Who: Okamoto Katsushiro (
first_image) and Shampoo (
amazonianism)
What: Shampoo invited Okamoto Katsushiro to try learning something of fighting (again) from her.
When: Now?
Where: Somewhere in the courtyard(s).
Rating: PG/PG-13 (Language dependent)
(
Shampoo stretched...(And there was much rejoicing.) )
Comments 10
So he had an offer to be trained by someone that could have been lying for all he knew. That was one of the main defects of these magical journals. You could communicate with everyone and anyone that had one, but it could be dangerous. At the moment, he was hoping this girl wouldn't be a disappointment to his standards.
Though he had to wonder what his standards were anymore when he didn't have any idea how to fight.
Stepping outside, squinting in the sun, Katsushiro quickly made his way to the courtyard where he had agreed to meet the 'girl'. Seeing someone standing there, he approached slowly, wondering if -
"Uh, are you...Shampoo?"
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Males were always annoying to work with. Between the assumptions they made concerning their own strength and agility in comparison to that of a woman's, they were much less honest in battle. Of course, in life or death, there were other considerations; sparring held itself apart on it's very nature.
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"You talked to me over the journals and said you could help me…?" Taking a good look at Shampoo, he stopped himself from making any quick judgments. It was obvious that she had come from a world of her own, but that didn’t mean anything. A feeling in his stomach told him this was going to be very different training.
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Considering his self-offered teacher wore a shapely dress of Chinese origin, slit high up her thigh and in a brilliant scarlet and gold, she supposed there was a reason for him to be unsure. Then again, if she wasn't mistaken, he was Japanese-like; and goodness knew that the Japanese were a discreet law unto themselves.
"You know is lost knowledge. Is tell Shampoo what is you know now lost?" She was still leaning on the poles, roughly half an inch thick each. She looked fairly serious, waiting for an answer.
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A bit more and he would have launched into a rant about how stupid this place was and how he wanted to go home so he could fight another war like the samurai he was. He was sure Shampoo wouldn’t have appreciated that too much.
"So, yes, I’m unsure because I don’t know if I’ll be able to learn again," He was uncertain about everything and was honestly praying it wouldn’t turn out to be that way. "It’s not your dress or anything, really, it -" He broke off abruptly, blushing all of a sudden, mumbling something along the lines of "Stupid, stupid me."
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"Is possible may no learn what lost; is also possible may relearn. Is different, little ways, with different teachers, no?" Shampoo pushed her hair behind her shoulders, smiling a bit. "Wood is like sword. No like cut you, however. This case, better. Show me hold wood." She didn't seem to be particularly interested in whether or not Katsushiro was actually interested in learning, or if he was too caught up in the negative possibilities to pause and wave a veritable stick around at a strange woman's bidding.
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"Uh." He racked his brain, searching his memories for the basics he knew were in there somewhere. He could see them, just out of reach. Yet he couldn’t get his body to act them out. That left him standing there with a wooden stick in his hand, staring at his self-made teacher.
How nice.
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She supposed she could try something he likely wouldn't know - a style she herself had learned from a foreigner to keep herself entertained and practicing new things in the pursuit if Ranma.
Besides, it had been a trade of sorts. They got fed, Shampoo got entertained.
"Is possible no able do any what used do." She wasn't asking. "Try other things. Hold stick like Shampoo." She held the length of wood in such a way it seemed a continuation of her arm, a ready stance if you were holding a rapier and fighting in that particular style.
She half assumed he'd copy the rest of her stance, including the placement of her feet. If he couldn't at all, then Shampoo already had a second plan. (Other than laugh privately.)
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For some reason, he felt that wasn't possible to avoid, not with her.
"Okay..." Katsushiro rolled his shoulders, swinging the stick slightly. "What now?"
He could do this, he could do this. Hell, he had fought a war against the Nobuseri and come out alive, how could he not do this?
And he wondered if Shampoo was enjoying herself with this. If he'd judged her character right, she probably was.
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