Open Taijutsu 101: Augmented Armaments [CLASS]

[Sabishii]

...He didnt give up... he didnt quit... but, he did fall solemn. When your entire body was supposed to be the weapon, you didnt have to worry about losing your weapon. Because you were always armed and ready. Sabishii knew this, The Kazekage knew this, Yuka knew this, and to anyone that didnt know that were idiots. They would fall the quickest especially with the subject of war being something presented on the horizons. It was daft to think otherwise when there was so much blood that could be spilled at a moment's notice. At least, so the tired boy would feel, but there was something else brewing from the darkness. Who would know...

Looking up to the blonde woman that moved to his position, 'When... did she get here?' he would blink as she whispered to him, for his ears only. Looking up to her the boy frowned, "Yes Ma'am... Master of the Martial Art. Glory seeker." looking back down he'd huff. The feelings around him would be... odd.

"Tsk~ Silly boy~"
"Our Silly silly boy~"

The ghostly whispers would chime in just as the heat would course through Sabishii's hands causing the boy to leap to his feet waving his hands frantically as he'd look about and see the others struggling with the exact same thing he was going through, but he was the only one having such a reaction which caused him to pause with pink forming on his cheeks with embarrassment taking hold of his stomach. His visage was broken for a moment before he'd calm himself. 'Conceal. Dont feel. Dont let them know.' he'd breath thinking to himself. He simply had to let it go as the ghosts would come up from the ground under his feet. The heat from the technique was some sort of... Genjutsu? 'Is this the....power of mental combat? ....I like it...' a smirk forming for a moment as he felt the pain, he forced down a grimace trying to use the pain as fuel. The ghosts forming slowly coming up from pools under him, would begin to stretch out reaching ghostly hands at the weapons on the table infront of him but they would pass through.

'Gah! I cant... get them to... touch.' he'd frown before his concentration would be broken by Yuka and her stone bullet. This would cause him to reach down for his own polearm and give it a conserted effort unlike what he'd done previously. With hot hands, he'd attempt to twirl the weapon from one hand to the other before jutting it forward. It fumbled in his hands a bit but he was able to save it from completely falling from his grasp and jut it forward imagining hitting his opponents neck... and being spilld with the blood of their fading existence.

"Delightful."

[WC = 1000+/1000]
[Post 3/5]

 

[Kōsa Harikēn]

With each swing, with each snap movement of his wrist to change the orientation of the tonfa, he could feel the fluidity begin to flow into his arms. Though he could tell his movements were sloppy in the presence of a world champion like Kyuji-san. Overall, you are doing well with them. I have no real commentary to offer aside from keep pushing yourself with them if you want to use them in the future and you will see the inexperience quickly disappear." Hariken could feel his bodies movement tighten; the Uzumoreru always pushed themselves to the most calculated point until singularity. He began pushing his body hard, faster, progressively speeding up and up and up; bobbing his head, weaving his foot and body into the air, whilst snapping around his wrists, sending both the tonfa spinning within his hands while striking at the air with his foot and tornado tonfas. The landing was the tricky part; he didn't factor in the spin force of the weapons to create enough force to prevent a clean foot placement, but as Hariken brought his foot down to land, the tonfa hadn't come to a complete stop yet; stumbling slightly with his footing, and losing focus on the rotation of the tonfa; the glorified projectile launched out of his hands, and unfortunately began on direct course towards the blond haired boy, that the other students knew as Suisen, but Hariken missed that introduction, or just couldn't remember the kids name. HEY KID, DUCK!!!!! He would shout towards him as it travelled in the air. Whether it accidently hit or not, Hariken would walk about to him, bending down to pick up the displaced tonfa, Sorry about that, should save the more fancy footwork for later. Hope you're ok. While accident happen it was important to own up to ones mistakes, and take responsibility. He listen to Shin as he spoke, taijutsu was never his specialty so it would appear; subterfuge and illusions, deceit and tricks; those were the skills their instructor implemented in proficiency. Those attributes seemed much more in line with was he wanted to learn. Heat. Burning. Tense. These feelings filled his mind and his body; the weapon in his hand began to burn, even though it wasn't just a moment ago. "So I ask you now, how much dedication are you willing to have? Will you endure what comes and prove you belong here? Or would you prefer the comfortable life of a merchant? A mechanic? There is no shame in choosing safety over the blade." "But if you stay, show me your resolve. Show Kyuji-sensei your resolve. Prove that you can hold your weapon even when everything in your body screams to drop it. Prove that you can still fight when your body is begging for death." So this was a test of resolve and determination, Simple. He knew not of the other history, but Hariken's mind flickers to that night when the ouroboros of the Uzumoreru chose him, saved him, beckoned him to push further to prosper. Breath in. Breath out. That simple four word chant echoed in his head like a lullaby. Hariken gripped the tonfas with intent. He envisioned himself with his parents, he was telling them about how classes are going and becoming a shinobi. With an exhale, and gritted teeth, Hariken would embrace the handicap, and once again attempt to start practicing with the weapons once more; but if any were to look at him he'd appear to be in a state of inner tranquility [MFT] [WC: 594] [POST 3/5 1000+/1000]

 

[Chikamatsu Suisen]

The burning started slowly, like someone had left the training tonfa out in the desert sun too long. Then it got worse. A lot worse.

"Oh, that's... ow..! that's definitely not normal!" Suisen's voice cracked slightly as his hands suddenly felt like they were gripping hot coals instead of wood. His crimson eyes went wide, darting between the tonfa and his father's composed face.

Of course it's a genjutsu. Of course Dad would do this.

The logical part of Suisen's brain understood what was happening. The flowers, the pollen, the sudden coordinated pain across all the students, it was textbook illusionary technique. But knowing it was fake didn't make his nerves stop screaming.

"Okay, okay, so this is the real test, Let's go!!" Suisen's voice was higher than usual, strained but still trying to maintain that characteristic enthusiasm. "That whole 'can you hold a weapon when everything hurts' thing! I get it, yup. Message loud and clear dad!"

His fingers trembled. The instinct to drop the tonfa was overwhelming. Every nerve in his hands was shrieking let go, let go, LET GO.

A shout cut through his concentration. "HEY KID, DUCK!!!!!"

Suisen's head snapped up just in time to see a tonfa spinning through the air toward him. His body moved on instinct, dropping into a crouch as the projectile sailed over his head, close enough that he felt the air displacement ruffle his blonde hair. Fortunately for Suisen, he had just finished a class with Kureji-Sensei on how to dodge most effectively, which resulted in the boy getting a sick guitar as a reward.

"Whoa!" He straightened up, heart pounding even harder now. "That was close!"

The older student—Hariken—approached quickly, bending down to retrieve the wayward weapon. "Sorry about that, should save the more fancy footwork for later. Hope you're ok."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good!" Suisen managed a shaky laugh, though his hands were still burning from the genjutsu. "Nice throw though! Well, unintentional throw. Still counts!"

But then his father's words cut through everything else: "Prove that you belong here."

Suisen's jaw clenched. His knuckles went white around the burning handles.

"You know what?" Suisen said through gritted teeth, forcing a grin even though his eyes were watering. "I've been holding onto way heavier stuff than this for months! Emotional baggage! Existential dread! The crushing weight of living up to impossible expectations!"

He was rambling now, using words as a shield against the burning sensation.

"So yeah! Some fake fire hands? That's nothing! Kureji-sensei's class makes this one feel like a cake walk."

It's not nothing. It hurts so much. This was way worse than a game of dodge ball.

Suisen shifted his stance, trying to remember the proper tonfa form despite the agony. His movements were shaky, imprecise, but he kept the weapons in his hands. He forced himself to execute the defensive rotation, even though the motion made the phantom flames feel like they were consuming his entire forearm.

"The weapon is secondary to the wielder," Suisen repeated his father's earlier words, but this time his voice was quieter. Less performative. "Which means... even if I'm not the son you wanted... I can still..."

He took a shaking breath and forced himself into a proper fighting stance. The tonfa felt like they weighed a thousand pounds.

But he didn't drop them.

"I belong here," Suisen whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "I belong here."

[MFT 250+]
[PC: 3/5]

 

[Kyuji]

I would listen to our Kazekage speak to the class in front of him and nod in agreement as nothing that he was explaining was incorrect. While many of them would likely go down the Ninjutsu path for the flashes and flares or the path of illusions to have an advantage, the art of taijutsu was not one that should be completely ignored as it could make the difference between life or death. I, also, had a personal bias towards it since I focused on utilizing weapons when I needed to fight including my bare fists - objects that were around where a fight was engaging were also a strong strategy. But, each one of them would have to find that path that fit them the best as they continued to learn and experience things in life - it was a fun thought experiment though for the educators and current shinobi to gauge how they all were and would be within a short time.

While my former student was speaking, I saw what he was did to them subconsciously as he spoke. He used a similar technique on them as he did on his, Kohana, when they were sparring and I observed them. I could sense this trickery was of a lower level than what he had put his sister through, but he was being considerate of the students and giving them a little taste of the reality of being a shinobi as each one of them would react in their own ways. His technique was a basic Genjutsu that many learned at the age of the students or shortly after graduation to try to make an enemy slip up and present an opening to strike them while they were distracted. However, many of these students were greener than I had experienced before and their reactions all were justified in their own ways even if some felt more traumatic or filled with emotions than others.

The abnormal student with six arms would make a wise decision initially by taking the weapons in his hands and covering them up with a natural ability of his body: silk. I was not surprised by seeing the technique based on his appearance and build at a young age, but what I was not expecting was for him to morph the basis wooden weapons into a makeshift weapon and attack me. I could feel myself smirk as I thought to myself "Oh, you are approaching me?" I would allow his wipe to come, but after a split second, he would see the whip split clean down the middle. The weapons morphed into it collapsing to the floor as he would feel cold, steel touching his chin as I looked up at him due to him being a few inches taller than me. A smile on my face and a nod as I spoke to him: "I am impressed, Goro. You actually attacked me and showed me a clever way to combat what your Kazekage was doing to you. Bonus points to you for thinking of how to minimize the pain and use it to your advantage."

As I finished speaking to him, I could see pellets in my peripheral going towards Shin. It was a weaker technique and likely a reaction to the sensation that the young Yuka was experiencing, but this was also a class on Taijutsu, not Ninjutsu. I would take a few steps and stand in front of my former student as the attack came towards us. With a slash, the pellets would split in half like Goro's weapon and I would walk over to the ginger-haired girl. She was still clenching that kunai in her hand which was slightly impressive and she had managed to use one-handed seals which were not something that you usually saw till someone was well past being a student unless they were fortunate to be raised in a family that specialized in them. Once I was standing in front of her, she would see my green eyes glowing as I addressed her directly: "I will give you credit for holding onto your weapon and enduring the pain. However, you need to learn to endure the pain as Shin has not put you under any true danger and attacking your teacher - your elder - your Kazekage - is not a wise decision. You are fortunate that he is forgiving and understandable. Others are not and would have struck you down and ensured you were not breathing. I don't need people coming to the Hospital for sheer acts of stupidity. Do better." As I finished, she would feel a flick on her forehead from me as I walked away. It might have been overboard and over the top, but we didn't have time nor the resources to have people making decisions that could have been avoided if they had used their brains.

Shinda and Sabishii would be the next two that I would see as the first was pushing through the pain while the other seemed to have his sprites conversing with him again from what I could tell. Both of them were experiencing the more severe effects of Shin's technique on them, but I would observe from afar as both of them were not giving up and trying to keep going even though I knew their minds would telling them that it hurt and to let the weapons go. Truly, these two were the most unique of the class aside from Goro having extra arms than the normal civilian. I could not say much about what I was watching from either of them as their reactions were expected from what they were put under by their Kazekage. However, I would speak out to them both: "You are doing well, Shinda and Sabishii. Keep it up."

I would have said more but I saw the weaponry that Hariken was using flying through the air and almost taking out Suisen in the process which caught my immediate attention. My initial reaction was concern, but once I knew they were both okay and they conversed with no hostility, I would breath a sigh of relief - no Hospital visits today. Internally, I was face palming and chuckling to myself as it was not the first nor last time that a student would go through their classes and have a slip up like that. I would catch Suisen mention Kureji's name which made me want to question why a former shinobi of our village was training our students, but this was not the time nor place for that - it was a topic for another day with Shin. I would not have much to say after watching that unfold aside from a nod at them and a simple: "You are both doing good, Hariken and Suisen. Endure the pain and keep pushing."

After I spoke, I would go lean against the wall again and allow them to continue to practice or for Shin to instruct them.

---

OOC:

• WC: 2642/1000
• PC: 3/5

 

[Chikamatsu Shin]

"Adequate progress," Shin observed, his pale blue eyes tracking each student's response to the genjutsu with clinical precision. A grin would strretch across his face, he was suprrised to see how well these students reacted to such a sudden sensory explosion.

His gaze settled first on Goro, whose makeshift silk whip had been cleanly bisected by Kyuji's blade. "Tsuchigumo Goro. Your adaptation was resourceful. Using your clan's natural abilities to mitigate a disadvantage, would be clever... However, you've proven my point rather than circumvented it. The moment Kyuji-sensei cut through your improvised weapon, you were left with nothing. A shinobi who relies solely on preparation will fail when circumstances exceed their contingencies."

He paused, then added with the faintest hint of approval, "That said, attacking when presented an opportunity shows proper instinct. You did not freeze. be proud of that."

His attention shifted to Yuka, standing rigid with her kunai still clenched despite Kyuji's reprimand. "Hokkyoku Yuka. Your technique was imprecise, your chakra control undisciplined, and your target selection... questionable." There was no anger in his voice, there was actually a bit of joy as the corner of his mouth lifted to a smirk. "But you held your weapon through the pain and you struck back when wounded. That aggression will serve you well, but only if you learn to temper it with judgment. A blade that cuts indiscriminately is as dangerous to its wielder as its enemies."

He looked toward Shinda, noting the tears still tracking down the boy's face even as he maintained his grip and continued his practiced thrusts. "Kyouketsu Shinda. Interesting. You endure through memory rather than resistance. Pain as fuel rather than obstacle. Continue."

To Sabishii, fumbling with his polearm while ghostly wisps swirled around him, Shin's voice carried a trace of curiosity. "Hokkyoku Sabishii. You improved from your first attempt, even in the face of a true challenege. I am glad to see your willingness, but you have quite aways to go. Again."

Hariken received a brief nod. "Uzumoreru Kōsa Harikēn. Your breathing technique suggests mental discipline. Good. Though perhaps save the aerial maneuvers until your grip is more certain."

Finally, his gaze settled on Suisen. The boy was trembling, knuckles white around the tonfa, tears in his eyes but refusing to drop the weapons. Shin's expression remained neutral, revealing nothing.

"Suisen. You chose a weapon outside your comfort zone. You maintained your grip despite the pain. You endured a near-miss from a projectile without losing focus."

There was a long pause.

"You've accomplished what was required of you."

He clasped his hands behind his back and addressed the class as a whole.

"The genjutsu will fade in about twenty seconds. When it does, I want each of you to understand something fundamental about the shinobi path."

The flowers around the room began to wilt, their petals curling inward.

"Taijutsu is the foundation upon which everything else is built. Before you can effectively mold chakra for Ninjutsu, you must understand your body's limitations and capabilities. Before you can weave illusions with Genjutsu, you must know what physical reality feels like so thoroughly that you can convincingly distort it."

He watched as the burning sensation began to fade from their hands, relief visible on their faces.

"If you truly desire to become shinobi, not academy students playing at combat, but actual protectors of this village, you will dedicate yourselves to strengthening your Taijutsu skills first. Master the basics. Make your body a weapon that never fails you."

Shin gestured toward the training implements on the table.

"For the remainder of this class, you will practice. Drills, repetitions, refinement of form. Kyuji-sensei and I will observe and offer corrections, but understand this clearly: practice makes progress, not perfection. Perfection is not a destination we hand to you... it is something you achieve through your own individual dedication to your craft."

His pale blue eyes swept across each student one final time.

"How quickly you progress, how far you advance, when—or if—you achieve mastery... that is entirely in your hands. We can only show you the path. You must walk it yourselves."

A slight pause, then:

"Begin your drills. I will be watching."

[4/5]

 

[Goro]

The whip had felt solid, sturdy, and stable. It tore through the air, guided by his hands, but it never found its mark. The weight vanished as he watched the silk split in two, the seams falling apart against the ground as he looked on in shock. The feeling of cold steel pressing against his skin made his entire body shiver. Even though he hadn't blinked, the woman before him was far faster than anyone he had ever encountered. She made her point with that single slash and offered a compliment on his adaptability.

Goro looked down at his hands. Two of his six limbs were shaking, specifically the ones that had felt the brunt of her strike. Even though she hadn't physically touched him, her blade had sent a wave through his very core. She was a monster. By every account, his senses were screaming at him to run away, but for some reason, a small smile crept onto the corners of his lips. He wasn't sure what the feeling was. It was as if excitement and fear were brewing inside him, churning into a tornado of emotions.

Goro snapped back to reality as the Kazekage called out to him. Shin approved of his methods for adapting against the illusions, even giving bonus points for fighting through the fear and attacking the tournament champion. Goro listened intently as Shin delivered the criticism he needed. Regardless of his ingenuity, he was still too reliant on his tools. He had been raised in the way of his clan, but he couldn't ignore the advice. Goro looked down at his hands and observed the dirt and scratches that covered them, the calluses slowly building from constant work in the tunnels. Just the fact that he was a six-armed human meant he had to build more muscle dexterity and work harder than the average kid to get the same results.

Goro dropped the webs and the remaining weaponry. He decided to show them something different. Rather than hide what he was, he would embrace it. Goro unfurled his extra arms widely, placing the limbs that protruded from his shoulder blades over and under his primary arms. He began by throwing a jab with his left hand and followed up with a straight from his right. He repeated the combo, but during the right straight, he tried to throw in an overhead chop from his middle-left hand.

He stumbled. Goro was inexperienced and moving purely off instinct, but he was attempting to teach himself a system for unarmed combat. He was trying to build a six-armed style that revolved around simultaneous movements and total control. He was sloppy at best when mixing in these extra movements, but there was a raw science starting to take shape.

WC: 1000+/1000
Post Count 4/5

 

[Chikamatsu Suisen]

The burning finally faded, and Suisen's entire body sagged with relief. His hands were shaking like a polaroid picture but like not from weakness, but from the adrenaline crash of holding on through phantom fire. He looked down at the tonfa still clutched in his white-knuckled grip and let out a shaky laugh.

"Holy crap, that was intense!"

He flexed his fingers experimentally, half-expecting them to still feel scorched. When they didn't, he grinned, genuine this time, not performative.

"Okay, so... Taijutsu is the foundation. Got it. Makes sense actually... can't always rely on sneaky chakra tricks if I'm exhausted or sealed or whatever."

Suisen adjusted his grip on the tonfa, rolling his shoulders to shake off the residual tension. His dad's words echoed in his head: `practice makes progress, not perfection.` And that bit about individual dedication determining when you reach mastery. He grinned. If there was one thing he wanted it was recognition and he would stop at nothing to get that.

He glanced at the other students. Goro had created that crazy silk whip thing. Yuka had literally attacked the Kazekage with stones. Shinda was crying but still moving. Sabishii was well.... being Sabishii, and Hariken nearly took his head off but was now in some weird zen state.

Everyone was struggling in their own way. Everyone was pushing through.

But then Suisen looked down at the tonfa in his hands and something clicked. This wasn't his weapon. This wasn't his specialty. He'd proven he could endure with it, sure, but like that wasn't the same as showing what he could actually do... so fuck it, he would finally show off to his old man!

"You know what? I held onto these through literal fake fire, so I think I proved the point about dedication and endurance and all that jazz."

He set the tonfa down carefully on the mat and stepped back, his crimson eyes brightening with renewed energy.

"But if we're talking about my foundation for Taijutsu..."

Suisen's hands moved through a practiced sequence of seals, Tiger, Rat, Snake, Bird. His chakra flared, and suddenly the air around him shimmered with blooming energy. Dozens of flower petals materialized, floating around him like a deadly garden. Each petal was razor-sharp, edges gleaming with compressed chakra, their colors ranging from deep crimson to pale violet.

"Chikamatsu Secret Technique: Flower Petal Jutsu!"

The seals on his arms tingled as he extended both hands, and thin, nearly invisible threads of chakra extended from his fingertips. Each thread connected to a floating petal, and Suisen's grin widened as he felt the familiar sensation of control.

"Puppetry is considered advanced Taijutsu, right?" he called out, his voice carrying that characteristic enthusiasm but with an edge of genuine confidence now. "I mean, you're manipulating physical objects to fight for you. Extension of the body through chakra strings. That's basically what Dad said earlier!"

He began to move, and the petals moved with him. Not perfectly, his control was still developing, but the intent was clear. Suisen directed them through the air in sweeping patterns, practicing strikes and defensive formations.

A trio of petals swept forward in a cutting arc as another cluster formed a protective barrier. The remaining petals orbited around him like a deadly constellation.

"See? This is what I've been working on!" The excitement in his voice was genuine now, not forced. "The tonfa was good for proving I could use any tool as a weapob, but this is what I'm actually training to master. Weaponizing chakra constructs through puppet techniques!"

He executed a more complex D-Rank maneuvers, sending petals forward in a spiraling attack pattern, then recalling them to defensive positions around his body. His movements were getting smoother, more confident.

"Practice makes progress, right? So let me practice with what's actually gonna be my weapon!"

For the first time since entering the dojo, Suisen wasn't trying to be the loudest or the funniest or the most attention-grabbing. He was just... showing what he could do. What he'd been working on alone for months. What made him a Chikamatsu, even if he wasn't the daughter his father had lost.

The flower petals danced through the air, deadly and beautiful, an extension of his will through threads of chakra.

Maybe this would finally make his dad look at him like he mattered.

 

[Sabishii]

The dark circles around the eyes of Sabishii were evident... his body was growing even more tired with the amount of interaction he was having with the class today. Though, he felt that this would be the amount he would need especially with the students that were showing themselves these days. The pursuit of greatness would not be something Sabishii would neglect, he just had a different goal with the very word greatness. At any pace, Shin and Kyuji noticed that he was trying this time. He was still in the position with the polearm in his imaginary opponents neck, so he would drop his shoulders and look to them both before huffing. His eyes scanned the room again, Goro... a strong boy. However, was he much stronger than he? Sabishii would shake his head at the thought. He would be able to decimate the boy if he needed to... at least right now.

Yuka was his friend and he respected her strength, and he knew she was going to be a very strong ally or adversary one day. More than likely she would be an ally to him, with the darkness looming in her heart. He could feel it. Her soft features were hiding a darkness within... the same as Sabishii. A Simple nod to Yuka, closing his own eyes moments later and Sabishii would get back into his own focus. They were pushing him but they didnt know... he was already pressing forward. The veil would have to take him personally... because his time was not coming anytime soon.

Raising his weapon, he would twirl it to his left, the weapon dipping the bladed side down before arcing upwards in quick succession, then he'd step forward flipoing the handle in his hands before moving the bladed edge to his right then forcing it upwards and up as if slamming the blunt edge to the surface of his opponents head. Even if it were imaginary. 'Faster.' he would continue twirling from left to right picking up speed as his grip would feel stronger and the muscle memory would begin to come intact. Finishing he would wave the blade around in a small circle over his head before bringing it downwards unto his imaginary opponent's head with the bladed side down... cutting through the ghost that would form infront of him.

"...Good?", looking to Yuka first then to Shin without acknowledging Kyuji.

[WC =1000+/1000]
[Post 4/5]

 

[Hokkyoku Yuka]

The phantom heat vanished as quickly as it had arrived, leaving only the ghost of a sting in Yuka’s palms. She didn't sigh with relief like the others. She didn't shake her hands out to rid herself of the sensation. Instead, she stared at her own skin, her amber eyes narrowing into slits. It was a trick. A lesson. But to Yuka, pain was not a teacher; it was a debt to be repaid.

She felt the sharp thwack of Kyuji’s finger against her forehead before she truly processed the woman’s scolding. Struck by a teacher, she thought, the humiliation cold and heavy in her stomach. Her hand drifted up to touch the spot, her expression remaining eerily flat, though her inner thoughts were a swirling sandstorm of indignation. 'You touch me as if I am a child who spilled water. I struck to kill. You should have struck back with steel, not a finger.'

"I understand, Sensei," she lied, her voice soft and airy, barely carrying over the sound of the other students. She did not apologize. There was nothing to apologize for. The desert did not apologize for the sun blistering the skin of the unprepared.

She turned her gaze to Shin as he spoke of "imprecise" techniques and "questionable" targets. He smiled. He spoke of resolve. Yuka looked down at the wooden kunai she still gripped—the tool that had betrayed her, the wood that had burned her at his command.

With a sudden, dismissive motion, she opened her hand.

Clatter.

The wooden kunai hit the floorboards, rolling away until it bumped against the table leg. She did not retrieve it.

"The wood is weak," she murmured, low enough that perhaps only those closest could hear. "It burns. It breaks. It lies." She held up her empty hands, flexing her small, calloused fingers. Her bloodline—the Sunaku—flowed beneath that skin. Her hands could crush rock. Why would she trust a piece of dead tree over her own flesh?

A loud, grating noise cut through her focus. She turned her head slowly, like a lizard tracking a fly. It was the blonde boy, the Kazekage's son, Suisen. He was shouting about "challenge modes" and "crushing it," spinning a tonfa like a toy while flowery petals danced around him. He was so... bright. It made Yuka’s eyes ache. She leveled a withering, dead-eyed glare at him, watching his frantic energy with pure disdain. 'He creates noise to hide his softness,' she decided. 'In the open sands, something would have eaten him by now.'

Her gaze slid past him to Goro. The six-armed boy was weaving silk, making a weapon of his own. Clever, perhaps, but the sight of those extra limbs twitching and working caused a ripple of genuine revulsion to crawl up her spine. It was unnatural. It was a mutation that belonged deep underground, buried where the sun couldn't see it. She took a subtle half-step away, ensuring there was plenty of air between her and the "spider-creature."

Finally, her eyes found the only thing in the room that made sense. Sabishii.

He had failed his display, dropped his weapon, and sat down. But then he had looked at her. "...Good?" he had asked.

Yuka walked over to him, stepping over the discarded training weapons on the floor. She stopped in front of him, ignoring the fact that he was sitting in defeat. To her, his defeat didn't matter. The ghosts mattered. The darkness mattered.

"The spin was slow," she said quietly, her voice losing its polite mask and becoming frank, clinical. "But the intent..." Her eyes flicked to the empty air beside him, where she could see the faint shimmer of his spectral entourage. She leaned in slightly, whispering so the loud blonde wouldn't hear.

"The dead were watching, Sabishii. They liked the cut."

She straightened up, turning her back to the rest of the class, raising her empty hands into a basic, fluid taijutsu stance. She would not pick up the wood again. She would show the Kazekage that she didn't need his burning toys to make something bleed.


[MFT]
WC: 1,000+/1000
PC: 4/5

 

[Kyouketsu Shinda]

Shinda didn’t react immediately when Shin’s gaze settled on him, his mind having been focused on his task. He stood where he was, feet planted, the wooden weapon still held in his grip going through the same thrusting movement. The burning illusion had begun to fade, but he hadn’t loosened his hands when the pain lessened. He had become almost absent minded, after having gone through the mental trauma he had worked through. Tears still fell along paths down his face, though his expression itself was as calm as ever. He wasn't tense with his movement, just seemed to have become settled. The genjutsu had forced him to use pain as fuel rather than treating it as an obstacle. Even though the pain was subsiding, the words lingered in his mind.

His eyes drifted briefly toward the training floor instead of toward the instructor as Shin's words started to filter into his mind. He watched a single petal from the wilting flowers fall and land near his foot. This would be the only moment where his body stopped complete motion, while his breathing began to settle. Seeing the wilting that the petal progressed through, his thoughts became that of funeral smoke, incense, and of hands that would never move again. He would unconsciously grip the weapon tightener in quiet acknowledgment.

When Shin gave the order to begin drills, Shinda exhaled like someone waking from a long, heavy thought. The last of the phantom burning vanished from his nerves, but he couldn't shake out that feeling in his hands the way some of the others would be able to. For him the pain lingered, his nerves having registered the feeling and tied it to his senses in the same way that funerary smoke and incense had. Shinda hands continued to feel heat, a slight discomfort in his palms that would remain a dull reminder. He felt a tear land on his skin, and reality seemed to flood back to him.

He stepped into position after shaking his head slightly, grounding himself back into the task at hand. Shinda's posture became relaxed in a stance, like someone who looked more suited to leaning against a wall than standing at attention. Yet the moment he began the drill, the relaxed nature disappeared from his movements. Each thrust was controlled and measured, his movements precise and calculated. There would be no flare or flash in his routine...just basic effectiveness.

He wasn’t trying to prove anything to Shin or Kyuji. He wasn’t thinking about rank or mastery or even progress. His focus stayed quiet and inward, anchored in practiced rhythm with his steps. To Shinda, that was what survival looked like.

Again.

And again.

And again.
[WC: 451]
[Post 4 of 5: 1000+ wc / 1000 wc]

 

[Kōsa Harikēn]

"Uzumoreru Kōsa Harikēn. Your breathing technique suggests mental discipline. Good. Though perhaps save the aerial maneuvers until your grip is more certain." Hariken would give the Kazekage a nod of acknowledgement as he gaze locked onto his own two hands clenching and unclenching his hands into fists, trying to get a feel of how hard he would need to grip. His eyes wandered around, flower petals scattered and wilting, showing the progression of the natural life cycle on the living being. This illusionary ability piqued the young Uzumoreru, he felt his hands weaving seals of a technique he'd be practicing. It was a basically illusionary sleight of hands, but one that would allow him to potentially Mimic this unique ability. Hariken steadied his breathing, and focused on his intent and objective. His mind driven towards the goal of never being in the same position he was in when he awakened the Jōmyaku. Ideas to Reality, Concepts born Anew; Awaken to a path of new beginnings. His eyes locked with the Kazekage with sheer intent, not one to inflict harm, but mimic and mirror, to learn the inner intricacies of the illusionary arts. The barrier around the Kazekage's mind was surely a mental fortress, but if he could just sneak a single glimpse, see just a fraction of its inner powers, Hariken was sure there in lied the information he sought. Hariken could hear sounds that could be words, but his mind was in a state of Trance and Inner Tranquility, driven by intent and desire to learn from some clearly superior. Though what he would find or lack there of, would yet to be determined. His time attempting to delve into his mind would feel like an eternity to Hariken, but in reality only a few mere moments had passed; as his senses came back into clearer focus, he heard the instruction to continue with their drills. Though he would continue, it wouldn't be before pulling out a notebook from his bag, and quickly jotting down his Theory Craft, and began attempting to create a rough sketch of a new Arcane Design. Hariken didn't care if anyone saw what he was writing, it would most likely make little sense to someone who didn't know what they were looking for.. The two tonfa laid at his feet, they held little interest to him, but as per the class he must pick them back up and continue with these drills. The smooth wood was slightly familiar at this point, but Hariken had little interest in twirling and striking nothing with a pair of sticks. What was that technique..... Kazekage-sama.... This question would resonate in the young shinobi's head for pretty much the remainder of the class. [WC: 454] [TWC: 1000+/1000] [MFT]

 

[Chikamatsu Shin]

"Adequate," Shin observed, his voice cutting through the din of practice. He moved through the sparring room with measured steps, pale blue eyes tracking each student's progress.

He stopped beside Goro first, watching the six-armed boy's experimental strikes. Without a word, Shin's hand reached out—gentle but deliberate—guiding an elbow here, adjusting a wrist there. His touch was clinical, corrective, helping the Tsuchigumo find a more steady and even flow to his movements.

"You have natural advantage in numbers," Shin said quietly, "but coordination must match ambition. I specialize in unarmed Taijutsu as well. The key is not just striking with six limbs, it's creating a rhythm where each strike flows into the next. Practice the fundamentals first. Speed comes with mastery, not before it."

He released Goro's arm and continued his circuit.

When he reached Suisen, surrounded by those beautiful, deadly flower petals dancing on chakra strings, Shin paused. The faintest hint of acknowledgment touched his expression.

"Thank you for finally taking this class seriously," he said simply. "Using your preferred Taijutsu shows maturity. Continue."

That was all. No praise, no critique, just acknowledgment that Suisen was now actually trying.

Sabishii received more attention. Shin observed the polearm work, noting the precision of the strikes despite the obvious inexperience.

"You have a keen eye for precision," Shin remarked. "Consider supplementing your training with poison craft. The Chikamatsu archives are available to academy students. A blade that cuts is dangerous. A blade that cuts and delivers neurotoxin is lethal. Your accuracy would serve such techniques well."

To Yuka, who had discarded her wooden kunai in favor of her bare hands, Shin offered only a simple nod of approval. She understood what many took years to learn, her body was her finest weapon.

Shinda's tears and mechanical repetition drew Shin's longest pause.

"Shinda," he said carefully, "breathe. You need to strengthen your mental resolve. A basic Genjutsu should not impact you this severely."

The Kazekage's tone softened slightly, though his expression remained composed.

"Meet me at the Omni Prime Medical Facility tomorrow. We'll conduct a proper mental health evaluation. There is no shame in addressing psychological vulnerabilities, ignoring them, however, will get you and your teammates killed."

Then Shin felt it.

The subtle probe. The attempt to peer into his mind, to steal the secrets of his technique.

His pale blue eyes shifted to Hariken, and something cold flickered behind them.

The world around the young Uzumoreru began to darken. Shadows crawled across the walls like living things. The air grew thick, suffocating, wrong. Shin didn't move. Didn't speak. He simply... looked.

And in that look, Hariken would feel his own blood turn to ice. His heart would pound with primal terror, not because he saw something frightening, but because his body's chemistry had been hijacked. Every cell screamed danger. Every nerve fired panic. His own biology betrayed him. Shin layered his Hemotoxic Terror with his ability to manipulate Venomous Coils in the child.

`Do not pry into forbidden places,` the silence seemed to whisper from behind Hariken's shoulder. `You do not know the agony required to master such arts. You do not understand the price.`

Just as quickly as it came, the terror vanished. Shin's expression remained neutral, but the message was clear.

Then, faint golden cracks began to appear across Shin's skin, glowing fractures like pottery repaired with precious metal. Chakra burn scars, slowly manifesting as the forbidden technique's cost made itself known. He had pushed too hard before fully recovering after the attacks on Sunagakure.

Shin clasped his hands behind his back, turning toward Kyuji.

"I'm heading out," he said simply, the golden cracks still spreading slowly across his forearms and up his neck. "Kyuji-sensei will continue your instruction."

Without waiting for acknowledgment, the Twelfth Kazekage walked toward the exit, his movements still composed despite the visible evidence of his body's rebellion against the power he'd wielded.

The flowers he'd summoned wilted completely as he left, their petals turning to ash.

[5/5]
[1000+/1000]
[Topic Left]

 

[Kyuji]

I would watch each one of them as they continued to practice their techniques and skills of their choice. They were all taking the last few moments of the class to demonstrate what they all felt was their strong suits or possibly what they felt was best to show Shin and I. Before I could make any comment towards the students, Shin would speak to them again addressing each of them that he approached with a short, but to the point comment. After he finished his comments to them, he would head out and put me in charge of them - my luck was not good today as I had came to watch, was then involved by Shin and then left with all of them. Yippee!

I would not allow the slight annoyance to show on my face however as that would not benefit any of them nor myself in the long haul. No, they needed guidance at their age and to be able to turn to their elders if they needed help. I would nod at all of them and clap my hands together before addressing them. "Each one of you took a step towards becoming a shinobi today after Shin and my guidance. While you are all young and inexperienced, you will take this lesson and future ones to heart as they guide you down the path that you wish to be in this village. Some of you may decide to not become shinobi which is fine. Some of you may decide to graduate and be the main military force of the village. Others may decide to specialize under the ANBU or Medics in the village. Every role in this village is vital to the success of our home and country." I would explain to them. They probably heard a lot of this before from their parents or other adults, but it was important to reinforce the point to them.

I would then look at each one of them - one at a time - before nodding again. "I shall not keep you all as you have a lot to digest from this lesson today. Class is dismissed!" A smile on my face and I would move away from my spot to allow them to leave as I was stationed in the back - the entrance of these sacred training grounds. I would clean up their mess after they left (if they did not clean up after themselves) and then I would take my leave as well.

---

OOC:

• WC: 3065/1000
• PC: 4/5

 

[Goro]

Goro stood frozen for a moment after the Kazekage’s hand left his arm. The touch had been clinical, but the correction was exactly what his frantic and unguided movements needed. He watched Shin walk away, noting the golden cracks spreading across the man’s skin like a shattering vase. Goro didn't understand the cost of such power, but he understood the weight of it.

Coordination must match ambition.

Goro took a deep breath, the scent of the dojo filling his lungs. He turned back to the training dummy, a sturdy wooden post wrapped in thick rope. He didn't rush this time. He tucked his four extra arms tight against his back, bringing only his primary hands up. He started with the basics, just as Shin had instructed.

Jab, cross, reset.

He repeated the motion fifty times until the rhythm was steady. Then, he unfurled his middle pair of arms. He tried to slot their movements into the gaps of the first two. Jab, jab, cross, hook. It was a slow and deliberate dance. He focused on the flow Shin mentioned, trying to ensure that as one arm retracted, the next was already halfway to its destination. He wasn't a whirlwind yet; he was a machine finding its gears. His red eyes remained fixed on the center of the dummy, tracking the imaginary lines of force he was creating.

Suddenly, Goro shifted his weight. As his primary right hand delivered a straight punch, his lower left palm snapped open. With a sharp exhale, he spat a glob of adhesive silk directly at the dummy’s shoulder. The web hit with a wet slap and stuck firmly. Goro didn't stop. He used the imaginary opening to step into the dummy’s guard. While his primary hands were busy with a high cover, his middle arms lashed out to grab the stuck webbing. He pulled himself forward and used the silk as a tether to add momentum to a devastating knee strike from his lower half.

He began to mix it all together. A jab from the top left, a straight from the top right, and then a twin blast of silk from his middle palms to pin the dummy's phantom arms. With the target immobilized, his lower arms, previously tucked away, unfolded like a trap. They delivered a rhythmic barrage of open-palm strikes to the dummy’s midsection. He was sweating now, his silver hair sticking to his forehead. He wasn't just throwing limbs at a problem anymore. He was building a web of strikes. Each hit was a strand, and each strand led to the next. He imagined a foe struggling against the silk, their movements slowed and their guard failing as six different fists found six different openings.

Goro slowed down, his six arms trembling slightly from the exertion. He looked at the dummy, now crisscrossed with white silk and scuffed from his strikes. He thought back to Shin's golden cracks. The Kazekage was a master who still paid a price for his power. Goro, a student with nothing but his hands and his heritage, realized that mastery would not come from a single afternoon of effort. He wiped his face with one of his middle sleeves and reset his stance. He had a long shift ahead of him, and he wasn't ready to clock out.

WC: 1000/1000
OOC: Leaving Topic... after I do 1000 strikes

 

[Kōsa Harikēn]

Paralysis. His body failed to move, he pushed and pushed, yet his muscles failed him. His vision blurred into a empty abyss, he was just floating in an aetheric void. The only being in his vision was Shin; his words boomed and echoed, like a Soothsayer of old; heeding a warning for the pursuit of knowledge that one was no ready for.

`Do not pry into forbidden places,` the silence seemed to whisper from behind Hariken's shoulder. `You do not know the agony required to master such arts. You do not understand the price.`

Hariken could feel his coils twist and convulse, expending chakra that he had no intention of spending himself. The shock, the hemotoxic terrorism and paralytic, venomous coils recoiled and rocked his body, This darkness, this shadowy twilight, shrouded in a masquerade of chaotic forces...

For Hariken, it would feel like and eternity drifting through the void; a clap rung out, light coming back to his vision, the Dojo regaining structure.

Sunken illusions, and masterful depths. These were the intricacies that interested him the most from Chikamatsu Shin; his ability and mastery for illusionary arts, though it lacks the fundamental, inert, elemental ties, that he desperately wanted to weave in together with these tricks, and smokes and mirrors. He wants to have Thoughts Given Form, and Bend Reality.

He would gain a disinterest in the tonfas, still maintaining the structure of the drills, but his mind clearly not in the heart of it. His mind

I will learn whatever I can Kazekage-san... One way or another.

[WC: 262]
[TWC: 1000+/1000]
[Topic Left]

 

[Hokkyoku Yuka]

Yuka watched as Shin comforted the other boy, who was crying. She then looked at Sabishii. They had drills to do, it seemed.

"Stand up and do the drills, you won't get stronger by sitting," She mumbled to him. She then took a stance. She wanted to learn more ninjutsu, learn how to control the sand. However, her small body wasn't strong enough to do what she wanted - yet. Ranks here mattered not, not to the sand, not to her. She was here to become stronger, nothing more. Sabishii, she knew, would be strong one day too.

Yuka started to punch the air, unimpressively, but she did it until she felt a burn in her arms. Then she kept going. The sting felt good; she was learning. But at a certain point, she had to stop. She stopped when she felt it was good enough.

"I'm done," Yuka said, then turned and left the classroom. She didn't look back; her tone was final.

[Topic left]

 

[Sand Council]

Congrats! You’ve completed a Class!

Be prepared to receive rewards! The following has been granted:

• A +1x Modifier to your training! Remember! You have 7 Days from this post to claim these rewards!
• The Teacher gains +2000 Yen for each person they taught! Get them gains!

Things to note:

• If you have taught the class and have a Student in the class via a Sub-Account, you cannot gain rewards for either.
• If you have two sub-accounts being taught by another PC, you must choose which one gains the rewards.

 

[Kyouketsu Shinda]

Shinda didn’t answer when his name was called, but kept moving.

The weapon rose and shifted in his hands with the same rhythm he’d been holding for several minutes. It was motions drilled over and over while tears kept sliding down his face. He didn’t seem to notice them as they ran along his jaw, dripping from his chin into the ground in small scattered spots. His eyes stayed forward, but they looked distant, like he was somewhere else entirely.

When Shin told him to breathe, there was only a small change as his stance softened just a little. His chest rose a little deeper on the next inhale while the stiffness in his shoulders eased enough that his movements stopped looking forced. The weapon still moved in the same pattern, but now it felt steadier.

He never spoke but the mention of meeting at the medical facility, caused his hands to finally be stilled. The wooden weapon lowered to his side, and he stood there for a quiet moment. He gave a small nod and a few seconds later, went right back into the drill. The tears didn’t stop, but they didn’t interrupt him either, like something he had gotten used to carrying. His drill slowed gradually rather than ending all at once. His hands loosened their grip until it finally rested at his side. He stood there for a moment, shoulders rising and falling in slow, steady breaths.

The moment the dismissal was given, Shinda walked toward the exit. As he passed the table of training weapons, he placed the wooden sword down. At the doorway, he paused briefly and stood there for just a second. The tears had stopped at some point but he hadn’t noticed when. Then he stepped out, leaving the training room behind with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

[WC: 307]
[Post 5 of 5: 1000+ wc / 1000 wc]
[Topic Left]