When it comes down to it, Bunny's kinda awe-inspiring to watch.
Kotetsu wonders if anyone ever thinks that of him – except he knows they don't. He's all legs, been told that before, and not in the good way, not like Bunny who has legs for miles, perfectly shaped and leanly, elegantly muscled. Kotetsu's never doubted his own prowess in a fight, but man, watching Barnaby like this? It's enough to make him wonder.
Now, when he's on the sidelines, Keith to one side of him, Antonio to the other, all making some kind of commentary that he's not really focusing on – well, damn, he's pretty proud of Pao Lin for holding her own against Bunny when he'sfast, definitely stronger than her in many ways but fuck that kid's good, too.
He'd probably be a little more startled about that if he hadn't seen her in action so many times before. Bunny, on the other hand – he's still feeling the kid out, still amazed that fuck he's this young and this good? Scary. He's fast, he's strong, every movement fluid grace and precision and Kotetsu chokes a little on his drink when he's watching those muscles ripple and twist and fuck, again, he's reminded of how fast Barnaby is.
Afterwards, Barnaby comes away soaked in sweat, hair thoroughly ruffled and huffily peeling contacts out of his eyes in favor of glasses because like hell he wears them during spars for fear of them flying off or getting kicked in the face. Kotetsu tries to calm the thrumming of his own pulse, tries to soothe the dryness of his own mouth with another hard, gulp of water as Barnaby passes, but like hell if that helps.
Intimidation? Or something else? Kotetsu shudders a bit and downs the rest of his bottle of water and gets up, catches a view of Barnaby from behind and good grief, those legs - guys shouldn't have legs like that.
Fuck, he's not looking forward to working with this guy.