[If Souji had chosen to attack, Yamato wouldn't have held it against him. He knows what it's like to have your blood boiling--if he'd been the one to strike Souji down, there's no telling when he would've decided to pull back, if he did it at all. An enemy certainly wouldn't, and that's the whole point of this. For a sword shinki, practice like this isn't just about spending time with a good friend, or even studying good battle techniques; it's part of honing and sharpening his very existence. He'll never surpass his limits if he isn't pushed to them, and how could he ever fault Souji for granting him that opportunity?
He lets Souji reach for him and touch his face without complaint, gratitude and happiness and something else, something even Yamato couldn't have identified, shining in his eyes.]
No, [He says, even as he realizes his eyes are watering, spilling ever so slightly out down his cheeks and onto Souji's hand. That's odd.] it feels wonderful.
[It's a weird thing to say, but Yamato's a weird guy. He smiles, and in truth, his face is a little tender--he's got a nice red mark where the bruise will probably form, and he'll be lucky not to have a headache later on. But it's a good pain, and he doesn't mind.] Nobody else here knows the way I fight like you do, isn't that funny?
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He lets Souji reach for him and touch his face without complaint, gratitude and happiness and something else, something even Yamato couldn't have identified, shining in his eyes.]
No, [He says, even as he realizes his eyes are watering, spilling ever so slightly out down his cheeks and onto Souji's hand. That's odd.] it feels wonderful.
[It's a weird thing to say, but Yamato's a weird guy. He smiles, and in truth, his face is a little tender--he's got a nice red mark where the bruise will probably form, and he'll be lucky not to have a headache later on. But it's a good pain, and he doesn't mind.] Nobody else here knows the way I fight like you do, isn't that funny?