Tomo grumbled at his hand as his brother watched him. "This is ridiculous. How is this any different from lightning?" Takama gave his younger sibling a smack on the head with his paper fan. "Plasma is completely different. It is a mixture of fire and lightning. It is pure, heated energy." Tomo scowled through pouted lips. "Lightning is a hotter than the sun. That's extremely scorching energy already." The elder Mochizuki crossed his arms sharply. "Be that as it may, it's the concept of the elements. Stop overthinking so much and just DO IT!" Takama flexed his arms downward to emphasis his new favorite catchphrase. He continued. "Don't let your dreams be dreams!" Tomo rolled his eyes. "Can't we do this another time?" Takama gave his brother another smack. "No! Yesterday, you said tomorrow, so just DO IT!" Tomo grumbled again as he concentrated on his hand. "I don't know what's worse, the desert, or this ludicrous training."
Truly focusing on his chakra now, Tomo thrust his palms outward, shooting a spray of purple lightning through the training room. Takama struck once more. "No! Fire! You're forgetting the fire!" The redhead sighed loudly. "Why is this so hard for you to grasp?" Tomo grimaced. "Because fire doesn't come naturally to me. I got the affinity from Aitouka." Takama shook his head slowly. "How long are you going to go on about that? It's time to wake up Tomo! You don't have voices in your head! You just fabricated them due to trauma. The ability to control fire is yours, not some imaginary friend's." Tomo approached his brother, getting right in his face. "Shut up! You don't know anything about what goes on in my head! You've never understood anything about me, nor do you know what's best for me! You threw me in a damn desert! And how did that go? Oh, that's right, I NEARLY WENT INSANE!!!" The mood intensified as Takama grabbed his brother by the shirt and slammed him against a wall. "EXCUSE ME?! I fixed you! When that started, you could barely walk! Now you won't be a pussy if someone flicks sand at you! You should be thanking me!"
Tomo's body pulsed with rage, and he felt his chakra swirl about him. The black from his hair drained, grafting to his arms and back in the form of ink. His torso was encased in white clay, causing Takama to pull his hand away before it was swallowed up. Tomo's eyes burned green as he seized his brother by the neck with an ink tendril and lifted him up. His voice was like a loud whisper. "Do not pretend you did me any favors brother. I did not ask you to fix me. I cannot get back that time you took from me. You should be glad I don't throw you into a cellar and lock you there for the rest of your life." Tomo tossed Takama to the ground, glowering down at him. "Well Takama? Would you like that?" His brother was still for a moment as he met Tomo's gaze. The middle-aged man's body shuddered before he bolted out of the training room door. Tomo bent his legs to give chase, before freezing. The recent memory of Takama's eyes, and the fear they held, caused the younger Mochizuki to fall to his knees. "What am I doing?" He looked down at his inky claws and trembled. "What is this?" His gaze lowered to the clay coating his body. "Get off me!" He scraped at his torso, white chunks clattering to the ground with each swipe. Blood seeped through his shirt as he dug too deep. The pain and fear he felt was enough to dispel his Avatar of Divinity, and he returned to his usual form.
His body was strained from the jutsu, and he fell to his side. It took the rest of his strength to roll onto his back. He held onto consciousness, but his body refused to move. He stared at the ceiling as he digested the last fifteen minutes. Regardless of whether Tomo or Takama were in the right, one thing was clear. "That sucked."
Truly focusing on his chakra now, Tomo thrust his palms outward, shooting a spray of purple lightning through the training room. Takama struck once more. "No! Fire! You're forgetting the fire!" The redhead sighed loudly. "Why is this so hard for you to grasp?" Tomo grimaced. "Because fire doesn't come naturally to me. I got the affinity from Aitouka." Takama shook his head slowly. "How long are you going to go on about that? It's time to wake up Tomo! You don't have voices in your head! You just fabricated them due to trauma. The ability to control fire is yours, not some imaginary friend's." Tomo approached his brother, getting right in his face. "Shut up! You don't know anything about what goes on in my head! You've never understood anything about me, nor do you know what's best for me! You threw me in a damn desert! And how did that go? Oh, that's right, I NEARLY WENT INSANE!!!" The mood intensified as Takama grabbed his brother by the shirt and slammed him against a wall. "EXCUSE ME?! I fixed you! When that started, you could barely walk! Now you won't be a pussy if someone flicks sand at you! You should be thanking me!"
Tomo's body pulsed with rage, and he felt his chakra swirl about him. The black from his hair drained, grafting to his arms and back in the form of ink. His torso was encased in white clay, causing Takama to pull his hand away before it was swallowed up. Tomo's eyes burned green as he seized his brother by the neck with an ink tendril and lifted him up. His voice was like a loud whisper. "Do not pretend you did me any favors brother. I did not ask you to fix me. I cannot get back that time you took from me. You should be glad I don't throw you into a cellar and lock you there for the rest of your life." Tomo tossed Takama to the ground, glowering down at him. "Well Takama? Would you like that?" His brother was still for a moment as he met Tomo's gaze. The middle-aged man's body shuddered before he bolted out of the training room door. Tomo bent his legs to give chase, before freezing. The recent memory of Takama's eyes, and the fear they held, caused the younger Mochizuki to fall to his knees. "What am I doing?" He looked down at his inky claws and trembled. "What is this?" His gaze lowered to the clay coating his body. "Get off me!" He scraped at his torso, white chunks clattering to the ground with each swipe. Blood seeped through his shirt as he dug too deep. The pain and fear he felt was enough to dispel his Avatar of Divinity, and he returned to his usual form.
His body was strained from the jutsu, and he fell to his side. It took the rest of his strength to roll onto his back. He held onto consciousness, but his body refused to move. He stared at the ceiling as he digested the last fifteen minutes. Regardless of whether Tomo or Takama were in the right, one thing was clear. "That sucked."