Private Class - Ryuu Farmlands, Training Ground [Req. Shuusui Ruri]

[Ryuu Nozomi]

Spring had finally taken its hold over the Lightning Country. The Ryuu farmstead looked nothing like the cold, silent property it had been throughout most of winter. Pale green shoots pushed confidently through dark soil and rows of freshly turned earth lined the fields in patient symmetry. Plum and pear trees along the edge of the property had begun to blossom and their petals drifted lazily with a mild breeze. In the distance, farmhands and villagers moved methodically between furrows starting the yearly process of sowing the land.

Nozomi sat on the low wooden fence that bordered a smaller plot. It was her father’s land, a modest cottage with pale siding and a stone chimney which stood behind her. The barn beside it bore years of weather yet it stood sturdy and reliable. The wood beams had been repaired by careful hands over time and the entire place carried an honesty that she found grounding.

Over the past few years, it had become home.

Her boots rested lightly against the fence rail as she watched petals drift past. She wore simple training attire consisting of dark trousers and a fitted top with sleeves rolled just high enough to free her wrists. No clay satchels hung from her hips today, no tools, and no preparations hidden beneath the earth. Instead, her hands rested loosely on her knees, relaxed and idle.

The invitation sent to Ruri only contained five simple words with no objective or clear explanation:

Ryuu Farmstead. Morning. Come alone.

So, she would wait for the girl to arrive, and then explain what she had in mind for the day. After all, Ruri had already completed so much, Nozomi was curious exactly how she may challenge the girl any farther. That was until a bright idea filled her mind and spurred her to create the note which had already been sent.

For now, there was nothing else to do but enjoy the peaceful morning breeze and the warmth of the suns radiance.

[WC: 332, Class: 1/5, Total WC: 332/1,000]

 

[Shuusui Ruri]

Ruri arrived not long after the sun had cleared the treeline. The path that led to the Ryuu farmstead was softer underfoot than the stone roads of the village, packed earth still damp from recent spring rains. Grass had begun to creep back over the edges of the trail, and the air carried the scent of soil, blossoms, and fresh growth. It felt different out here, quieter, slower. Not the sharp, electric energy of Kumogakure’s peaks, but something steadier. Something that moved at the pace of seasons instead of shinobi drills. She had come alone as instructed, not that she had anything to fear since the invite was from Nozomi. Her outfit was simple but comfortable, suited more for movement than formality. Black spats hugged her legs, paired with a white tank top that showed the toned lines of her shoulders and arms. Over it, she wore a slightly oversized green hooded jacket, the sleeves loose enough to move freely. Her usual ninja sandals completed the look, practical as always.

Slung over one shoulder, however, was something far less typical. A small, carefully wrapped parcel rested in her hand, tied with a simple cord. It wasn’t flashy or extravagant, just a respectful offering of preserved mountain herbs and tea leaves from the Shuusui estate. The sort of thing that older generations insisted on. Her father had all but pushed it into her hands before she left, reminding her not once, but twice, that one did not arrive at another clan’s property empty-handed. Ruri still thought it was an old, stuffy tradition, but she had brought it anyway.

She’d turned the note over in her hands more than once before leaving, pondering the meaning of this invite, was it training, something more formal? She was curious none the less, a trait that might on day lead her to danger. Nozomi wasn’t the type to waste time however, and she certainly wasn’t the type to call someone out to the countryside for no reason. That meant whatever this was… it mattered. Her pale eyes scanned the farm as she approached. Rows of soil, drifting petals. It was peaceful in a way that almost felt out of place around Nozomi. Not wrong, just… unexpected.

Then she spotted her. Perched on the fence, relaxed, hands idle. No tools. No clay satchels at her hip. No sign of work waiting to be done. That alone put Ruri slightly on edge. She slowed to a stop a few paces away, straightening her posture out of habit. Not rigid, just attentive. Ready. Her breathing was steady, her body warm from the jog, muscles loose and responsive.

“Morning, Nozomi.” She lifted the small parcel slightly.

“My dad insisted I bring this,” she said, sounding faintly apologetic. “From the Shuusui to the Ryuu. He said it’d be disrespectful not to.”

A small pause, then a grin tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“…So,” she added, eyes scanning the area again, “what are we destroying today?”

[Class Post - 1/5]
[WC - 498]
[Total WC - 498]

 

[Ryuu Nozomi]

The parcel was the first thing Nozomi noticed. It represented intention, upbringing, and structure. All things that Nozomi could appreciate. She stepped forward and accepted it with both hands, fingers careful around the twine as though it were more fragile than it appeared. The weight was modest and the scent of dried herbs filled her nostrils in a pleasant sort of way.

“I’ll show him,” she said quietly, meaning her father. “He’ll appreciate it.”

There was the smallest pause after that, sort of an acknowledgment without elaboration. Nozomi herself did not entirely understand such formalities yet she had grown up around them. She watched gifts exchanged over low tables and tea, but they had always felt… ceremonial. Still, ceremony had purpose and it allowed for bridges to be built before conflicts required them. She knelt down and placed the parcel carefully near the base of the fence post, out of range for what may come next.

“As a token in return,” she added, rising smoothly, “you may take seeds before you leave. Any of the trees, herbs, or crops, whichever you like most. There’s more than enough to spare.”

Her gaze drifted briefly over the orchard line and toward the early plum blossoms before looking back toward Ruri fully. Nozomi lept off the fence rail entirely and closed the distance between them. For a moment, she simply studied Ruri's stance, the ease in her shoulders, and the quiet strength in her legs.

“I was impressed,” she said without flourish. “At the springs.” She spoke it like simple fact.

“You didn’t have to stay. You didn’t have to rebuild anything, but you did.” She tilted her head slightly, pale eyes continue assessing without condescension.

“You saw something broken and decided it deserved to stand again. However, there will be nothing here to break today. Unless you wish to break me."

Her tone remained steady.

“I want to see the same fire you had when you ran at me in the springs. When you thought I had robbed that place of peace and tranquility. I will not overwhelm you with ninjutsu and explosions. This will be a test of your specialty, and your opportunity to surpass your previous boundaries with it.”

It was an honest challenge, and she would step back now, creating space deliberately. This would be difficult, not just for Ruri but for Nozomi as well. This would be proof of how far Nozomi had come with Rei's training to not have a dependence upon her chakra to survive in a fight. Her posture shifted into a defensive readiness. Nozomi looked balanced and prepared to absorb, redirect, and reflect any attack that may come her way.

There would be no grand spectacle, no devastation, and no craters. Simply movement, intuition, and intention.

“Show me what you've got,” Nozomi said quietly, and then she waited for it to begin.

[WC: 477, Post 2/5, Total WC: 809/1,000]

 

[Shuusui Ruri]

The offer of seeds lingered in Ruri’s mind even as the conversation shifted. The Shuusui compound already had its fair share of flowers and herbs, carefully tended by older hands, but the thought of a fruit tree felt different. Personal. Something she could claim as her own and watch grow with her.

“A pear tree,” she said after a moment, giving a small, satisfied nod. “That suits me, I think. I always enjoy them in the summer.”

Then Nozomi hopped down from the fence, and the mood changed. Compliments came first, quiet and sincere, spoken like simple facts rather than flattery. Ruri wasn’t used to that. Most praise she’d received in her life had been about her clan, her eyes, her name, rarely about something she had chosen to do. She blinked once, then twice, letting it settle. And then came the challenge. A fight? Ruri stared at her for a second, the emotions swirling together, confusion, curiosity, and something like excitement. Was this what friends did? She wasn’t entirely sure. Her social experience wasn’t exactly… extensive. But she did know how to tease.

“Oh yeah? Like the springs, huh?” she said, a crooked grin tugging at her lips. “Should I get naked again then?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, slipping her oversized green jacket off, just slow enough to give Nozomi a mild panic before tossing it onto the fence. The air brushed against her bare arms and shoulders, cool and clean. No theatrics, no hesitation, just the simple preparation for a fight. She knew Nozomi was stronger overall. In a real battle, with ninjutsu and explosives, she’d be outmatched. But here? In taijutsu? This was her ground. Her element. Ruri took a few paces back, boots settling into the soil, and dropped into her stance. It was a posture she’d held thousands of times, calm, cantered, deceptively passive. Defensive on the surface, but coiled with intent beneath.

Her eyes flared. Veins rose along her temples as the Byakugan activated, the world sharpening into clarity. Chakra gathered around her hands in a faint blue aura, soft and controlled. Ruri was the first to move, the ground barely crunching beneath her sandals as she burst forward in a sharp, controlled dash. One moment she stood at a distance, the next she was nearly nose-to-nose with Nozomi, her presence closing in like a sudden gust of wind. Her hands shot forward, fingers extended like the tips of twin spears, and a rapid flurry of precise strikes followed. Each motion was tight, efficient, and guided by the clarity of her Byakugan, chakra pulsing at her fingertips as she targeted the tenketsu points along Nozomi’s arms and torso. There was no hesitation in her movements, she had been told not to hold back, and so she fought as she was taught, using her clan’s prized techniques with the clear intent to win.

[Class Post - 2/5]
[WC - 480]
[Total WC - 978]

 

[Ryuu Nozomi]

Ruri’s teasing caught Nozomi off guard..

“Should I get naked again then?”

Nozomi’s composure slipped for just a moment and the memory returned without permission. The steam, the chaos, and the sharp scent of pulverized bone. That first time there had been no room for thought and no space for embarrassment. There was only survival instinct and adrenaline. But now... beneath a clear spring sky with blossoms drifting lazily through the air, the image struck differently. Ruri’s grin, the bare skin flashing in white mist, and the reckless, unfiltered confidence she showed that day.

Heat rose along Nozomi’s neck before she could stop it. A faint bloom of red touched her cheeks, subtle but real. She shifted her stance as if adjusting her footing, using the movement to regain control.

“This is not that,” she replied evenly, though a thin thread of fluster slipped beneath her calm.

When Ruri shed her oversized jacket, Nozomi’s gaze flicked once over the toned lines of her shoulders and arms before snapping back to her eyes. Mentally, she locked the image away to think about later while focus returned like a blade sliding back into its sheath. This was a time for discipline, and it seemed Ruri acknowledged it too as her Byakugan flared to life.

Veins surfaced along her temples, chakra gathering at her fingertips in a faint blue aura. Then, she moved fast enough that the grass barely had time to whisper beneath her sandals. The first strike came in a blur but Nozomi pivoted with subtle precision. A tilt of the shoulder and a half-step backward that let Ruri’s extended fingers pass within a hair’s breadth of her arm. Chakra kissed fabric, but not flesh. The next strike followed, sharper and lower. Nozomi dipped inside it, rotating her hips so the spear-like fingertips grazed only the edge of her sleeve.

Ruri’s flurry intensified, a disciplined storm of tenketsu-targeted thrusts aimed at arms, torso, and collarbone. Each movement was tight and efficient, guided by the clarity of her clan’s prized eyes. Nozomi knew right from the start that she was not holding back, which was good.

Nozomi continued to allow proximity but not impact. She let strands of hair shift from passing air pressure, let fabric flutter, but denied skin every time. Beneath the surface, she catalogued everything from the rhythm of Ruri’s breathing, the subtle tightening in her jaw before she committed to forward pressure, and the way her weight loaded just slightly on the third strike of a sequence.

Instead of retreating further, Nozomi stepped forward now and closed the gap deliberately until they were nearly nose-to-nose. If Ruri wanted proximity, she would have it. When Ruri’s fingers darted toward her torso again, Nozomi mirrored the stance exactly. The same posture, the same spear-hand extension, but she exaggerated wider arcs, clearer lines, and movements amplified as if illustrating their own structure.

The only difference is, she was faster than Ruri and her blows found purchase. Despite being more obvious and less precise, she would poke Ruri's flesh without the chakra embedding her hands. Her mirrored strikes began landing in sequence, not with damaging force, but with precise taps. A controlled touch against Ruri’s sternum or a hard stab along her collarbone. Each contact arrived exactly where Ruri had just opened herself in the act of striking.

“You’re too slow. You're committing before you know your strike will land,” Nozomi murmured between exchanges, slipping past another thrust and redirecting Ruri’s wrist with the back of her knuckles.

Frustration sharpened Ruri’s movements as she surged again, faster and more aggressive. Nozomi allowed the escalation, stepping inside the flurry rather than yielding to it. She felt the shift in timing and the overextensions that came from urgency. With a smooth pivot on her heel, she let Ruri’s momentum carry her a fraction too far and answered with three light, deliberate touches to centerline points across her chest and stomach.

Not hard enough to leave lasting damage, but enough to hurt.

The next attack was nearly invisible but Nozomi caught the micro-shift in Ruri’s shoulder. She stepped inside the strike, her palm hovering just above Ruri’s chest, close enough to end the exchange decisively. She held it there for half a breath without pressing.

“This is your specialty,” she said quietly, eyes locked with hers. “Act like it.”

Then Nozomi withdrew, resetting the distance. She straightened, breathing steady, realizing that being so close to Ruri this whole time had made it so the warmth still lingered in her cheeks from earlier. Still, her eyes remained sharp but there was no cruelty in them, only care.

This new game had begun, and Ruri would start to realize just how far she still had to climb to reach the top of the mountain.

[WC: 797, Post: 3/5, Total WC: 1,000+]

 

[Shuusui Ruri]

Ruri noticed it the second it bloomed. That faint wash of pink along Nozomi’s neck. Subtle, almost invisible if you weren’t looking for it. Ruri was looking, but, she didn’t comment nor tease. Didn’t give voice to it. But a small, satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth before she buried it beneath focus. Then the fight resumed, and the smirk faded quickly. Every strike missed. Not by inches or sloppy margins, but by fractions. Threads of fabric brushing her fingertips. Air displacement tickling her knuckles. The faint kiss of chakra grazing cloth but never sinking into skin. It was infuriating in a way that felt deeply personal. Skill-wise, Ruri knew she was not inferior. Her form was clean. Her targeting precise. Her Byakugan mapped every tenketsu in perfect clarity. She could see the flow of chakra beneath Nozomi’s skin like rivers beneath ice. She knew exactly where to strike. But Nozomi was faster and more experienced. She wasn’t reacting to Ruri’s hands. She was reacting to the decision before the hands moved and that stung Ruri in a place she'd never felt before. When Nozomi began striking back, controlled taps, deliberate touches landing exactly where Ruri had overcommitted, the frustration deepened. They weren’t heavy blows, but they carried meaning. They were corrections, lessons in her own faults.

“You’re too slow.”

The words slipped beneath her guard more easily than the strikes. Ruri felt heat crawl up her spine, though it wasn't fear or doubt, it was pure, white hot anger. Her eye twitched slightly at the words penetrated. Her style did not thrive on aggression. The Gentle Fist demanded clarity, precision and emotional stillness. If she surged recklessly, she would drop structure, lose angles. and miss for real.

But being told to “act like it”

That flashed red behind her pale eyes. For a split second, she wasn’t standing in a sunlit farmstead. She was back in the Shuusui compound, a small child, overhearing the adults speaking about her. TO small, to weak, only a male heir would suffice. Her jaw tightened... this isn’t an enemy. She forced the thought through the heat.

"This isn’t someone you need to break." She echoed in her mind.

Her chakra surged in response to the spike of emotion, flaring brighter around her hands. She consciously redirected it, not outward in a wild burst, but inward. Feeding it into her muscles. Into her legs. Into the pathways that sharpened her reaction speed and visual acuity. Her Byakugan intensified, veins at her temples standing out more prominently.

"Fine." She snarled under her breath.

If this was about speed and experience, she would bridge the gap. Her stance shifted subtly, the spear-like fingertips withdrew. In their place, her palms flattened, fingers together, wrists aligned. Broader striking surfaces. More control. Less commitment per thrust and she moved again. Faster. Her strikes came in tight, whipping arcs. Open palms snapping toward shoulders, ribs, throat, hip joints. Each carried weight now, not just chakra injection, but physical force. Her muscles engaged fully, movements feeding off the enhanced output flowing through her limbs. Still, she felt fabric. Still, air. Still, the whisper of proximity without impact and the words just kept echoing. Too slow. Committing too early. Act like it. Her breathing shortened. Not panicked, but sharper and more aggressive. She hated that the voice had found its way into her head. That it was guiding her awareness even as she tried to silence it. Another miss. Another brush of cloth and something just snapped.

“Will you just shut up!” she shouted, frustration finally bursting through the discipline she’d been clinging to.

It wasn’t fear or surrender. It was irritation boiling over. She surged forward, not with wild form-breaking recklessness, but with focused aggression. Her left palm feinted toward Nozomi’s shoulder while her right shot straight for her face, fingers splayed wide. Not a tenketsu strike but a grab, an attempt clamp. All in an effort to cover her mouth and silence the voice that had wormed its way into her mind. If she couldn’t stop the words inside her head she’d stop them at the source. A sound idea in her mind...

[Class Post - 3/5]
[WC - 696]
[Total WC - 1674]

 

[Ryuu Nozomi]

Nozomi knew exactly what she was doing as every word had been chosen with surgical care. Every slight correction and mirrored strike was deliberate. She wasn’t just defending herself, she was pulling the strings to tug at Ruri's pride. It was something that Nozomi was certain existed, and she anticipated that Ruri hated being underestimated. She saw the shift the moment it happened by the heat in Ruri’s eyes and the tightening of her jaw. The surge of chakra that focused inward and sharpened her hands to become steel.

Nozomi adjusted her stance by mere inches, with weight settling into the balls of her feet. Ruri’s speed increased and the arcs of her palms became tighter while her Byakugan flared brighter. The next series of strikes came faster, cleaner, angrier, but still Nozomi did not retreat. She continued to allow for proximity as if it was an illusion of success while she quietly catalogued every overextension and continued to answer them with light taps or a press at the hip of her sparring partner.

She mirrored each flaw in exaggerated form before correcting it so that Ruri could see what she saw. How steps were taken too wide for a heartbeat, but then she tightened it into a strike upon the young girl. Or allowing her elbow to flare just enough to show vulnerability before snapping it back into disciplined alignment.

She tried to teach a lesson written in motion rather than words.

When Ruri shouted, the sound tore through the quiet fields and startled birds from the nearby trees. Nozomi did not flinch, instead, she smiled in recognition. This was the line where emotion blurred and form fractured, and that is exactly what occurred. Ruri’s left palm feinted high as the right hand shot forward with fingers splayed out to cover her mouth.

Nozomi’s eyes flicked once to the shoulder that preceded the grab and pivoted sharply. She'd step inside the arc instead of away from it allowing her body to turn fully around Ruri's forward momentum. One hand slid up along the striking arm to redirect the angle and the other rose instinctively to mirror the grab that Ruri was attempting to land her within.

Their positions reversed in the blink of an eye.

Nozomi’s chest aligned against Ruri’s back as her free hand captured Ruri’s wrist. The other hand pressed decisively against Ruri’s mouth. Perfect positioning, and she was fully prepared to announce the end of this game. She even had the line prepared within her mind...

'You just lost. You gave up your center of balance and now your neck is exposed.'

But, then it happened...

Ruri didn't freeze, recoil, or attempt to twist free as she thought. Instead, the mouth within her palm pressed forward into the pillowy lips upon Ruri's face, and the world narrowed all of a sudden.

Nozomi felt a rush before she understood it. The warmth, the slight movement, and the undeniable softness of skin against skin. Her breath caught sharply and she felt as if her lungs forgot the purpose of their existence. The teasing pink that had highlighted her neck earlier returned all at once in a brighter shade that raced up across her face and felt like burning. The air shifted, or maybe it was her heart that skipped a beat.

For as much as she thought of every scenario, she had failed to account for this variable. Her hand remained there a few seconds too long and the mouth within her palm responded with instinct rather than thought. It would attempt to explore this new warm and soft territory with curiosity rather than the hunger her mouths normally possessed.

The training ground seemingly fell silent as the world faded away. Nozomi could no longer hear the hum of insects, the distant rustling of crops, or the faint creaks of wood from the barn behind them. The world seemed to dull, and come to life all at once. They had been touching in this way for long enough that her brain caused Nozomi to pull back.

Instinctively she would release Ruri's wrist and turn the girl so there would be space created between them as if distance might steady the sudden vertigo she felt in her chest and head. Her breathing was uneven, but not from exertion. If Ruri looked upon her now, she would see a face flushed so deeply that red could even be found at the tips of her ears. A sheen of nervous sweat had gathered around her temples and for the first time, her eyes found themselves avoiding Ruri's gaze.

This had not been the plan and her mind quickly scrambled for structure, analysis, or correction. Anything tactical to comment and yet nothing came. Instead, she swallowed once and finally looked back at Ruri without a smirk upon her lips. There was no goading edge to her tone as words breathlessly came from her lips.

“I…” she began, then stopped as she wasn't sure what words were about to come forth.

“That wasn’t the technique I meant to demonstrate.” She attempted to correct herself as her composure continued to waver.

The wind moved through the orchard behind them, petals drifting lazily across the field. The training had been effective, but had quickly concluded at this disruption. Nozomi was not sure where to go from here, this wasn't a step she had prepared a counter for and so she simply awaited a reaction to what just occurred.

[WC: 914, Class: 4/5, Total WC: 1,000+]