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Sunday afternoon, Shiro and Clarice spar in the fencing hall. Nothing too special here, just a couple of friends smacking each other around for the fun of it.



Clarice stretched out on a mat in the fencing hall, her legs spread out, torso touching the thick padding, while she waited for Shiro to arrive. She was already wearing the thick white fencing jacket required of all fencers, but had not yet put on the protective glove or mask. As a rebellion to the monochromatic whiteness her unitard pants were tie-dyed.

Shiro entered the room a few minutes later, wearing his normal training uniform of white drawstring pants and red sleeveless t-shirt. He gripped his bokken tightly in his right hand. "Hello," he said to Clarice as he shut the doors behind him.

"Hey," she replied, getting up and retrieving her things. "Ready? Or do you need to warm up?"

"I'm ready," he replied as he got into position. "I stretched when I got dressed. And you?" Holding the wooden sword in front of him, he took a good look at Clarice to measure her up. They had sparred a few times in the past, and he was getting used to her style, but he still did not like getting scored on.

Clarice saluted him, although he did not salute back, and donned her mask. Once in position, she smiled, "Ready!"

Shiro gave her the briefest of nods. "Iku ze!" They were using the train-track today to give Clarice an advantage, but he was not going to let that affect his performance. He made the first move, unwilling to give her even more of an upper hand, and swung his bokken down to smack her.

Clarice's sabre shot up, her lead arm forming a strange triangle with the blade, parrying his attack and then lunged under his bokken for her own attack.

Note to self, wear something protective next time, Shiro silently mused. Adjusting his footing as quickly as he could, he moved backwards to avoid the worst of Clarice's attack, then brought his bokken down to block her sabre.

She retreated back into the en garde position from her lunge, bringing her blade across the inside of his arm leaving a red mark. "Ha!" she gloated a little, preparing for him to attack.

Nearly and hour later Shiro sat down against the wall. Or rather, he collapsed against it, exhausted. He could see the small red marks on his arms already, and he knew that by morning he'd have a bruise or five elsewhere. Not that he hadn't ever felt worse after a particularly good training session with Keniuchio, of course, so he'd deal. He looked over at the purple girl sitting next to him. "Good job."

"You too, I've never seen some of those moves before," Clarice replied, retying the bandana around her head. It was completely soaked through with sweat.

Placing the bokken on the floor next to him, Shiro rubbed one of the reddest welts, close to his left shoulder. "I have learned to adapt to your style. Or I am at least trying to. It was more of a challenge this time, since we used the lane."

"We used circles last time. Besides, I have to adapt to you too" she pointed out, pulling her glove off and using it as a fan. "You feeling better? Other than your shoulder."

"I'll be alright. Mr. Logan's healing powers would be a relief right now, but I have suffered worse." Shiro grinned. "This one time a few years back, my cousin was teaching me some complex techniques, but I was not fast enough to master the footwork and ended up getting hit by his bokken a half dozen times. I could barely move the next day."

"I've had that, the first time I had to do a couple laps of lunges down the gym. I couldn't get out of bed the next day without pain meds," she laughed remembering, "Now I do them everyday for fun. Guess we're just masochists."

He laughed along with her, recalling the memory fondly even thought it had not been the most pleasant experience. "I suppose we are. What is the expression? 'No pain, no growth'? If we had not been put through such torturous training, we would not be so skilled now."

"Yeah. 'No pain, no gain', is the saying. I guess it's true, but sometimes I have to wonder if there is ever a limit on the pain that can be inflicted at once," Clarice smiled sadly, "Welcome to real life."

"Real life sucks," Shiro muttered in an uncharacteristically angsty teenage American tone of voice.

"Wow, Shiro, I guess our stupid American sayings are rubbing off on you," Clarice remarked. "Although I've always wondered why school isn't considered 'real life'. I mean, it seems pretty real."

Even though his face was still a bit flushed from the previous hour's exertion, a blush of embarrassment could be made out, too. "I think I have been spending too much time with you people," he said defensively. "Stop it." For a second there it looked like Shiro was about to stick his tongue out at her, but he didn't. He just smiled softly instead.

"I'm sorry, I'll try to stop being American, just for you." she untied her bandana again and wiped her face, although it didn't do much good, "Not sure how yet, but I'll figure it out."

"It's appreciated." Shiro slowly rose to his feet and stretched. His back made a soft cracking noise as he bent over to pick up his bokken. "And now I smell. I think it is time to drown myself in a hot shower." He instinctively held out his hand to help Clarice up, not realizing what he was doing until he'd done it.

She accepted his hand, "I don't smell you," she did a quick armpit check before gathering her equipment too, "then again, I probably smell just as bad. Don't use all the hot water!"

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[x-havok.livejournal.com]

"Real life sucks," Shiro muttered in an uncharacteristically angsty teenage American tone of voice.


Ha! Shiro will say 'dude' one day, it's Alex's personal mission!

And why does every conversation Shiro has ends in how someone smells? :P