（ and on it goes. blows thrown and avoided — one lands a glancing blow on his cheek when he was half a heartbeat too slow.
(sloppy. he would have gotten killed for that, back home.)
for a normal human, his opponent lasts longer than he'd anticipated, but ultimately it does draw to a close. itachi's breathing is somewhat harder than normal, and his chest clenches around every inhalation like a fist. he can taste blood, acrid and rotten at the back of his throat, and he smothers a cough that feels like his diaphragm lurching upwards. a delicate thumb swipes at the blood that's gathered on his lower lip in a fine mist from the very act of breathing.
(he's pushing himself too hard, he thinks. but it barely feels like hard enough.)
he palms the blood off surreptitiously against the black fabric of his shoulder, and then he offers out his hand to help the other man back to his feet. ）
no subject
(sloppy. he would have gotten killed for that, back home.)
for a normal human, his opponent lasts longer than he'd anticipated, but ultimately it does draw to a close. itachi's breathing is somewhat harder than normal, and his chest clenches around every inhalation like a fist. he can taste blood, acrid and rotten at the back of his throat, and he smothers a cough that feels like his diaphragm lurching upwards. a delicate thumb swipes at the blood that's gathered on his lower lip in a fine mist from the very act of breathing.
(he's pushing himself too hard, he thinks. but it barely feels like hard enough.)
he palms the blood off surreptitiously against the black fabric of his shoulder, and then he offers out his hand to help the other man back to his feet. ）