The metal clashes against each other loudly. The sharp sounds disrupt and terrify the resting birds. They squawk noisily and flee in clusters from the safety of their nests in a nearby tree.
"Again." He says and you're already out of breath.
Your hands tighten around the handle of your blade. You draw a deep breath. You bend your legs and then you let go of your breath. Your arms cross as you bring the weapon right above your eye line. The katana now points at your formidable opponent.
He smiles at you and shifts his body. He brings himself to a half squat and his hands swing his sword above his head with great elegance. You see his fingers dance along the tsuka (handle) made of complete patterned silk and his grip strengthens.
He deflects your careless slashing with a multitude of parries and his quick, unexpected counter knocks the sword out of your hold. The high-carbon steel spirals through the air before it pierces the sod a few feet away. And your eyes which had been following the katana remembers where it actually needs to be; your gaze whips back in your opponents direction.
The tip of his sword, now, sits just at the skin of your neck. He lets out a quiet chuckle before he lowers his weapon.
"You're thinking too much." He shakes his head at the way you rush in with little regard for technique.
"We've been at it for hours." You pant. Physical work that requires a lot of calculated prediction is actually quite mentally exhausting.
"Don't ask me to train you." He wears an innocent smile, like he always does and then he does a little thing with his arm to gesticulate what he means, "If you can't keep up."
You grumble under your breath and you throw him a pleading look, "Okkotsu...."
"Alright, alright." He throws a hand behind his head and laughs wholeheartedly, "And how many times do I have to tell you? Just call me Yuta."
"Thank you.......Yuta." You sigh heavily and throw yourself to the ground while Yuta retrieves your blade before situating himself next to you. It felt too informal despite the years you've known him and despite all the time the two of you spent together.
It's a beautiful day. You close your eyes to enjoy the warmth of the suns kiss. It was much needed after a brutal morning. The man looks at you with admiration and then he lowers himself to lay down beside you. You always had a hungering need to improve yourself. No matter what it took. He respected you so much for it. Your eyes open and the two of you take pleasure in this quiet cloud gaze. These wisps that travel across the earth take many abstract shapes ranging in animals to objects.
You had no problem pointing out your imagination to Yuta. Including all the ones that resembled phallic symbols, "Whoa. Look at that...."
With a genuine smile, he rolls his eyes at your immaturity, "You would point something like that out."
"What??" You smirk, "It's funny."
It hasn't been long since you graduated from jujutsu high, Kyoto. It was all thanks to the second-year teacher Kusakabe Atsuya. If it weren't for him you wouldn't be a well respected grade 1 sorcerer who has also mastered the New Shadow Style. Although you didn't have an innate technique or anything really quite special, you were still a renowned swordsman.
You spent most of your years wielding tanto's and wakizashi's (all forms of shorter katanas). It wasn't until recently you took interest in the traditional katana. There was no better person to help guide you than the special grade sorcerer, Okkotsu Yuta. The man himself has been swinging the damn thing since it was given to him as a first-year student many moons ago. Sometimes you couldn't believe it was Zenin Maki who taught him all the basics of combat. They were nowhere near the same level (with all due respect and in no offense to the girl).
"I guess it's kinda funny." He agrees and then he reminds you of something that you don't want to be reminded of, "Are you ready for tomorrow?"
The request bestowed upon the both of you by the higher-ups wasn't anything special or exponentially urgent, which annoyed you, "You pretend like we even have a choice anyway."
Okkotsu Yuta isn't a hard person to please and neither is he a difficult person in general. He's kind, gentle and very moldable to the people he cared deeply about. He was never the type of person to deny anything from the higher-ups, unless it seemed unreasonable. Despite some previous events which may have seemed like betrayal they still, till this day, put much faith into the man.
"I guess not." He says but he's unbothered and then you wish you could carry that type of attitude he always exudes; an exercised patience.
"After all these years." And your mind recalls some of the past, "You Tokyo delinquents somehow still manage to get everyone involved."
"Hey, who are you calling a delinquent?" He asks with furrowed brows. The guy spent most of his time overseas. He's mildly offended.
"Okay. Maybe not you. But isn't Gojo there? Why summon us?"
"There's been reports of many curses popping up." Yuta makes a face, one of concern, "And I'm not talking about the usual pest extermination."
"Leave it to Gojo Satoru." You make a noise to depict your understanding but you're still annoyed, "Itadori's consumed at least 5 fingers since his initial one in Sendai. He hasn't lost control of his body since the first one. We're just wasting our time traveling all the way there just to babysit a feeding. If anything, we should be helping Gojo with more important things."
In some aspects, Yuta couldn't agree more but he also wasn't one to disagree openly, "Some things are beyond us, (y/n)."
You sigh and your attention goes back to the heavens. You relax much more into your sprawl and a few strands of loose hair dance across your face gently as the wind came by. You continue to watch the clouds drifting slowly.
"Hey, Okkotsu—I mean, Yuta." You say and you've been meaning to bring this up with someone—anyone.
"Hm?" He hums with curiosity.
"I've been dreaming a lot lately."
"Is that not normal?" He laughs and he's not sure where you're going with this.
"It's always the same dream. Well, maybe even a nightmare..." Your mind tries to replay the sleeping visions and your eyes fixate on the whites that enveloped the sky with unwavering attention.
He turns his head to look at you, "What is it about?"
"You know...I can never seem to remember too much of it." Your eyes narrow as you try to recall, "It's always real dark and there's a guy. The same one—I think. Each time. I can't really make out his appearance or the way his voice sounds....."
"Interesting...." Yuta averts his eyes back to the sky.
".....but the more I have this dream. The more clear his voice gets." You shrug, "I don't know. It's so strange."
"What do you think it means?"
"I'm not sure." You shake your head, "I was going to ask you that."
Yuta makes a noise as he goes into deep thought but then he says something you deem insignificant and worthless, "Do you have a crush on someone?"
"Alright, I was thinking along the lines of something deeper." You deadpan, "But to answer your question, no. I don't."
"Sorry." He laughs. He also has no answer for you but the man attempts to reassure you, "Maybe you're stressed? I wouldn't worry about it too much."
You nod but his reassurance wasn't very assuring at all. Sure, a dreams a dream. And it's not to say that dreams can't be inconsequential. Because sometimes they are and sometimes they don't mean anything at all. But what worried you the most is the fact that these dreams started when the special grade curses began spawning repeatedly. And in all things related to this paranormal world you live in, you couldn't help but think that there may be more to it than you let on.
Yuta notices your blank stare and your sudden silence. He knows your train of thought (he is your good friend after all). With an elbow, the guy pushes himself up to a half laying position and he looks down at you; this act grabs your attention.
"Don't worry." A very promising smile takes over his honorable features.
You sit up and then you joke, "I was getting kinda worried just a moment ago when you were about to slice my head off."
Yuta laughs and he brings himself up to a full sitting position. And then he gets on one knee. His demeanor changes. It felt like a grab, your face lay in his hands now as he forces you to look him. And he's on a much more serious note. As aggressive as it may have seemed, he definitely had a soft way of going about it. His dark blue eyes look deep into yours. The guy needed you to trust him with everything you had. Because that's what he believed comrades to be.
"You can count on me. No matter what, I'll always have your back."