[Nishi grins, laughs, the spitting image of the devil for all of a moment, and then the smile is gone.]
Of course it's dangerous. You should want me dead.
[In life-or-death combat, hesitation is costly. There's no time for gentle disarming, no room for second-guessing. Tsukasa is here to survive, and Nishi is prepared to make that lesson visceral if he must. A good teacher, sure, but no one has ever mistaken him for a kind one.
With a flash of movement, Nishi's rapier cracks through the air like a whip, the tip coming to a near-rest against Tsukasa's throat. One millimeter closer, and it would have drawn blood. Stakes are raised, and suddenly the lesson isn't theoretical. It's real.]
[Of course he doesn't understand. But the tip of that rapier near his throat is a very persuasive explanation in and of itself.
He swallows tightly, frozen in place, eyes wide as he stares at the gleam of the blade.]
... F-fine then!
[With bravado, Tsukasa. With confidence. He's the one who came here, so if this is what it takes, then there's no time or room for faltering, right?
He drags a shaky breath in, and retreats a few paces to buy himself some space. He swallows, and lifts his sword. Come at him, huh...? ... Right.
Tsukasa's only experience with swords are what Nishi has just showed him, and stage combat. He has a lot of stage combat experience, but that is always choreographed. So he's comfortable holding the weapon, comfortable with the various strikes, comfortable with selling himself as a character competent with words.
He's not comfortable actually swinging at someone without knowing they know exactly what's coming. But. But...!
(He wants to keep moving forward.)
One more breath, and then he lunges forward with as much certainty as he can muster, swinging his sword Nishi's way in an overhand strike.]
[He intends to teach Tsukasa all the basics, make no mistake, but there's something to be said for natural intuition. Some are more instinctive than others, some reflexes almost preternaturally sharp. For Nishi, it's important to gauge that potential and press it until it sharpens.
For a first strike, it's not bad at all. Nishi easily catches the blade and pushes it aside, but the intent was there: a blow meant to kill.
Amazing. The laugh that escapes him is force of habit, but it's not mocking. He's impressed, truly.]
Impressive! You didn't hesitate. I wonder...
[...could Tsukasa be sickos?]
...Alright. Try again, but put more weight into it!
[Nishi is welcome to believe this until Tsukasa cries the first time he accidentally bruises someone.
For now, though--]
M-more...?
[Well.
Nishi did catch and handle it well, as Tsukasa thought he would; the only reason he could go through with it is because he believed in Nishi's competence as an instructor.]
I--alright...!
[He says that, but honestly, the next strike is much the same. An earnest strike with the sword, but there isn't more force or more speed behind it, even though Tsukasa is certainly capable of it.
There is probably a mental block there of some sort, because, well.
[He won't push Tsukasa farther than he can go in a single training session, but he will push him, clocking the lack of weight in his second strike right away. Hm... Is this Tsukasa's limit...?
Nishi disengages neatly, tipping their blades apart, his own rapier slipping to an easy rest against his shoulder.]
Feeling overwhelmed? If so, don't be afraid to admit it.
[It's normal to doubt yourself. It's okay to be anxious. Nishi wants to tell Tsukasa as much, but while he's fueled by the drive to prove something to himself, he won't distract the boy with idle conversation.
He'll simply nod and ready his blade. Tsukasa will be the one to decide when enough is enough.]
[He has the best of intentions, really. He wants very badly to do this right. After all, Nishi is taking the time to teach him, and Nishi is the one telling him to come at him like this--more forcefully, more certainly, with more gusto.
...
He doesn't succeed in making any sizeable progress, though. Not in being more aggressive in his strikes. Not in changing the force with which he swings his sword.
Even worse, he knows it too, shoulders slumping a little as he lowers the blade. He just... keeps seeing it gleam out of the corner of his eye, holding the weight of something that is so much heavier than a prop, and swinging that at someone is already a massive task.]
[Hm. That mental barrier refuses to budge. The glint of the blade must remind Tsukasa of just how real this is, and though it's been a long time since Nishi himself feared the consequences of wielding a weapon, he's not so far removed from who he was that he can't sympathize with Tsukasa's struggle.
He doesn't lower his blade to coddle or demean. Instead, he rests a hand on Tsukasa's shoulder, grip firm but not oppressive.]
He takes a slow breath in, and then his shoulders slump properly. He wants to brag and boast that he's not, that he's not afraid of anything, but in truth--]
... It does. It... struck me that this blade is very real. I'm aware you're very skilled, of course! But... what if something happened? I don't know that I could forgive myself if I accidentally hurt you.
Let the fact that I've lived this long assure you. Even if you were to hit me, I'd recover. That's a risk you must be willing to take.
[He was a soldier in his former life, someone who went out of his way to seek the front line and plunge headfirst into danger. If he had any fear of death, he wouldn't be draped in red, a symbol of the blood he's spilled more so than his military rank. He didn't become an ace without making the requisite sacrifices on the way up. That aside...]
...You'll have to trust that I would never allow for your hands to be stained with my blood. Ideally, you'll never have to know what it feels like to kill a man.
[That's all the more reason for Tsukasa to confront his fears— learning how to fight with a blade is simply the first step. With some competence behind him, he'll be able to learn how to disarm an opponent without taking their life in the process.]
[He looks disheartened even by the mention of killing someone, though he isn't as vocally horrified as he would be if not for the fact that they've already dealt with one murder, and someone else is going to die soon on top of that.
He swallows tightly.
Trust... that he won't hurt Nishi--that Nishi won't allow it to happen.
Trust is also a core, pivotal part of stage choreography. Trust in the choreography itself, trust in his fellow actors to know the choreography and perform it properly...
Trust them to be competent enough to handle it.
This feels like that, but the stakes are so much higher than bruises and banged up fingers.]
... Nishi-san, how did you learn to fight? Do you remember?
[He'd stick his neck out for Tsukasa and risk having it cut— that's the caliber of person Tsukasa is dealing with here. Still, Nishi can't fault him for hesitating. Accepting that fighting means pain, and sometimes death, should never come easily. Only those who've numbed themselves to others can swing at friend or foe alike without fear.
He tilts his head, sifting through his cloudy memory. Most of it comes to him in fragments, jagged pieces carried on the backs of nightmares... but he can still catch a glimpse of where it all began.]
My parents must have enrolled me in sword lessons when I was a young child. I must have been about your age when I joined the military... and if this uniform says anything, I made it as far as captain. But I doubt anyone remembers me for my sword work.
[Obvi! But that couldn't possibly be, seeing as giant fighting robots don't exist, but Nishi wants them to. He really, really wants mecha to be real...]
I must have been some sort of pilot, though the idea does bother me somewhat. In an ideal world, we wouldn't need a military. We wouldn't have to fight and kill each other over differing ideals. We'd be able to meet somewhere in the middle, evolve past the need for conflict, and be at peace with each other.
[...But.]
We don't live in an ideal world. I imagine that's no different where you come from, Tsukasa, or is your reality a peaceful one?
[But without mecha here, they'll have to make due with swords and whatever other pointy implements they can get their hands on. Alas...
Nishi stills, rapier brought back to rest against his shoulder. They'll resume when Tsukasa is ready, or maybe he'll want to call it good and take a rest for today. Either answer would be acceptable to Nishi.]
For your sake, I hope it stays that way. In the meantime... you can count on me to teach you what it takes to survive in a place like this, until it's time to return home.
[There will be a way out, else Nishi will carve one, but he leaves that unsaid.]
How are you feeling? Have you had enough practice for the day?
Until then, he just has to learn enough to be able to survive and look after himself.
... ... ... But he doesn't think he can do that today. Not on top of everything else. He knows he doesn't have time to waffle and faff about, but he just... needs some time.]
... Yes, for today, I think... it might be best to call it a day. But! Can we meet again tomorrow?
[Nishi nods, a thin smile on his lips. Truthfully, Nishi was hoping Tsukasa would take it easy for today and reconvene when he was centered and ready to devote himself to training again. He did quite well for his first day, mental roadblocks aside.]
Rest is a vital part of good practice, so be sure you take care of yourself today. Until tomorrow, Tsukasa!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[His immediate thought is not "to stab", not even when he brings up a hit and run and also his sister being hit on.
So he makes a startled noise, bringing his sword up but looking so puzzled.]
Come at you? Just like this? But isn't that dangerous?
no subject
Of course it's dangerous. You should want me dead.
[In life-or-death combat, hesitation is costly. There's no time for gentle disarming, no room for second-guessing. Tsukasa is here to survive, and Nishi is prepared to make that lesson visceral if he must. A good teacher, sure, but no one has ever mistaken him for a kind one.
With a flash of movement, Nishi's rapier cracks through the air like a whip, the tip coming to a near-rest against Tsukasa's throat. One millimeter closer, and it would have drawn blood. Stakes are raised, and suddenly the lesson isn't theoretical. It's real.]
Understand?
no subject
[Of course he doesn't understand. But the tip of that rapier near his throat is a very persuasive explanation in and of itself.
He swallows tightly, frozen in place, eyes wide as he stares at the gleam of the blade.]
... F-fine then!
[With bravado, Tsukasa. With confidence. He's the one who came here, so if this is what it takes, then there's no time or room for faltering, right?
He drags a shaky breath in, and retreats a few paces to buy himself some space. He swallows, and lifts his sword. Come at him, huh...? ... Right.
Tsukasa's only experience with swords are what Nishi has just showed him, and stage combat. He has a lot of stage combat experience, but that is always choreographed. So he's comfortable holding the weapon, comfortable with the various strikes, comfortable with selling himself as a character competent with words.
He's not comfortable actually swinging at someone without knowing they know exactly what's coming. But. But...!
(He wants to keep moving forward.)
One more breath, and then he lunges forward with as much certainty as he can muster, swinging his sword Nishi's way in an overhand strike.]
no subject
For a first strike, it's not bad at all. Nishi easily catches the blade and pushes it aside, but the intent was there: a blow meant to kill.
Amazing. The laugh that escapes him is force of habit, but it's not mocking. He's impressed, truly.]
Impressive! You didn't hesitate. I wonder...
[...could Tsukasa be sickos?]
...Alright. Try again, but put more weight into it!
no subject
For now, though--]
M-more...?
[Well.
Nishi did catch and handle it well, as Tsukasa thought he would; the only reason he could go through with it is because he believed in Nishi's competence as an instructor.]
I--alright...!
[He says that, but honestly, the next strike is much the same. An earnest strike with the sword, but there isn't more force or more speed behind it, even though Tsukasa is certainly capable of it.
There is probably a mental block there of some sort, because, well.
That's... A Lot. It's already A Lot.]
no subject
Nishi disengages neatly, tipping their blades apart, his own rapier slipping to an easy rest against his shoulder.]
Feeling overwhelmed? If so, don't be afraid to admit it.
no subject
[He grimaces, sword lowering. He doesn't like the idea of admitting something like that--he wants to be better, even if he knows he's rushing it.]
Let me try again first. At least a few more times...!
no subject
He'll simply nod and ready his blade. Tsukasa will be the one to decide when enough is enough.]
All right. Make it count!
no subject
[He has the best of intentions, really. He wants very badly to do this right. After all, Nishi is taking the time to teach him, and Nishi is the one telling him to come at him like this--more forcefully, more certainly, with more gusto.
...
He doesn't succeed in making any sizeable progress, though. Not in being more aggressive in his strikes. Not in changing the force with which he swings his sword.
Even worse, he knows it too, shoulders slumping a little as he lowers the blade. He just... keeps seeing it gleam out of the corner of his eye, holding the weight of something that is so much heavier than a prop, and swinging that at someone is already a massive task.]
no subject
He doesn't lower his blade to coddle or demean. Instead, he rests a hand on Tsukasa's shoulder, grip firm but not oppressive.]
Does it scare you?
[It should.]
no subject
[...
He takes a slow breath in, and then his shoulders slump properly. He wants to brag and boast that he's not, that he's not afraid of anything, but in truth--]
... It does. It... struck me that this blade is very real. I'm aware you're very skilled, of course! But... what if something happened? I don't know that I could forgive myself if I accidentally hurt you.
no subject
[He was a soldier in his former life, someone who went out of his way to seek the front line and plunge headfirst into danger. If he had any fear of death, he wouldn't be draped in red, a symbol of the blood he's spilled more so than his military rank. He didn't become an ace without making the requisite sacrifices on the way up. That aside...]
...You'll have to trust that I would never allow for your hands to be stained with my blood. Ideally, you'll never have to know what it feels like to kill a man.
[That's all the more reason for Tsukasa to confront his fears— learning how to fight with a blade is simply the first step. With some competence behind him, he'll be able to learn how to disarm an opponent without taking their life in the process.]
no subject
He swallows tightly.
Trust... that he won't hurt Nishi--that Nishi won't allow it to happen.
Trust is also a core, pivotal part of stage choreography. Trust in the choreography itself, trust in his fellow actors to know the choreography and perform it properly...
Trust them to be competent enough to handle it.
This feels like that, but the stakes are so much higher than bruises and banged up fingers.]
... Nishi-san, how did you learn to fight? Do you remember?
no subject
He tilts his head, sifting through his cloudy memory. Most of it comes to him in fragments, jagged pieces carried on the backs of nightmares... but he can still catch a glimpse of where it all began.]
My parents must have enrolled me in sword lessons when I was a young child. I must have been about your age when I joined the military... and if this uniform says anything, I made it as far as captain. But I doubt anyone remembers me for my sword work.
no subject
Tsukasa blinks at that, brow furrowed, staring down at the sword in his hand for a moment.
If he'd lived a life where instead of learning piano and creating shows from a young age, he learned piano and joined the military, then...
... What a completely different life Nishi has led.]
... Hm? No? What do you mean by that?
1/2
no subject
[Obvi! But that couldn't possibly be, seeing as giant fighting robots don't exist, but Nishi wants them to. He really, really wants mecha to be real...]
I must have been some sort of pilot, though the idea does bother me somewhat. In an ideal world, we wouldn't need a military. We wouldn't have to fight and kill each other over differing ideals. We'd be able to meet somewhere in the middle, evolve past the need for conflict, and be at peace with each other.
[...But.]
We don't live in an ideal world. I imagine that's no different where you come from, Tsukasa, or is your reality a peaceful one?
no subject
[.........]
So that's why you were talking about mecha before!
[Yes, obviously, Tsukasa.]
But... well, it may not be ideal, but my world is pretty peaceful.
no subject
[But without mecha here, they'll have to make due with swords and whatever other pointy implements they can get their hands on. Alas...
Nishi stills, rapier brought back to rest against his shoulder. They'll resume when Tsukasa is ready, or maybe he'll want to call it good and take a rest for today. Either answer would be acceptable to Nishi.]
For your sake, I hope it stays that way. In the meantime... you can count on me to teach you what it takes to survive in a place like this, until it's time to return home.
[There will be a way out, else Nishi will carve one, but he leaves that unsaid.]
How are you feeling? Have you had enough practice for the day?
no subject
Until then, he just has to learn enough to be able to survive and look after himself.
... ... ... But he doesn't think he can do that today. Not on top of everything else. He knows he doesn't have time to waffle and faff about, but he just... needs some time.]
... Yes, for today, I think... it might be best to call it a day. But! Can we meet again tomorrow?
no subject
Rest is a vital part of good practice, so be sure you take care of yourself today. Until tomorrow, Tsukasa!
no subject
[He pauses, looks down at the sword in his hand, and puts it back where he first got it from.
In this place, with what's happened already... he'd just be a risk to himself and others with a weapon he can barely bring himself to swing.]