D
DemonioBlanco
Guest
Unitentionally, Saita let out a soft sigh of relief. Guard duty didn't seem so bad to him. He had very little if any experience with guard duty, and assumed that it would be no more difficult than "shoot what moves in the dark." He was mentally prepared to take a life, he assured himself. That was war. The side with the most dead men lost. Given his expertise in hand-to-hand combat, he always assumed that the first life that he took would be with his bare hands. Having the barrel of a gun between him and a corpse actually made the idea of killing someone bearable.
Kenjiro sighed once more and exited the tent. It wasn't everyday that someone, let alone some kid, came waltzing onto the rebel campgrounds. Despite the fact that the rebels were constantly on their guard, on the watch for intruders, this new intruder was someone that they didn't exactly know how to deal with. When Kenjiro had announced Saita's arrival to the higher ups, it sent them into a flurry of a debate. Kenjiro was not at all looking forward to having to save his own ass from getting thrown out of the army for taking mercy on a stranger, and Kitahara was unlikely to take the fall without arguing that Hatsuran had stuck around on his discretion.
「ひょっとすると憩いをすてね… {Maybe you should rest...}」Saita suggested. He perceived the tiredness in Kitahara's expression clearly with his own deeply blue eyes. Wincing, he took small steps to his own bed, and it creaked softly as he sat upon it. The boy sat upright, looking toward the other in front of him. Saita couldn't help but note how soft Yuujin's paleness made his features appear.
On an entirely superficial level, Saita silently envied Yuujin's color. In Saita's hometown, pale skin was the be-all, end-all of being physically attractive in any way. The standard of beauty in Ryozen was: 「雪の皮膚、烏木なの髪{Skin of snow, ebony hair}, and that was what people strived to look like. Saita felt that his natural sunkissed with silver hair appearance was a curse of sorts, despite the fact that his own features were finely developed. He often wished that he wasn't "backwards" in his own looks.
Despite this persistent insecurity, Saita managed to keep up an air of confidence about him. Sitting upright, back straight, he clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back a little. 「警戒振りね？多分銃を得るな…豪快だよ。 {Guard duty, hm? I'll probably get a gun. Exciting!}」The tone of his voice was raised in true anticipation. He raised his arms, be placed his hands in their air as if he were holding a rifle with his finger on the trigger. 「反動…強い反動がすき。{Recoil... I love the 'kick'.}」he grinned as he spoke. There was something... Perhaps 'eerie' in his expression. Maybe it was the eagerness to be his hand on a weapon that contributed to it.
Kenjiro sighed once more and exited the tent. It wasn't everyday that someone, let alone some kid, came waltzing onto the rebel campgrounds. Despite the fact that the rebels were constantly on their guard, on the watch for intruders, this new intruder was someone that they didn't exactly know how to deal with. When Kenjiro had announced Saita's arrival to the higher ups, it sent them into a flurry of a debate. Kenjiro was not at all looking forward to having to save his own ass from getting thrown out of the army for taking mercy on a stranger, and Kitahara was unlikely to take the fall without arguing that Hatsuran had stuck around on his discretion.
「ひょっとすると憩いをすてね… {Maybe you should rest...}」Saita suggested. He perceived the tiredness in Kitahara's expression clearly with his own deeply blue eyes. Wincing, he took small steps to his own bed, and it creaked softly as he sat upon it. The boy sat upright, looking toward the other in front of him. Saita couldn't help but note how soft Yuujin's paleness made his features appear.
On an entirely superficial level, Saita silently envied Yuujin's color. In Saita's hometown, pale skin was the be-all, end-all of being physically attractive in any way. The standard of beauty in Ryozen was: 「雪の皮膚、烏木なの髪{Skin of snow, ebony hair}, and that was what people strived to look like. Saita felt that his natural sunkissed with silver hair appearance was a curse of sorts, despite the fact that his own features were finely developed. He often wished that he wasn't "backwards" in his own looks.
Despite this persistent insecurity, Saita managed to keep up an air of confidence about him. Sitting upright, back straight, he clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back a little. 「警戒振りね？多分銃を得るな…豪快だよ。 {Guard duty, hm? I'll probably get a gun. Exciting!}」The tone of his voice was raised in true anticipation. He raised his arms, be placed his hands in their air as if he were holding a rifle with his finger on the trigger. 「反動…強い反動がすき。{Recoil... I love the 'kick'.}」he grinned as he spoke. There was something... Perhaps 'eerie' in his expression. Maybe it was the eagerness to be his hand on a weapon that contributed to it.