Memories flooded through the hundred-year old’s mind. How long had it been since he had conducted training on someone not of his bloodline? Sixty years, at the very least. He could not remember Kitani’s face anymore, but he could still hear the unbearable screams of pain of his first love rending the stale air of his clan’s home; his own were right behind that mnemonic sound.
Despite this the older man continued to rig the old device up in the center of the dojo. The labor of such made his clothes cling with sweat. Deep circles had developed under his eyes and his flesh taken to an unhealthy pale tone, which to say a lot; being that Uzu and bloodline kept an unnaturally light complexion despite living in the desert. Two large jars of black fluid, his own blood, hung around the edge of the dojo’s arena suspiciously as he continued to acid etch a sealing ninjutsu into two thick logs that had been bonded with iron bands into an “X” shape. From an outsider’s perspective it looked like the fat old shinobi was about to literally crucify his new apprentice.
“There…” he mumbled beneath his mustache. The weariness of molding chakra long enough to etch out the seal, while working with only a quarter of the blood a human normally would be running, had clearly taken a toll. Weight was clearly burning off due to the feat quickly, as he had taken to suspenders to continue holding his pants up. It was the Uzu’s first time doing it as well, which he summed up probably wasted more chakra than Tama would have; but Toushin refused to give the idiot any more due than what he already owed.
“Now, the final step…”
Toushin stepped back from his clan’s old initiating device and preformed a series of handseals to send a jolt of chakra to his new apprentice: Akari. It would be like a smack to the back of the head, and then a tug on her neck; rude, unapologetic, and antagonizing. This was on purpose, hoping to rile the fury of the young female. The ritual required strong emotions to complete, and like pig iron Toushin had to melt out the impurities before he could make a proper blade out of the AiT. Another jolt, this time a question spoken without words, “Return?” It was an old ninjutsu that the ANBU Captain had surrounded his makeshift dojo in, one that allowed those who stepped in to traverse space and time in moments to reappear. It was fantastic for safehouses and protecting lower rank goons - but did little for the old assassin himself. Maintaining it was all he could do with it via the limitations of his own chakra.
Tired as Uzu was, he still greatly looked forward to seeing how Akari would bloom during the ritual. She already had a bloodlust to her that was unmistakable. Both of the two girls Shin appointed to him did. He saw those two going a long ways ahead of even himself in time; it was his job to ensure they stayed loyal to the right cause.
Despite this the older man continued to rig the old device up in the center of the dojo. The labor of such made his clothes cling with sweat. Deep circles had developed under his eyes and his flesh taken to an unhealthy pale tone, which to say a lot; being that Uzu and bloodline kept an unnaturally light complexion despite living in the desert. Two large jars of black fluid, his own blood, hung around the edge of the dojo’s arena suspiciously as he continued to acid etch a sealing ninjutsu into two thick logs that had been bonded with iron bands into an “X” shape. From an outsider’s perspective it looked like the fat old shinobi was about to literally crucify his new apprentice.
“There…” he mumbled beneath his mustache. The weariness of molding chakra long enough to etch out the seal, while working with only a quarter of the blood a human normally would be running, had clearly taken a toll. Weight was clearly burning off due to the feat quickly, as he had taken to suspenders to continue holding his pants up. It was the Uzu’s first time doing it as well, which he summed up probably wasted more chakra than Tama would have; but Toushin refused to give the idiot any more due than what he already owed.
“Now, the final step…”
Toushin stepped back from his clan’s old initiating device and preformed a series of handseals to send a jolt of chakra to his new apprentice: Akari. It would be like a smack to the back of the head, and then a tug on her neck; rude, unapologetic, and antagonizing. This was on purpose, hoping to rile the fury of the young female. The ritual required strong emotions to complete, and like pig iron Toushin had to melt out the impurities before he could make a proper blade out of the AiT. Another jolt, this time a question spoken without words, “Return?” It was an old ninjutsu that the ANBU Captain had surrounded his makeshift dojo in, one that allowed those who stepped in to traverse space and time in moments to reappear. It was fantastic for safehouses and protecting lower rank goons - but did little for the old assassin himself. Maintaining it was all he could do with it via the limitations of his own chakra.
Tired as Uzu was, he still greatly looked forward to seeing how Akari would bloom during the ritual. She already had a bloodlust to her that was unmistakable. Both of the two girls Shin appointed to him did. He saw those two going a long ways ahead of even himself in time; it was his job to ensure they stayed loyal to the right cause.