[ the space afforded to him is received with much appreciation. yasusada doesn't over-think the nuances-- if mitsutada picked up on his unfortunate instincts of stab or if it was his words that alerted him to the fact. ever-practical, he simply nods his thanks, and without another word, falls in step after mitsutada. it's not until they leave the dojo proper, sliding the door closed behind them dutifully, that yasusada really feels the kick that comes after the adrenaline rush, the soreness in his limbs, and the light-headed sensation that comes with being under the full sun after being cooped up all morning. outside, he blinks rapidly, pausing for a short, startled moment, before walking to catch up with the older sword.
as he walks, he tilts his head towards mitsutada, showing polite but sincere interest in every fibre of his being. ]
... were you the one who made lunch today, Mitsutada-san?
clearly the sweetest of them all
as he walks, he tilts his head towards mitsutada, showing polite but sincere interest in every fibre of his being. ]
... were you the one who made lunch today, Mitsutada-san?