Ninpocho Chronicles

Ninpocho Chronicles is a fantasy-ish setting storyline, set in an alternate universe World of Ninjas, where the Naruto and Boruto series take place. This means that none of the canon characters exists, or existed here.

Each ninja starts from the bottom and start their training as an Academy Student. From there they develop abilities akin to that of demigods as they grow in age and experience.

Along the way they gain new friends (or enemies), take on jobs and complete contracts and missions for their respective villages where their training and skill will be tested to their limits.

The sky is the limit as the blank page you see before you can be filled with countless of adventures with your character in the game.

This is Ninpocho Chronicles.

Current Ninpocho Chronicles Time:

Private A Test of Stamina and Wit [Genin Exam] [Request Shinjo]

Kagami Miro

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Observant eyes have watched their pupils progression from the shadows of Kumogakure. From collapsing at the foot of the medical sennin in a fight for oxygen to the slaughter of their guardians who were spies for an infiltrating republic of crazy church cultists. The young man has made vast strides in hardening his mental stability and deadliness within the shinobi community. A finely tuned weapon for the upcoming travesty that was about to unfold. With these achievements could he best what the future had in store for him. That was for Sennin to find out with her duo trials.

Heavy rain coated the outskirts of Kumo’s villages for the past several days. Ravines began to flood and the mud from the mountain sides made climbing them dangerous for even the most skilled shinobi. Nature always seemed to best them, unless they were attuned to the Mother’s whim as an archsage. From mudslides to flash floods the journey to my pupils exam seemed impossible, but if he truly wanted to live up and break the limit of his clans dreaded history, perseverance needed to mold his mind.

Atop the vast mountain range sat an isolated temple. Legend has that the worshipers of the temple praised Raiden in all his glory and one day mysteriously vanished, leaving the building to slowly decay over the decades. Weatherization chipped and molded away at the temples outer markings yet the insides remained persevered and spectacular. There I sat in the center of a wide seal, chalk painted my calloused hands, running through the complex hand seals to summon the first trial for my dear pupil. Lightning surged and coursed around me as a stone golem emerged from in front of me. Without hesitation it cocked back its massive stone arm and lurched forward. You know how the game goes, paper split from my face and halted the giants movement right before impact. The paper seal slapped right onto it’s fist, expanding by the second the encase its hands in paper. More sheets peeled off my body, adhering to hard to reach spots behind the stone golems neck.

Once the golem was obedient all it took was a confident gesture out the door way and down the mountain to the bridge that led out from the mountain side to the mainland of Kumogakure. Miles long from the temple to the long bridge it would take some time for him to get there. Just enough so that I could craft minute paper butterflies sealed tightly with blood. A message had been encrypted into the butterfly.


'The bridge to the monastery is your first trial. Best it then move on to the next. Don’t keep me waiting.’

The paper butterfly sat gracefully on the backside of my hand. I rose it up into the air, letting the cold breeze of the mountain winds take ahold of the little butterfly and out a small window from the temple. The breeze traveled down the miles of steps down towards the basin of the mountain. It danced around the golem as it finally stepped off the stairwell and began its journey to the center of the bridge. The bridge was strong enough to hold the 3 ton stone golem but only wide enough for the golem to sit on. All traffic would be stopped and jumping off the sides meant certain death as the bottom of the ravine couldn’t even be seen from the immense fog. As the golem sat, blocking the only way to the stairwell the butterfly continued its journey to seek out a familiar chakra. One of malice and pride, living somewhere in Kumo city.


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Ryuu Tama

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A crack of thunder overhead made the teenager cringe a little as he sat on the back porch of what used to be his godparent’s home. A long metal roof kept the rain off of Shinjo as he sat with his feet on the steps, inches away from the mud beneath his feet. He was wearing a loose kimono top with a pair of hakama that were tailored to be more pant-like than their original skirt-pant style; still baggy as all hell though. At his left side where two equally sized katana laying on the ground. One was stored away in a black saya with a silver tsuba shaped like a crescent moon and nothing else descriptive - not even a wrap. The other was the exact opposite; gaudy colored wrap on the handle in reds and oranges with golden filigree on the red lacquered saya. It’s tsuba was a golden disc with various winged dragons fighting each other. Another crack of lighting illuminated the darkened backyard for a moment followed by a roll of thunder. In the short image of light, the teenager’s face was revealed with a look of not regret, sadness or listless depression; but one of solemn patience.

Shinjo wasn’t sure what happened. Something inside of him must of broke when he drew his blade to kill his only two remaining family members after revealing their betrayal to Kumogkaure. He couldn’t feel guilt, at all. No matter how often he walked through the house, his old bedroom, or looked through the pictures of his parents or godparent. Not a single shred of remorse was left in the boy, and all he could see were the faces of traitors now. He had severed the link between himself and a ‘normal life’, and saw no reason to turn back now. His weapons, his strength, and even the very clothes on his back were all gifts from the Village that took him in. His family had only sought to use him for their own gains, while in comparison, Kumogakure gave him the choice to become something greater for the betterment of those around him. Shin didn’t have the choice in training, but he very well could just saddle up a low-rank position for the rest of his life. Earning enough money to have a ‘normal life’ while still serving the military that had granted him a mild freedom by forcing servitude. Then, in about ten years, he could retire. Settle down. Have his own children; things he could not see himself doing at all.
The teen’s train of thought was interrupted as his trained senses picked up on chakra entering his backyard. His ruby eyes lifted up from the dazed gaze and up into the air to witness a paper butterfly fluttering through the storm as if it was naturally water retardant. Recognizing the strange ninjutsu of his master, Shin held out an index finger and a bit of focused chakra to ‘call’ the butterfly to him. It landed on his hand and unfolded into a sheet of paper with instructions. Releasing the page into the wind it naturally drew chakra to itself to call a bolt of lightning to strike the message from the world. Shin grabbed both katana, stood, and gently tied them to his left hip before turning back towards the house to reach inside and retrieve a wide brimmed rice hat. Tying it to his chin he set out quietly towards the location he was instructed.

Shinjo climbed a great deal of the way without using his inhaler, and most of it had been sheer cliff face. Having finally figured out where the sudden disease had come from, which was poison, saw him under going some detoxifying to help clear an issue that would of made doing this impossible originally. Doing so loosened up some of the issue, but sadly the damage was done. Without major surgery the teen was forced into relying on the medication given to him by Midori…which so far, worked out fine. Even on a bad day, just a whiff of the inhaler usually carried him through training no problem. Of course, usually, he wasn’t hanging off the side of a cliff with chakra and a storm trying its hardest to blow him off. With a strong control of the chakra in the soles of his feet, Shin released the mountain side with his hands to reach back into his bag and slip the rebreather over his face before connecting the latches that created an air-tight seal around his mouth. He tapped a button near the side of the mask causing a cannister shoot a mix of air and medication into his breathing apparatus. Shin inhaled deeply, feeling the airways of his lungs suddenly expand and his vision becoming three times clearer. With the sudden burst of energy he shot it towards the chakra holding him up to leap from tiny crevice to crevice until he landed on the flat of small section of mountain. The teenager looked before him to see the old bridge, the large man-like rock formation sitting there, and the winding staircase beyond that lead further into the rolling black clouds of lightning.

Staring at the golem for a moment, he wondered how to get past. He could easily just walk under the bridge, but suspected that would of been too easy. Instead he placed his hands together to quick focus chakra before shooting the energy towards the golem. It wasn’t a particular Genjutsu, per say, but just a shock of chakra that would attempt to interrupt the chakra he assumed was controlling the pile of rocks. Of course, it could just be a random pile of rocks too.
 

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For the past few years the mastery of the advanced paper element strengthened how well I can perform my duties. To achieve this level of mastery one’s training drained the body of cells in order to separate an arm into thousands of sheets of paper infused with charka. However, due to this fusion and a strong will I have become efficient enough to have paper butterflies perform recon duties while I remain in safety. These paper butterflies were able to pick up vibrations and frequencies and relay them to other butterflies and eventually to myself. A game of whisper down the lane but with my own unique twist, these butterflies didn’t screw up.

In a broken window I sat pressed up against the pane. My pale hand held up into the air while droplets of rain left their mark. From the view I had I could just barely make out the shape of the golem that guarded the bridge, yet my eyes remained closed. Focused on balancing how much chakra was within each butterfly, even as one landed on my hand. With its message being relayed to me saying Shinjo had appeared before the golem I couldn’t help but smirk. Traversing the first part of the mountain would be easy even for your average hiker and even a breeze for a ninja, but one with breathing troubles on top of the thinning air… that was another story and a test to see just how far Shinjo would go and if he had the mettle to push past his disability and reach his goal.

Light gleamed into my eyes as I opened them up to the rainy world. The pitter patter of rain soothed my soul on some levels, but there was still the task at hand. My hands clapped together, running through a multitude of seals. At the foot of the window twenty feet down appeared two identical paper clones each looking back at myself for instruction. Carbon copies of myself with grins to match, “Set up the seals before the temple and at the door way. My pupil will need to be fully awake to deal with what you have to offer.” That twisted grin never washed off my lips as the two clones moved out to set paper seals sealed with potent genjutsu around the temple.

Meanwhile on the bridge....

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The aura of honed charka being emitted from Shinjo was enough to awaken the golem who sat with its legs tucked into its chest. Rubble and loose rock fell off its brow once it’s eyes opened up to reveal a gold hue. The little surge of chakra that Shinjo shot out at the golem bounced off and into the air. Without a word the golem began to rise up from its position and stand tall. It’s head nearly in the clouds as the height of the golem reached fifteen feet.

“Searching… for… Target.” The golems voice was slow and deep. Its stone head turned left and right to scan the area, locking onto Shinjo. Target found. Identity: Tsu.. Kinowa.. Shinjo.” The golem paused. “Trail commencing. Answer… Quickly… Or be terminated.” The golem shifted to move its arm covered in seals but fell short. “I join you in battle… fist clenched tight. We pound three times with all our might... If my rival decides he will sign for peace; I'll crush him... and the fight will cease. But if he lays his hand down flat; I'll suffer defeat… that is that. What am I?” His words were slow but the trail had been said. Without verbal warning of how many attempts Shinjo had, perhaps he fared better using as few as possible.
 

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The swordsman felt his chakra being bounced away, and quickly moved his hands to the blades waiting at his side when the golem began to move. How would he break past an actual stone opponent? Could he cut through it? Shin knew that certain swordsmen had the ability to cleave through entire boulders with the right strength and cut, but he highly doubted he could portray such a power. His technique was augmented by illusions. While he still had to be a good swordsman, enough to flow through the waves of combat, the illusions are what set up the boy’s killing blows; in theory anyways. Despite the number of heads he claimed, Shin had yet to see actual combat, and only had sparring vs theory to work off of; using Genjutsu during kenjutsu spars was frowned heavily upon. So when the rock started talking, placing before Shin the strange riddle, he actually breathed a small sigh of relief. He stepped up towards the edge of the bridge, hovering his foot just near the threshold of the first wooden plank as he stared at the golem’s golden eyes,

A rock,” he answered calmly. The riddle had been an odd one, and one that really should of taken him longer to figure out. Shinjo had no friends. His ability to just simply out do everyone academically and physically left him with no one his age he could actually trust and confide in. With his parents, they never played with him. He was forever their burden until they died. So Shin’s ability to come up with that answer had nothing to do with a children’s game since he had never had such luxuries. He analyzed the situation, the questions, and imagined something that was crushing over peace but safe when laying down. All he could think of was history lessons. Where boulders had been used to kill a peace talk by crushing both diplomatic parties, and how laying flat against an overhang could save one’s life from a falling rock in the mountains. Since his opponent was also a rock, asking rock questions, the boy just answered simply. His hand was still on his katana, waiting for the golem to tell him his over simplified answer was wrong so he could rush forward and cut the creature down. He hated the idea of using his dojutsu so soon, but he wondered if he also mused breaking the spell with an even more powerful spell; or even gain control of it for himself.

Boy wouldn’t his sensei get a kick out of that…
 
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Kagami Miro

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My red hues remained locked on Shinjo. Fixated on his lips as he mouthed his answer to the stone behemoth in front of him. I couldn’t help but let out a boisterous guffaw at his answer. A wide twisted grin painted my face, “You’re in for it now, little Shinjo! Gotta think harder than that!” Meanwhile the golem processed the information. Remaining silent for just a second before he stepped back one step from Shinjo. The paper that incarcerated his hands, the paper seals on his back, hell even his master… you think the answer would’ve been obvious, especially since the golem was only the first obstacle. It only got harder since his answer was wrong.

“Good luck Shinjo. You’ll need it....” My index and middle finger rose to my lips, “Release.” At that very moment the golems shoulders fell from their hunched state to a relaxed one. The paper seal that controlled his mind burned off from its back. Now Shinjo had to deal with a violently hostile golem without restraints. It’s once gold eyes turned into a threatening red hue as his massive stone arms rose up into the air. The paper seals on his hands prevented the golem from grabbing anything so instead it took a more destructive route. With arms of stone backed by chakra infused paper fists the destructive power of the golem was double that of a normal one. And now it has a mind of its own. The golem lurched forward with an overhead attack meant to clobber Shinjo upside the head. Voiding any dark or lewd puberty thoughts a young boy like him would have, but sending his skull and brain into his stomach at the same time. If he was quick enough he could avoid it, but the golems momentum would slam through the bridge they stood on. Quick and critical thinking were needed. Unfortunately for Shinjo, by how he answered the children's riddle this could be the end of his trail.

“Come on Shinjo! How far have you gotten? Any stronger at all or are you just another Cronopolis murderer!”
My words had no way of reaching him, especially in the heat of battle. Footsteps halted my train of thought when both my clones appeared next to me. ‘If he gets past the golem we’ll set everything else into motion. With the genjutsu sensory seals in place he’ll activate them as soon as he gets to the entrance.’ ‘Going to show him hell?’ ‘Just reliving it.’
 

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The golem screamed at his reply, eyes lighting up as it rose up in a threatening manor. Shinjo’s left foot started to scoot backwards naturally, but he willed himself to stand firm as his left hand simply gripped one of the two swords at his hip. He could feel the terror of facing down a creature clearly more structurally sound than he was, but the recent experiences of life kept the fear at bay. The person-shaped pile rocks, seemingly freed part way from its prison, raised their clenched fists and rushed at the Student; one who stubbornly refuse to give ground. The creature rushing his way was easily larger that he was, no doubt had more weight, and had a strong enough chakra focal that he couldn’t simply break it with his own energy. The boy didn’t fully want to commit to combat this early and instead tried to quickly analyzed the situation by taking in his platform, the speed of which the golem was attacking, and his odds of striking a vital point while dodging. The boy’s eyebrows furrowed as he noticed that the planks were just short enough to make a dodge riskier than taking the attack full on. With a defeated sigh, Shinjo briefly closed his eyes and breathed in before steeling his mind fully.

The Student began to step forward to meet the monster in a slow, almost cocky manner. The hand that wasn’t holding his weapon ready to draw twisted its fingers to form half of a seal and begin molding chakra rapidly that he quickly shot out to his core muscle groups, thighs, and forearms. Closing the half seal into a fist the chakra activated, strengthening the power of his muscles two-fold as the overhead slam of fists came hurtling towards his head. In a movement that could be comparable to a floating petal on the wind, Shinjo hopped forward into the golem’s guard and drew out his sword with such speed it looked like he was whipping a length of silver liquid at his opponent to strike at the golem’s own core once, then again, and finally a third time with his temporary superhuman strength. The goal wasn’t to destroy the rock with his blade, but to lift the creature enough to throw the weight of its attack down and to the side so that it would miss and simply cause the pile of rocks to swing its momentum towards the emptiness on one of the bridge sides and hopefully send it hurling itself to the jagged rocks below. While the golem was temporarily suspended into the air swinging fist, he would also duck down to dart beneath it and towards the other side.

[Jutsu used: Muscle Control and Flight Aerial Strike]
 

Kagami Miro

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The roar of the golem echoed throughout the vast valley of mountain ranges. The rain failed to dampen its war cry, “Music never sounded so good.” I had a free hand cup my right ear, facing my head out toward the bridge to have the sound waves bounce more accurately into my ears. A smile coiled on my soft lips, watching his performance sent a chill down my spine. So quickly my own student became a tool for the livelihood of Kumogakure. Don’t get it twisted. ANBU Ops were not some ruthless mercenary gang run by a corrupted leader. The way I would lead… ANBU operatives were just as human as the rest of the ninja in the other branches, but these folks were special.

They will never become simple cannon fodder. For one, each individual within the ANBU isn’t some main branch monkey with no brain. They’re fully capable of reading my intent. If aught were to be portrayed by the way I lead, they’d read me like an open book. Shinjo fit that category too. “Smart with a weapon, able to read and react to a given situation…” A small round of applause was given to him mentally, “But.. what kind of kid thinks rock beats paper?” Toying at this silly answer to the golem my hues glanced down back at the action. Shinjo manipulated the momentum of the golem?! Instead of attacking him head on, manipulating the movement of the golem was a surefire way to gain advantage. A calculated risk, but man is he bad at-- no wait! The Golem folded underneath the pressure of Shinjo’s weapon expertise. All momentum it carried was shifted off and away towards the railing of the bridge. The massive arm swung through the wooden railing, shattering it on impact and following through. Carrying itself off the edge of the bridge the stone giant began to plummet off the edge and into the dense fog. The valley swallowed him whole.

Without a word an arm extended out towards the doorway. The clones followed the unspoken rule and adjusted themselves into their proper positions. One leaned up against a stone pillar that supported the ceiling right at the door, the other lay across the throne in the back of the room with her legs kicked up and arms folded behind her head acting like she had no care in the world while the true vessel remained in the window sill high up in the room.

Right when Shinjo would set foot onto the basin of the temple the genjutsu sal traps would activate. The world around him would remain the same, but a surge of painful flashbacks will attempt to invade his mind. In an attempt to seek solace he would be able to call out to me, only from there will the final test commence.

[Entering the Temple activates genjutsu seals, placing you under a powerful visual and audible sensory genjutsu.]
[P.S Sweet golem toss.]
 

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Shin stopped just short of the stone staircase as he looked up at the ancient temple to Raiden. On either side of the open doorway that lead into an abyss of darkness were two statues depicting lion dogs in a primal state of electricity. The statues were worn, corroded, and chipped away by the elements of weather so high above the rest of the world, it was hard to tell what they originally were. Sharp pricks of cold struck his flesh as a snowstorm suddenly started up. It was a mountain weather event he was grateful didn’t occur while he was climbing; the wind had been plenty to fight through as it was. Then, as if on cue, a ball of air rolled across Shin, ripping his hat away and throwing it off the side of the cliff to fall hundreds of feet back down to the monster infested woods below. It was as if the world itself was egging him on to climb those stairs. The teenager reached up to his inhaler, tapped the button again, and inhaled the medicine that helped clear his airways once more as he ascended, once more, the mountain towards his final destination.

The boy took each step carefully. Chakra padded the soles of his sandals to leave no imprint on the gathering snow beneath, but also kept him just light of triggering any pressure traps. The subtle flow of energy would also do wonders in detecting wires but Shin found that not a single stone had been trapped; until the last one. It was a subtle feeling, a brush against the back of his neck, but the Genjutsu trap activated before he stepped a single movement inside. As he walked through the doorway between the two stone guardians, he stepped not onto the ancient cold stone of a forgotten god’s temple, but the solid yet supple wooden floor of his childhood home. Shin looked down and found himself no longer wearing his outfit, but the old ragged kimono that was once his only piece of clothing. His left side that was weighted down by weapons now felt light, and as he pat his hip the kid discovered nothing was there. His hands were small, his lungs clearer, and his vision was a little blurry. Before he could question why, a stream of tears fell down his cheeks as his head craned up to witness his mother once more selflessly sacrificing herself to the madness of his father’s pride. Warm blood splattered across the child’s face as the smell of death suddenly washed over him. He felt like he was supposed to be panicking. The entire scene had played out in his head many times in the years spent in Kumo, and rarely had he relived it without at least getting sick. Yet, today, after all Shinjo had survived through, he simply waited for his mother’s body to fall. This time, when the sword came driving at him, the scene didn’t go blank.

Shinjo sidestepped the diagonal cut that would of eviscerated the boy and knelt to scoop blood from his mother’s body to fling it at his father’s face. It connected with the man’s eyes and without even a moment of hesitation, the child leaped and wrapped his tiny fingers around his father’s trachea as his sudden weight through his father to the floor. In a absolute twist, Shinjo took over the Genjustu not with chakra but with absolute fury. Seeing the murder of his family playing over his mind for the first time since learning the truth triggered something deep inside of the boy. His rage was no longer fueled at the prideful father who abused him, or the absent mother who did nothing for a child she never wanted until the very end. It wasn’t burning for god-parents that had orchestrated his misery. His fury was invoked at Tenouza itself, and all the suffering they had placed on Lightning just to create the human weapon that he was; and like a good weapon, he destroyed. Shin’s tiny hands clenched harder and harder until he felt his struggling father’s trachea snap, and then with a sudden jerk, ripped out the man’s throat. It wasn’t how he had originally died, but the teenager’s fury from the wisdom learned in the last few weeks was palpable.

Shin sat there on his dad’s chest, waiting for the man to die from suffocation without a shred of emotion aside from anger on his face. Standing back up once the body had stopped jerking, Shinjo placed his hands into a seal to break the Genjutsu, while at the same time activating his new dojutsu. Double ruby colored rings exploded out wards from his iris, turning his sclera black as his vision became washed in a chakra enriched environment. His hand drew down to the blade at his side as he waited for the next attack, assuming it might be a Genjutsu once again as he kept an eye on his chakra as well; but not a word left his mouth. If Miro wanted him to say anything, she would be sorely disappointed until the exam was over, because Shinjo was not messing around. He was more than ready to graduate from the Academy and begin missions he hoped would lead him further and further into Tenouza’s territory…closer to vengeance.
 

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I continued to sit still and gaze out into the mountain ranges. The cold air and familiar scent of impending rain storm flowed through the old monastery as if it were a ballroom. Her ears perked up at the faint sound of footsteps at the stairwell to the monastery. Pearly white teeth glistened as my lips curled into a smile when the genjutsu trap went off. “It’s time.” These red hues never left the beautiful scenery of the mountain ranges as blood welled up at the corners of her eyes. Slowly they closed, and opened to reveal red sclera with a ring around her pupils and an upside down cross in the center of each eye. Awakening her EMS allowed her chakra vision to dive deep into the scenario that was laid out for Shinjo.

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My red eyes watched from a dark corner in the room where Shinjo encountered his parents. That particular stench of bloodlust filled the entire room. The trap had been laid out to observe just how mentally far Shinjo had gotten. Unblinking, I watched the traumatic events of Shinjo's past play out like a movie. Through the genjutsu, twisted giggles bounced against the walls of the murder room as Shinjo dug his nails into the flesh of his oppressive father’s neck. Perhaps he had some Uchiha blood in him. The pool of hatred that lingered in his shadow grew wider and wider until he was fully submerged into the power of embedded hatred. My soft pink lips curled inward to be chewed on at the irresistible pleasure of ecstasy that encased Shinjo. ‘Good… Good… Let the hate flow through you. There’s no love in this world. Everyone is only out for themselves. The only ones who could possibly understand you are those who trudged through the muddy depths of hell as you.’ An erotic moan escaped my chest, knowing full well Shinjo was capable of tearing through the kotoamatsukami purely based off our very first encounter. Resolute determination and will power radiated through Shinjo in order to burst free from the genjutsu. Past his chakra-covered vision my vessel would stand in front of him with her arms outstretched welcoming him to the doors of the monastery.

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A sharp whistle echoed out to Shinjo, hoping he’d take notice and acknowledge the identical clone at the top of the stairs. At that moment a stone was thrown from the Mirō that sat lazily at the throne at the brass door the other stood outside of. A loud bang sound that attempted to reverb into Shinjo’s ears to begin to play a series of deceptive sounds with an audible genjutsu. The Mirō that stood in front of the door played arrogance to it. “Ah Shinjo! You’ve finally made it!” My Mirō spoke aloud so he could hear her. “How was the journey up to here? Was it perilous? Nothing a student like yourself couldn’t handle.” With each word she stepped closer and closer to Shinjo. Her eyes locked intimately into his, the power of the Uchiha knew no boundaries. Without hand seals another terrifying ocular genjutsu dug into his vulnerable hues. Liable to see through the eyes of her clone she carefully watched his movements and crept closer.

At arms length of reaching Shinjo she had to play her innocence out carefully. “At the top of the temple is where the final exam is!” A hand slinked itself around his shoulder. I had never used my femininity to gain an advantage over anyone. A ball of self-hate formed in my gut. Any femininity I had had been stripped from me when I was a child... but this was a special case.

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Her unique feminine scent wafted around Shinjo as her free arm pointed up towards the monastery doorway. At the slightest touch another powerful genjutsu attempted to invade the well-being of the student. The air around him grew heavy around his shoulders. Mirō leaned more up against him while the sudden change of air pressure attacked the boy's lungs as the kinetic genjutsu began to weigh heavily on his chest. A history of asthma allowed her to imitate the symptoms with her genjutsu. With grace she slipped away from him and sauntered back up the stairs. “Hurry Shinjo-kun, let’s begin.”


[Cast Rank E Deception]
[Cast Rank C Ocular Trauma]
[Cast Rank B Crush Depth]
 

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As the teenager broke free of the Genjutsu at the last step of the stone staircase he witness something that immediately threw his perception a little. To see Miro welcoming him in any sort of friendly manner beyond, maybe, playful teasing that bordered on bullying, instantly put the kid on edge; but he made sure not to show it. His ocular powers remained active and keen to any shifts in his chakra to warn him of the danger the Sennin posed. He had no idea what the rest of this ‘test’ was going to be based on, but given the illusions just offered…Shin wasn’t keen on being tricked so easily again. The older teen’s honeyed words came with a subtle hint of chakra and he could feel it brush past his ears. There was no party here. His eyes narrowed a little as he also witnessed his master’s clone far in the back, lounging on the stone throne, whistling to get his attention before tossing a rock his direction. His head tilted ever to the side to let the rock whiz by his ear, not catching this time the Genjutsu that bounced off of the stone.

The racket was like a church bell being sounded off behind him, but with a different sound effect. Instead of hollowed rings of brass it was the distinctive ‘clack’ of a rock hitting wood, but at intense decibels. The sound reverberated in his head causing the boy to squeeze his eyes a little in pain as he realized exactly how the final test was going to be. A battle of subtle wits, illusions, and one-upsmanship. The teen stopped at the door when his sensei placed his arm across his shoulder. He supposed that most males his age would be in absolute bliss to be in the arms of such an attractive older woman; that was, supposedly, the whole thing about horny males his age. Perhaps, also, had it been a different woman Shinjo might of been even slightly swayed, but a mix of the visions of the previous Genjutsu fresh in his mind and what he knew of Miro in general caused his body to jerk in reflex. His shoulder bumped up her arm and then knocked it back and away from him, and as he did he could feel another surge of energy try to subjugate his chakra flow.

Miro-dono,” Shinjo said lowly as he took in everything about her lounging form on the throne except her eyes, “I…am angry,” he said with a small quiver of rage.
I have never been so angry before, not like this. Lies have built everything I knew, and no matter how much I wish life had been different, I can’t stop from becoming what they wanted me to be: a weapon. Today is no different. You seek to test me, see what kind of edge I have honed before taking me into battle…” his left hand gently gripped the hilt of one of the two blades at his side. At the same time his eyes moved away to look down at the palm of his right hand as if to reflect but instead used his dojutsu to create invisible ‘chakra cats’. They clung to his arm and bit down simultaneously on his wrist before tearing away a piece of the boy’s soul and dropping to the floor to dart to the corners of the room,. All, save one that simply moved behind him and sat down.
I want to know my worth, too,” Shin said before curling his open hand into a fist.

His eyes looked back up. The left hand holding onto his katana tore it from its sheath and launched the blade across the room to land in the center between the two. Instead of planting itself like steel in wood normally would, the blade instead sank into the floor as if he had thrown the weapon into water instead. The ripples of the Genjutsu feeding into the weapon rolled across the floors, the walls, the ceilings as Shino then held out his right hand as if holding a weapon and darted towards his sensei. She had already made the first attacks by attempting multiple Genjutsu attempts on him, and he could not let her keep taking the upper hand. His eyes ached right then as he started in his attack, and he swore he felt a crack of a blood vessels popping in the corners of his eyes. Was it a Genjutsu he had missed? No, Shin thought, more likely the use of his new dojutsu. He didn’t know what it was except that it was possibly a mutation of the Sharingan. Just like his sensei’s dojutsu, it no doubt came with restrictions as well. With a single half-handseal he began to mold chakra into the right hand holding onto nothing as he moved to strike, seemingly, with nothing but the balled fist pretending to hold a weapon; which was a deadly ruse. At the last possible second, the chakra molding in his right hand would activate and turn on a seal pre-written on his palm. The cat that was left sitting at the door vanished suddenly and in Shiro’s hand was suddenly a katana swinging down its full weight with the sudden momentum of his arm cutting downward.

The attack was big, open. There was a number of openings in his assault that rookies usually left vulnerable. The same openings that those who had not actually ventured into a fight to the death against an opponent who could easily kill them had. Yet, subtly, those same openings were traps. The invisible chakra cats moved around the room as Shinjo did, making sure not to break line of sight with the boy. It was so he could draw another weapon from seemingly nowhere, and along with the weight and momentum of his sudden attack came a clearly something poisonus coating the blade as well meaning that even a scratch could be potentially bad for the Sennin.

---------
Attacks used:
Fields of Elysian with the Visual Genjutsu: After Image (Yamanaka Ikabane final jutsu)
Armiger Arsenal (the cats)
Basic Strikes w/ Poisoned Weapon
All weapon draws are done with Quickdraw
Swords all have Nightshade Extract and Serpent's Blood Poison
 

Kagami Miro

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The time for games was over. Observant red sharingan watched from the window sill as he smacked my clone's hand away from him. How rude! To deny the advances of yours truly? It should be an honor, if I held any true intimacy toward him. What truly caught my attention, the anger that radiated outward in chakra waves. Anger, hatred, malice. Shinjo had turned into a fine weapon and all I had to do was plant the most infuriating images into his mind. Searing them onto his wrinkled brain like a brand to a cows arse. This of course made him immediately hostile toward anyone in his vicinity. The twisted playful demeanor I used at the beginning needed to be concluded. It was time to get serious, and unfortunately for Shinjo I wouldn’t hold back. To play petty games when the student wanted… no, demanded… craved to seek out their potential power only to be met with silly games was an insult. I encountered that feeling in my earliest spars. For Shinjo, I’d allow him to taste from the gem-encrusted chalice of the Uchiha bloodline.

Reality warping ripples emitted from the katana that sunk into the earth. From the center a valley painted with beautiful flowers in a variety of colors engulfed the monastery. The scent from the flowers traveled elegantly into the nostrils of my clones closest to Shinjo, yet their eyes remained fixated on his person. My clones that tried to ‘Woo’ Shinjo had her lips curl into a smile. Shinjo leapt past my clone who met him at the doorway. This boy wasn’t just rude, he had terrible taste in girls! He possessed the speed equivalent of a veteran chuunin, his footwork had been silent yet I wondered if he believed to be faster than his superior. No matter, for recklessness was always a steep slope with jagged rocks at the bottom.
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A clean white slice cut was all it took to render my clone who sat at the throne that had been engulfed in flowers; confused. Blood erupted from her shoulder blade while the pupils of her eyes faded from a vibrant red to a dull black. As her body peeled apart her insides began to spew out razor sharp shreds of paper in all directions. With a sudden burst of dust the clone vanished leaving a torrent of razor sharp pieces of paper to shred through Shinjo if he wasn’t careful enough.

From the doorway Mirō formed her hand into a finger gun like children used when they played cops and robbers in the streets, and aimed it directly at Shinjo’s exposed back. Her thumb acted like the hammer of a flintlock pistol, “Bang.” She whispered, pulling the “trigger”, a violent red beam of lightning emitted from her finger, bolting toward Shinjo. Chaos quickly ensued within the monastery. Clone smoke covered the flower fields and sharp sheets of paper sliced off chunks of the terrain and rooted themselves deep into columns like shuriken into training dummies.

demonhand.jpg
I had high hopes for his reaction time. Front, back, side to side. Mayhem in all directions except for one. From the window sill I rose to my feet. While rising my hands silently clapped together to perform a complex seal. Rat, Serpent, Dragon, aligning her natural chakra properties and intertwining them to form one of her tricks up her sleeve. From the ceiling a large bloody red demonic hand reached down out from the abyss, hovering above Shinjo. It's intimidating black aura radiates around it while the knuckles and joints crackle and pop with anticipation. Right when Shinjo would move I’d trigger my hands to lurch forward to control the ominous hand to snatch him up and away. ‘Just hold still Shinjo. The visions you need to see will be warmer than the sands in the desert, but you’ll hate to pull away.’ A surge of pain rumbled through my eyes, forcing more blood to seep out from the corners and down my cheeks. The side effects of Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan knocking at her front door so soon.

[Paper Clone destroyed and dispersed]
[Paper Clone casting Mastered Zeus Flash]
[Mirō casting Clutch of the Giant]
 

Ryuu Tama

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Shinjo’s hand gripped the blade hard as he tore it down to slash through Miro’s shoulder cleanly. Surprise, and confusion took over as the highest emotions rolling along with his adrenaline. How? He knew that his training and specialized studies made him a candidate above the rest, but the fact that he had actually landed a blow on the ANBU Sennin seemed so unlikely; but Shin didn’t hesitate. As blood welled up past the wound the kid bit down on his lip and overrode the voice in his head that told him to ‘let up’ before he killed her. The teen knew Miro better than that. Even with the limited interaction they had, something in his stomach told him sternly that she would not have let such an easy attack to go off.

He was correct.

As the blade continued down an explosion of paper peeled off and rushed at the teen. Shinjo’s pupils dilated as he swung his hips to change the rushing momentum to roll with his push back as he launched backwards with his right foot. The hand holding his weapon rolled so that side of the blade was facing the incoming sharp sheets of paper and began a crossing windmill action to knock away a general amount of the shredding paper as he landed on his feet in a backwards slide away from the first paper clone. A few bits of the paper had managed to slip past his guard and produced small cuts to his face and clothing, but nothing close to detrimental. Yet, before he could even think about standing up or his next move, he heard a single word being uttered,
Bang.”

The boy’s power marked eyes tilted to his left peripheral as he stared behind him over his shoulder briefly to see the other paper clone he had rushed by holding out a finger shaped gun. With a sudden gasp the teenager pushed with his left foot and spun like a top on his right heel a whole 180, holding one of the swords across his chest to guard against the attack. His other hand shot up and held up in defense as one of the chakra cats he had created zipped across the monastery floor to transform into a sword as Shin grasped the energy creature; and just in time. A red bold of lighting struck through faster than he could see, struck his blades, and only just managed to miss a vital organ. Holes in the center of each blade he had used to defend himself with sizzled with smoke; the same as the small wound on his side where an open hole was now freely bleeding. Blood rushed up into his mouth and poured out. His left lung had been punctured. He felt it. Real pain, a wound gained by not just some spar but from a fight that felt real. She intended to kill him just as he placed the same intent in his own attacks. However, Shin had just barely managed to deflect the attack from killing him, and any other Genin probably would of just dropped there from the pain. It was far worse than being cut, or beat, or trapped inside of a Genjutsu that toyed with his mind. It was a sizable hole in his body that he could feel threatening to rip apart if he made the wrong sudden movement.

It didn’t stop him, though. Shin couldn’t stop; wouldn’t stop. Despite the wound Shin dropped the two broken blades and called another cat to leap into his outstretched hand. Instead of making sudden moves though, he simply swung the sword down as a red aura covered the blade. When the blade was parallel with the ground, it exploded into thousands of cherry blossom petals that swirled around with the illusionary flowers and scents until it became clear that the petals were circling around the clone. Shinjo’s eyes narrowed as he used his dojutsu to control the petals to strike at and eventually corner the last Miro he saw until she was pinned. Tilting the handle of his sword, the petals suddenly converged all on what he assumed was another paper clone; and if not, he had high doubts that something like this would be enough to kill a Sennin. Wound, perhaps, but not kill.

In that moment of victory, though, the teen let his guard down. As he remained so focused on making his petal blades corner the Miro he saw, the focus he kept on his own chakra and knowing when he was about to be hit with a Genjutsu wavered. Before he could voice a cry of fear or battle, a large demonic hand grasped him and darkness was all that took his vision…
 

Kagami Miro

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The chaos of the battle sent a shiver down my spine. Calling myself a tactical genius, master of war and combat was a stretch and a half. But, everything had fallen into place so neat and snug I could only commend myself with a pat on the back. The paper explosion sent Shinjo into disarray which left him open for Zeus Flash. The intent to kill remained resolute, giving the student a true feel of battle against a formidable opponent. With a skillful twist of the body he was able to see through the guise of lethal intent, having lightning pierce through his chest to avoid his heart. A small frown inverted to a proud smile. “Unfortunately, you got hit. What was the purpose of dashing past me?” I shrugged my shoulders while he hit the ground. Most students cry out in pain and forfeit their dreams at the feeling of true pain.

The shock, burned organs, convulsion of arteries and the every second occurrence of blood pooling at the pit of your throat waiting to be puked up alongside other bile. Fear and regret seeps into the brain, rooting itself deep in the mind like a parasite. If anyone knew how that felt it was me, on a terribly spiritual level too. ‘You’re not alone either.’ That silvery voice chimed into my brain. I gave a reminiscent nod, red hues noticed Shinjo continued to fight even when on the last limb. ‘A notable trait to have. Some would say foolish too.’ Within the flower field, blood stained those colorful petals in a deep crimson. Even at wits’ end Shinjo performed ninjutsu, petals enveloping my clone and shredding her to bits. As the clone was lacerated a cynical smile remained on its lips as spurts of blood eventually turned into sharp sheets of paper to again attack Shinjo. Luckily for him the gigantic demonic claw snatched him up, eating most of the paper shrapnel that was directed at his vessel.

The red hand clenched Shinjo tighter. The gravity that circulated within its palm refused to let him squirm within it. The hand clutched him tightly before locking its knuckles in place to further send the message that Shinjo was near his end, and unable to move. Red hues of mine scanned over the battlefield. Flowers began to disappear as Shinjo’s life force slowly drew to an end. Those black cats that sat shocked in the corner refused to take an advantageous step forward. The area surrounding him had been safe and secure enough for myself to jump down from the window sill with hands tucked into my pockets. Landing gracefully my head turned to gaze at the mess Shinjo ended up in. Eyes widened to reveal the unique sharingan design and without a word I stepped closer to him. His hair dangled freely, his open wound poured blood, coating his face and the demon hand with bloodstained trails. My hand reached out of my pocket, loud cracking of joints echoed through the silent monastery. Swiftly I snatched up a tuft of his hair to focus his gaze into my hypnotic hues. My other hand reached up toward the hole in his chest. With two fingers they entered into the hole to poke his innards with sharp nails. Sending bolts of pain throughout his body while my voice echoed out to him. “Living through such hardships… wouldn’t it be easier to give it all up and die?” Blood streamed down my cheeks to splatter on the ground between my feet.

Slowly Shinjo’s reality would twirl into a dream state. In this dream I so carefully crafted for him turned all the wrongs in his life to a warm and glowing reality. The scent of blood and death would wash away from his memory like engravings in the sand during high tide and wipe his mental slate clean for a short while. Within the dream he would see two parents that showered him with undying love, surrounded with joy and happiness and a life outside of the deadly shinboi one he existed in. While he fought within the dream state of my tsukuyomi, the finger that probed his innards peeled apart to subtly seal the open wound I gave him. ‘Never said I was heartless.’ I chuckled, forcing more chakra into the tsukuyomi to envelope his mind. The true test; a will to accept his reality.

[Shinjo placed under Uchiha Moon Branch - Tsukuyomi.]
 

Ryuu Tama

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Blood gurgled in Shinjo’s throat as he struggled to breath, and as Miro’s fingers pushed their way into the hole in his chest, a shameful whimper escaped past the blood flowing from the boy’s mouth. Tears welled up from the pain to flow down his cheeks. He had lost, and rightfully so. Giving into so much of his anger and passion, the hubris of his talent in believing he could truly beat a Sennin, and the naivety of his attacks had landed him in this situation. As Shin stared into the swirling abyss of his sensei’s Sharingan, he could only imagine how long it would take for him to recover from this set back. The world in his blurred vision began to show cracks until the scene exploded into fragments of his imagination, and he was thrown deep into a lifeless void….

Until he sat up screaming covered in a cold sweat. His heart was beating 90-to-100 and clothing stuck to his body. His hands touched his body looking for scars of the wounds, wondering how long he had been out, only to find no scars anywhere. Even the ones he had proudly earned from sword training. His skin was soft, his muscles gone, and with a cool summer breeze from the window of the bedroom the boy slowly realized he was in tickled his bare neck, Shin realized his hair was…short. Shinjo tried to leap out of the bed only to find his feet tangled in the sheets, causing the boy to fall onto the floor with an ungracious ‘thump’. Barely a second later a man threw open his door and came roaring in with a hand-ax and a look to kill; a look that quickly softened at the sight of the boy on the ground.

“Shin! You scared the shit out of me boy! I thought there was someone in here trying to kill you with all that screaming!” Shinjo stared at the man above him in disbelief. Standing at nearly six-foot-four, wearing a simple house kimono, stood his father that had been killed by his own hands years ago. He smelled like the timber he was known for working with instead of the alcohol that had rarely left his side. His hair was also uncharacteristically shortened, and instead of the wiry frame of a wasting alcoholic, were bulging muscles of a true lumberjack.
“D-Dad…?” the boy asked in a voice higher than he had recalled having as he continued to stare in disbelief. Quickly, tears of confusion welled into his eyes.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay now,” said the parental figure as the man dropped his ax and swooped down to lift Shinjo from the blankets and hold him close, “It was probably just a really bad nightmare. Do you remember anything about it?” The boy could only shake his head as he genuinely felt everything about that horrible dream life slip away.

The Student’s life began anew. He woke back up a few hours later in the early morning to the smell of a delicious breakfast. Eggs and sausage baked inside of a cornmeal based pastry. It was expensive for their family to eat, but he suspected that it was because of his fiasco last night with that weird dream. He couldn’t fight the small knot of guilt sitting in his stomach over the idea of his family spending extra money on him just to make him feel better, but, also couldn’t at all mask the excitement over getting to eat his favorite food. As he clambered down the staircase into the kitchen he saw his mother pouring the mixed batter into a glass dish to be slid into the wood-burning oven. She had beautiful raven hair and the most enchanting red-hued pupils that he had ever seen. Supposedly she was from the Uchiha clan and had a lot of pull in their country; if she wanted it. Yet, had instead decided to settle down with a run-of-the-mill lumberjack foreman who ran his own little business near the coast. Their life wasn’t glamorous, but, then again that mattered little to them. Instead, it was all about their Little Shin.
“Morning sleepy,” his mother half-chided as he had apparently slept in. Shin half-recalled that he was supposed to be up doing his chores already before his tutor came by, but before he could even stress about it his mother informed him that both things were nothing to worry about today because of the rough night he had.
“There you are champ,” called his father already sitting at the table eating a hearty plate of nothing but breakfast sausage and black coffee, “Almost considered dragging you out myself! Come on over, sit down!”

The entire day went on like this. Everything Shin could have ever wanted in life was real. Simplicity, a loving family, and a set course in life instead of the chaos of the life that he held in reality. One day ended, another began, then it too ended. In the genjutsu trapped world he wandered in the boy lived nearly a whole month of bliss before his ego finally started to crack. Inside of that world, every now and again, he would see a black cat with weird eyes. Sometimes the cat was following him on his way to play with friends, sometimes the cat would appear in the corner of his bedroom as he tried to sleep before vanishing when he got up to see if he was seeing things. Then, one day, the cat landed square on the table during his breakfast, sat in front of his plate, and spoke,”
“This isn’t real,” it said, “You’re losing yourself.” Yet it came out as a weird yowl that he understood before his father sushed it away with the back of his hand.
“Damn cat,” his old man chided, “real problem with strays around the ports these days. Heard Old Man Kagami had one the fish on his line stolen the other day.”
“Ka…gami…?” Shinjo said as he stared at the cat running out the open back door to his home.

Miro?

“Yes, Miro,” spoke another cat as Shinjo turned his head towards it to find himself transported instantly into the living room where he did basic studies. The teacher there was a tall skinny man with long blond hair and two-different colored eyes. The lesson was on science, and super complicated for no reason it seemed.
“Miro is your sensei, and the woman who is tormenting you right now. Break free, Shinjo.”
“Tha hell! Who let dis cat in ‘ere?!” yelled the tall blond as he stomped his boots at the cat to chase it back out the open door again, “Now, as I was sayin’…hey, kid. You payin’ attention?!”

Cold sweat coated his body. Clothes clung to his flesh. Once again Shin sat up in his bed drenched and holding up a shaking hand except that it was covered in blood. He could smell death in the corner of his bedroom. He tried really hard not to look at it, but he couldn’t fight his eyes puling over to the gruesome scene of his dead family. He stared at them, no longer in his bedroom, but from the outside of a window of the same house he had grown up in. Inside was a skinnier version of himself with a katana, hacking at the body of his father, except that his father looked nothing like his father. He could feel his breath starting to quicken, and his heart race.
“That’s you,” the cat spoke again, this time appearing on the windowsill, “You murdered your father after he killed your mother, Shinjo. You killed your godparents when they revealed themselves to be enemies of the state. You are a warrior, bathed in the blood of human souls. Wake up!”
Something caught in his throat. He started to cough violently holding his hand to his lips until he felt warm blood washing over it. The boy pulled it away to see once more his real hand.
“That’s right…I’m not a boy…” his mind echoed. The talking cat was slowly reminding him of his sins, of the thing that he had become. He looked down at his body and once again found the muscles of his training, the scars of the same, and the callouses of a swordsman’s hand eerily drinking in the blood he had coughed into his palm. “I’m not a child…I’m…a killer.”

A soldier. A teenager who has suffered more than most adults did by their thirties. A genius. A promised tool for a village of other soldiers to fight and protect in their chaos torn world. So that he could try to keep other children from suffering as he had. It wasn’t a dream, an ideal, his creed, or a promise to keep himself from falling into the abyss; he already had. It was just a simple justification for why he wanted, no, needed to continue living. Otherwise, why bother?


Shinjo coughed blood at Miro’s face as her fingers filled in his wound as he still sat gazed beneath the powerful genjutsu. He was still well lost in the world she had created, and yet, the black chakra cats of his dojutsu technique had started to slowly work their way out from the corners of the room. The cowering they had shown at her display of power had slowly turned into a reflection of Shin’s willpower as he fought against the Genjutsu. Then one suddenly darted out from behind a pillar to pounce at her, and at the last second, turned into a katana to break her line of sight and reflect the Sharingan in its mirrored finish back at her.

[MFT]
 

Kagami Miro

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The dreams weaved throughout Shinjo’s mind were a result of my Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan. Manipulating the chakra points in his brain and eyes I was able to alter and twist his memories into whatever I desire. Shinjo… like soft putty in the cusp of my hand, molding your mind into the sweetest reality. I often thought to myself if this was too cruel to test mere students on. Such as life, sharp punches were the key to kneading the perfect dough of life. Students of all ages needed to learn that and the earlier the better. ‘Just look how I turned out!’ Whispering in her mind, a faint giggle slipped past pink lips. Shinjo was special too. His boldness during their first encounter spoke volumes of the will power held within him. With proper direction from a powerful teacher, he’ll be a lethal asset in her tool belt.

What felt like months to years in his dream was only half an hour in the real world. A few minutes had drifted by until signs of his will power poked through the veil of the dream. ‘Damn cats.’ I couldn’t help but smile at the progress Shinjo was making. For each attempt at breaking away from the sweet dream, I forced a small burst of chakra here and there to fix the veil once more. Each awakening attempt squashed before it began but as time went on so did eye strain. The amount of time Shinjo took worked against me. My Sharingan was powerful, however I hadn’t fully mastered long durations of usage.

This phenomenon caused the veil of the Tsukuyomi to weaken, and his will power seeped through with powerful corrosion. With my free hands they clasped tightly against his bloodstained cheeks. ‘I need to focus, lean in and burn my Tsukuyomi deeper into his mind.’ Blood spattered by face as I moved closer with my unblinking red hues... my own focus betrayed me. A small cat darted across the room behind me from pillar to pillar and eventually lurched forward. The intention to kill ignited my brain like sparks to gasoline. This broke my focus, if only for a moment.

The glint of metal shined off the katana and I witnessed my own bloody hues within the blades fine finish. ‘He went to break eye contact?’ Bewildered from the glint of the blade I flinched, dismantling the Tsukuyomi. I stepped back in disbelief, stirred by Shinjo’s will and even more so his skill. No matter how long he had spent in his dream I’d have to applaud him for breaking free. ‘Exceeding my expectations!’ The golden dagger holstered above my backside stirred lightly in agreement. The giant hand that clutched Shinjo so tightly unbuckled its joints causing Shinjo to hit the ground like a fish out of water. The red hand ascended back into the black hole in the ceiling while I continued to stare down at his limp body. For the first time in a while a smile adorned my face flashing those pearly white teeth. “Shinjo, you’re finally awake! That only means one thing!” I squatted down before his body with my hands on each knee. “You’ve accepted your true self, haven’t you?” A rhetorical remark, it had been obvious from the tremors of chakra that corroded her Tsukuyomi viel.

The weight of chakra exhaustion began to collapse on my shoulders like massive tree logs. Forcing myself to keep up the act of perfect health I continued to speak to him. “Want the good news or the bad?” Her red hues examined his body being careful for any sudden movements given off by the tightening of his muscles. His chakra had been spent, but he was a wildcard. “Bad news, you’re completely out of chakra and I’m not carrying you off the mountain.” A hand extended out to playfully poke his bloodstained forehead to get a reaction from him. “Good news is I’m passing you for your genin exam. Even adorning you the title of A-i-T.” Speaking with excitement. I reached into the back on my backside, tracing my fingertips on the chill of cold steel. From the pouch I present Shingo with his own Kumogakure headband. Unresponsive as he was I opened his hand to give to him. “You’ll be working with Kumo’s deadliest ninja under my wing. I have high expectations for you, Shinjo.” Honesty coated my words. ‘What was your genin exam like Mirō?’ That voice entered my head, and I refrained from answering. I couldn't help myself without a devious smile. “Roll onto your side or you’re going to bleed out.” Following in suit I placed a healing hand on each side of the open hole on his chest, eventually sealing the wound enough to stop the bleeding.

‘Maybe I should go easier on my next student. I’m not a medic.’ I shrugged, laying him back down on his back. I scanned the room once more making eye contact with the chakra cats. “Well Shinjo. I must be wrong, you still have chakra.” She clapped once signalling the test had been completed. “I’ll let you decide how you get off the mountain. I suggest getting up now and walking out with me. Nights are especially harsh on the mountain tops.” I turned towards the massive brass doorway that led out to the stairwell back down the mountain. Of all the places to host an exam, I chose the worst one without regarding the outcome. Not enough chakra to summon Naibu to carry him and using my Mangekyou to open up a portal also fell out of the equation. A heavy sign escaped my lips as I adjusted my neck to relieve soreness. ‘This’ll be one hell of a walk back.’


[Genin Exam: Passed!]
[Promoted to AiT/Genin based on your choice.]
[Topic left unless stopped.]
 
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Ryuu Tama

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Shin-…finally…means one th-…pass!

The words of Miro echoed in and out of Shinjo’s ears as he slowly felt the harsh reality he had been torn away from creep back into his body. A year of life lived in a honest and decent way slowly crawled in the corners of his memory, followed by the realization of what he had to do in order to finally break himself of the masterful Genjutsu. The teenager’s eyes opened and turned up to glare at Miro with a deep bloodlust for a single moment before easing up. Part of his brain was still mid-fight, and it was hard to relax the reflex honed muscles of his to grip on the sword still in hand and attempt to cut off his sensei’s smile by removing her lower jaw. Yet the lingering lethargic grip of the Uchiha’s ultimate Genjutsu and explosive pain of his chest kept him from even attempting to do so.

Miro proclaimed he was going to be under the ANBU Branch to further hone the edge of his human body that had become Kumogakure’s weapon. The thought both excited and chilled him. It would allow Shinjo to train to heights he never could have achieved through the Main or Medical Branch; ANBU had access to strict documents he had been wanting to get his hands on for some time. However, that also meant he was going to be in a field where death would be his mistress, his food, and his life. As he felt the cold steel of the coveted Kumogakure headband being slid into his other palm, the hand gripped it tightly - there was no turning back from this. Yet as his sensei turned him on his side and healed the wound on his chest with a slight imperfection, Shinjo wasn’t sure if he wanted anything else. He wasn’t part of the Branches that reacted, he was to be folded into the Branch that prevented, and that was all he could ask for as a shinobi. If he could prevent even one person to fall in the abyss of despair he had finally started to crawl from, if he could crush his foes before they could even begin imagining themselves as a threat to Kumogakure…then all would be right for the teenager.

Shinjo relaxed his mind enough to finally undo his own dojutsu, and the pain of his eyes caused a throbbing of pain in his head that threatened to make him vomit, but he held out. Chakra from the cats that slowly dissipated one-by-one re-entered his body and gave him enough strength to allowed the swordsman to slowly sit up. With a helping hand, Shinjo found his feet again and stood up as the storm outside raged on. Miro was clearly exhausted too, no doubt having had him trapped in that Genjutsu for far longer than she intend, but the results of their near deathmatch would soon show themselves in the battles to come. Shinjo slowly placed his bared steel back into its sheath, and hobbled after the ANBU Sennin as they both decided it was best to slowly descend the mountain in the most mundane way possible - by walking.

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