fandomhighdorms | gym - sunday morning

Ino darted in, a little bit late, but hoping Liir wouldn't mind.

"Sorry," she said, looking sheepish. "Lost track of time."

He shook his head with a smile as he turned back from the sword drills he'd started on.

"I don't mind. Nothing troublesome, I should hope."

She grinned at him; relieved. "Nothing bad, promise, just playing out in my garden."

"Ah."

That explained it enough for him.

"Sorry about not bringing anything by this week," he said as he thought of it. "I've got a second job now, working at the Cafe Fina."

Is he as proud as punch? Yes, yes he is.

Ino could totally lose all track of time in her garden.

"I had wondered where you'd got to," she said lightly, "but I'm glad it's something as good as that. Congratulations! Is it fun?"

He nodded almost too fast.

"It's wonderful. I got to play about in a massive kitchen and the owners seem to like the things I made. I try my best, of course, but I know I've got a lot to learn."

He looked to her.

"I'll have to make sure I bring something by before I get to the restaurant. It wouldn't do to let you starve on Wednesdays."

He was kidding.

"Who owns it?" she asked curiously. "I'd heard through the grapevine that it had reopened, but not much more than that."

Ino stuck her tongue out at him. "I did," she reminded him, "survive well enough before you came to Fandom."

Edited 2008-04-06 23:40 (UTC)

"I know," he said primly, "but that doesn't mean I should let you do it anymore."

He was teasing.

"What're we learning today?"

She totally knew he was teasing. "But I suppose if you insist," with a smile, "you can stop by at some point with food. Wellspring gets opened way early when I work." Sometimes even before dawn has thought of showing around.

"Stances, I think," she said after a moments consideration, "unless... how's your meditation coming along?"

"Did I do so badly at attack?"

He was genuinely curious, but he didn't look upset at the thought.

"And my meditation progresses. I still can't stay inside myself without holding onto something very sure of itself, but it helps that my books had exercises that were similar."

...

Ino hadn't even considered that possible spin on her words. Oops. She flushed a bit. "You didn't do bad," she assured him quickly, "but it was just a way for me to see where you are and what stances you should work on more. And," she glanced at him, "what you prefer to attack with. Even with the same stances everyone's got their preferences."

"... holding onto something very sure of itself?"

He nodded.

"Some things are more real than others," he said. "I need to hold onto something very real to stay firmly within myself."

He pointed to the broom and it's quiver holster.

"The broom is real. The Witch's cloak is real. Other things are more or less."

...

That... wasn't helping.

"I don't get it," Ino said, glancing at the broom then back to him. "To me the broom is just as real as, like, my shoes or something. What's the difference? Sentimental value?"

He quirked. It was another one of those things that were just intrinsic to his world view that he didn't understand other people not knowing, another sense that he'd always sort of thought other people had because how could they not. But while he hadn't quite been able to discuss the nature of memories with Karal, he thought he'd give this a shot.

"Not... quite?" he hated that it sounded like a question.

"The whole of Oz knew of the broom. To the Witch, it was her way around as well as something that set her apart, almost like her Greeness. To Glinda, it was proof to her that I was who I said I was when I spoke to her, that I had the Witch's broom. To some of the Animals, the broom is a symbol of her. To me, it's... a lot of things. Even to Professor Ambrose, it means something. It's practically legendary, in a way. It's itself, and itself has a lot of, well, facets. It can speak. Sort of. Teach. It's... it's more--"

He breathed out.

"It's as I said. It's more real."

His mind scrambled at a way to describe it.

"All right, if you walked into a room with my things all around and the broom was leaning on the wall, the broom might very well be where your eye goes first. It might tell you 'this is Liir's room' where the books or the clothes or the bedding wouldn't speak as loudly. It's something you remember. When the rest of the world goes out of focus, it doesn't. Do you understand what I might mean?"

Edited 2008-04-07 00:27 (UTC)

"Like... on a big scale that'd be a symbol of state, or something?" Ino asked, puzzling her way through his explanation. "Like, every ninja village has its own symbol so that we can be told apart. So, if you've got a leaf on your forehead protector," never mind that she wore her protector around her waist most of the time, "you know 'them'?"

"A little?"

He scowled faintly, though only at his inability to put it correctly.

"More..." he breathed out.

"There is a tribe in the Vinkus who believe that there are two ways to be dead. The living dead and the dead dead. The living dead are those who are still kept in personal memory, those who someone still alive can remember speaking to themself, those for whom there are still people who can say exactly what color their eyes were. Or what color they preferred over the others. Then there are the dead dead, for whom all who knew them are dead. There is no one left for whom they were ever alive.

"The broom is... is believed in by many people. Many people in many times and places know it exists, or existed. It is real to more people, so it's more real. Everything exists to itself, of course. It has to. But the more people it's real for, the more real it is."

He looked at her again.

"So... sort of? That symbol on your protector is something the people of your village know of, believe in. It's a very 'real' part of you, that you wear it and what it means."

"I guess..." Ino said dubiously. "I'm not sure why that'd make such a big difference to the realness of something though. I mean, suppose you found something in an... an attic, right, and it was a famous artifact but you didn't know about it. So, then, wouldn't it be 'not as real' to you than it'd be to the people that know about it?"

"If it was believe in by others, it would be as real as that. You--"

His shoulders slumped.

"I can feel it," he said as he scrubbed his face. "I wouldn't know why it was so very real, but it'd be more real."

He shrugged.

"And it's not very important, at least most of the time. From what I'm reading in the books, it's harder to change something the more real it is. When it comes to practical application, though... it keeps me grounded, to hold onto the broom. That's all."

He felt uncomfortable and odd in his skin, like he was admitting to some perverse appetite he shouldn't have or some thought he shouldn't have thunk. Or perhaps just like he saw things that other people didn't see and usually that meant you were crazy.

He didn't want to be crazy.

"So... stances?"

Ino eyed him thoughtfully for a moment, then stepped up and hugged him tight.

"We can do stances if you want," she said. "I just don't understand what you're explaining to me, sorry."

He smiled at the hug, squeezed her, and kissed her hair. Yay height.

"I know. It's just very odd to think that people don't see things you think are so simple. And then you wonder if there's something wrong with you, after all.

"I'm not used to being very real," he admitted.

He looked around at the gym.

"Stances sound good."

It was his way of saying he was fine.

"You're real enough to me," she said, wrinkling her nose cheerfully at him. "And I like you that way, thanks. And for anything that I don't understand? I chalk it up to being from a different universe most of the time. Can't help not understanding then, you know."

Ino stepped back and stretched her arms. "Stances are totally good with me."

"Exactly."

But he let it go.

"You start, I follow. As per usual."

Crooked grin.

She grinned back at him. "Dangerous words," Ino said lightly. "What are your limits on that?"

She wasn't just asking about training. Ino was curious.

"You've already warmed up I saw, so we'll just go straight into stances." Ino danced back, then assumed one of the ones they'd covered a few classes ago. "Can you remember the sequence, going backwards from the last one I showed you to get to how I'm standing?"

He nodded and started going through it. He went slowly, almost as if he was learning it again in his strange way, but he got it in the right sequence.

She watched him carefully, nodding her approval when he made it to her stance. "Good," Ino said. "Can you do that quicker?"

He nodded.

"I can."

Now. He had to remind his muscles.

"Like this?"

He did it at roughly three times as fast.

She beamed at him. "Just like that." A beat. "Can you do it with every second stance then?"

He thought about that for a moment before, well, questioning his muscles.

He nodded in the affirmative a moment later.

Her chin went up, pure challenge. "Prove it."

He spent a minute before he did it running over it inside his head, using some of those techniques he'd learned in visualization to make the experience real enough to serve his purposes. Then, still running the tracks over inside his mind, his body started to follow suit. It was a little slower than what he'd just done, but faster than his first example.

It was, however, correct.

Considering how much he practiced (pretty much whenever he wasn't eating, sleeping, studying, cooking, or various activities that ended with 'with Andrew'), it wasn't terribly surprising.

She was still, really, ridiculously proud of him. That probably showed in her grin.

"Excellent," she crowed, clapping her hands together.

When you adore your teacher as much as he did, there was plenty of motivation to try.

He gave a brief bow after she clapped.

That made her laugh delightedly. "How does it all feel?" Ino asked. "More and more natural?"

"I still have to remind my muscles," he admitted, "but it's easier, yes. I think it's starting to affect how I move normally a little as well."

Something he'd only realized now.

"That's a good sign," she nodded. "That's when you know it's sinking in, if it's affecting everything you do."

"I only just now realized it," he said. "Good to hear, though."

That got a half-shrug. "It's just something that happens over time. Realizing it can take a while."

"So, next?" he asked, eager almost like a puppy.

She flicked her hands at him, amused.

"You're going to do every second stance--all the way from the beginning--and then you're going to do all the ones you skip over. Think of it like a game."

He 'groaned' at her playfully before he nodded.

"Fair enough."

"You know it'll help," she said. "And I know that you can do it."

"I trust your judgment," he said with a smile before he settled into the first stance.

And started as she'd told him to.

That got a different smile, an almost--shy--one before she tucked it away and grinned more like her usual self.

"And why not?" she asked lightly. "You're clearly learning."

He kept going.

"Thank you," was all he said to that.

gym - sunday morning - 4/06

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