”…”
What a strange place to meet up with Ibaraki. It wasn’t exactly fishy or questionable, but Take was under the impression that he was going to train his swordsmanship on a broader area… there wasn’t a lot of maneuverability atop the Hokage Rock – especially not with all the tourists passing by. However, not having visited this hotspot in a while, Take took in the grand view of his home village Konoha and breathed in… it was a very good day, indeed.
He still saw the image of his mother’s flabbergasted grimace at his previous spar with his father. His father usually only needed one hand to subdue the still Genin, but ever since he began training under Ibaraki, his father had felt more and more pushed and at edge against his son in combat. Take thought that it was purely the results of efficient time spent practicing his arts with Ibaraki, but his father saw that Take had grown more… say, unhinged in combat.
More or less, Take had begun to space out in his strikes. It was written all over his face that he wasn’t exactly ‘there’, and at the same time, his focus was sharpened like a knife against a grindstone. He was starting to enter a field of combat where his movements became unpredictable, but he had yet to truly best his father in his spars. And yet… for the first time in a long while, possibly ever since he was born, Take felt that eyes of approval rested on him. He was no longer the awkward kid who broke his parents’ expectations of his future as a shinobi, and it was all thanks to Ibaraki. If you were to ask Take about it, then he’d argue that he owed all of his achievements to Ibaraki, the one who didn’t see an inconvenient disgrace, but who saw an unpolished diamond…
WC: 314 [MFT]
What a strange place to meet up with Ibaraki. It wasn’t exactly fishy or questionable, but Take was under the impression that he was going to train his swordsmanship on a broader area… there wasn’t a lot of maneuverability atop the Hokage Rock – especially not with all the tourists passing by. However, not having visited this hotspot in a while, Take took in the grand view of his home village Konoha and breathed in… it was a very good day, indeed.
He still saw the image of his mother’s flabbergasted grimace at his previous spar with his father. His father usually only needed one hand to subdue the still Genin, but ever since he began training under Ibaraki, his father had felt more and more pushed and at edge against his son in combat. Take thought that it was purely the results of efficient time spent practicing his arts with Ibaraki, but his father saw that Take had grown more… say, unhinged in combat.
More or less, Take had begun to space out in his strikes. It was written all over his face that he wasn’t exactly ‘there’, and at the same time, his focus was sharpened like a knife against a grindstone. He was starting to enter a field of combat where his movements became unpredictable, but he had yet to truly best his father in his spars. And yet… for the first time in a long while, possibly ever since he was born, Take felt that eyes of approval rested on him. He was no longer the awkward kid who broke his parents’ expectations of his future as a shinobi, and it was all thanks to Ibaraki. If you were to ask Take about it, then he’d argue that he owed all of his achievements to Ibaraki, the one who didn’t see an inconvenient disgrace, but who saw an unpolished diamond…
WC: 314 [MFT]