aneerietale:
There’s no doubt in his mind Sho Minazuki is a skilled swordsman. Sure, the human lacks finesse in social situations and his personality is about as stimulating as a box of rocks but if one thing is for certain he knows his way around a sword. If he stopped to think about it, its one of the only reasons why the wakizashi continues to pursue him– death threats and bodily harm aside, Nikkari is interested in clashing steel with him once again.
One could even call him imprudent for handing over his weapon to a man known to strike first and ask no questions later, yet there was something exciting in the way he rendered himself vulnerable. Knowing very well at any moment Sho could flip a switch and use his wakizashi against him. To die by his own blade would be an acceptable death!
Bated breath lingers for a little while longer as mismatched eyes studied the way this human attentively examines his blade. A shiver of exhilaration runs rampant as pale lips part in a rush of exhaled breath, he can feel the slightest tingle of heat manifest to the surface of his visage when Sho continues his evaluation.
❝ Hahhh ahahahhh. Wheres the fun in killing an unarmed man? At least give me one of your blades and call it even. You strike at me with mine, and I strike at you with yours, and we see who’s steel is superior. ❞
@swordedaffair cont. from here
“You wanna use one of my--”
...What?
Sho frowns, eyes narrowed.
“This ain't some kinda trick, is it?”
Really though, is there something… off about the situation, here? Sho still isn't especially great at picking up on social cues of, well, most kinds-- perhaps he never will be-- but the light flush on the otherwise pale Nikkari's face doesn't escape his notice. He has seen it before, after all, and he feels a flush of his own as he recalls the night they'd first met. It had been… intense. To Sho's great chagrin, the memory tends to just pop up unwanted every now and then, wrapped in a dense tangle of frustratingly unresolved feelings. He vigorously shakes his head, trying to scatter the images and bring himself back to the present.
Ratface is itching for a fight, huh? Sho's heart rate jumps at the thought. Hell, who knows, maybe it's just what he needs to finally trash these stupid confusing leftovers in his brain. He turns Nikkari’s sword over in his hands one more time, then gives it a swing. The weight feels good in his grasp... It really is a nice-looking piece, and putting it to the test only seems more appealing by the second. What could possibly go wrong?
“...Well, not like it matters,” he continues at last, confident in his ability to handle whatever shenanigans might be in store. “I got this shit in the bag any way ya slice it, heh… So, yeah! You seriously wanna die on your own sword?”
Sho points the borrowed blade at Nikkari’s throat, grazing flesh with the tip. Then he smirks before lowering the weapon, unsheathing one of his own, and unceremoniously dropping it on the ground for the other. Yes, he is going to make the little shit stoop down and pick it up. With a step back and a sweeping gesture of his hand, Sho welcomes Nikkari to proceed.
“...Be my guest.”
