there's more than meets the eye, there's more than meets the price [OPEN]

[its_dad_sanzo]

Who: Koumyou Sanzo, OPEN
Where: Carriage J: Music Carriage - upstairs, in silence
When: Forward-dated to Jelly 4!
What: Sneaky solo martial arts practice a couple days before the next mission. Folks are welcome to catch him doing his thing, despite his effort to be secretive. If you ask for lessons (in anything, ever), he will almost certainly say no... but folks are totally welcome to try to convince him. (Also if anyone wants to just ATTACK, he'll adapt accordingly.)
Warnings: Otoha thread has some sensitive topics (warned in the comment titles). Devero thread same and same, but also some kinda graphic self harm injury shit from Koumyou etc.

xxxxxif you can't see the sky there's too much artificial light

Muscle memory requires rote practice. Patterns mastered, then broken, to keep one's actions independent in a real fight. Even at his level, Koumyou needs to sharpen the blade once in a while, lest he lose his edge when he needs it most.

Koumyou Sanzo has picked a time when most of the train seems otherwise occupied. Maybe it's the middle of the 'night' and they're sleeping, or perhaps this is a typical meal time in the dining car. One way or another, he's gone out of his way to have as few witnesses as he can, tucked upstairs in the silent music car.

He stands still in the middle of the stage, and checks one last time that the room is truly empty, at least here at the start. Satisfied, Koumyou drops his center of gravity, bare feet sliding into position. One hand tucks against his shoulder, the other out before him, fists loose.

Breathing carefully, in through the nose, and out through the mouth... slowly, he lets his eyes slip shut.

And then he begins to move.

A block, a duck, a shift to one side. Another block; flowing, diverting an imagined attack away with the edge of an open hand. A step back, one kick at the level of a stomach. Spinning to the right, his braid and the long ends of his clothing flutter behind him. Fluid, each graceful movement morphing into the next without hesitation or pause.

There is nothing rigid here. Not until it's needed. A fist tightens at the instant of impact, not a moment before. The snap of force in the air, even without a real target, is audible in the quiet room.

If one watches him for more than a second, one can almost see the invisible opponents rushing him. They come from all directions; some are even armed. With a knife he side-steps, with a sword that he ducks beneath to rise again with the arc of an uppercut palm-strike. To a chin? A nose? ...A throat?

He flips as though it's easy, as though up and over someone who had been rushing to tackle him from behind. Landing, the heels of both palms snap out in a strike to their back, his whole body behind the movement. And then he's gone, rolling backwards, momentum changing directions as fast as a stray gust of wind. Up with another kick; that foot comes down, and he spirals out and up into a spin-kick aimed even higher than his own head.

Sometimes, he gets quite close to the drop off the stage. But he never actually touches the edges, and he certainly never falls.

Koumyou's braid whips behind him as he moves. His long sleeves flutter behind each sweeping attack or diversion of his arms. The hem of his robe skims against his bare ankles with every wide movement of his legs. Light though it is, the bamboo breastplate on his chest barely shifts on his thin frame. The sutra certainly doesn't go anywhere, though the ends and the back both flutter as if it were real paper.

It would be easy to turn this into a dance, and it would be equally easy to turn this into death. There is not a single second in which he isn't moving, flowing, striking, diverting.

If left alone, this will go on for a while longer.

His eyes do not yet open; his movements do not yet slow.

He will not lose his edge.

Comments

[subcircuits]

Devero hadn't even realized his shoulders were hiked up, but they sure do relax noticeably when Koumyou doesn't seem upset by the intrusion. He doesn't hesitate to quit his seat when he's invited. Joining Koumyou on the stage, he folds his legs to sit right there beside him.

"I've never seen anyone as good at that as you," he says, very obvious awe in his voice.

[its_dad_sanzo]

The smile Koumyou shoots him as he sits down with him is so very fond.

"Well, that's probably a good thing if you haven't."

Devero's world is so very soft, there's probably no use for people like Koumyou there.

"I'm just trying not to slow down with age, you know? Though it tires me out a lot faster than it did in my twenties."

[subcircuits]

Devero's smile is a little shy as he returns it. He can't help but feel inadequate in the face of a display of skill like that, though he tries to keep that crushed right down inside.

"There's nothing slow about what I just saw," he reassures him. Teasing gently, he continues, "Your twenties are a bit behind you now, huh, old man?"

[its_dad_sanzo]

"You're going to hurt this tired old man's feelings someday," Koumyou teases right back, drying his face with one of his sleeves. "I'm pretty sensitive about my age, you know!"

It's only half tease, really.

After all, he still feels like Devero would be better off finding someone who isn't thirteen years older than him.

[subcircuits]

"You're not the oldest person I've-- n-never mind." Thou shalt not invoke Valdana, Devero.

"Besides," he says quickly, trying to rush right past that faux pas, "you're only as old as you feel, right? Isn't that what everyone says?"

[its_dad_sanzo]

"If that's true, then I'm in even more trouble!" Koumyou laughs, fanning his overheated face with one hand. "Gods know my bones feel positively ancient on any given day."

He's flexible and limber and so much stronger than he looks, as Devero well knows. But that doesn't mean things don't creak and complain.

[subcircuits]

They do, and Devero knows that, too. He leans towards him. "You know what you need?"

[its_dad_sanzo]

Koumyou tips his head to one side, curious, "New bones?"

[subcircuits]

That's so far off from what Devero was expecting that he bursts out laughing. "I was going to say a cold drink and a hot sauna, but that's an option too."

[its_dad_sanzo]

Koumyou laughs, too. "Oh! Your idea sounds a lot less messy."

[subcircuits]

"If we had Doc Nat and her surgical suite here, probably about the same, actually," Devero says with a laugh. "But we don't have Doc Nat and we do have cold drinks, so I guess our choices are limited."

[its_dad_sanzo]

"But either one means I have to get up," Koumyou whines dramatically, and...

Flops onto his back.

He's tired, let an old man rest for a minute!

[subcircuits]

"I could always carry you," Devero points out. But he actually lays out on the stage beside Koumyou, propping himself up on his elbows.

[its_dad_sanzo]

"You could," Koumyou confirms, amused. He's not the least shy about being seen like that, so it's not even remotely a threat!

[subcircuits]

But was it a thread? Or was it, perhaps, an offer?

He lays down the rest of the way, though, crossing his arms behind his head and looking up at the lights above the stage.

"...Training for the mission?" he asks after a quiet moment.

[its_dad_sanzo]

"Mm," yeah, "I did a lot of fighting on the last mission, so I want to make sure everything's still working right, you know?"

It's like a weapons-check, but with his own meat and bones. Because what is a Taisouji-trained Sanzo priest, if not a weapon?

[subcircuits]

"Yeah." He knows. (His own weapons-check on his meat and bones hasn't been progressing great.) He turns his head to look over at the priest. "Given that show, I assume you found everything in order?"

[its_dad_sanzo]

"Other than my stamina, perhaps," Koumyou confirms, and rolls onto his side to face Devero, propping his head up on one hand. "I guess I need to do a lot more running around on the train."

Won't everyone be thrilled.

[subcircuits]

Devero laughs. "How about I roll you out of bed in the morning and we go jogging?" he asks. It is not entirely clear if he's teasing or if this is a genuine offer.

[its_dad_sanzo]

"Maaah, if you want to, sure," and Koumyou smiles at him, "at least if I'm not trying to doze back off..."

It's really a crap-shoot on any given morning if he's going to get up quick or linger for a while.

[subcircuits]

"If you leave it up to me, we'll be doing it every morning," Devero warns him, grinning. It is actually one of the first things Devero does with most of his mornings; he's almost always an early riser, which Koumyou will definitely have noticed by now, even after only a few days.

[its_dad_sanzo]

"...You're literally going to roll me out of bed, aren't you, Dev-chan."

He's really torn between resigned and amused.

"It's your fault if I take more naps all over the train as a result!"

[subcircuits]

Devero sits up enough to reach over and give Koumyou a shove in the shoulder, one that should be hard enough to rock the priest. "If I have to!" he says cheerily.

Apparently he is at least somewhat teasing, though, because he flops back again after the push. "How about this: I'll only force you to jog with me on the mornings you're actually awake when I wake up. If you're not, I'll let you sleep. Sound fair?"

[its_dad_sanzo]

And Koumyou flops dramatically onto his back at the shove, his previously-higher arm flying out to hit the stage with a dull smack! Oh! He's been defeated!!

"You're so thoughtful, my wonderful Devero!" he gushes despite his theatrics, beaming over at him, "That sounds perfect."

[subcircuits]

Just for saying he's not going to force Koumyou to wake up and exercise with him? Surely that's part of the theatrics too, that gushing. His smile turns flustered and he has to look away. "I-it's a plan, then," he says to the lights and the slightly curved ceiling of the train above them.