The draken had to admit curiosity at how her unpleasant neighbor would do in his match.  Had nervousness prompted his hostility? Arrogance? Or a false sense of superiority?  It was a quick match.  There didn’t seem any particular finesse in her ex-neighbor’s movements, just brutal efficiency.  While simplicity could hold its own beauty, Setsuka wasn’t finding herself particularly inspired by the match.  She rather doubted any of the others present were feeling awed if the wary gazes the guards were leveling on the victor was any indication.<br/><br/>The grey-clad loser slowly got to his feet, eyes searching for his opponent.  He didn’t look pleased either.  This time, she couldn’t help her sigh from becoming audible.  The mood seemed to have become a lot worse suddenly.  The next two combatants were a nervous, clumsy mess.  It was hard to tell if they were truly that unskilled or unsettled by the previous display.  As the crowds were thinning and she had no desire to be last, Setsuka walked over to the man guarding the practice swords.<br/><br/><span style="color: gray">“May I?”</span>She inquired, a finger pointing at the blades to clarify her meaning.  The guard lifted one of the swords and handed it to her with a curt nod.  Taking the hilt in hand, she could immediately feel the weight was off.  The sword seemed to drag to the right and in her hand, it was begging to be go flying in one strike.  With a smile at the guard, the brunette stepped around the other immortal, placed the sword back, and picked up the next one.  This one was more balanced, but a twirl of her wrist showed it too long for her height.  She replaced it as well, this time pausing to evaluate the swords arrayed before her.  Its structure was different than the backsword she had learned growing up, so it was inevitable there wouldn’t be a perfect match.  Nonetheless, there had to be at least one she could wield in one hand without feeling like a moron.  The next two selections were closer to what she was looking for but still not perfect.  She had swung them both a few times and even started a kata before deciding they weren’t right.  She was still testing the fifth sword when the guard finally spoke up.<br/><br/>“Think that one’s good enough?  It looks like you’ll be next.”  Setsuka froze mid lunge, eyes travelling to the guard, who simply nodded in the direction of the commanding officer.  Though another match was still going on—not the clumsy ones from earlier—the commanding officer’s gaze was on her.  Straightening from her lunge, sword dangling at her side, she executed a quick bow of acknowledgement, replaced the sword in hand, and picked up the fourth one she had tried.  It had been the best fit of the lot but not as comfortable in her hands as her own backsword.  Unfortunately, neither battle nor commanding officers waited on her schedule.<br/><br/>When she came to a stop by the commanding officer, he called the match to an end and sent her in with an upwards nod of the head.  To her surprise, the opponent walking in to join her was the same immortal as earlier who had won his bouts in quick succession.  Sometime between then and now, he had changed out of his blue uniform into a grey one.  A smile threatened to break out on her lips.  Interesting!<br/><br/>She brought her hands together for a salute (standard in her clan), leveled her blade at her opponent, and charged forward.  All four of his opponents had started their matches this way before getting thoroughly trounced.  One step away from clashing into him, she reversed her momentum and skipped backwards, leaving her sword and presence in front of her.   As she’d expected, he had already moved to the left, starting his counter-attack, only to find she wasn’t where he had expected.  Her sword struck up at his exposed throat.  He was barely able to get a block up in time, which was a good thing because at this angle and with this unfamiliar sword, the draken wasn’t sure she could have stopped it in time from slicing his neck.  Instead, she slammed her body into his, pushing him off balance and to the ground.  Her left hand grabbed his sword arm, ki adding weight as she dragged her hand up to his sword hand and twisted to force him to release his blade.  With him face first in the ground and her leaning against his twisted wrist, he’d either risk breaking his shoulder to get free, and impale himself on her sword, its tip poised over his exposed neck, or surrender.<br/><br/>He flailed once, trying to get sense of what limbs were free, but stopped at the sensation of blood running down his neck.  She could hear a muffled snort from the ground before his free hand waved: “I yield.”<br/><br/>Setsuka removed her sword first, maintaining the pressure on his arm in case he got any (not so) smart ideas, readjusted her grip on his wrist, pinned his hand to the small of his back, and then skipped back two feet, mildly surprised when no hand swept out to try to grab her on her retreat.  Her uncle was always trying to grab them at the end of their practices.<br/><br/>Instead, her opponent got to his knees and shook out his arm and shoulder.  Getting to his feet, he leveled an impressed, appraising look on her.  Suddenly self-conscious of all the stares on her, the draken hurriedly brought her hands together (always salute at the end to close out a spar!), waited for acknowledgement of the spar’s end from her opponent, and then sped walked out of the arena and into attempted anonymity.