It’s still a little surreal, but with Tifa’s answer Tidus does as he’s told, if not sure what will happen once the table is set back. Talking--does he even want to do that? What was there for him to say that he already hadn’t? He knows what to do more with the invitation to fight, and even that has him feeling clumsy.

It doesn’t stop him from moving away from the table afterwards however, if with slow steps. If she says she’s trained, that’s better than him, a fact he should probably share, but the thought leaves him. He wants to swing his arms at someone, something. Does it matter how well he does it? It hasn't so far.

So he stands with a stance more suited for someone used to wield a blade, yet with his feet not locked to the ground. Hands clenched, brow furrowed in a hesitance that persists into the swing that he eventually takes--speed lacking for it, aiming for somewhere around her shoulder on the farthest side of his fist.