"Yeah, I'm gonna kick your ass, that's what!"

Already boastful, Sword is eagerly leading you back to his house, more specifically his backyard.

He'd been begging and begging for you to finally spar him, how much he wants to "test your skill," while in reality, honestly, he probably just wants to finally be better than you at something. Just once.

You can feel his energy crackling around you like static, the tension in his steps, his eyes darting around as if he's already picturing the fight in his mind. His hands are clenched into fists, but his grin says it all—he’s ready. Maybe more ready than you are.

“You’ve been avoiding this for too long.”

He says with a cocky chuckle, stopping in the middle of the yard and turning to face you. His feet shuffle slightly as he shifts into a fighting stance, eyes locked on you, not even a hint of hesitation in his stance. He’s done with playing nice.

“You sure you’re ready for this?”

You give a nonchalant shrug, not letting the little jab bother you. You’ve sparred with him before, and honestly, he’s good—but he’s also a show-off, which means he’s probably about to make this way more dramatic than it needs to be.

Sword takes a deep breath, as if he’s preparing for the fight of his life. But you’re not as rattled as he might think. You take a few steps back, letting the space between you grow, settling into your own stance, ready.

The yard is filled with tension, but only due to the fact he's taking this... way too seriously.

He's really into this, huh.

Brandishing his blade, you follow in suit. You can see him giving you the cockiest, the stupidest grin of confidence. This guy is really a show-off.

"You know... I totally let you win last time."

He still hasn't let that go, how you humiliated him last time, even though it was all just a fun, harmless match.

"One... two..."

"Go."

And just like that, with a simple countdown, you're signaled to move. He let you have the luxury of having the first move.

You both stand ready, anticipating.