(D5 EE) Compromised

[Kitsu Murato]

Murato had come directly here after his walk. He knew he needed to. There were feelings he had that he needed to work through. And he looks like another man as he does so. His eyes are not orange, not the way they normally were. They had only a hint of that color, but now were nearly white. Like an ember sitting in the heart of a flame.

With each swing he lets out a kiai that was more pained than practiced or angry.

[Matsu Ishioka]

Not far behind the Kitsu comes another Lion. This one's feelings are well under wraps, but he could tell there was some similar energy in Murato as the bard had stalked through town.

"Good evening, Kitsu-san," Ishioka said calmly. He's not really dressed for a bout, but he sets his things aside and takes up a bokken. "I think a spar would do you well," the Matsu adds, face stony but voice vaguely insistent.

[Kitsu Murato]

He looks to the Matsu suddenly and with an aggression common in Lion, but less so in bureaucrats. He blinks with an exhaled breath, then nods.

"I think so as well, Matsu-san," his tone respectful but also full of anger.

[Matsu Ishioka]

Where a typical Matsu would respond with a toothy grin, Ishioka's face is impassive. He gives a small nod and steps forward, taking up an obviously defensive stance. Stone Matsu indeed.

"When you are ready, Kitsu-san," the bigger Lion says calmly, probably irritatingly like a sensei would in any dojo in Rokugan.

[Kitsu Murato]

Murato bowed his head. When it came back up, it did not do so all the way . His jaw was clenching tightly and obviously as he stared at the Matsu's chest.

A loud kiai, and a quick movement that could only be called sloppy by even a first year junior sensei at a bushi's dojo. It was uncontrolled, wild and for all the energy it had, there was a lack of actual power or focus. Like he was operating on exhaustion, and hadn't slept in a day. And the truth is he hadn't the last time he had slept was the previous afternoon. He was well under rested.

[Matsu Ishioka]

Ishioka's bokken slides into position to parry the strike, and the two wooden swords crash together, jarring both men. The Matsu's eyes barely blink, and he uses his bokken to push Murato back. It's not followed by a counterattack as Ishioka slightly adjusts his stance and then watches to see what the Kitsu will do next.

[Kitsu Murato]

What he does next is something that would get you killed on the battlefield, no exceptions. After being turned around by Ishioka, Murato begins his next swing with his back turned, spinning to strike, again, poorly. It was about as graceful as an ox riding a tortious over a mountain... not at all.

[Matsu Ishioka]

The wild attack doesn't impress a patient fighter like Ishioka, who deflects the swing and steps forward to knock the Kitsu back with a thrust of one shoulder. In his raging state, Murato may not notice that although Ishioka had stayed silent, the look in his eyes has turned reproachful.

[Kitsu Murato]

Knocked back, he stumbled over his own feet, falling to the mat. He at least learned the first lesson and kept to it. The bokken did not slip from his hand.

He punched the mat, planting his fist to climb to his feet. He turned to Ishioka and came again, with another kiai and a two handed overhead slice that was barely more than what a child swinging a stick could muster.

It was all a pretty embarrassing showing, and it was clear that he should be better than this. The way he moved was what Ishioka might expect of a man that had been fighting for hors non-stop.

[Matsu Ishioka]

The reproachful Matsu eyes rather expected this attack and Ishioka is more than fit enough to manage a fight with an exhausted man. Just as the overhead strike is beginning, Ishioka sidesteps the attack while spinning and extending a forearm to effectively clothesline Murato.

As the dark-haired man ends up on his back, bokken two feet away, and the stern looking Matsu towering over him, Ishioka says calmly, "Your sensei taught you better than this. Get up and tell me why you aren't yourself." The standing man leans in, extending a hand.