‘Taking a break’ was a way of putting it that might’ve downplayed what Atagi’d been doing, as he couldn’t really neglect his training even if he wanted to– but that was as much apart of his life as breathing, so even on ‘vacation’ he was liable to constantly keep up the honing of his body’s physical form. The defeat, and a crushing, humiliating one to boot, had made him realize the limitations of his own body more than ever. Once his arms were reformed, they needed a little encouragement and education, so to speak, in acting as his limbs once more, which is a sentence that even with context seems completely ludacris. Truth is stranger, one supposes…
It might’ve been a bit too far, that much was true, and honestly speaking? If it was someone else saying it about themselves, or another, Atagi would’ve snapped up to defend them just as quickly, a quick reprimand and a ‘don’t say that you’re pathetic! It’s not true!’ or something equally cheesy and forward, along with a similar reprimand about how nobody gets to choose when they die, how sometimes it just
happens and that to blame anyone for it would be unfair and foolhardy. It was a blindspot, perhaps, that even someone who was as much of an egoist as him was perfectly fine with a little self-deprecation, from time to time. It’s apparent that he realizes this, too, from the sheepish expression at his features and the brief aversion of the eyes– he might’ve stated it like it was an absolute truth, but he’s never too abashed, too proud, or too shy to walk it back if the scenario dictates that he ought to.
The man doesn’t drop the battle stance, but he does raise up his brows and look down at the med-nin with concern after having bowled him over, blinking rapidly and throwing up a hand in the universal sign for ‘my bad’, a hand turned in front of his features and a winning smile.
”Apologies, apologies. Good reaction nonetheless, though, yeah?” A sprinkle of apology, a dash of praise, and all was well. It was funny; he knew he wasn’t
supposed to be bothered by the implication that he’d lost his drive, but even the great and all-loving Atagi Uzumaki can’t help it when his ego and self-images gives an inner huff and an outer response. It’s good, though, to be reminded of what ought to be important t’you every now and again.
He begins to slowly circle around Sho, maintaining a careful distance which he could strike from, like a snake coiling around prey. Adjusting the tempo up and dow was important for this type of training, too, so he didn’t get familiar and even used to
only being able to anticipate and respond to only one type of attack.
”You’re right, ultimately. If anyone can call what happened to me pathetic it ought to be me, but even then sometimes things just– happen, yeah? Nobody is pathetic whose thrown everything he has into living every day with vigour or passion or grace or humility or whatever they value most. Nonetheless, I’ll hold myself to an unreasonable standard ‘till the day I die.” It seemed like that last part was only supposed to be
mostly serious from the great deal of mirth that infected his tone, but gods knew he was also the type to really, honestly insist that anyone ‘make their dreams reality’.
Part of him considers layering further techniques together to up the proverbial difficulty setting for Shosuke even more- but that’d be getting ahead of himself, when they were supposed to be drilling the basics. Thankfully for his compatriot, the futon about his limbs did little on their own- they’d make his strikes faster, sure, but they wouldn’t cut him up, or anything.
Unless, of course, I willed them to. Better safe than sorry either way, though. he thinks to himself, giving an approving nod twice upon seeing Shosuke ‘glove up’ as well. Now the two of them looked like real shinobi instead of two regular hooligans duking it out on the training grounds.
”Fair enough! Still, you’ve gotta dare to dream, you know! Visualize yourself lifting up the trophy or you never will. What’s your trophy?” Actually, visualizing yourself celebrating is pretty close to the opposite of what you’re supposed to be doing, but at least he had the right spirit about it.
Atagi suddenly darts forward, lowering his body in a crouch and throwing a straight jab for Sho’s solar plexus, followed by taking advantage of the fact that he’s already lowered himself, partly disguising his subsequent action of rising for an uppercut with the other hand. The sweat was already beginning to flow, but the Uzumaki looks happy; chatting with a friend tended to have that effect.
(
Yamamoto Shosuke)