[Mamoru is a well-practiced reader of people, even if he can no longer read expressions as well, he reads what the voice says beyond the words it utters, the shift of weight and the tension of certain muscles. He could notice the way Siegfried's shoulders seem to lower, the release of his neck as he hears what he has to say, the twitch of his cheek as he smiles - so the guy can do it - shifting the gridded outline of his face, the hold of that huge sword.
He focuses instead on the way the air seems suddenly thinner, far from satisfying to his lungs in just one gulp. An inexperienced fighter, or one with their heart in their sleeve, would get a hitch in their breath, a faster heartbeat.
He uses that same pump of blood to the rest of his body to cross the distance fastfaster in a lunge, a full out iai - the drawing of one's sword out of its sheath as a full attack. He doesn't announce his attack, doesn't need to. And it's only when their blades clash that the grin on Mamoru's face is fully visible. Sharp like the edge of their blades.] I thought so.
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He focuses instead on the way the air seems suddenly thinner, far from satisfying to his lungs in just one gulp. An inexperienced fighter, or one with their heart in their sleeve, would get a hitch in their breath, a faster heartbeat.
He uses that same pump of blood to the rest of his body to cross the distance fastfaster in a lunge, a full out iai - the drawing of one's sword out of its sheath as a full attack. He doesn't announce his attack, doesn't need to. And it's only when their blades clash that the grin on Mamoru's face is fully visible. Sharp like the edge of their blades.] I thought so.