The Silent Path [Training][Open]

[0/30]

The young boy Zetsumei stood up again, his legs were already wobbling, his arms felt like lead weights, and he thought he felt the master's glares pushing him towards the ground... or was that just gravity? Regardless, he was exhausted, and his master showed no signs of letting up, not yet.

"Very Good boy, but you have a long way to go yet. I already see improvement in your motions. You look more fluid, but I bet you feel horrible. How much you hurt is completely up to you now. The faster you learn, the better you do, the sooner you are done and the less pain you'll deal with. Alright students, begin. All three in now."

They all swung at once, Zetsumei evaded with skill, turning on the heel of his left foot, which was bare. The next blow was swift and strong, forcing Zetsumei to use his own weapon to block it clumsily. Shot number three was weak, but it struck him in the center of his back. He let out a groan of pain as the assault continued. Dodge, evasion, block, glancing strike to forehead. Again, evade, hit to the knee, block two shots, dodge another, hit to the wrist.

Zetsumei worked as hard as he could, but as exhaustion set in, he felt his skill slowly sapping from his body. His wounds, which were minor still, were becoming more common. His arms moved with more difficulty, and lowered results. Blocking attacks still meant taking a minor beating, and skillful dodging leaned towards stumbling and taking a full on hit.

Zetsumei, however, did not stop. His father expected this of him, and back in those days, he would do anything for that man. He struggled on, blocking, lousy evading, strike to the chest, blow to the shoulder, block the next, block the following, another shoulder shot, evade, a painful hit to the throat, suffocating the boy for a moment. And then he was hit, hard. A vicious blow to the top of his head, and by the boy with the strongest striking too.

Zetsumei hit the ground, blood began dripping from his nose, and even their master had the decency to step in, call the exercise, and pick the boy up. He had fallen unconscious.

Zetsumei lifted his head slowly, as if remembering little more than the pain that training inflicted on his childish body, yet he was satisfied at just what the boyish form of him did in fact accomplish, and even if he wasn't finished, he had made progress.

[??/30]

"Stop!"

The master shouted, and instantly the three boys backed off of the blind Zetsumei, who held his guard, just in case his master planned to strike at him. The old man grinned, which was unseen by Zetsumei of course, but he smelt it on his breath.

"Zetsumei, you may not strike back at the boys, but I warn you, if you make a grave mistake, such as acknowledging these blades as wood instead of steel, I will punish you again." Zetsumei nodded, glad he finally had a chance to defeat his opponents, however, his master wasn't finished. "Souhei will not be using the wooden sword anymore, he's going to use the bo staff. His blade will be passed on over to Souta, giving him a dual sword advantage. The third will stay the same, single katana."

Zetsumei sighed heavily, he knew now that the attacks would be completely alternated, but he'd have to manage. Once the attacks began, he instantly pushed for the boy with the staff, who revealed a decent proficiency with the long wooden weapon. He turned out to be more difficult to overcome than he expected, and various times he had to move away to defend himself from the other two boys' assault. He tried alternating targets, and eventually found the boy with a single sword to be the easiest.

They exchanged a few attacks, neither taking a direct shot, and then the two swords came in fast. Zetsumei saw this (via his advanced hearing) and spun around, sidestepping the first blade, ducking the second, and bringing his own weapon to crash against the kid's nose and brow, a killing stroke (if the weapon was in fact steel and not a training weapon). He spun around again and skillfully deflected the weak thrust by the other sword handling boy.

Another five minutes of struggling before Zetsumei's next victim was "killed". The Bo Staff boy would make a thrust at the Shitakuma's leg, who responded by swiping at the staff with his sword, and in the same fluid motion, lifted the sword to stab into the boy's armpit, and if it were a real blade (again) it would have pierced easily into his ribs and possibly through to the neck. Another killing blow.

With a one on one, the third boy turned out to be quite easy, a few exchanges and Zetsumei was actually able to strike the boy's hand, which forced a reaction of dropping the weapon. However amazing he might have done, Zetsumei still held a grudge at the boys, and without stopping his charge on the now-unarmed opponent, he swatted him across the cheek, sending him to the ground.

"Zetsumei!" His master roared. Zetsumei knew he shouldn't have stricken the boy, he was disarmed and defeated, but it just happened. The master lunged with lightning speed and brought down a wooden sword hard on Zetsumei's head, who actually deflected and evaded skillfully.

Zetsumei panicked that the master would destroy him for this defiance, but the air around him changed, he was actually pleased at his progress. "Boy! You are improving. Not as good as myself yet, but for a single day passing, you have done extremely well. Go home and rest. Tomorrow we finish this lesson completely."

[0/80]

It was the next day, bright and early, and Zetsumei's body was plagued with deep, dark, and large bruises all around his body from the day before, and his training still wasn't complete. Zetsumei was to meet his master in the dojo again, yet this time, the other boys were not there. Just his master, and he was armed with a katana, not just the wooden sword anymore. It wasn't pretend sword fighting anymore, Zetsumei had to perfect this skill, and []now[/u].

"Good morning student."

"Master..."

"I hope you didn't lose all you learned in your sleep, we've got a lot to cover today, and hopefully you won't die from it." His master smirked, and at the moment two people walked in, a man and a woman of nearly the same height. They took seats against the far wall without speaking a word. "Oh, those are your emergency medics Zetsumei." The young Shitakuma stopped breathing for a moment, as if waiting for his master to yell 'Joking!' His master was always serious though.

"It will be the same lesson as before, except it's with me, and real weapons. These will kill, so it is in your best interest to do a damn good job."

Zetsumei nodded as his master handed him the unsheathed blade, and then promptly arming himself with his own. Within seconds, the older man was swinging wildly at the boy, his motions were intentionally wide, slow, and weak, yet they were still difficult and dangerous. Each time blade hit blade, a sharp stinging sound wracked his head, causing his unique vision to shudder. He was being held completely on defense, and even though he was given permission to strike back, he had no chances to do so.

"You need to recover quickly!" The man growled as he pointed out the student's flaw. Zetsumei felt a powerful thumping against his skull, his master turned the blade so that the unbladed back side of teh sword struck him, rather than the blade, but the feeling of vibrating steel still sent him to the ground for a moment. Zetsumei made himself spring right back up though, and as if it never happened, Zetsumei and his Master continued their lesson.
Zetsumei was doing well, but his master's level of difficulty was still pretty low, he knew that he could kill Zetsumei in a moment's notice if he wanted, but that would have no benefit.

At one moment, Zetsumei felt he had an opening for an attack, which he attempted and regretted only moments later. His opponents blade easily sunk into his stomach, it was at the right side, thus avoiding all organs entirely, but the pain was awful. The boy instantly fell backwards, dropping his sword, and grabbing at the gash, and screamed in pain.

The medical ninjas instantly came over, and with surprisingly easy amount of effort, patched him up in seconds, then they returned to their seat, talking about something that wasn't even remotely related to Zetsumei, his wound, or his master.

"Stand up! We don't have time for you to slack like this."

Zetsumei did as he was told, grabbing his sword and standing tall, and instantly went to work. Blocking one, feeling his own blade pushed back almost completely to his own skull, then dodging another, only to have the sword fly back towards him and barely slip past his cheek. The man was moving faster now, less careless, though still not nearly as hard as he could be.[/i][/size]

[??/80]

Child Zetsumei stood up slowly, the sword tightly locked in his small hands. If he had eyes to see with, he'd be burning a hole right through his master's head. This boy wasn't exactly known to have anger problems, but anybody would feel hatred when they were neglected like this. It was, of course, just training and all, but it still seemed unnecessary to use actual swords and really stab him, cut him, and hurt him.

Without a work, Zetsumei approached the instructor and attacked. It was deflected easily and a counterattack followed instantly. Zetsumei deflected it, and nearly delivered his own strike once again, when another fast blow required his attention. The tide slowly became one sided, and Zetsumei was once again doing all the defending, evading, blocking, etc. However, and without even being aware of it, he was already getting better, highly skilled.

It shocked Zetsumei (as well as the medics) whenever his master took a swing at his neck. There was no mercy anymore, no slacking off. The child student deflected the blow, but barely. Should he have failed to get that, not even the medics would have been able to save him. His instructor was stepping it up another notch, lethal blows.

Zetsumei found it severely more difficult to dodge and block all attacks when they were aimed everywhere. Major arteries in his thigh, the check, everything was a target now, as well, of course, his head. Zetsumei, however, kept up his pace and defended himself well. His reflexes were sharpening, his skills advancing, and his life severely in danger.

Zetsumei just started feeling good about himself when the blade sunk deep into his chest, just to the right of his diaphragm. Did it his his heart? No, it was the wrong side, maybe a lung. Possibly, he wasn't sure, the blade was pulled from his body instantly and he heard his master shout something to the medics, but the pain he felt already began to cloud his thought. He felt the warm sensation of the medic jutsu at his body, but it wasn't enough to keep him conscious.

[??/80]

Zetsumei woke up three minutes later, and found not a master ready to kill him, but a small simple meal waiting for him. It was little more than assorted fruits, but he needed to eat, and this would serve that need perfectly. He smiled lightly, knowing it was his master that provided this, as well as that he realized his master purposely did not kill him, even though he easily could have. The Old Man did care about him after all. Still, the training was rigorous and unfinished.

Zetsumei spoke with a mouthful of apple crammed in his cheeks. "Master? Why didn't you kill me? I made a mistake." The old sensei looked over at Zetsumei and grinned.

"Son, you are my student, and my favorite at that. I have no children of my own, so I admit that I am jealous of your father, especially because I am the one training you with all that I know." The man walked over to Zetsumei and took his hand, pulling him up to a stand. "If I had killed you without even teaching you hardly anything that I know, I wouldn't be able to bear living with myself. I need you to surpass me so that you can do good in this world, in my place, once I am gone."

Zetsumei grinned happily, and even had to struggle to fight the tears that tried to pour from his blind eyes. He never knew his master felt like that, even his father never admitting something so amazing.

"However, that is why I need to push you, to pressure you hard in your training. Dark days are coming, and you are still too young to stand against the storm. Come, we haven't finished yet, but we are close."

- - - -

The two of them picked up their weapons, whatever emotions they shared only moments ago, were swiftly buried beneath Zetsumei's bruises and his Master's sharp skills. The clashed once again, through painful sounds of metal on metal flying through the air, a whiz where a blade missed its target entirely, and the screeching when the blades grinded against and pushed each other away from their users' bodies.

Zetsumei, only twelve years old, was contending with his master, step by step, each attack deflected, each strike evaded, and blow was blocked, and his recovery was even stronger now. It went on for several minutes before they backed away from each other. They needed a breather for one thing, but the battle was not finished, not yet.

The old master lunged forward, throwing a strong thrust towards Zetsumei's chest once again, who surprised everyone by switching the blade to his left hand (holding the sword backwards to that the blade extended from his pinky's side rather than the index finger), and wedged his own blade between his body and his master's stroke. His instructor pushed forward, throwing a strong knee to Zetsumei's ribs, but this too was blocked as the boy spun and threw an elbow downwards, colliding with the knee and stopping its progress and keeping the ribs from being possibly cracked. This forced them to separate once again.

The third portion of the fight was by far the shortest, yet so much happened. Zetsumei blocked the initial attack and stepped inwards, throwing a horizontal slash across his master's shoulder area, who even in his graying-haired age, was able to duck and bring the hilt of his sword up, crashing against Zetsumei's chin and causing him to stumble backwards. He then stepped in again, through a thrust for Zetsumei's right shoulder, but the student turned his body clockwise, only barely missing the blade, and there it was.

Zetsumei brought his blade up quickly, from the pointing towards the ground to hitting under the Master's arm, but like his master had many times, with the dull edge. In a battle, that would have severed the arm completely, but in training, it was a sign that he won. He was finished.

[50/80]

Zetsumei stood up slowly. Those were the days that he had learned and trained his reflexes to their limit, but he knew there was so much more than just simple training. There was nothing like true combat to teach somebody how to really learn what must be learned. In fact, the day he had killed that man, his father's adversary, and what ultimately destroyed Zetsumei himself.

"Zetsumei! What are you doing here? It's been so long! How old are you now? eighteen? Nineteen?"

"Nineteen. One year after you. Don't you remember? Say, is your father here?"

"Father?" Zetsumei's 'friend' looked at him nervously, he could feel the boy's pulse quicken lightly. "Well, he's not Here, but he's around. He came back from the Fire Country just yesterday. He says that he doesn't wish to see anybody though, he's made that very clear. What do you want with him?" Zetsumei and this boy had grown up together, learned the sword together, taught each other so many things.

"I have a message from my father to give him. He says it's of the most importance." Zetsumei's voice was cold, unusually so. His life long friend moved in front of him.

"Here, give me the letter and I'll take it in to him." The boy nodded, hoping Zetsumei would agree, but he knew better, they both knew what the other knew.

Zetsumei's message was one of death for the man, and his friend knew this. Zetsumei also knew that it was no secret that their father's detested each other for years, and it was over a woman of all things, Zetsumei's mother, and Takumi's mother. Yes, they were half brothers, different fathers, same mother (who had been raped, kidnapped, and forced to marry Zetsumi's father).

"Zetsumei, I can't let you do this. He's my father! Yours is the one that committed the crimes here!" Zetsumei drew his blade, and Ironically enough, Takumi also pulled his katana.

- - - - -

Although Takumi was a coward, he was damn good with the sword. He was one of the few students that could compete with Zetsumei. He was careless when he got scared though, and Zetsumei could smell his fear now. This wasn't a spar, this wasn't practice, this was real, what they had both been training for years for.

Takumi jumped in and began swinging his sword madly, but Zetsumei blocked and dodged each attack with ease, they were sloppy, the boy didn't want to kill Zetsumei, they were brothers, but it had to be one of them. Takumi pulled a second sword, it was considerably shorter, but was easily controlled for incredibly short distance. This is where Takumi was most skilled and the biggest threat. "Zetsumei, don't make me do this."

Zetsumei did not speak, he couldn't back down, neither could. He stepped forward, throwing a swift strike at Takumi's head, but was blocked and countered. A jab with the elongated knife, a swipe with the sword, another thrust. Takumi was keeping Zetsumei on his toes, a barrage of attacks, just like when he first learned to rely on his reflexes to pull him through, except he was skilled now, both of them were.

Takumi continued the assault and leaving little to no room to retaliate. Zetsumei would have to defend himself until Takumi made a mistake. And it came before too long.

Takumi made a wide strike with the katana, which Zetsumei caught him off guard with a strong block/strike with his own, forcing him to drop the weapon. It was not a sudden victory for Zetsumei though, the long knife managed to bury itself in Zetsumei's left thigh. He screamed in pain, and THAT is what, more or less, won the fight.

Takumi left the blade in his leg as he back up, now disarmed, his face frozen with fear. He had actually hurt his brother and friend, but it didn't register that Zetsumei had severed that tie minutes ago, before they fought. He thrusts the katana forward and pierced the poor Takumi right through the chest. A lethal blow, he would not recover.

Zetsumei knelt down and pulled the knife from his leg and knelt over his brother. "Zetsumei? I'm-I'm sorry for everything. You-you-you were my idol... Everything... did... did..." The boy tried to talk, but he had fallen before he managed to finish. He was only unconscious, but Zetsumei could stand the though of him suffering, so he buried the knife in his chest, killing the heart, killing the man.

Zetsumei, however, wasn't finished yet. He had to kill Takumi's father, that's all that was left.

[70/80]

[[OOC: I received an addition +10 while doing a mission, just to let everyone know. Mission]]

Zetsumei stood up. Leaving behind his brother was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but he had to press on. His father expected it. The young Shitakuma man stormed onto the family's ground and plowed through the doors, and coincidentally, found the man he had been sent to kill. Takumi's father was kneeling before him, in his hands, however, was a katana. He wasn't going to die without a fight.

"So the Old Shit send the young blood to do his dirty work. Figures, he always was a coward. I suppose being blind does have its flaws, doesn't it." The man stood up and began examining Zetsumei, and instantly he noticed the boy's wound in his leg, though minor, told him about his own son's fate. "Takumi? You wouldn't-!" The man choked on his tears for a moment, but would not fall to full blown crying. The time to mourn was later, but now was time for vengeance.

The old man charged at Zetsumei, swinging the blade across Zetsumei's face, but was avoided by mere centimeters. The man was strong and fast, and by the time Zetsumei placed his hand on his sword, he had already thrown another strike, which was barely blocked by Zetsumei's half-sheathed blade, and although the sword was blocked, the spinning kick that followed made a direct hit on the Shitakuma's ribcage, sending him stumbling backwards in pain, but far from defeated. He took his brief moment of distance to draw his weapon completely. Finally, it was time to strike.

The two men would dance for a while, exchanging minor wounds, deflections, evasions, and so on. It lasted five whole minutes, and by that time, both were bleeding from small cuts and wounds all about their body. The game of skill became one of endurance before long. Takumi's father stepped forward again, faking one strike and following through with a different angle, but Zetsumei was still faster, thankfully for his youthfulness and less severe wounds. Zetsumei then realized that the old man was dying, right there, exhausting himself and bleeding to death, where Zetsumei could last hours still, Takumi's father wouldn't go another ten minutes of this, it was over.

"You pig, how could you kill your own brother?" The question was a good one. It could simply be answered with 'I stuck his own knife in his chest' but it was not a question of method used, so much as it was the moral justification that allowed Zetsumei to slay Takumi. He pondered on it a moment, as the old man allowed him, since his energy was nearly spent anyhow.

"I am my father's son." It was all Zetsumei could say. He could not justify what he had done, but he couldn't contemplate why he would do this for a man he detested, his own father, except that he was following his footsteps and becoming a backstabbing bastard. It may not have made sense to the Shitakuma, but Takumi's father understood it completely.

"Then I pray you both suffer for eternity." The old man, as if imbued by some diving power, charged one last time, slashing and hacking wildly, but with so much vigor that Zetsumei could do nothing but keep moving backwards and protecting himself, he just had to wait until the man died.

And it happened soon enough. The feeling that Zetsumei was left with was not one of joy or peace or victory, but just a cold hollowness. He fell to his knees, and Zetsumei cried right there. For the man, for Takumi, and for his own corrupt soul, he cried.

[0/30]

Zetsumei had been 'watching', in a sensing with the Hells ears sort of way, this man for days now. He was known to be homeless, and was more than proud of it. The Shitakuma man had no desire to talk with the homeless man, but there was one thing that was interesting to him. The man, though smelled quite horribly, had roaches crawling all over him, much like one would see insects occupying the body of an Aburame. Zetsumei was not disgusted. Being blind may have had its advantages, such as not being able to see or be frightened of cockroaches. After much hesitation, Zetsumei approached the man.

"Sir, I have been examining you for some time, and I noticed that your insect friends listen to your voice and act upon your commands." The homeless man snarled behind a mouth of missing teeth and horrible breath.

"So? Wha' it to yah?" The old man stood slowly, knocking over a steel trashcan as he did, which poured out some hundreds more roaches.

"Please, calm down. I don't come to fight. I want to learn actually. These roaches, they could be used for so many things. You don't even have to teach me, just, let me have one and I will teach myself anything and everything I can." The homeless man grunted and shrugged his shoulders. He was fond of his roaches, but he could part with one, besides, the ninja was a bother. It was fairly obvious that he didn't enjoy Zetsumei's company much.

Zetsumei felt a small tingling on his hand as a roach had started to climb his skin, and up into his jacket sleeve.

- - - - -

Zetsumei took his new friend back to his normal training area, which was really just a small patch of grass next to the Takikage's building. He felt the crawling sensation on his hand once again. It was obvious that he first needed to learn the communication between user and roach. Too be quite honest though, he hadn't the slightest clue on how to go about doing that? He had the strangest feeling that the cockroach had already taken a liking to his scent, but still, talking to it and it like how you smell were two significantly different things.

Zetsumei pulled the hand with the small creature close to his ear, and listened. He heard, very faintly, the little feet tapping against his skin, the slight grinding of some sort of insect appendage, but did not hear it talking to him, nor him randomly understanding its language. He lowered his hand again, and decided that maybe just talking to it would have some sort of effect. Maybe it just needed to learn his vocal range and could then match to what his ears could hear, or brain understand.

This went on for hours, trying to learn the roach's language, and with what seemed to be very little success. However, Zetsumei knew it was possible, the homeless man had hundreds, if not thousands listening to his toothless voice. Zetsumei just needed to figure it out, it would take time, but he could do it.

[10/30]

Even though little progress appeared to have been made, Zetsumei felt that he had established some sort of connection with the small creature. He wasn't exactly reading its mind or sharing jokes with it, but he felt that it already began to take a liking to him. Most insects were skittish, fearful, quick to flee, and cockroaches were the worst in that aspect, but this one was unique, that or it was Zetsumei himself that had become unique. If that was the case, then it was probably right to assume he had made a connection, which was the beginning of communication.

Zetsumei would take a considerable amount of time and effort to just sit there, listening to the cockroach as it explored the outer layer of his clothing. Call him crazy, but he could almost feel the fascination that the cockroach must have been experiencing. A new person, fresh scents, new fabric of clothing. It must have been similar to moving countries and learning about the land first hand.

The cockroach crawled onto his finger and stopped, and impulsively, Zetsumei lifted the finger near his face, which put the small bug facing him. Looking into each other, eye-to-eye. "You want to tell me something, don't you. I just can't quite understand you. Like listening to a foreign language." Zetsumei tilted his head to the left, silence. If he was supposed to communicate with the creature, it surely wouldn't be through sound, maybe a connection of chakra? Maybe... What did creatures use to communicate? Pheromones?

That was it! Zetsumei had to develop his already significantly powerful nose to read the pheromones the cockroach was giving off. He was certain, by use of his chakra and the body's natural reaction to situations, that he would easily transfer his own message to the creature, but he had to develop himself to read, or smell, the cockroach!

Zetsumei pulled the cockroach closer and sniffed it lightly, making sure to pull it away before it decided to jump up his nose and make a nest in his brain. What Zetsumei smelled was... nothing. It had already crawled around him so much that it smelled like he did, which was definitely an improvement over the homeless man he bummed (no pun intended) the bug off of. However, just because he didn't notice a smell, didn't mean he didn't get a whiff of the pheromones. It probably registered, he wasn't able to interpret it yet.