He didn’t mean to but it was easy to ignore everything when faced with his own demons.

The thought alone made him tense up. He tried to distract himself with anything he could. And with Kuzunao-sensei in front of him, leading the way like some shepard, it wasn’t hard to find a worthy pastime. He found himself staring at the back of her neck. For an embarrassed moment he wondered what she might smell like. He hadn’t actually considered it till now but a woman like her, she had to smell especially rich.

When she turned to activate the sparring room, Yasuo aimlessly gravitated to the center. Her voice reached him loud and clear but was barely being registered. He nodded as if knowing she was looking at him. Once she left, he made his way to one-side and begun to undress.

His uniformed jacket came off first, followed by the navy blue sweater. He smiled tentatively as he loosened his tie and unbutton the first two buttons of his dress shirt. His fingers paused on the second button out of realization. This was his ritual, this was how he prepared himself. . . to win. He smothered the anxiety of battle with a trance of making himself comfortable

Yasuo stared blankly at the floor. He sighed, then before she came back donned all his clothes again. Kuzunao-sensei returned wearing a aikido uniform. Yasuo unwrinkled the collar of his uniform jacket before responding to her, “You think you’re ready, Kuzunao-sensei. God, I sound like some dweeb. Remember, if things turn ugly you put me down like a rabid dog. No questions asked.”

He stepped forward, standing there without any noticeable stance or flicker of movement. His blood starting to boil for the action.

“You start it off. I can’t initiate.”