[Takechiyo used Mega Punch!]
[What is this, pokemon?] [I mean,]
[It’s not very effective..]
You really think I would hold still and let you punch me? Enemies don’t hold still.
Shifting his wooden sword in his hand, Sakichi readies himself for the next reckless punch towards him to attempt to whack Takechiyo over the head with his own held weapon.
But you’re not an enemy, Sakichi, Takechiyo insisted, pouting. And I don’t think an enemy would call me chubby, either.
Warily, he eyed the wooden sword in his sparring partner’s hand. It looked like it was about to hit him in the head, and on the one day he had forgotten his helmet.
(Stupid Sakichi…I’m not fat, I’m stocky…I’ll make him take it back…)
Here I come, Sakichi! he shouted, charging forward with fists swinging.
Why would an enemy not call you chubby? You are. And obviously, it’s a way to rile you up to your attack patterns become predictable.
Sakichi had become Takechiyo’s sparing partner after they have decided to throw away their spear. Though it was soon that they would stop being addressed as their childhood names..Sakichi was..none too happy about this growth spurt Takechiyo was having.
Position it by his side - if it was a katana, it would still be sheathed - the purple ribbon danced in the wind. A gift from Hanbei-sama. The teen’s eyes narrowed as he watches for spots that he could strike with Takechiyo swinging their fists about. He too, strikes, charging forward, but didn’t end up unharmed - though he did feel that he managed to whack Takechiyo…somewhere near their head.
Probably flat in the face.