| Say it Right | [Jan. 21st, 2009|08:09 pm] |
Once his head stopped ringing, Ryuichi would conclude that the spar had been quite enjoyable. Katsuko (he'd forgotten her surname already, but that could be attributed to the fact that she'd hit him square in the face at least once) was a jounin. She'd also agreed to practice with weapons, too, and hadn't required convincing to do so. Most of the jounin Ryuichi knew were either psychopathic or full of themselves. Arrogance came with skill, and jounin had that by default. Insanity usually came with the rank, too, but few shinobi were all there in the head. Came with the job. Sanity hindered things.
Civilians were slow, whereas shinobi were fast. The wording was simple. The meaning, not so much, but it all worked out at the end of the day.
"That was fun," he said, staring at the ceiling and waiting for his head to stop spinning. There were a few lines on it that had come from something bladed. How they'd gotten on the ceiling itself was a question without an answer. Maybe he'd get bored enough to pursue it, but probably not. Ryuichi didn't get that bored often, unless he got hurt enough that active-duty was something he thought about wistfully, and he'd been lucky the past few weeks. Nothing major enough to make the medics notice. "And I'm fine. Really."
He wasn't lying. He just needed a minute for his vision to go back to normal. Because depth-perception was a bitch to regain when you only had one good eye, and had taken a solid whack to the face.
Well. Maybe two.
It was probably a good idea he was sitting against the wall and not attempting to do anything like walking. Because crashing into walls was not fun.
Ryuichi wasn't even sure who'd won. At this point in time, he didn't really care. It had been a good spar. |
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