The applause was utterly unexpected, and made his cheeks heat: not that the blush was noticeable with his face already reddened with wind and excercise. His grin took on a slightly sheepish shade, but stayed in place.

He didn't answer her query at first. He knew he'd start coughing again if he tried. Instead he knelt beside his coat and retrieved the scabbard, sheathing the sword respectfully. He laid the katana down across his coat, so it wouldn't touch the ground, and grabbed the bottle of water. After a few sips, he answered Tsume, voice ragged but pleased. "Nnn, if you mean kenjutsu..." He paused and cleared his throat. "I don't remember ever not learning it." That sounded better, not quite so raw and mangled.

"The Konoha style, though....my jounin-sensei found the scrolls for me right after I graduated the Academy. So...four years now." He paused to cough again. The ache under his breastbone grew, and he absently lifted a hand to rub at his chest. His breathing was too fast: he really should walk and cool down a bit.

"I don't know what it looks like. No-one but me does it," he rasped, as he got to his feet. The heel of his right hand pressed against his breastbone, at the ache behind it. He didn't notice--he was still buoyant and cheerful, and he'd lived so long with his cough he never thought about it anymore.

He started walking, in a little circular path to stay near Tsume. He stayed where she could see him, out of courtesy.