Deprived of his latest sparring-partner—not that he’d been a good one, but still, it was exercise—Ryuichi decided to work on his balance. The dummies were boring after a while, and didn’t take kindly to live-weapons, and he’d rather not have to clean fluff and straw (or whatever the hell it was they stuffed training-dummies with these days) up off the floor. Sheathing his katanas and exhaling, Ryuichi pushed hair out of his eyes, and, stretching his arms up, bounced into a handspring.

The idea was to hold it as long as possible, and not get dizzy. Ryuichi didn’t remember what his record was, if he’d even kept track last time. Whatever. He bent his knees, toes pointing up. Just hold it as long as possible, and then find something else to do. Maybe Kotetsu was around. Maybe he could be convinced to spar for a little bit.

He’d probably agree if he were bribed with food. Ryuichi chuckled slightly, and then blinked, trying to see around his ponytail, which had fallen in front of his face. Was that someone coming in, looking a shade less than steam-coming-out-the-ears-fuming?

It was. Ryuichi didn’t recognize the guy, but that didn’t mean anything. Someone was pissed-off, which meant they would want to spar! Problem solved.

He ducked into a roll, and came up on his feet, and if he was swaying slightly, Ryuichi pretended he didn’t notice. “Oi! You want to spar?”

Hopefully, the answer would be 'yes'. If not, well, Ryuichi could try to be convincing. Sometimes he was good at that.