussion. I need to know that I didn’t break your chest...or your back...” He swallowed a little. “I need to know I didn’t just screw over this entire island by putting you out of commission.”
Oishi blinked several times. No sea monsters? He lifted a hand to his face and rubbed it. I get knocked into a tree and Tooyama appears in my head, he thought. He looked up at Kite’s pained expression and then at his hand.
“Three fingers,” he said decidedly. “No sea monsters. And it was just a bump, Kite, you don’t need to be so worried.” He smiled and tried to stand. He managed it, just. “I’m not as breakable as you believe.”
The medic was getting back on his feat. Kite didn’t know if he was relieved or not. He wanted to tell the other teen to sit back down, immediately. But he supposed that concern was just Oishi’s own habits rubbing off on him. He was sure that had he been the one in that position, the result would have been just that. Oishi telling him to stay down and Kite utterly ignoring his orders. He vaguely wondered when this role reversal had happened. So he let Oishi be and just grumbled under his breath in the traditional language of Okinawa, so that Oishi wouldn’t understand that he was actually pretty worried and that he was a little angry at himself for what had happened.
When he was done, he just scanned the other. “I’m sure you aren’t. You couldn’t play tennis is you were made of glass... However, I had made a promise to you that I wouldn’t hurt you and that I would go easy on you. I try very hard to keep my promises, but it seems going easy on anyone is just not in my nature. With that in mind, are you positive you want to continue?” He would leave it up to Oishi. He knew however, that if the other did, there would be no more lessons on striking. Perhaps, he would move on to holds.
“There’s different types of hurting, Kite,” Oishi slid fingers along his own skull and neck to check there wasn’t a bruise he had not initially felt. “People can get accidentally bruised in all sports. It’s totally different from someone being responsible for the injury.” His head felt fine and he stretched back and up, ensuring all was well.
“I want to continue,” he told Kite firmly. “If I feel unwell, I’ll let you know and we can take a break. Agreed?”
Kite felt a small relief. Even more than that, he felt a bit more respect towards the medic. He could count the number of people who would have manned up enough to continue after a blow like that on two hands. There was a tough side to the gentle teen that appealed to the Okinawan just as much as the more genteel side did. He almost smiled at the conviction. Almost. Instead, he mulled over the suggestion. “Agreed. If you start to feel unwell, I won’t make you continue.” Something that had never been a option for himself. No matter how hurt you were, you kept going. But he wasn’t going to return to punches. Not yet at least.
“All right. Strikes are good and all, if the attacker is in front of you. What would happen if he came from behind?” Even as he said that, he was using that land reduction technique of his to go from in front of to behind Oishi. It was almost as if he had teleported, just as he had been moving all day. “What if he grabbed you.” As one who demonstrated by showing, his strong arms automatically wrapped about the medic and pulled that lean body close to his, in an iron hold. “How can you punch me now? You need to get out. Try to get out.” He would let Oishi try on his own before he showed a few tricks for getting out of a submission hold.
Oishi blinked and Kite vanished from his sight to reappear, as the very real arms testified, to behind him. Experimentally he pushed his arms out but nothing happened in response to the muscle flex; Kite held him fast.
Well, if he couldn’t break out, the next obvious option was to slide out. Oishi dropped, trying to take Kite by surprise and use gravity to simply pop out from under his grasp. What he didn’t count on was how tightly he was being held. As he pulled down, he ended up pushing still harder against the torso pressed to his own, sliding body-to-body in an extremely tight configuration.
He tried to pretend that that didn’t feel good to him. He couldn’t help it. Kite was as much a red blooded male as much as the next guy. So when the medic squirmed against him, he had to fight every instinct in his body not to react to it. He had a lot of willpower to do so. Because the more the other moved, the harder it was getting to ignore. But he couldn’t react because he had a lesson to finish teaching, no matter how badly he did just want to stand there, just like that.
He was sure his voice was a little deeper and growly but he hoped for all that was holy that it wasn’t. “That right there is a good idea. Anyone weak enough would probably drop you for being dead weight.” He kept his hold and if he had been in the city, he might have turned Oishi and pressed him against some wall. A thought that was too suggestive for it’s own good. Kite had to do something before his mind ran away with him again. “Remember what I told you before about weak spots. Like this, the instep, the knee.” He paused. “If you can manage to turn, a knee to the groin...which I hope you won’t consider since I’m rather attatched to that area. Also, you’re tall enough. The back of your head is harder than the front of my face. A headbutt. It’s not nice, but nice isn’t what you care about right now. Right now, you care about getting away.” But even as he was making those suggestion, he had rested his chin in the junction between shoulder and neck so he could talk calmly into Oishi’s ear.
Oishi leaned back into the grip as Kite’s head came down on his collarbone. Knee, groin, head. He had it. His eyes closed briefly and then snapped them back open as he remembered this was a practical lesson, not a fireside chitchat. There was also the problem that despite Kite’s instructions, it wasn’t obvious how to maneuver enough to so much as tap the body that held him. He turned his head to point this out and promptly brushed nose and lips across Kite cheek. He froze, his breath ghosting across the strong jaw line as whatever comment he was about to make was driven straight out of his mind.
His initial thoughts were something between That’s nice, soft and what the....it has to be a mistake...he’d never... Kite went with the last option. As nice as it had felt at that awkward moment, he knew deep down that it had to be a mistake. No one willingly kissed him. Oshitari had...it had been his hand and he had decked the romantic for it... but that didn’t count because there had been a bet going on about kissing the refugees between two tensais. For a moment, he didn’t know how to react. His initial thought was to throw Oishi as far as he could. A smaller, quieter urge told him to stay right there and enjoy it. He ignored both. Instead, his arms loosened immediately and he stepped back, letting Oishi go completely.
Kite was glad his tan was so dark. He didn’t blush at least, but he was sure he looked awkward as he felt. Hastily, he adjusted his glasses and fought his baser instincts in order to return to his usual self. “Yes...well, that’s one way to get them to let go...” He used every ounce of will power he possessed not to touch the spot like some girl. “Now...would you like to try that again?” He didn’t even know which he was refurring to. Escaping...or the kiss. He wished he did.
Oh god. Kite thought .... well he had .... but not intentionally ..... did Kite think that it was on purpose? .... was he angry about that? ..... if Oshitari found out about this his life was over. Oishi fumbled to regain the power of speech so that he could assure Kite that it was just due to their position and not that he would ever .... at least not without .... it was maybe better he did not talk.
Oishi swallowed. Twice. Three times and cleared his throat. “I just wanted to point out that I couldn’t kick or hit you anywhere,” he said to his knees. “You had me helpless.”
The awkward silence seemed to come from the other party as well. Kite was secretly glad that he wasn’t the only one who had been shocked by that. But that also meant it had been a mistake. A part of him...was actually saddened at the idea that it hadn’t been on purpose. He stomped that down with a vengence. Instead, he approached the other teen and nodded. “There is where you are wrong. There were ways to move, even held like that. You are far from helpless.” He stood before Oishi and ran a hand though his hair. It calmed him a little. “Would you like to see? You can go and hold me the way I held you and I’ll show you just how you can get out.” He hoped that by switching roles, it wouldn’t be as awkward.
That sounded good. Not least because it meant Oishi had an excuse to stand behind Kite and not meet his eyes. Nodding in agreement, he stepped around the tall Okinawan and wrapped his arms around him, trying to resist the urge to rest his face against his back. “I’m not holding too tight, am I?” he asked, anxiously. He didn’t think he could easily hurt Kite accidentally, but it would be a terrible mistake to make.
Ignore it. Ignore how nice that felt. It was a distraction. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea after all to suggest this switch. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and realized, like this, he’d have to make an excuse for it. “Well, first, don’t panic. Someone just grabbed you...you can hold tighter if you want. Take a few breaths. Calm yourself so you can think straight.” He rests a hand onto the other teens arm. Even in the sun, he could see the difference in his tan to Oishi’s. Oishi needed to get outside more often. The sunlight would be good for him.
“Now, I need to get away. So I need to make you let go of me.” His hand slid over the arm to lightly rest against fingers. Fingers that did more for this island than his ever would. “I could break these and you’d let go. Or....” One foot slid backwards and slid against Oishi’s instep. “Or I could take your foot out from under you. You’d fall and take me with you...but you’d let me go.” There were a few other things he could do that he had learned from fighting in mixed martial arts tournaments. But he wasn’t about to throw Oishi again. “You see...there’s ways to get out, no matter how hard the other holds on to you.” Still, he’d made no move to actually break the old Oishi had. He was happy just standing there and lightly showing him without the added pain involved in the real thing.
“Ah.” Oishi did not move, listening to Kite’s voice as the fingers brushed lightly over his arm. It was a comfortable, relaxed position. They could just stay like this discussing fighting .... except he really was supposed to be paying attention! Heaven help him, Kite was going to think he was the worst student he’d ever had and walk out in disgust.
Rapidly, Oishi searched his mind for the last points Kite had made. Sweep the feet out. With a sudden movement, he twisted his ankle, letting his foot sweep out from in between Kite’s in a quick chopping motion.
Kite had godlike balance. He had always had it. Thus knocking him off his feet was quite a feat. It usually only happened when he was not on guard. Like right at that moment. He was explaining another way of his getting out of Oishi’s grip when the other suddenly pulled the tripping move he had talked about just a moment easily. Caught completely unaware, his footing was taken right out from under him. He was falling. He was falling and he was taking Oishi with him, just like he had said would happen.
Only he wouldn’t let it. He wouldn’t let Oishi take the brunt of the fall. A twist of his body and he was half under the other when he collided with the sand. He felt the abrasive scrape up his arm and when he blinked, nothing was coming into focus. Meaning the fall had knocked his glasses away. That didn’t matter though. Not yet. While his mind was still registering that this was supposed to hurt, he was already focusing on the one who had made him eat sand... His training kicked in and he was moving. So quick. One minute he was under Oishi, the next he was on the medic, pinning him to the sand, almost nose to nose with him so he could see him clearly.
“You know.” He stated. “The attacker isn’t supposed to do the leg sweeps.” He blinked, realizing what sort of position they were in, but did not move off the other teen. Instead, he remained right there and continued. “Were you hurt in the fall?” He already found it easy to ignore the small trickle down his arm.
Pinned down in the sand, Oishi looked up, green eyes inches from the sharp ones above him. Some form of explanation would probably have been appropriate at such a stage, but Oishi could think of none. The only thought that passed through his mind was that he had never seen Kite without his glasses before. The lack of the wire frames softened the features of his face as the small flicker of surprise fluttered across the stern features. “Kite....” His breath ghosted uncertainly across the other’s neck.
They were just so close. It wouldn’t have been a stretch to get even closer. Later, he decided, he was going to do something about these thoughts he was having. Perhaps beat his head against a wall until he shut that voice up that whispered that it would be okay to do something bold, like kiss Oishi. The excuse that Oishi had done it first was not a good excuse at all, and really Kite hated excuses. But it was so tempting. He felt a husking breath against his neck and he started to push himself up and off of Oishi so he could sit up as well. He even offered a hand, only to finally notice the beads of red dripping slowly.
He shook his head and laughed to himself. Only he would get himself injured trying to train an amateur. He should have never let his guard down. Amateurs were the most dangerous of opponents. He had let Oishi disarm his natural wariness and distrust. Oishi’s greatest weapon had been used against him and he had let it. It was the funniest thing he had heard all week really. “Well,” He maanged through a small chuckle. “I think you understand that technique and it’s usefulness now. Can you help me find my glasses?” Because sometimes, he felt that he needed glasses just to find them.
Kite was hurt. Oishi had been lying there thinking about ... about .... NOT about that his stunt had wounded his instructor. Scrambling to his feet, Oishi took Kite’s arm and examined the cut. It was shallow, but such wounds were liable to become infected. It needed to be washed.
Looking around, Oishi spied a flash of light from Kite’s glasses and plucked them from the sand, placing them in Kite’s good hand. “Let’s wash that in the sea,” his voice took on an unusually firm quality. It might have been his fault that his assistant’s arm was scraped and bloody, but he was not about to let it rot off to boot.
The tougher teen accepted his glasses and put them back over his eyes. It was nice to be able to see again. His first clear sight was of Oishi frowning at his arm. He looked to the side and shrugged. Without hesitation, he pulled his shirt off. He knew he was very built. He also knew that Oishi already knew about his scars. So in general, he didn’t care if the other saw them again in the bright light of the day instead of the dim lights of the cave during his last check up. Silently he wrapped the wound with his shirt. “I’ll be fine.” He stated, brushing the wound off as he had brushed off the large cut he had made on himself when he had been learning from Oishi. “I don’t think the lesson is over yet.” He didn’t want it to be. He didn’t want it to end with Oishi knocking him on his ass like that. His pride wouldn’t allow it.
Oishi’s next comment caught his in throat as the midday sun threw Kite’s scarred torso into brilliant illumination. Without thinking, he stretched out a hand to place it over a particularly vicious slice across the rib cage. The wound had been jagged and it didn’t look like Kite had bothered with proper stitches. “I can teach you to minimise these in future,” he said distractedly, as his eyes slid over the other knobbly lines. Almost immediately, he felt like smacking his forehead. Clearly, he had been around Kite too long when his thoughts focused on scar treatment rather than injury prevention.
Turning back to the current cut, he shook his head at the rough bandage. “Your top wasn’t clean,” he said firmly. “Sometimes you have to make do, but this isn’t one of those times.” He looked towards the ocean. “Isn’t there something you can teach me about fighting in water that would let us wash out that cut at the same time?” Meek and mild though he was, Oishi could be stubborn too. Especially about wounds.
Fingertips touched raised flesh and Kite found the words falling from his lips. “I gave Tanishi my favorite short ribs when he was being forced to diet. I was caught. The Shinai broke instead of my own ribs. I had a match three days later. Stitches were not an option.” And every last one of them had a story like that. Punishment from his coach. Fights with American soldiers who didn’t know how to respect the Okinawan people and their customs. Bar fights with punks. Mixed martial arts bouts. The ship fire. It reminded him just how differently he lived from Oishi. It reminded him that he did know 30 ways to kill a man with his bare hands and Oishi...Oishi was a medic.
So, when he was asked about water fighting, he could only say one thing. “I would drown you.” It was as simple as that. Water was his element as much as land was. “But since I know you...I know you will just keep at me until I do it...So I’ll cut to the chase and I’ll show you why I’d drown you.” With that, he started off towards the ocean, letting the the gentle soul he was growing so fond of come along if he wanted.
Oishi apparently could not resist the offer of being drowned by someone he had, despite the last few hours instruction, no hope of fending off. He followed Kite, pulling off his own shirt and dunking it into the salty water as they reached the ocean edge. Tugging Kite’s make-shift bandage away from his cut, he gently cleaned away the blood before washing it out once more in the ocean and then tying it securely around the arm.
The Okinawan’s first thought was that Oishi needed sunscreen. His second was that tennis had been kind to the other teen. Oishi didn’t look anything like him, but he was still pleanty nice to look at. And look he did. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, head turned just slightly so it was clear and not the hazy vision on his periferals. He stood there, knee deep in the ocean and let the other work, not even wincing when the salt got into the wound. After, he would have to keep an eye out for sharks. They’d be able to smell the blood in the water. Though in this shallow of a place, only the smaller ones.....or more desperate ones... would come looking.
Bandaged by Oishi’s shirt, Kite muttered a soft thank you before slipping his glasses off and placing them very securely into a pocket. He did not want to be losing them in the ocean. “All right then...” Then Kite was gone. Even shallow, he was already under the water, knowing that Oishi’s speed would be greatly hindered while his swimming speed would give him the advantage enough to get behind him. His plan was simple. Just pull Oishi down into the water. No drowning. Just a playful dunking, like he would with any of his teammates.
Oishi blinked as Kite vanished before him .... then he grinned. Possibly the expression was inappropriate during a fighting lesson, but they had inadvertently walked right into one of Oishi’s strengths. Dropping, Oishi also sank beneath the water, strong arms and legs used to just this kind of exercise pulling him around in a tight circle to hunt for his would-be attacker. The prey was attempting to turn predator.
Kite hadn’t the slightest idea that he was up against one that enjoyed swimming. He found out quickly though, when Oishi wasn’t where Oishi as supposed to be. It would seem that he had found himself a fellow shark. And Nurse Sharks could be just as dangerous as Tigers given the right situations. In a way, it made this even more fun. He hadn’t had a good playful swim with anyone in a long while. It was nice to splash around in the water after a nice hard spar. He still attempted to grab the other as they circled. As he did, he realized he had sort of needed this. Some time just to have fun. He was willing to bet that it was the same for Oishi.
The sunlight penetrated the ocean water in distorted twinkles as green eyes squinted for movement that did not belong to the currents. His hands brushed along the sandy ground as he tethered himself briefly to see .... there! Pushing forward, Oishi caught Kite between the legs, using the water’s buoyancy to lift the other of his shoulders.
Kite was lighter than expected, even in the water. He made a rather loud surprised sound when Oishi got under him and he popped out of the water. Automatically, he grabbed on, back bowing backwards. If he was going to go, he was taking Oishi with him. He couldn’t help it. He found himself laughing out loud. Laughing, even though he was injured, even though his hair was down, he was laughing because he was having fun.
The sound of Kite’s laughter surprised Oishi so much that he promptly took in a mouthful of salty sea water. He spluttered, rolled and toppled them in a mass of legs and arms. Grinning, he caught his breath, pulling a strand of sea weed from his head as he righted himself.
He was smiling brilliantly. Laughing as well. Sitting chest deep in the water and trying to push his hair out of his face. His other hand moved over the water to splash at Oishi. “I told you.” He teased. “I told you I’d end up drowning you.” Because his gentle medic had ended up swallowing water. He didn’t realize how closely they were still twined together. His fingers just moved to lightly stroke over Oishi’s shoulder. “You had seaweed there too.”
“As do you,” Oishi pulled at the strands that had draped themselves over Kite’s head like an overly fashionable hat. He wondered if the other knew exactly how different he looked at present; face relaxed and merry, long strands of dark seaweed softening the chiseled features of his face.
Laughing at the ridiculous way the plant strands draped over Kite’s head, Oishi suddenly became conscious of how close they were standing. He could pick out different flecks of colour in the intense gaze on his own, the way the light bounced from the water to dance along the damp skin. The laughter stopped as he instinctively place a palm on the chest in front of him.
“This?” He asked, picking up another bit of seaweed. “Didn’t you know. Seaweed hats are the latest in fashion accessories. I’m thinking of getting a really nasty soaking lot of them and dumping them on a few heads.” Because even Kite could show his annoyance for others in ways that didn’t involve him putting them into bodily harm. His laughter didn’t fade until he felt the hand against his chest. Then it stopped and he was hyperly aware of Oishi right there in front of him. His own hand went over the one that seemed just so pale against his darker skin. “Oishi...” He started and then decided not to ask, but to say something else completely. “You need to do things like this more often. I’ve never seen you so relaxed and at peace. So...apprentice's orders. You have to go out and go swimming at least once a week.” Because Kite was concerned about the stress getting to the other teen. Even if he had no room to talk when it came to being high strung.
“Seaweed contains …..” Oishi was about to list a dozen ways in which seaweed hats would lead to sickness, fever and probable death when a new thought occurred to him:
Stuff it.
Besides, maybe one of the hats would go on Oshitari’s head. That would be quite amusing. His smile broadened at the command that he swim more regularly. “Since we are on an island, that does make sense,” he agreed. “But you should too. The exercise in anaerobic, it’s some of the best you can get, it’s ….”
The only time I’ve seen you smile.
“.... something I can beat you at,” he added instead, the smile flecked with a more mischievous undertone.
The Okinawan was almost ready to be told why he couldn’t go around putting seaweed where it didn’t belong. He would have happily argued that people ate it and that it was healthy. But it would seem he didn’t have to. He had not gotten a lecture. He wondered in a way why he was a little disappointed by that. He hated lectures...A lot. But he supposed from Oishi, he put up with them better. He didn’t feel the nagging need to punch him in the face and storm away.
Instead, he nodded and dropped his hand so that it no longer trapped Oishi’s against his chest. “I happen to swim every day.” He informed. But never for fun. He usually did it with a harpoon or a spear or a net in one hand in order to make a catch that would be one of his meals. “I surf here too.” Well, not here. The waves were far better on the other side of the island. But it didn’t change the fact that the medic added that last part.
Being as competitive as he was, Kite did not like to lose at anything. He did take it a lot better than he had in the past though. So instead of being angry with himself for letting a mainlander beat him at something, he merely reached up and patted Oishi on the cheek. “It seems so. You’d make a good Okinawan, if you weren’t so pale.” It was the best compliment he could ever give a person. “Maybe...” He mused a little, more to himself than to Oishi, “Maybe once we get off here, you’ll come down and visit...if you’re not sick of islands by that point.” Though after he said it, he didn’t know what he had been thinking. There was a better chance of a white Christmas on the island than for Oishi to come and visit him in Naha or anywhere else. Oishi had a life outside of this island, just as he did and he was not going to kid himself and imagine impossible things.
Oishi examined his skin. It was true that he was not tanning well. Perhaps he should leave the infirmary cave more often. Kite at least did not seem to burn; that was one worry from his mind. He really ought to track down Echizen and Tooyama and cover them in sunblock. Neither of them were trustworthy in that regard.
“I would love to visit you when we get home,” he said with such a genuine tone that Kite could not think it was just politeness. He looked up across the beach to where the thin coil of smoke marked the settlements. “It might actually be quieter.” A muscle his in jaw twitched at the thought of Inui and Yanagi’s ridiculous questioning.
Oishi was willing to visit him. It was a warming thought that his company might still be welcome even after they were no longer forced to be together. He didn’t doubt it either. He would just have to make sure that his friend never saw him in any bouts. He was sure the medic would never let him enter the ring again if he saw just how much punishment he took...and how much more he gave in return. He nodded at the other sentiment. “It is a lot quieter in this place.” Though Okinawan were a loud group in general, they were no where near as loud or nosy as some of this island’s inhabitants. “I’ll give you my number...In fact, I’ll give it to you as soon as we’re done here and go back to your cave. That way you can call me if you really need me.” And if Oishi called, it wouldn’t matter what he was doing. Kite was going to come running.
Oishi smiled. “We’ll exchange,” he promised. He looked across at the ocean which now reflected the sun as it became low in the sky. “Will you take me through those punch again briefly before we end? I’d like to be able to practise them alone.”
Kite nodded. He would definitely put that number into his phone. But for now, they had had their fun and it was bad to the serious work. “It’s no problem. I can run you through them as many times as you need. Only this time, I’ll show you how to shadow box so you can do it by yourself.” He thought staying in the water might help. Build up some resistance. He just sloshed to Oishi’s side and stood shoulder to should with him. “You ready for this? We’ll do simple forms, like you did before until your ready to make the step up.” And he was definitely looking forward to more of these lessons.