tabularasa_rp | [open] because i can only be me

[Spending as much time in the bar as she did, Tifa had grown used to the sounds the world made around it. When there isn't much to do to pass the time except listen and observe when there's no one around to talk to, she can sense when something is out of the ordinary. It's Akechi's footwork that she hears—the occasional step or heavier stomp on the grass is what draws her attention outside, and the back door to the bar creaks open for her to see what it is.

She's surprised to find Akechi, of all people, fencing with a sword in Heavenly Blanc's backyard.

When there's a pause in his movements, she descends the patio steps into view. She knows better than to come up on someone, whether he's already seen her or not, in the middle of a sword thrust.]

That's new. [She motions to the odd-looking sword in his hand with her eyes, a smile pulling at her lips.] Never pegged you for the fighting type, but I'd be wrong to say there aren't any surprises around here.

[He does see her at first, focused intently on finishing the form he's practicing. An exhale, then he hears her speak, and lowers the blade to face her with a polite nod.]

Ren and I found it in the bathhouse underground. The one in that underground marketplace?

[He flourishes the blade briefly, much more at home with it than he was with Ren's dagger.]

I suppose it doesn't quite fit my image, but I do have some training. Would it be odd to say that I quite enjoy it? There's something about being able to focus completely on the perfection of something.

[She takes that as a sign to approach, which she does, coming up right in front of him as her eyes roam over the sword in his hand. Definitely not a weapon that she pictured him using, if any at all, but she can see someone who knows what they're doing when she sees one. She's no swordswoman, but from one fighter to another...!]

I don't think that's odd at all!

[Tifa lifts her fists to show them off, slapping one gloved hand with the other, materias shining in the light.]

Whether it's fighting, music, or even mixing the perfect drink, I think it's important we all have something, don't you? Especially here.

[Things are getting old pretty quickly.]

Oh... thank you.

[He's admittedly a little surprised to be accepted to easily. Even the Thieves found his style of combat terrifying, and even if Tifa hasn't seen even a glimpse of his real power, he'd think the sight of the saw sword is scary enough. It's... nice, to be acknowledged for who he is, even in such a minor and unintentional way as that.]

But yes, I suppose you're right. Call me paranoid, but I can't help but think there is something threatening about the seeming lack of conflict here. It's best to stay on our guard.

[He nods to her.]

May I take it that you have some combat training yourself, Tifa-san?

[Better to have people who know how to defend against and fight off any threats should they arise, she agrees. Those stubbies and dragonkarps were no joke and, small as they are, could easily be a hazard to them all if they had the numbers, and who knows what else will show up here later, if the trends keep up?

She nods back, her smile pulling wider.]

I do, yeah! Been training in martial arts since I was fifteen. Five years, now.

[There's a pause, filled with a sigh.]

Back then, all the boys in my village wanted to go off to work. Some even wanted to be war heroes. Someone's gotta stay back and protect the people, right? Had to learn how to fend for myself.

[It's strange, how something as simple as that can inspire a grudging respect. The desire to fight to protect instead of in pursuit of fame or wealth is something special, bringing to mind stories of reluctant heroes with humble beginnings and all-too-often tragic ends.]

Sometimes the only person you can rely on is yourself, [is what he says instead, lips curving into a somewhat-genuine smile as he nods.] Protecting yourself and those around you is a worthy goal, indeed.

I'll admit, I don't know much about traditional martial arts other than the very basics to get out of a fight, but I don't suppose you'd be interested in a spar?

[He moves to set the sword aside, because using his sword against someone armed only with fists doesn't seem quite right in this situation.]

I'm a very quick learner.

[His offer for a spar surprises her, but what surprises her more than that is when he sets his sword down. In those few seconds, she had expected that she would be going up against his weapon, and wouldn't have minded—it would at least put them on equal playing grounds—but she won't say no to a friendly fist-to-fist showdown.

Her brows twitch upward, and she stretches her arms up over her head before lowering them with fists at the ready.]

Sure, why not? Been a while since I've worked up a good sweat!

[Tifa bounces twice between her feet, her smile widening as she feels the blood already starting to pump.]

You don't want me to go easy on you, do you?

[She doesn't intend to go all-out, of course. That would mean smashing trees, and these ones are too pretty to break...]

[Now, Akechi is reasonably intelligent, but he does only know the basics. He doesn't have Sae's or even Makoto's training, and he's never gone unarmed against a Shadow.

What he should do is laugh, remind her that he's a beginner, and request that she go easy on him. But then she actually says it, phrased like that, and Akechi instead has no choice but to say,]

Of course not. I learn best under pressure.

[He tugs his gloves more tightly into place and falls back into a comfortable fighting stance, hands raised to protect his face. He doesn't have Tifa's looseness or poise; instead, he's almost too still, coiled like a spring. Not really how one wants to be in a fistfight at all.]

[First, she intends to see how good his stance really is.

With no warning besides the upward twitch of her lip, she comes forward with a fist up, ready to punch where his hands shield his face. Tifa hits just hard enough that she can measure the strength he carries in his legs, and how confident he is in holding against a solid punch. He says he doesn't know much about martial arts, but he's still a fighter, and she doesn't want to over or underestimate him.]

[Right for the face, huh? Tifa doesn't mess around, and honestly, Akechi appreciates it for the bare second he's allowed. It means she isn't starting by underestimating him.

And while his stance isn't good for taking a punch, it's not meant to. He'd been intending to dodge her first punch, bending his knees and leaning slightly to the left, but she moves much faster than he'd anticipated. Shadows as a whole make it obvious when they're about to attack -- Tifa, not so much. To his credit, he doesn't flinch upon taking the hit, catching it on his forearm as he ducks his head with a grunt more of surprise than pain.

The unexpected hit leaves him off-balance, but it doesn't stop him from trying to use that to swing around, aiming a punch with his left hand toward her sternum.]

[Tifa grabs hold of his wrist just moments before it grazes her, his knuckles almost pressed right to her chest, grip tight.]

Not bad!

[She uses the opportunity to wrap his arm around her neck so that she can swing around into a low kick meant to sweep him off balance.]

Keep your feet shoulder-width apart. Put your all of your weight into your knees when you brace them.

[Is this a spar or a lesson? ... Why not both?]

[The noise that emerges from between his lips as she sweeps him is a weird one, an aborted curse trapped behind clenched teeth as he hits the ground hard. It's been some time since he's had to fake nice while fighting, after all, and it shows for a moment in the ugly expression on his face as he pushes himself back to his feet before he managing to mask it behind something much more neutral.]

I'll remember that.

[And then he charges in again, trying to fake with his left before attempting to snap a kick with his leg. Uniform slacks aren't the greatest pants for fighting, but he manages well enough. To a trained fighter, though, the fake is obvious, his weight such that it's clear he's going to kick. Unlike people, Shadows don't care how much a move is telegraphed before its executed.]

[She certainly notices that odd shift in his expression but pays no mind to it in the end. Maybe he just doesn't take too well to getting his ass kicked? She did say she wasn't going to go too easy on him, but she doesn't want to injure him either.

When he charges, Tifa can sense the fake out, watching how he carries his weight in his feet, and how the punch doesn't have quite the same weight as his knee does. Observation was an early part of her training, and she's fought enough Shinra grunts to know how to spot one.

She doesn't knock him off of his feet this time, but instead blocks the kick with her forearm, and then goes in for a high punch with her other hand, and as soon as he lowers his leg, she'll alternate fists, between left and right, high and low, with one aimed in the middle there somewhere.]

Next lesson, [she says between breaths.] A trained fighter will always spot a fake punch before it hits.

Use the momentum in your fist to land the kick instead.

[And then, she demonstrates exactly that.]

[He's evasive, at least, though he doesn't have nearly the same level of grace as he possesses in the Metaverse. He tries to dodge her punches, though more hit him than he manages to block when he can't quite dodge. This is rapidly getting out of hand, but -- and he has to remind himself as her punch slips through his guard and smacks him in the sternum with a harsh whuff of air -- it's not a life-or-death situation. It's a learning opportunity.

At least her words warn him about the kick, and with breath coming harshly through parted lips, he twists to dodge it, dancing away and bringing his hands back up.]

So you're saying not to bother with a fake, but simply attack with everything you have?

[His eyes are narrowed as he tries to take what she's saying to heart, attempting to mimic that same flurry of blows, though he doesn't have near the speed she does, and obviously none of the stamina.]

I'm not saying that.

[She blocks his blows, one after the other, alternating between hands and even a leg at one point. Her breathing remains steady, eyes focused on his own, rather than where he lands his punches. When there's a break in their movements, she pauses to wipe the beads of sweat from her temple, and to explain.]

If you're gonna go for the fake out, use the force of your entire body. When you're throwing the fake punch, make sure that you use that momentum to swing your leg instead. And vice-versa.

[She demonstrates again: her right foot sweeps around but before she can hit him and knock him off his feet, her fist comes at him in a fast uppercut, stopping right at his chin before she slams a hand on his shoulder.]

Make sense?

[~~i have no idea what i'm talking about~~]

Guh!

[It's several impacts in quick succession, and his eyes go wide and wild for a moment at the idea that she can beat him, and so easily. His eyes flick past her shoulder to his sword before he forces himself to reign it in, gritting his teeth as he inclines his head.]

I... yes. This has been... a valuable lesson, Tifa-san.

[A bruising for his pride, no doubt, but valuable nonetheless.]

...I suppose I should thank you.

[Sometimes people need a little bruising to their pride to improve, Akechi!!

Tifa slows her roll, a sheepish smile parting the enthusiasm in her expression, and she lowers her fists, relaxing her pose. She knows her strengths, and she can be a little hard on people sometimes, but going easy on someone never went well, either. It at least helps her to know where they're at.

Slowly, she glances over her shoulder to his sword.]

No need to thank me. Just remember what I said, and we'll call it even. But next time... I want you to spar with your sword.

[open] because i can only be me

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