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KHR Rarepair Week - Earth - Flirt Fighting
Takeshi Yamamoto can cut through illusions now, with all the ease of one who can breathe.
What kind of illusion hardly matters. Shallow illusions, meant to fool the eye easily? He can discern them in an instant, possibly before his mind has even caught up with him. There are many like that in the underworld, of course - one cannot be a part of the Arcobaleno if not able to do even that, although sometimes, with those in their number, one must wonder. Regardless, since he is still a youth who has only just stepped into high school and had no contact with the underworld for most of his life, dues must be given.
Real illusions? The moment when reality and fiction blur, when mist offers up all the truth that one could ever find necessary? Oh, oh, but he cuts through those even quicker. Even harder. Takeshi Yamamoto cuts through mist and flame and reality like a predator snaps its teeth down through the fragile neck of a rabbit. Bone breaks under teeth. Illusion breaks under blade.
And perhaps, just perhaps, there are other illusions he can cut through, too. The kind of illusions that anyone can craft, even without mist flames freely at their disposal.
Out of everyone in this annoying tenth generation of the Vongola, besides Tsunayoshi himself, it is Takeeshi Yamamoto who is most inclined to getting in the middle of his fights with Kyoya Hibari. Out of everyone, again besides Tsunayoshi, he is the one most skilled at doing this, and he takes a sort of relaxed cheer to it. "Ha ha, you know, I don't think Hibari-senpai really wants you getting in the way lately," he says one day, after one more interruption, dulling the power of his illusions with a swing of his sword that brings rain about like a wave. "This is going to be his last school festival, you know, probably, so he has a lot on his plate!"
Most of it seems to be running a typical yakuza protection racket, quite frankly, which is hardly that important at all.... although Mukuro supposes it is true that he seems more distracted than usual, this last year, since they have fought. The culmination of that precious school life which he seemed to hold so dear, for all that he apparently skipped more classes than he took.
That just makes him want to ruin it more, quite frankly, and maybe that shows on his face as he makes multiple feints towards the swordsman. "Perhaps if he wishes so little attention, he should stop taking up so many fights, hmm?"
His trident plunges forward. Goes straight for those legs Takeshi Yamamoto seems to pride, that have carried him through his baseball games and held his stance perfectly in place. A serious attempt. But it is because it is such a serious attempt, he knows it will be parried, simple and cleanly, and Takeshi Yamamoto is in his face, still smiling. He never seems to stop. "Ha ha, I don't know if you can really talk! But you know, if you want someone to keep you company, then I don't mind being your partner instead."
It's said almost like a pick up line - and as someone who as slipped in amongst various clubs and bars and places further deep into the ground than any of those, Mukuro can recognize that much. Ha. Someone trying that sort of thing is a laughable idea. He twists his trident, tries to disarm Takeshi Yamamoto, but the blade merely slips from his like rain. "Do you truly think, then, that you can keep up with me in battle so often?" he mocks.
"I don't think you'd stick around in this for that long if I wasn't," Takeshi Yamamoto says, relaxed, skipping away a little bit from the massive range of his trident. "Although it doesn't have to be fighting, if you like. I don't mind being your partner at the school festival, either."
That makes him stop, keeps him from raising his trident again, although mist still swirls in quiet patterns in the air around them. "Now now, Takeshi Yamamoto," he says lightly, "one might think you are asking me out on a date, when you phrase it in such a way like that." And he never took him for a flirt, for all the apparent popularity he has at school.
Takeshi Yamamoto grins at him, swinging his sword up to rest along his shoulder. "Well, since you seem to like me fine enough, with how you never hold back, I thought it was worth a shot asking you! I mean, I don't think I was wrong."
How terribly cheeky. Mukuro chuckles, as he often does, and smirks over at the teenager. "So many pretty girls who would like your attention, but instead you come asking a wanted criminal. Or were you not as popular as I was lead to believe, hm?"
Some people care about such things. Takeshi, however, seems apathetic, and shrugs again. "I mean, would it matter? You're the one I'm asking about."
Ken will probably throw a fuss, and whine, and Chikusa might stalk him. Mukuro consider the question with at least a little bit of time devoted to it, before he turns away with a dismissive sweep of a trident. "Why not come and find me the day of, and we'll see what my answer is?"he says cryptically, before he uses the mist to hide his presence, for all the good it does him in front of eyes like those.
Still. A school festival date, is that so? In all his years in Japan, he's never actually been. His plans have always taken up his time, along with being pulled into any nonsense that the Vongola seem to attract. The idea, from a distance, had seemed ultimately dull and trite. All fakery and the shallow little lives of humans who did not know the fragility of their own existence, who pretended that they were better than the darkness that they were so stubbornly avoiding.
...But it could be amusing, he supposes. And the food would be passable, with perhaps some interesting explosions mixed in considering he knows that the Poison Scorpion seems to have amassed some fans there, as a chef.
It would almost certainly infurate Kyoya Hibari.
Perhaps he may accept this little date invitation from Takeshi after all.
What kind of illusion hardly matters. Shallow illusions, meant to fool the eye easily? He can discern them in an instant, possibly before his mind has even caught up with him. There are many like that in the underworld, of course - one cannot be a part of the Arcobaleno if not able to do even that, although sometimes, with those in their number, one must wonder. Regardless, since he is still a youth who has only just stepped into high school and had no contact with the underworld for most of his life, dues must be given.
Real illusions? The moment when reality and fiction blur, when mist offers up all the truth that one could ever find necessary? Oh, oh, but he cuts through those even quicker. Even harder. Takeshi Yamamoto cuts through mist and flame and reality like a predator snaps its teeth down through the fragile neck of a rabbit. Bone breaks under teeth. Illusion breaks under blade.
And perhaps, just perhaps, there are other illusions he can cut through, too. The kind of illusions that anyone can craft, even without mist flames freely at their disposal.
Out of everyone in this annoying tenth generation of the Vongola, besides Tsunayoshi himself, it is Takeeshi Yamamoto who is most inclined to getting in the middle of his fights with Kyoya Hibari. Out of everyone, again besides Tsunayoshi, he is the one most skilled at doing this, and he takes a sort of relaxed cheer to it. "Ha ha, you know, I don't think Hibari-senpai really wants you getting in the way lately," he says one day, after one more interruption, dulling the power of his illusions with a swing of his sword that brings rain about like a wave. "This is going to be his last school festival, you know, probably, so he has a lot on his plate!"
Most of it seems to be running a typical yakuza protection racket, quite frankly, which is hardly that important at all.... although Mukuro supposes it is true that he seems more distracted than usual, this last year, since they have fought. The culmination of that precious school life which he seemed to hold so dear, for all that he apparently skipped more classes than he took.
That just makes him want to ruin it more, quite frankly, and maybe that shows on his face as he makes multiple feints towards the swordsman. "Perhaps if he wishes so little attention, he should stop taking up so many fights, hmm?"
His trident plunges forward. Goes straight for those legs Takeshi Yamamoto seems to pride, that have carried him through his baseball games and held his stance perfectly in place. A serious attempt. But it is because it is such a serious attempt, he knows it will be parried, simple and cleanly, and Takeshi Yamamoto is in his face, still smiling. He never seems to stop. "Ha ha, I don't know if you can really talk! But you know, if you want someone to keep you company, then I don't mind being your partner instead."
It's said almost like a pick up line - and as someone who as slipped in amongst various clubs and bars and places further deep into the ground than any of those, Mukuro can recognize that much. Ha. Someone trying that sort of thing is a laughable idea. He twists his trident, tries to disarm Takeshi Yamamoto, but the blade merely slips from his like rain. "Do you truly think, then, that you can keep up with me in battle so often?" he mocks.
"I don't think you'd stick around in this for that long if I wasn't," Takeshi Yamamoto says, relaxed, skipping away a little bit from the massive range of his trident. "Although it doesn't have to be fighting, if you like. I don't mind being your partner at the school festival, either."
That makes him stop, keeps him from raising his trident again, although mist still swirls in quiet patterns in the air around them. "Now now, Takeshi Yamamoto," he says lightly, "one might think you are asking me out on a date, when you phrase it in such a way like that." And he never took him for a flirt, for all the apparent popularity he has at school.
Takeshi Yamamoto grins at him, swinging his sword up to rest along his shoulder. "Well, since you seem to like me fine enough, with how you never hold back, I thought it was worth a shot asking you! I mean, I don't think I was wrong."
How terribly cheeky. Mukuro chuckles, as he often does, and smirks over at the teenager. "So many pretty girls who would like your attention, but instead you come asking a wanted criminal. Or were you not as popular as I was lead to believe, hm?"
Some people care about such things. Takeshi, however, seems apathetic, and shrugs again. "I mean, would it matter? You're the one I'm asking about."
Ken will probably throw a fuss, and whine, and Chikusa might stalk him. Mukuro consider the question with at least a little bit of time devoted to it, before he turns away with a dismissive sweep of a trident. "Why not come and find me the day of, and we'll see what my answer is?"he says cryptically, before he uses the mist to hide his presence, for all the good it does him in front of eyes like those.
Still. A school festival date, is that so? In all his years in Japan, he's never actually been. His plans have always taken up his time, along with being pulled into any nonsense that the Vongola seem to attract. The idea, from a distance, had seemed ultimately dull and trite. All fakery and the shallow little lives of humans who did not know the fragility of their own existence, who pretended that they were better than the darkness that they were so stubbornly avoiding.
...But it could be amusing, he supposes. And the food would be passable, with perhaps some interesting explosions mixed in considering he knows that the Poison Scorpion seems to have amassed some fans there, as a chef.
It would almost certainly infurate Kyoya Hibari.
Perhaps he may accept this little date invitation from Takeshi after all.