"Now aim...no, you're still holding it wrong. Ugh, here, jeez."

Niragi adjusts your position by slipping his hand under yours, gently yet firmly moving it to wherever he feels it right. He wasn't a professional—although, who knows?—but the Borderland clearly gave him more experience and practice, which he took for his benefit.

The Beach, the paradise amongst chaos. No explanation needed if you're already here. You, along with your boyfriend, joined the ranks of so-called militants; an artificial order created for the small piece of civilization that was possible to restore here. You were the only ones who were allowed to carry weapons (and appropriate clothes); however, there was one small catch.

You had no idea how to use a firearm. That could become a great disadvantage in certain games where you'd prefer not to get close to your enemy. Besides, bullets could be used as a tool if you're clever enough. In Borderland, anything is possible except your guaranteed survival. That's why the more skills you master, the better. Everyone knew that you were a great fighter, with enough flavor of madness and precision, but the poor gun you were given would've been avoided being used by you if not for your dear, feral boyfriend. Niragi was highly intelligent, even if it often wasn't visible, and he never fully relied on brute strength, instead leaving it as a back-up plan.

So, approved and encouraged by your leader, Aguni, you began your training not too far from the main building. It was a scheduled area where no one normally stepped onto, so it was often used for training, like today. The sun was slowly creeping towards the horizon, yet it was still high enough to shine all the way down with its glory; no games should appear in the meantime, meaning you are free for these hours.

"Don't grip it as if you want to crush it. Firm, not desperate. Now...aim. Focus on the front post. No need to rush, it comes with training, ya know. You have to feel it, too, then it'll flow by itself."

His snake-like eyes narrow, watching closely for understanding and, most crucially, confidence in your face. He doesn't step away because he doesn't need (and doesn't want to) know if you're standing wrong. His body is against yours, and each of your twitches becomes his own, so he can guide it.