destinystrings | [CLOSED] And here's where the real party begins.

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[CLOSED] And here's where the real party begins.

Who: Masamune, Otoha, and one Johnny Rayflo spectating
Where: Capricorn district; Central Park
Summary: Masamune's first real swordfighting lesson yields some interesting results.
Warnings: Violence/blood, maybe some cursing, and possibly an Awakening?

Once Masamune had gotten word from Otoha when their first lesson was going to be, it actually took a bit for him not to come running out like some sort of fool. In all honesty, it reminded him of when he was younger and getting his first kendo lessons.

The cut on his leg had healed up well enough, at least, so now he was taking deep breaths, sitting in the park with Kagehide sheathed in his lap. Sure, he looked calm, but there almost seemed to be an electric current running through him in anticipation. Last time he felt like this outside of when he and Otoha had fought earlier was when he had first met Yukimura and the two had ended up working alongside each other in a fight in high school. This just felt right.

He let out a sigh, shaking his head as he stood up. Now or never, he supposed.

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As far as he could tell, it was technically good... "Now let's see if you can hold it." Otoha rushed forward, aiming a strike down at Masamune, and then another, trying to disarm him.

The first strike was easy enough to deflect, but the follow-up was a bit trickier, and it was only through a last-minute shift that saved him from losing his grip. Staying focused was the main priority here, and even though he was definitely itching to actually do more on the attacking end, he knew for a fact that Kojuro would have his hide if he found out Masamune was being reckless again.

"Good."

Otoha circled around Masamune, watching to make sure that he was tracking him properly, and then lunged again - going for the legs this time. He wasn't using all of his power, but if Masamune didn't block or move he'd end up with another nasty cut.

Masamune's eye narrowed, but he was still keeping an eye on Otoha all the same. This time, though, instead of the shift, Masamune went directly for a parry, moving to deflect and redirect the momentum of the strike in one motion. This is what felt more right, being on the offensive, even in terms of defense.

Otoha chuckled, and stepped back. His reflexes were good, and his instincts were, too. Everything seemed to check out... now to move on to the more dangerous part. For both of them, but mostly for him.

"Now try to attack me." Otoha stood with is sword down, not in any sort of blocking position. He didn't look concerned, though.

Masamune frowned, especially considering the lack of defensive stance, but shook his head and charged right in anyway. His expression quickly shifted to a more customary smirk once he got moving, and was at least able to come in with a diagonal cut aimed for Otoha's right shoulder. Simple, but then again, they were only getting started.

Otoha lifted his sword just enough to knock the sword off-track and took a step to the side, grabbing for Masamune's shirt and aiming to throw him.

"It doesn't take much to defend. And you don't have to be passive about it, either."

It was time for the fun to begin.

"Shit-" And by this point, Masamune wasn't thinking, twisting away to get out of Otoha's grip and lashing out in the same instance with a kick to the other man's shins. Probably not the best idea in retrospect, but it was the best he could do with his mind racing already.

Otoha dashed after Masamune once the boy was thrown, not affected by the kick at all. He lifted his sword to strike him across the shoulders, then flipped the blade last minute to go for a smack with the hilt across the side of Masamune's head.

... He'd have to take care of the blood currently dripping down his fingers later.

Masamune's lips curled back in a wordless snarl as he twisted around to keep his eye on Otoha, picking up Kagehide to try and block the incoming blow, ignoring the ringing in his head as the hilt collided with his temple, growling as he saw stars winking in front of his eyes for a split second.

In that moment, however, he lashed out again, this time with his sword, and went for a horizontal slash.

He blocked it with his sword, cutting his fingers more, but flipped the blade again and caught it once more. Hopping backwards, he just laughed.

"You're better than you think you are - once you stop thinking about it."

"Yeah, and what if I thought I was pretty good before?" He retorted, coming back in to close the gap and strike again, barely regarding the fact that Otoha's hand was bleeding from taking the blade barehanded.

"Then prove you can get better."

He lifts his sword up to halt the momentum and then uses his free arm to knock it away while he went for a swipe towards Masamune's stomach.

Masamune found himself grinning at Otoha's statement without really meaning to, and though his strike was redirected, he instead moved with it in order to avoid getting struck in the stomach.

It only half-worked.

The grin never left his face despite the stinging in his torso, and in following the same path of the redirected strike, he actually found it a bit easier to turn and strike back with a quick succession of blows.

That caught Otoha off-guard. He'd expected that Masamune would try to go head-on again, but the speed of his turn left him with little time to bring up his sword - so he tilted his shoulder into it, taking the blows on his back and shoulder.

He jumped back, doing his best to swipe the blood off of his coat. "Tch. Might have to get a new one."

Masamune couldn't help himself - he actually ended up laughing at that while trying to reposition himself for another proper strike.

"maybe you should've left it at home, then?"

This fight was honestly unlike anything he had done before - and was was stranger was that it felt right doing this. Like it was visiting an old friend or something.

"Maybe. Johnny'd probably have bitched at me for not taking a coat or something. He acts like he's my mother sometimes."

Otoha snorted a little, before launching himself at Masamune, going for a low blow but then switching to slice upwards at the very last moment. This was actually pretty fun. He hadn't had a friendly spar in a while.

"I know the feeling, but the one that'd be acting like a mother hen isn't here in my case." Not that he minded Kojuro being around, but sometimes he had a habit of being a bit overbearing at times, even after Masamune had left for college. Hell, if Kojuro was here, he wasn't sure how the older man that was his caretaker for the last few years would even react to it all, let alone the fact that his charge was taking swordfighting lessons from someone who admitted to have actually killed before.

He's ready to counter the blow, but the shift in direction is too fast for his reflexes to catch up to at this point, and there's a red line that appears on his arms from it, causing him to drop Kagehide with a pained gasp, though he's going to force himself to move past the pain and pick up the sword again.

Otoha moves forward as the sword is dropped, attempting to grab Masamune by the shirt again and slam him to the ground. Sure, it was dirty fighting. That didn't matter. In a survival situation you had to use every trick to keep going.

The wind's knocked out of Masamune's lungs as he hits the pavement, but when he opens his eye it's practically blazing fury - instincts and adrenaline are kicking in, and he lashes out with a punch to Otoha's stomach as soon as he gets the chance, his other hand fumbling for Kagehide.

He doesn't react to the punch at all, grabbing the kid's upper arm and pulling it to the side roughly - probably enough to cause a decent amount of pain. His other hand goes to grab Masamune's other wrist, attempting to pin him.

[His next breath comes through in a teeth-clenched, painful-sounding hiss, but he's still going to be trying to bust out of that pin somehow, this time with a kick. He wasn't done yet, he wasn't going to be done yet goddammit.]

[Otoha just keeps holding him. The kick doesn't appear to do anything, no matter where he kicks. Kick him in the junk, he doesn't care.]

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[CLOSED] And here's where the real party begins.

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