Post by takeo on May 1, 2018 14:00:44 GMT
Takeo & Shizuka Yui
Late morning at the Hoshidan army base, while the usual training drills are being held after breakfast.
Late morning at the Hoshidan army base, while the usual training drills are being held after breakfast.
The wooden mannequin standing before him, haphazardly leaning to one side after facing beatings from the other soldiers, didn't inspire much rage in Takeo. It wasn't a legitimate threat - wasn't going to spring to life and brandish a sword with its nonexistent arms. In fact, if it wasn't just a lump of gnarled wood and some nails, Takeo might have felt sorry for it.
He lined his wooden practice katana up with his target, delivering a series of measured blows that were only possible due to the fact his enemy was incapable of movement. Takeo knew that applying the techniques taught to them on a real, flesh-and-blood enemy that didn't particularly want to be sliced to death was miles ahead of what he was capable of, as well as most of the other junior soldiers surrounding him. Taking a look around at his peers, some hacking at their wooden dummies like firewood and others still managing to miss the stationary mannequin, his hopes for their combined success in the war dwindled a little.
After the thirty minutes of allotted wood-bashing time was up, the instructor of the session called for the recruits to form a line. Next in the daily program was sparring, and Takeo watched as friends split off into pairs to fight. This was supposed to be the 'fun' part of their training routine, and Takeo believed it would be had he formed more (or any) friendships with his fellow soldiers. Instead he was part of the outcast group who were partnered up by the instructor with whoever hadn't found a pair fast enough to get their initial preference. The second choice, but not even really a choice.
Takeo sighed, holding his wooden sword unceremoniously by its dulled blade while he waited for someone to settle for him. He didn't exactly stand out compared to the others, with his bland dark hair and dark eyes and stock-standard uniform - not to mention the permanent uninterested expression plastered on his face - but he knew he wasn't a terrible person to spar with. He was reliable, at least. Was that a marketable trait in the volatile friendship economy? Takeo thought it should be.
He lined his wooden practice katana up with his target, delivering a series of measured blows that were only possible due to the fact his enemy was incapable of movement. Takeo knew that applying the techniques taught to them on a real, flesh-and-blood enemy that didn't particularly want to be sliced to death was miles ahead of what he was capable of, as well as most of the other junior soldiers surrounding him. Taking a look around at his peers, some hacking at their wooden dummies like firewood and others still managing to miss the stationary mannequin, his hopes for their combined success in the war dwindled a little.
After the thirty minutes of allotted wood-bashing time was up, the instructor of the session called for the recruits to form a line. Next in the daily program was sparring, and Takeo watched as friends split off into pairs to fight. This was supposed to be the 'fun' part of their training routine, and Takeo believed it would be had he formed more (or any) friendships with his fellow soldiers. Instead he was part of the outcast group who were partnered up by the instructor with whoever hadn't found a pair fast enough to get their initial preference. The second choice, but not even really a choice.
Takeo sighed, holding his wooden sword unceremoniously by its dulled blade while he waited for someone to settle for him. He didn't exactly stand out compared to the others, with his bland dark hair and dark eyes and stock-standard uniform - not to mention the permanent uninterested expression plastered on his face - but he knew he wasn't a terrible person to spar with. He was reliable, at least. Was that a marketable trait in the volatile friendship economy? Takeo thought it should be.