（ with wakefulness, with consciousness, with life comes work. his, it seems, did not die with him. he remains unconvinced any of this place is real, but he can't afford to assume the possibility it isn't — of all the regrets in his life, the opportunity to undo that first, worst betrayal is worth whatever hope he may yet cleave to.
he gives himself time and space for recovery, even then marred by breathing exercises, meditation and the willful application of chakra to various tenketsu. a man unaccustomed to weakness and driven by will, the two days he takes are the closest thing to luxury he's known in years.
still, when he arrives at the training room — dressed simply and carrying nothing of note — he doesn't look out of place, merely pale. he moves like a man assured of what his body can do, and while he is still quite damaged there is none of the self-consciousness that generally accompanies pain, nothing grimaced at or guarded.
his eyes are dyed that unnatural, catherine wheel-red of the sharingan as he observes the instructor go through the ropes with a trainee from the doorway. the man has the air of a natural teacher, patient warmth he recognizes all too easily, and while there is no suggestion of chakra to anything he does, any motion he makes, he is not unskilled.
rather than interfere, or risk offering distraction, itachi satisfies himself with a polite nod to the teacher before taking up residence near the farther wall, going through the motions of base taijutsu in slow, measured patterns. he keeps track of the man and his student only peripherally, in the same way he has been taught since birth to be aware of anything that may be a threat, but it does not surprise him that the man approaches him after the student has departed.
he stops halfway through the ninth pattern, lowers his hands, settles easily and waits for the man to address him. ）
II; we gonna defeat some huns
he gives himself time and space for recovery, even then marred by breathing exercises, meditation and the willful application of chakra to various tenketsu. a man unaccustomed to weakness and driven by will, the two days he takes are the closest thing to luxury he's known in years.
still, when he arrives at the training room — dressed simply and carrying nothing of note — he doesn't look out of place, merely pale. he moves like a man assured of what his body can do, and while he is still quite damaged there is none of the self-consciousness that generally accompanies pain, nothing grimaced at or guarded.
his eyes are dyed that unnatural, catherine wheel-red of the sharingan as he observes the instructor go through the ropes with a trainee from the doorway. the man has the air of a natural teacher, patient warmth he recognizes all too easily, and while there is no suggestion of chakra to anything he does, any motion he makes, he is not unskilled.
rather than interfere, or risk offering distraction, itachi satisfies himself with a polite nod to the teacher before taking up residence near the farther wall, going through the motions of base taijutsu in slow, measured patterns. he keeps track of the man and his student only peripherally, in the same way he has been taught since birth to be aware of anything that may be a threat, but it does not surprise him that the man approaches him after the student has departed.
he stops halfway through the ninth pattern, lowers his hands, settles easily and waits for the man to address him. ）