long, long ago in a place of hearts and ghosts

"You're a monster," Rin declares, panting for breath as he leans his weight on the handle of the wooden sword Rukia had given him when they'd started practicing. She's insisted on exactly what Shura had -- starting Rin directly at the starting line. He hates it no less now than he did then, but there's not much he can do about it. He can't go shopping for a sensei, and even if he could, Rukia is the most perfect.

Doesn't change the fact that he's soaked from head to tail in sweat, even in the autumn air (he runs hot to begin with,) his t-shirt is sticking and itchy, and if it weren't for his ridiculous beastly healing, he's got no doubts he'd be covered in bruises and suffering through a sprain of every muscle in his body by now.

This was somewhere Rukia and Shura differed. Where Shura believed in skivving as much as possible, Rukia was the definition of hands on. He eyes her warily from across the weedy field they've been treading down for the last hour (after he had biked here from the city), far outside the city proper. There was no place in the city that seemed like a safe choice. Everywhere he could think of was either too public a place, or the necropolis. It was hallowed ground, so that made it a no-go, even in the dead of night. Rin could enter its borders, but that didn't mean he didn't spend the entire time there feeling like he was being watched and breaking into prickles.

"I'm really gonna die. How are you still so fast?"