[That look of curious disinterest was like a punch to his chest, and Takumi looked away to try and gather himself. He knew this was a possibility, someday. He also knew that it meant, in some time and place, Ryoma had died. Who? Who could possibly defeat Hoshido's greatest warrior? What had happened to that world's Takumi? Were they all dead, or was that Takumi now the Crown Prince? The possibilities rushed around his head and made it hard to breath. He recognized the feeling as building panic, and gripped his practice sword so tightly his knuckled creaked and turned white.
He was so worked up, that what happened next had very little to do with his head at all, and everything to do with the mounting pain in his chest.]
Hey, you! You're a good swordsman, right? Spar with me.
no subject
He was so worked up, that what happened next had very little to do with his head at all, and everything to do with the mounting pain in his chest.]
Hey, you! You're a good swordsman, right? Spar with me.
[ What?]