InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "insanity is a lot of fun"

Shirai Reizo | 白井雷三 (some_other_dog) wrote in disappear_rpg,
@ 2009-10-28 22:39:00

Entry tags:

kazuya, reizo

Kaz's introduction into the shadow world.

The ring was never a pleasant place for Reizo. Anyone who saw him in it would say he loved it, maybe even that he was destined for it, but he loathed it. He hated the rules and regulations they put on boxing. He hated the red tape and restrictions, the crowd it always drew, and he had a disgust passed down from his parents for turning something so primal and pure into sport and play. The only thing he wanted out of people for being able to bust faces was respect, or fear. He wasn’t really picky.

Still, it served its purposes. He did get some small pleasure out of it, if only for being able to go in and knock the hell out of someone and get encouraged to do it, and it was fun from time to time. And it was very useful for what he was doing today.

Trying to breed something harder into Kazuya.

So he weaved his hands in front of the older boy, bright red mitts hovering in one spot before moving to another after the terse sound of Kazuya’s punches landed. They didn’t sound bad, but he was definitely going to have to get on his ass to start weight training again. Technique only took you so far in street fights. Brute strength, as Reizo was keen to demonstrate so often, was the major force.

In a lull of the punches, he snuck a hand up in between the other boy’s hands, smacking him gently on the chin and sighing.

“Keep your hands tighter together, and quit breathing through your mouth,” he chided him breathily, taking off the training mitts and then wiping the beads of sweat off his forehead.

“If you ever get into a fight with an experienced striker and don’t keep that guard up, you’re gonna get jawed.”

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puppetofhisown
2009-10-29 03:54 am UTC (link)

It was one of the times where he reached the closest to what he dared to call happiness. It was an act, a ritual that never ceased to allow him some sort of enjoyment. Perhaps it simply appealed to the male instinct of testosterone, or the friendship that training together brokered. There was a certain joy to be had in honing ones skill with a friend, if that was what he dared to call Aniki. Naturally, he respected Reizo far more than on a equal level. He'd come to revere him as a superior, and a master in some levels. While he would have been insulted to have heard anyone refer to him as Shirai's dog or slave, he did accept that it was a position he did qualify for. Still, it pleased him to have that sort of guiding light in his life.

It wasn't that he *needed* a master, or anything. No, no, that was totally absurd. Everyone had some sort of compass that helped them along. Sometimes it was a goal, sometimes it was a passion, sometimes.. it was someone else. He'd read books about heroes, about figures of legendary bravery and skill. Those that had led men into the fray, into situations both grim and hopeless. Those men, that managed against all odds to bring success. While it might have been romantizing the figure, he could find Reizo fitting that position. While he was not necessarily a war hero, or a political figure, or some knight of righteous force.. He was a leader. Someone to be admired, someone to be followed. Someone that embodied every aspect that other men and women could envy. Someone with a certain air about them that buffeted every ailment that followed. Someone that was *strong.*

He could remember the first time he'd seen Shirai, and that strength.. It seemed to bleed from him, in a glowing illumination that only Kazuya could fully understand. It seemed so long ago now, but Kazuya had spent a good deal of time entrenching and cementing himself against such a strong anchor. He would have fought any battle for Shirai. Gone up against any challenge. Offered him the cheat sheet to any test. Done any amount of laundry. Finished any pile of homework (accompanied by the homework of others), and conquered all minor tasks! But that was glorifying it a bit more than was required. The present was what mattered, and in the present, he was tackling the issue of quieting his panting breaths into muffled snorts as he had been advised to.

Boxing was not a sport that he especially enjoyed, all things considered. It had a number of restraints, and required rules to follow. While, true, it was a wonderful way to build fighting technique.. Some of the fighting he'd seen had been with knives, bats, or other blunt/sharp objects. He'd never stand up to that with merely his hands. But, then again, a good deal of fighting was done with simple human hands and feet. And if the time did come when he had to fist-fight, he needed to know what he was doing.

And so he stepped back, pulling off the obnoxiously bright-colored fighting mitts and giving one last deep exhale.

"Y-yes, right. I'm sorry. I'll get it right next time." His voice was as reassuring as could be expected, but at the very least he looked determined. Even if weak. He had been skipping out on weight-lifting sessions to do a number of other tasks. He'd have to find room somehow, maybe even skip another few classes to get in time at the gym.. Ah, but he had assignments to do and little time outside of class to do them. Sometimes, things were a dizzying mess.

"Ah, Aniki, my parents will be visiting tomorrow, as well.. So I might not have as much time after classes. If there's anything required tomorrow, I could do it later tonight."

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