Mi Hermana y Yo

Oh. Oh. Carmen looked off to the side for a moment, as awkwardness filled the room like a visible funk. She'd sort of walked into that one headlong.

She paused for a moment, not entirely sure how to respond to that, blinking with a blank face while she tried to sort it out. After a few seconds she decided it was better just not to at all. Maybe they could pretend the last thirty seconds hadn't happened and moved on with the day.

Though, wow, Amy's relationship with Army suddenly made more sense.

"Okay," She croached down and reached in her bag, fishing around until she found a pair of sparring gloves. She hand them over to Nathan, then brought out some pads of her own. "Let's run a few drills and see how well your moving, firsthand. After that? We'll see."

Nathan took his time with the toe touches. Was he being fair? Amy was legitimately kicking his ass before she reached for his dick, after all. Nathan felt compelled to clear the air, but he was too relieved that the moment was over to open his mouth again. For his part, he would have been totally on board with striking the last thirty seconds from the annals of time.

Nathan took the gloves from Carmen and turned around to put them on. He strapped himself in and hit his fists together. Then he turned around bouncing. "Alright, good to go."

Carmen was oh-so very glad that Nathan was willing to change the subject, though the thought was still ruminating around in the back of her head. She wasn't anyone to judge, really - though she didn't participate in official hentai matches, her first and only Friction foray had ended on an erotic note, and she'd had a few private 'mathes' since then. She kept it professional in the ring, but outside was a different story.

Even so, she couldn't help but wonder what, exactly, Amy and Army had been doing before she came home, and if they'd bothered to keep it in his room.

She looked straight on and focused on Nathan, holding out the pads as she started to tap about the ring to give him a moving target. "Left, right, one, two, let me see it."

Nathan took a moment to try and see things from Carmen’s perspective, what it was that she saw now that he’d answered all of her questions. His past was good, that much he recognized, but his more recent performance left a little something to be desired. And the whole hentai thing. That wasn’t something he was into; that was just a vestigial rule from when Amy and he used to date. But that wasn’t something he was about to bring up again, even to clear his name.

The evaluation came up… mediocre. Maybe even just under that. All he had going for him was the string of wins he had as a student. He needed only to have gotten fat to be the quintessential glory-day past-dweller. He couldn’t have that.

So when Carmen gave him the green light, he decided to let loose a little. The first handful were warm ups- one two adjust, one two adjust. He felt the old muscles in his shoulders loosen as they creaked back to life after years of disuse. Then he hit a little harder, breathing out with his punches, throwing them a little faster, and maybe moving a little more on his feet than was necessary for such a basic drill, his body remembering a sliver more with each movement.

Nathan's sudden burst even had Carmen a little awestruck. Not because she hadn't seen faster - though Nathan was fast, no question there - she just wasn't exepecting him to go so hard so early. Nothing drastic, just more than she anticipated, and she could hardly fault him for putting too much energy into it. It was refreshing, really, and it was starting to get her a little pumped up, too.

"Nice!" She yelled after a particularly crisp combo that left her palms stinging. "Real, nice! Okay, okay," She picked up the pace and started to lead him around the ring, as she brought her pads up to her sides. There was more than a little of her father's tone in her voice, now. "Let me see some hooks, left and right, make it stick." She did a quick pivot on her back heel for a sharp change in direction, testing how well his footwork kept up.

Nathan's energy seemed to encourage Carmen, and her shouting fed right back into his own enthusiasm. "Okay!" he acknowledged, his feet never stopping for a second. Nathan followed Carmen forward, only to have his targets swing away from him. No problem, it was easy enough for him to skip around to compensate when his feet were already moving in the way they were. Thwak Thwak. This time, muscles in his hip and back started to activate. Oh hey guys, welcome back. It's been a while.

Carmen did her best to keep the smile down, trying not not break the veneer she'd set up. Nathan was heating up, getting into the groove. Familiar muscles were moving, reflexes were kicking in. He was waking up.

Carmen circled around him a bit more, forcing him to keep up as they turned. She mixed it up with some quick changes in direction to make him guess. Always moving, always thinking. "There we go, there we go."

She broke up the pace and moved back in, taking a more offensive pose. She swiped his way with a jab from each hand for him to dodge, then brought the pads back in. "Coming in high, get me low."

Things were going well. It was like an old dance he'd forgotten. He might not have been able to verbalize exactly what it was that he was doing, but, with a little review, his body was remembering the steps for him, and it was like he'd never been away.

Then Carmen switched things up again. She moved in and took a swipe at him, but Nathan was not ready. Reflex brought his hand up and rolled his shoulder forward, and Carmen's jabs bounced off of his guard, but Nathan winced; not from any pain, but from the lost momentum- that wasn't what she'd wanted. He felt his vision widen again, and the soft ambient noises of the gym crept back into his awareness as his focus started to wear off. He shook his head, sweat flying off of his hair. Come on, Nathan.

"Sorry." He hit his gloves together. "One more."

He got it right the second time. And the third. Dodging it turned out he'd kept in a very shallow box in his mind, and it wasn't long he was able to get back into his rhythm again, ducking twice under her pads, then striking them as he popped up.

Carmen clicked her teeth as the pads slaps Nathan around a bit, wishing she hadn't put quite so much force into the swing. Not that there was anything to really worry about, since he did a fine job of rolling the blows off. She just had to be careful not to push him so hard that he went over the limit. Keep in mind that, even though he wasn't as rusty as she thought, there might be still be a few creaks and rough spots.

But he did say he was ready for another round, and he certainly looked the part. So she gave him what he wanted...with a little more on top.

She started out at a normal speed for the first few swipes, then she started going a little faster, putting some pressure on him to keep up. She even made things a little trickier by shifting to the side and forcing him to work the angles as they went on. His eyes would have to be on point to keep up.

"Alternate." She started switching positions on the pad, encouraging Nathan to think on the fly and mixed up the combinations.

Carmen was speeding up, slowly but surely. The increases were incremental, but they didn’t escape Nathan’s notice. How could they? They were forcing him to kick his concentration into overdrive, and to remember details that he’d learned a lifetime ago- tighten your slip, throw down a little more aggressively with the shoulders, stay mobile. He was able to adapt quickly and without too much trouble; this part wasn't the problem.

It was the constantly changing targets that were the problem. His eyes couldn’t quite track Carmen’s movement yet, so his hits still came moments behind where he would have liked, giving him the impression that he was making Carmen wait for it. If he tried to speed up, his punches didn’t quite hit with the precision that he’d gotten used to. They never missed, but more than a few jarred the pad without sounding that satisfying thwak. To top it all off, the sweat on his brow was starting to become annoying; he’d need a haircut before their next session.

It was frustrating, but Nathan was glad all the same. Here was a clear problem area that he knew how to work on, something he could focus on and drill into himself. He didn’t have much, but he did have work ethic. He was never more comfortable than when he had his nose to the grindstone and was working toward a concrete goal.