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Who: Okita Souji

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Where: Outside the front entrance of the Mansion, on the lawn
When: After this
Rating: PG-13 (friendly violence, possible swearing~)
Summary: Souji and Reno are planning a bit of warrior bonding via beating one another up. I mean, uh, "sparring practice."
the Story: Bokken at his side, Okita made it to the front entrance in record time. In the sandals he'd also grabbed from the closet, he could take the stairs down three at a step.

He hummed cheerfully as he hastened to the door and threw it open. It was a wonderful day for sparring: bright, clear, and the grass was mostly dry. Bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, he stretched his arms out, then drew one of the bokken, bowing to an imaginary opponent before flowing into one of the standard kata. He'd taken up his practice routines again as soon as he found himself here, of course, but having an opponent -- and one with an unfamiliar style, at that! - had him bubbling with excitement.

Step, slash, turn and cut; he lost himself in the rhythm of the movements, waiting for Reno to arrive.

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It took Reno far longer than he would have liked to get outside. He was really awful at finding his way through this place - he was bad at directions in general, but it was even worse here because every room looked the same. After going down a few flights of stairs, he couldn't figure out if he was even close to a door or on the bottom floor, and it was frustrating.

Growing sick of this, the redhead glanced at the nearby window through which he saw the smog of Midgar. The window was barred, and he growled at it in irritation, tempted to just try and gnaw his way out, for Christ's sake. Sighing, Reno moved on, deciding it was worthless to even try to bust through that. He was a persistent person, but he was learning rather quickly that he wouldn't be able to leave this place.

He turned a corner to find a door larger than the others, with some stairs nearby. In excitement Reno hurried toward it, turning the handle and letting out a laugh of relief upon breathing in fresh air. He was now in a field, and he saw someone seemingly fighting an invisible opponent nearby. The redhead called out to the other person, "Yooo, are you Souji?" Hopefully he would be lucky.

Okita finished his movement, bowed, and turned with a bright smile. "Yes, I am!"

So this must be Reno. The redheaded man was taller, though that wasn't saying much in Okita's case, and he seemed good-natured. Most striking was his carriage - that of an experienced warrior. Okita's smile widened. This match would be fun.

"You're Reno-san, right?" he said, slipping the bokken back through his sash and walking over. "It's a pleasure to meet you face-to-face. So, how shall we spar?"

Reno was a little surprised to see how happy the other was in person. His whole life had been spent in not-so-great conditions, and usually he was the one that was being cheerful, if only to be annoying to others. In a crappy place like this where you could never go home, he would have thought everyone would be grumpy.

But not this guy, apparently. Maybe he had just accepted his fate? Reno couldn't do that, not yet. He expected to have some fun right now, though; he adored fighting. And even if Souji looked all nice, Reno wasn't going to underestimate him.

"Yeah, ditto." He replied, taking his black jacket off and setting it in the grass, then rolling up the sleeves of his white undershirt. "I dunno, what are you good at?"

Okita clasped his hands behind his back, watching the redheaded man. Reno seemed cheerful enough himself. Although Okita had always had a special fondness for serious or grumpy sorts -- they were so much more fun to tease -- it was nice to meet someone here who was both cheerful and older than fifteen or so.

"The sword, mostly," he answered Reno's question, watching the man's preparations with interest. Really, Western clothing looked so confining. "Or sticks, or unarmed combat. You said that you're used to using a short stick, right...?" He supposed, if nothing else, that he could lend Reno the other bokken to be used like a stick. Even if the idea felt mildly insulting to the poor weapon.

Could it be an insult if the thing had been magically created by his closet? Well, it was still a weapon, and the one he'd been practicing with seemed sound.

"Why don't you tell me what you prefer?" he suggested, beaming.

The prospect of fighting was cheering Reno up. If he did have to stay in this crazy place forever, that would suck, but at least he could still do stuff like this. It would be damn boring if he couldn't, and if what that other person had said was correct, he couldn't kill himself either. So he was pretty much screwed.

But thankfully, that wasn't the case!

Now that his outer clothes were out of the way, Reno turned to face Okita, listening. "I'm used to my EMR - electro-mag rod. It ain't just a stick, it electrocutes the person I hit. But it's okay, I'm fine with a sword."

He had used a sword in the past; not seriously, just enough to get by. In fact, since Okita had probably used one a lot more than he had, he was pretty sure this sparring match wouldn't go well for him. But he was fine with that, it would still be fun.

"Well, guns usually work well for me, but I really doubt we can spar with those." He laughed, gesturing with his hands. "C'mon, just give me anything. I'll fight with it."

Okita laughed, taking one of the wooden swords he'd tucked through his obi and padding over to Reno to offer it. "Perhaps this will do?"

The idea of sparring with guns made him chuckle again as he turned and paced back to the grass his feet had trampled flat earlier. "A gun wouldn't lead to a very entertaining fight~ Unless you want to use it as a hand-to-hand weapon!" Ryoma had been very good at that before his assassination. Okita missed facing the infuriating but skilled man in battle; not as much as he missed his friends, because he would have happily killed Ryoma himself if the man had ever left an opening. Still.

He slid his feet out into a normal stance. If Reno proved to be good enough with a sword for it to be worth the danger, then Okita could switch to his faster and more powerful attacks.

"Are you ready, Reno-san?" he inquired, raising his bokken.

Tossing the sword from hand-to-hand and testing its weight, Reno grinned at the other male challengingly. Sure, he was no sword master, but he felt he could hold his own in any fight. Reno had always been cocky like that, and even if he was pretty sure he would lose because he usually had no strategy to his fighting, he would at least have a good time.

"Works for me." He replied, moving into a position not far from where Okita was standing. Snickering at his response to sparring with guns, Reno swung his wooden sword experimentally in front of him. "Smacking each other over the head with the barrel of a gun, huh? Ha, sounds different."

Once he saw Okita move into a fighting position, Reno did the same, beckoning to him with his sword playfully. "Bring it, yo."

Okita laughed again, merrily, and sprang into motion. The movements of a simple lunging slash were drilled into muscle and bone by years of training. Still, he was a little slow. He could feel the slight lag of half a year's enforced lethargy.

He would, he thought as he brought the blade down towards Reno's right shoulder, have to do this more often.

Reno made sure to watch the male carefully, wanting to see how good Okita was and maybe learn a few moves on the way. It was easy to see how fluid his motions were from the instant he lunged, but the redhead reacted quickly and brought his sword up to block the swing in a somewhat sloppy manner.

Grinning up at Okita, he pushed the other's weapon away with his own and jumped forward quickly, aiming a slice at his side.

Not bad, Okita noted as the force of their bokken meeting shivered up to his shoulders. He leapt back as Reno shoved him away, using the push for extra speed as he spun out of the way of the redhead's slash. Not bad, but not really trained; exactly what Okita would expect from a fighter experienced with different weapons.

That made him unpredictable. Smile fading into a blanker look of concentration, Okita stopped the turn at just far enough to evade Reno's weapon, and thrust his own under the slicing bokken towards his opponent's stomach.