Ryouta stepped into the dojo with an annoyed expression on his face. “I hate fighting…why do I keep hearing a voice telling me to do this? It’s not my own.” With a cursory glance, he realizes no one is in the dojo except for an big tough looking guy with a katana by his side. Ryouta approaches him.
“Hey man, are you the instructor here?”
The man points the katana in Ryouta’s face and responds, “Don’t call me man. It’s Sensei to you.”
“Uh huh. Whatever, I just want to appease the voice in my head.”
“You will end your sentences with Sensei, or you will regret it.”
“Right, sure thing, Sensei.” Is this guy serious? No helping it, I guess. “So…teach me, Sensei.”
The big guy stands. “Defend yourself!” With lightning speed, he picks up his katana and aims a slash at Ryouta. Ryouta jumps back with a surprised yelp. “Yo, Sensei, that’s not safe, it’s sharp!”
“Precisely the point. Teaches you.” The guy attacks again with a powerful stab.
Ryouta responds by drawing both his ninjato with seeming speed. The guy is just barely able to block. “A dirty trick. Too bad it didn’t work, and will only work once.”
Ryouta sighs. “True.” He whirls and begins aiming blows at the man’s torso and joints. His short blades prove something of an asset here, as he has to keep close in order for them to be of effect, and as such, the instructor loses the advantage of reach.
“Good, good, I don’t know if you’re doing it intentionally, but your strategy is technically sound.” The instructor manages to block with an iron guard, forcing a stalemate of sorts. Then, he gives a mighty shove, which knocks Ryouta backward, who almost trips as he frantically seeks a hold.
Ryouta sighed. “I hate fighting, you know that, right?”
“I don’t care. You will learn to be proficient and better.”
“That sounds like a lot of effort.”
“It should be.” The instructor looses a battle cry and attacks again, with greater speed. Ryouta is hardpressed to block, but he is able for the most part to deflect or block all incoming attacks, a look of intense concentration on his face.
“A smart guy, huh? I can always tell. You’re too analytical in your fighting. Let the adrenaline fill you. Use your rage. Control it, don’t let it cloud your mind, but use it!” The instructor continues to rain blows down on Ryouta.
“Sure thing, if you’d give me a chance to get a hit in edgewise.” Ryouta glares at the instructor as he continues to frantically block.
“No enemy is going to lie down and die for you.” The instructor launches a new barrage of stabs and cuts.
“Fine.” Ryouta bit his tongue. Pain! Anger. Rage. With a feral growl, Ryouta began a fierce storm of slashes and cuts with his twin ninjato. His arms were practically a blur as he rained his attacks down.
“Good, good, but don’t wear yourself out for one furious attack.” The instructor has to do a bit of fancy swordwork himself, as he is dealing with two blades. Ryouta is again bringing himself closer and closer, really using the length of his ninjato to his advantage. Unfortunately, he was tiring, and he knew it. Might as well give this a shot, he thought to himself. Ryouta feinted right with his left ninjato, but then brought it down and left, stopping it just at the instructor’s neck.
The instructor chuckled. “Very good. But look down.” He had his katana poised to stab Ryouta through the stomach.
“Let’s call it a draw, then,” said Ryouta.
“Haha, you’re ridiculous, boy. Rest for five minutes, and then we’ll spar again. You still have more to learn.” The instructor began some kendo form.
“Man, you gotta be kidding me.” Ryouta sighed and examined his Zanpakuto. “All right then. 5 minutes. You're a real hard-*ss, you know?”
The instructor only chuckles. "So I've been told. 5 minutes. Be ready."

Approved + 1.5. Try putting some detail in there.

“5 minutes is up. Let’s go.” The instructor stands, picks up his katana, and then launches a flurry of attacks at Ryouta. Ryouta’s breath is forcefully taken away as the instructor drives his elbow into Ryouta’s stomach. Ryouta falls to the ground, drawing his ninjato as he does so, then stands with them in a defensive posture.
“I suppose that was supposed to show me that I should always be ready. Let *me* show you something.” Ryouta threw himself at the instructor, with seeming disregard for his own safety, just constantly keeping up a steady offensive. He aimed a slash at the instructor’s right shoulder. Undeterred when the blow was blocked, he ducked low and slashed at the instructor’s knees. Jumping back, the instructor nodded his approval, and then pressed his own attack. Ryouta was forced to block with wild slashes.
I’m wasting effort…Ryouta crossed his blades just as the instructor thrust, catching them in an iron guard, but now he was in control. He kicked the instructor’s left knee with as much strength as he could muster. Both of them dropped with muffled oaths, one clutching his toe, and the other, his knee. Ten seconds later, they were at it again.
Ryouta began almost windmilling his arms so as to constantly be raining blows down at the instructor; this technique didn’t work as the standard horizontal block worked well against this kind of technique. Shrugging off this failure, Ryouta began a stabbing routine, constantly stabbing at the instructor’s joints and vital areas. This was more successful than the previous strategy, but again, the instructor was capable of blocking or deflecting all Ryouta’s thrusts.
Grunting with effort, Ryouta began a complex series of slashes and cuts. However, this time, he placed a lot of emphasis on movement of his legs. Ryouta was constantly moving, always moving. He circled the instructor one way, then the other, making his movements as unpredictable as possible. He ducked down to slash low, jumped high to come down from above. It was tiring, but it was definitely keeping the instructor on his toes. Slash at the neck, slash at the elbow, quick cut at the knees, again at the neck, then the wrist- Ryouta’s muscles burned with exertion. He smiled though- he was caught in the adrenaline rush of aggression. Finally though, he made a mistake, and with a backhand, the instructor laid him out on the ground with his head ringing.
“Good. But don’t lose your head. 5 minutes.”
Ryouta groaned.

Approved, again a 1.5. It was better just lacking in length this time.

Ryouta was panting a little as his instructor raised his katana for the third time. This is making me better at it, but I hate fighting anyway. It’s so…exhausting.
“Now…you’re going to fight a pupil of mine.” The instructor snapped his fingers and called out, “Nagato!”
A thin looking guy looking around Ryouta’s age walked into the room. He had black hair that hung over his eyes. “Right. So I’m fighting him. Fine with me.” Nagato drew his katana.
Ryouta raised both his ninjato. “Prepare yourself.”
Ryouta attacked Nagato with intense concentration. He was a mix of coldly analytical technique and furious strength-enhancing rage. His movements were like water, like falling autumn leaves; Ryouta moved with grace, his blades seemed to be but extensions of his arms. Each blade seemed to act of its own accord, flowing flawlessly from attack to defense. As one comes in for a potentially devastating slash, the other is moving to defend. Ryouta let himself find a rhythm, find a beat in his fighting. Never before had he experienced such an extreme feeling.
It was strange. Usually, Ryouta felt himself getting more and more tired as he fought. That familiar ache was still there; but now, it fed his desire to continue. He was tapping into his base human desire for aggression.
It was all a blur. Even in Ryouta’s brilliant mind, all that registered was the types of moves he was making. Slash at the right shoulder. Deflecting blow at the left side. Cut at the left wrist, parry a thrust at the stomach. Riposte with a stab of his own, then another cut at the neck.
The fight became something of a random routine, if that makes sense. Both Nagato and Ryouta were being forced to their limits. Both were equally matched it seemed, and tired at the same rate. In fact, it was becoming easier and easier to act on instinct. Ryouta found he could withdraw, and think about different things; for a brief couple of moments, he reviewed his knowledge on Garganta. Quickly, he brought his mind back to the matter at hand. Nagato’s weakness was in his having only one sword and having limited reach and speed if Ryouta kept close. So…Ryouta visualized what he would have to do. It was a basic sequence that he had read about in a book about kendo; it would only have to be modified slightly to accommodate his twin blades.
Ryouta brought himself even closer to Nagato, now using his left blade just to block, his right blade just to attack. He thrust at Nagato, then made a side cut, which, when dodged, led to a backhand side. Spinning, he switched his blades’ roles, his left blade now coming down in an overhand strike, and then another switch! His right came in an overhead backhand. Here came the crucial moment; Nagato raised his katana in a standard parry to block the overhead cut. Ryouta launched a devastating backhand side cut at his ribs, though with his blade turned so he only hit with the flat. It struck with considerable force against Nagato’s ribs- he couldn’t bring his katana down fast enough to counter the side cut. Nagato stepped back.
“You’re a good fighter, even if you don’t like it. Keep at it. You would’ve killed me just now, if we were real enemies.”
“Hehe, thanks, but I don’t really like fighting. Maybe we’ll spar again some other time.” Ryouta sat down as Nagato left.
The instructor had watched the entire time. Now he was nodding his head in approval. This new student was good. He was very good.

OOC: i'd just like to point out the very detailed last fighting paragraph. i spent a lot of thought on that one

Lol, Approved + 2 to Fighting Skill.

Ryouta turned to the muscle-bound instructor. “Happy now?”
The man shook his head. “Not yet. You’re very good for a student, but I think you still need some work.”
“Fine.” Ryouta hefted both his ninjato and assumed a fighting pose. “…Here I come.”
He ran at the instructor, his left ninjato held across his face as a guard, his right held out in an offensive position. As he neared, the instructor stabbed outward with his katana. Ryouta jumped, landed on the top of the katana; so immersed in the fury of battle, his muscles coordinated excellently so he remained balanced for that precious instant. He pushed off, driving the katana down, and driving his knee into the instructor’s face.
“Aargh!” the instructor fell to the ground, taking Ryouta with him. As the instructor stood, Ryouta was on him again, this time aiming a slash at his stomach. The instructor managed to deflect it with an overhead cut, but was instantly forced to deflect and overhead cut from Ryouta’s other blade.
“Good, you’re learning!” The instructor began his own attack sequence, made up of a cadence of heavy chops and slashes. Instead of trying to deflect them, Ryouta used footwork to his advantage. He dodged each and every one of the heavy slices, and got in a couple of quick stabs with his own weapons. With an annoyed grunt, he doubled his effort in trying to get the instructor off his guard. Try as he might though, no matter how fast he moved his blades, he couldn’t break through the instructor’s defenses.
His defense is flawless enough for me to be unable to break it- but I wonder if his offense has any mistakes?
Ryouta began to retreat, allowing the instructor to pound away at him with his heavy strokes. Steel rang time and again against itself, sparks flew from their respective blades as they clashed together multiple times in the short period of a couple of seconds.
Grunting with effort, the instructor’s arms were covered in sweat, and his veins were standing out. By contrast, Ryouta looked bored. In truth, he was analyzing the way the instructor moved for every attack. He was beginning to see a pattern…
“More focus, don’t lose your concentration!” the instructor yelled at Ryouta as he came in with what he thought would be a painful side cut. Ryouta ducked and drove the hilt of his right ninjato into the man’s groin. It bounced off.
“Always wear a cup boy; it’ll save your life.” The instructor laughed as he kicked out, catching Ryouta in the chin and flipping him back. Ryouta glared up at him. All of a sudden, he was feeling murderous, full of semi-righteous rage. He threw himself at the instructor, letting his rage and instinct dictate his attack. More so then ever did their blades clash together. Ryouta’s style became more and more aggressive; he dispensed with the footwork and jumping and ducking from before and just continued to press the attack. The look of concentration on the instructor’s face was beginning to show clear signs of exhaustion. But wait, the instructor lashed out with his fist! Ryouta chopped with his arm, knocking down the fist with the hilt of his left ninjato as he blocked the incoming thrust with his right. And here was his chance. He reversed his grip on his left as he chopped down with it, and drove the hilt of the blade into the instructor’s solar plexus, which caused him to double over. Ryouta whirled around him, and then placed both ninjato in an ‘X’ under his throat.
“I win. Sensei.” He smiled to himself. A good strategy wins over brute strength any day.

+2... and thread locked. Well written and thought out. You're going to be a joy to RP with.