Xian Xiao
Elementalist
Xian didn't answer immediately. For a moment, she simply stood there, watching Noriko with a focus that didn't waver, letting the words settle in rather than deflecting them or pushing them aside the way she sometimes did when she didn't want to engage. Her arms remained crossed, but the tension in them shifted, no longer braced in defense but grounded in something steadier, as if she were holding onto the thread of the conversation rather than resisting it.
Eventually, she exhaled.
"Something with structure," Xian said, the words coming out sharper than she intended, but she didn't pull them back or soften them. They were honest, and she let them stand.
Her eyes stayed on Noriko, steady and unblinking.
"You're doing random kark that I don't need," she continued, the frustration threading through her voice now, not wild or uncontrolled, but present in a way that made it clear she had been carrying it for longer than she'd admitted. "I'm not going to need to know how to run," she added, her tone tightening even as her stance held firm, as if she were trying to keep the conversation from slipping into something less focused.
A small pause followed, the kind that wasn't hesitation so much as recalibration. Then, a fraction softer, not gentler, but more deliberate: "Fine. We can stretch."
Her gaze flicked briefly to the others before returning to Noriko, the shift quick but not dismissive, as though she were acknowledging the room without letting it pull her attention away from the point she was trying to make.
"But what about the lightsaber forms?" Xian pressed, the question landing with more weight now, more intention. "And martial fighting?"
There was no sarcasm in her voice, no attempt to undermine or challenge for the sake of it. The need behind the question was clear, pointed, and entirely sincere.
"I want to know what I'm actually working toward," she said, quieter now but far more serious than anything she had said so far. "Not just… pieces of things that might matter later."
Her arms loosened slightly, though she didn't drop them, the shift subtle but enough to show she wasn't trying to win an argument. She was trying to understand.
"I don't think I know better than you," Xian added after a beat, the words more measured, more honest, as if she were finally saying the part she had been avoiding. "I just don't understand what you're trying to teach me half the time."
Her gaze held steady, unwavering.
"And that's the problem."
Noriko Ike
Eventually, she exhaled.
"Something with structure," Xian said, the words coming out sharper than she intended, but she didn't pull them back or soften them. They were honest, and she let them stand.
Her eyes stayed on Noriko, steady and unblinking.
"You're doing random kark that I don't need," she continued, the frustration threading through her voice now, not wild or uncontrolled, but present in a way that made it clear she had been carrying it for longer than she'd admitted. "I'm not going to need to know how to run," she added, her tone tightening even as her stance held firm, as if she were trying to keep the conversation from slipping into something less focused.
A small pause followed, the kind that wasn't hesitation so much as recalibration. Then, a fraction softer, not gentler, but more deliberate: "Fine. We can stretch."
Her gaze flicked briefly to the others before returning to Noriko, the shift quick but not dismissive, as though she were acknowledging the room without letting it pull her attention away from the point she was trying to make.
"But what about the lightsaber forms?" Xian pressed, the question landing with more weight now, more intention. "And martial fighting?"
There was no sarcasm in her voice, no attempt to undermine or challenge for the sake of it. The need behind the question was clear, pointed, and entirely sincere.
"I want to know what I'm actually working toward," she said, quieter now but far more serious than anything she had said so far. "Not just… pieces of things that might matter later."
Her arms loosened slightly, though she didn't drop them, the shift subtle but enough to show she wasn't trying to win an argument. She was trying to understand.
"I don't think I know better than you," Xian added after a beat, the words more measured, more honest, as if she were finally saying the part she had been avoiding. "I just don't understand what you're trying to teach me half the time."
Her gaze held steady, unwavering.
"And that's the problem."