[It's true he'd decline if he weren't so proper... but he wants the memento. Of course, he accepts. His souvenir now, basically. His smile still hesitates.] I'll keep it. [He tucks it away—the memory. He eats his own meal delicately, slurping up long threads of noodles. He can't stop his staring... Between his hands and the swordsman, spacing out a time or two. A sort of drowsy fascination. He naps often, falls asleep easily when nothing particular's happening.
As they journey, there are several things to notice here. The boy's a sponge, and as he absorbs, imaging words into movements, he sees each technique visibly. Holding a blade in mind. He picks up rapidly when interested... masks an aggressively climbing battle IQ. Already, abnormal. There's growing envy he wasn't born sooner. A fascination with katana; the Shinsengumi. He wants to join, too. His expressions change rarely. Only the eyes which seem sharpened, wondering up at the other.
The younger's stare is too open, his every response a new question. He rambles at times: I want... I need... I have to. He mentions stronger, repeatedly. Several battles before his coming here. One could assume he's always fighting, that it borders obsession, with things he's frighteningly overeager to prove. And then he's hanging on words again, the way his fists clench lightly, suppressing his sparking.
Spying the forest's edge. How Hijikata's gold, too.
Trailing him silently. Without reservations. Thoughts calming once they've settled, boy hunched over soba, mind on his mission. It isn't long before he's dropped himself, flat and still, eyes on a cigarette's glowing ash-end. He answers back, tiredly. Peering from bedding.]
Yeah. [If all goes well.] I think I'm ready.
[He has to be ready. He's letting his ice claim his fingers, watching its magic spread.]
Don't worry... about me tomorrow.
[That smoke-scent's fading him. His eyes lid slowly.]
I know what I need to do, so... you should sleep, too.
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As they journey, there are several things to notice here. The boy's a sponge, and as he absorbs, imaging words into movements, he sees each technique visibly. Holding a blade in mind. He picks up rapidly when interested... masks an aggressively climbing battle IQ. Already, abnormal. There's growing envy he wasn't born sooner. A fascination with katana; the Shinsengumi. He wants to join, too. His expressions change rarely. Only the eyes which seem sharpened, wondering up at the other.
The younger's stare is too open, his every response a new question. He rambles at times: I want... I need... I have to. He mentions stronger, repeatedly. Several battles before his coming here. One could assume he's always fighting, that it borders obsession, with things he's frighteningly overeager to prove. And then he's hanging on words again, the way his fists clench lightly, suppressing his sparking.
Spying the forest's edge. How Hijikata's gold, too.
Trailing him silently. Without reservations. Thoughts calming once they've settled, boy hunched over soba, mind on his mission. It isn't long before he's dropped himself, flat and still, eyes on a cigarette's glowing ash-end. He answers back, tiredly. Peering from bedding.]
Yeah. [If all goes well.] I think I'm ready.
[He has to be ready. He's letting his ice claim his fingers, watching its magic spread.]
Don't worry... about me tomorrow.
[That smoke-scent's fading him. His eyes lid slowly.]
I know what I need to do, so... you should sleep, too.