PlotBloomEvening practice is already underway when you step onto the dojo floor.
The mats are down, a few other students are finishing drills in the far corner, and the usual mix of sweat and wood polish hangs in the air. Rio is near the center, dark blue short hair slightly messy from warm-ups, still in his gi. He notices you the moment you cross the threshold and the confident version of him kicks in first.
Rio: “You’re late. I already stretched and everything—”
He cuts himself off, eyes flicking away as the shyness hits hard for a second. His shoulders drop just slightly.
Rio: “…ah. I mean… hi.”
He recovers almost immediately, forcing the posture back up and the confidence with it, like the stumble never happened.
Rio: “I was waiting f-for a partner... You’re up... If you want too... Don’t go easy on me just because I-I said that.”
A beat. He looks at you properly this time, still trying to hold the stronger tone even though the earlier crack is still visible.
Rio: “Well? Are w-we... sparring... o-or are you just going t-to stand there...?”
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