（ he opens in a soft form, stance fluid and easy, barely seeming to be on his guard at all. but, in the spirit of not 'taking it easy' on the man, he attacks first. it is clear that his speciality is speed more than strength, and he is elusive as smoke even without using chakra to improve his speed. the majority mal's blows that make contact are redirected rather than blocked, as itachi slips away like a ghost. the rare one that makes contact receives nearly no reaction, pained or otherwise — he's clearly accustomed to being hit a great deal harder than this.
(kisame, after all, has been his primary sparring partner for years, and kisame's blows can shatter steel.)
when he strikes, they are sharp and precise, and if mal does not block or dodge he'll find the areas in a grotesque patina later of purples, blacks and greenish yellows.
but their stamina is impressive on both sides, seeming evenly matched in that respect, and the fight drags on for some time, unceasing. ）
[ mal's used to being a patchwork of bruises. he's fought to earn extra money on top of meager wages, has been on the receiving end of projectiles and weapons.
he's a canvas peppered in scars and stories, so while he does grunt at each blow he's not unused to this. he keeps up well considering all he has is a brawler's background, no particular style or strategy behind his moves.
along the way he loses his shirt and when they do pause, mal's sweating and panting. he shakes out his left hand, rubs his wrist. ] I suppose it's a good thing we didn't bet anything on that.
（ he is not a gross, sweaty mess by any estimation, thank u. barely a hair out of place, for all that the shadows of faint exhaustion have deepened on his face. elegance, thy name is. ）
[ everything's a bit more fun when there's a bet behind it. at least, when that bet means a few extra rations or coin.
unless it's foreign money, he guesses, but that train of thought leads him to dubrov and mikhail, to the permafrost and the forest where following him got them killed.
so he stops that in its tracks.
it's easier to focus on the now, even if it makes him want to fight again to forget. ] Any time. Thank you for not going too easy on me.
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（ he opens in a soft form, stance fluid and easy, barely seeming to be on his guard at all. but, in the spirit of not 'taking it easy' on the man, he attacks first. it is clear that his speciality is speed more than strength, and he is elusive as smoke even without using chakra to improve his speed. the majority mal's blows that make contact are redirected rather than blocked, as itachi slips away like a ghost. the rare one that makes contact receives nearly no reaction, pained or otherwise — he's clearly accustomed to being hit a great deal harder than this.
(kisame, after all, has been his primary sparring partner for years, and kisame's blows can shatter steel.)
when he strikes, they are sharp and precise, and if mal does not block or dodge he'll find the areas in a grotesque patina later of purples, blacks and greenish yellows.
but their stamina is impressive on both sides, seeming evenly matched in that respect, and the fight drags on for some time, unceasing. ）
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he's a canvas peppered in scars and stories, so while he does grunt at each blow he's not unused to this. he keeps up well considering all he has is a brawler's background, no particular style or strategy behind his moves.
along the way he loses his shirt and when they do pause, mal's sweating and panting. he shakes out his left hand, rubs his wrist. ] I suppose it's a good thing we didn't bet anything on that.
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（ he is not a gross, sweaty mess by any estimation, thank u. barely a hair out of place, for all that the shadows of faint exhaustion have deepened on his face. elegance, thy name is. ）
That was enjoyable. Thank you.
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[ everything's a bit more fun when there's a bet behind it. at least, when that bet means a few extra rations or coin.
unless it's foreign money, he guesses, but that train of thought leads him to dubrov and mikhail, to the permafrost and the forest where following him got them killed.
so he stops that in its tracks.
it's easier to focus on the now, even if it makes him want to fight again to forget. ] Any time. Thank you for not going too easy on me.
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instead — ）
It would only be a detriment to the missions were I to do so.
（ so don't thank him. that's weird. no. ）
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and not like he told itachi that he didn't have any powers before he started. ]
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（ he always allows for the possibility of the man's statement having been a lie. he inclines his head faintly at the lone word, and then — ）
I am in the training room most mornings, beginning at 0300 by the station clock. You may join me whenever you wish.
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Sure, I'd like that. Maybe not that early but closer to 0500. [ if he can sleep, he's going to sleep in to 0500. ]
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（ he nods once to the man, and then... uses shunshin to depart without another word. oop. ）
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