Shiro & Logan, Friday night

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Shiro and Logan offer each other new beginnings. Honor abounds.


This commute was really going to kill Shiro soon. The combination of bus, commuter train, subway, and walking from Salem Center to Chelsea in Manhattan necessitated an early waking, and Shiro didn't feel capable of that anymore. This has led to a serious strain on his training regimen, and even with Kyle's help he still felt totally out of shape.

Tonight was a basic cardio routine, which he'd ended with a run around the mansion. The dark and cold weren't a problem to him, of course, so he'd gone out in a t-shirt and shorts, which were soaking with perspiration by the time he came back in. A quick shower and change later, and he was in the kitchen for a quick pre-bedtime snack.

"Konban-wa, Logan," he called to the other inhabitant, still panting a little as he rummaged through the refrigerator.

"Konban-wa." replied Logan, giving Shiro the kind of bow a sohei gives a kempai. "You look well." he said in English.

"All things considering," Shiro amended wryly. He still felt awkward being near Scott, Logan, or Marie, let along conversing with them. They'd seen him at his worst, and that was not something easily moved on from.

Logan took a moment to examine Shiro. "Perhaps you will allow your old sensei to assist in your recovery to fighting form?" he asked in more polite Japanese than he, strictly speaking, had to use.

It was very strange to Shiro's ears to hear such delicate speech in an Okinawan accent, especially when addressed to him. "~I think that you would better understand what I need than anyone else here~," he replied, his own tone a marked difference from what he usually spoke.

Logan nodded to that. "In terms of the body, yes. In terms of your honor, I do not believe I can help you." he said with a shrug. "Got enough problems with my own." he grumbled.

"~Don't we all?~" retorted Shiro. He closed the fridge, chicken noodle soup in hand. It only took the trip from the fridge to the drawers to the table for him to heat it up. "~It's a personal journey, anyway, ne?~"

Logan nodded. He'd do better to remember that - the only one he had anything to prove to was himself. "Hai." he said curtly, then closed the fridge. "I know why you did what you did." he said abruptly. "It was fucking stupid, but I can and will give you a chance to re-prove yourself." he said. He then handed the bowl of leftover Injun Chili to Shiro to reheat. "I owe you that much. If you will extend to me the same courtesy."

Shiro accepted the bowl with both hands and had it ready to eat in a few seconds. "And I owe you more than that," he replied, handing the bowl back to Logan. "Things would be much less complex if life were a Kurosawa movie, ne?"

Logan snorted in amusement at that thought, and began to eat. "All we need now is a no-dachi." he said around bites, but he grinned when he said it. "You've been working with Kyle on rehab, neh?" he asked. "Kid'll be good for general conditioning, but when you want to put a gi on, come and find me."

Shiro smirked. "Just give me Cloud Strife's sword and then I will be set." Not that Logan would know who Cloud is, but that's beside the point. "Kyle has been helping me in the weight room. This?" He pulled up his sleeve to reveal a bicep that could only be called such because that is its proper name. There was little particularly muscular about it. "This is unacceptable.

Logan laughed. He kept his own guns holstered - he'd hate to give the kid any more of a raging inferiority complex. "You got some work to do, kid." he said. "Make us proud."