Kaito gave the guard a slight nod as the man unlocked the cabinet that contained his yumi and ya, resisting the urge to fidget. Regardless of the fact that he'd been assured of not being denied, Kaito wasn't used to having to ask permission to get his archery supplies or his shinai, and the sudden change was discomforting. The austere shooting range didn't help; even though targets had been set up for his use, it was a place obviously meant more for guns than bows and arrows, and it was a far cry from the quiet, natural surroundings Kaito was used practicing in. There was nothing to be done, though. He'd have to adjust.

Stepping around the guard as he walked away, Kaito reached into the cabinet and pulled his yumi out. He looked it over carefully for damages or problems, then nocked the tsuru on the urahazu and swiftly strung the bow. The alignment was good, so Kaito collected his quiver and headed over to his shooting area. Taking a deep breath to center himself, Kaito adjusted his yugake and hefted his yumi in his left hand. The elegant, seven foot, three inch bamboo yumi had been a gift from his family for achieving jun-nikyu ranking last year, and Kaito still marveled a little at the beautiful draw it had.

His family had always practiced the bushakei style of kyuudo over kishakei, something that was reflected in his hassetsu. Bushakei was the style of the foot soldier, kishakei the style of the mounted archer. Kishakei was more commonly called reishakei, or ceremonial-style, because of it's closer associations with Ogasawara Ryu ceremonial archery. Kaito was, technically, capable of both, but shooting reishakei required far more thought than shooting bushakei did. Kaito held his hanare unwaveringly for a long moment, then released, arrow hitting the center of the target with a quiet but satisfying thud. A small smile pulled at his mouth as his moved through zanshin and into yudaoshi, collecting another arrow to shoot again. That had been a good shot.

Miko was bored and decided to head down to the shooting range to get some practice in. After the experiment from the night before when she had been forced to shoot at her fellow residents in an elaborate fake out, she figured she could use the practice. Also, it would be a good way to channel the anger she had at being tricked. Bastards! I do my duty, I attended all the sessions without complaint, I even agreed to teach a few sessions and that’s how they repay me? It was disgusting but why should Miko be surprised? This place was full of bastards and the biggest one ran it.

Not that she’d ever say that to Wilson’s face. No, Miko was far smarter than that. Right now it was better to go along with the man who held the key to her freedom. So far it had served Miko well in the many months she had spent in the unit and allowed her to reach a senior level among the residents. A level with a pay and it was the money that also help keep Miko under Wilson’s thumb. When she thought of the handsome sum, the Japanese woman felt calmer and more composed. Just remember the money, she thought as she entered the shooting range.

Surprisingly, Miko found someone had already beaten her to the range. And was practicing Kyūdō ? Interesting, Miko thought as she silently entered, glancing at the guard who was supervising. Obviously she couldn’t shoot a gun with the boy practicing so instead Miko stayed back and watched him. His movements showed his skill and good form, the boy was clearly experienced Kyudoka.

"グッドショット". Good shot. Wasn't that the same boy who had attended her combat session earlier? Kaito? Miko continued speaking in Japanese. "Have you been practicing long?"

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OOC: Red words are in Japanese. Miko's clothes

Kaito paused, dropping his hand from reaching for a third arrow as he turned to face his visitor with a smile.

"ありがとうございます," he replied, bowing his head a little. Thank you very much. "I'm glad you think so, Taoka-san. I just started practicing a few minutes ago, but I can go do something else if I'm bothering you."

It felt good to speak Japanese again and not have to worry about other people not understanding while doing so. Kaito wasn't bad at English, but he wasn't entirely comfortable with it yet. The sentence structure was all weird, ‘subject-verb-object’ instead of ‘subject-object-verb’. Not to mention all the idiomatic slang and the mismatch of various other languages thrown in. Japanese made a lot more sense.

Miko smiled, pleased to finally hear someone outside of Salome speaking in Japanese. Though she was fluent in English, French and Mandarin, it was nice to be able to speak in her native language with someone. ”You are not bothering me”, Miko assured the young man. ”I was going to practice myself but that can easily wait. It is not often I get to watch someone practicing Kyūdō. I certainly have not had the opportunity in the past few months”. It was not a martial art that Miko herself practiced but she had seen demonstrations before as an ex-boyfriend from her teenage years had been a member of the kyūdō bukatsu at their school.

Her ex’s skill was nothing compared to this boy’s. ”How long have you been a kyūdōka?" Miko inquired as she studied the boy. Immediately Miko took note of his height and frame, estimating silently how much he weighed and filing the information in the back of her mind. Whenever Miko met someone she observed them closely, studying them for the purpose of mimicking them. It often resulted in Miko rudely staring at the other person for a long time, which she knew was rude and frankly didn't care.

Since she had been too busy teaching a class earlier, Miko hadn't gotten a good look at the young man but was now making up for it in spades. "May I ask what part of Japan you are from?"

"I'm from Minato-ku, in Tokyō" Kaito answered, shifting a little under Miko's gaze. "My family owns a dojo in Asabu. Kyūdō is one of the disciplines we teach, so I've been practicing pretty much my whole life, though I wasn't actually allowed to draw a bow until I was five."

He smiled at her again, the expression more genuine than just polite this time, but just as honest. "What about you - where are you from?"