Saka Hirozumi
Saka crossed his arms over his chest as he remained resting against the wall, listening to the two women talk between themselves before finally speaking up on the matter of his private garden situation. "I think the floral scent fits the room personally, and it adds a little bit of diversity to that ugly wall paint and color scheme." Saka had reached back over to retrieve the beer after Jael had stole a drink of it, to take another swig, only to set it back down only moments later. "So... You're a swordsman?" An illuminated pair of iris's were now coming to settle on Snow, Saka was hardly one to find trust in new people or people he did not know and Kurai had witnessed first hand how that can unfold. Saka was more or less withholding interrogation since this man knew both Kizu and Kurai, every fiber in his being ached to peel open this unknown man's psyche and find out if he was truly a friend or foe; To see what made him tick, but Saka would not show it and would bite his tongue and play this out calmly. Kurai would never have to walk in on Saka torturing some poor soul in the kitchen sink again, so he pushed the next question out from behind a calm curtain. "What discipline do you use? Which style does your sword strike by?" Easy goes it Saka, don't jump the gun.
Hearing a question being thrown at him, the swordsman turned his attention to a face he doesn't recognize. Assuming it was just idle talk, the swordsman opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself suddenly when Saka pressed more questions onto his lap.
"Weeelll.."
Rather eager, ain't he? Perhaps...
Nah. Must be his imagination. The swordsman pointed at his belt, where the dual katana blades were tied to. "If the blades on my hips didn't give it away already, then perhaps this would." He pulled on the side of his longcoat, revealing a row of throwing knives bundled neatly within the coat's interior, easy to pull out and throw at a moment's notice. "Disciplines, styles...once you learn so many, they tend to blur together and become something that is beyond just guidelines and techniques. Who cares if there's a specific way in using a blade, or some adhering principle that must be done during a particular pose or gesture? Once your weapon becomes second nature to you, does it really matter? If there is such a name for this, then perhaps..."
He stroked his cheek a bit in thought.
"Formless style, maybe?"
