The humidity was thick in the air. It dewed into small beads on the grass on the Obstacle Course. Wooden posts formed a small obstacle course here. The crucible was a maze of ropes, stakes, and ramparts to scale over. It was really basic as far as Shinobi work went - but when it came to the Academy, this is where it all started. Her time at the academy would soon be coming to a close.
But who was she? There was a girl, somewhat lanky and somewhat androgynous at this age, but she was tall with just the subtlest hints of blossoming womanhood on her chest. Her metabolism could hardly keep up with her size, and so she wore tight fitting clothing is only because it was difficult to find clothing that not only fit her, but that she could afford. It was mostly hand-me downs from her brother. A gray top that was more fitting on the field of a farmer and a pair of pants that were worn, torn, and faded. This was her. Even her gear looked old and worn, and truth be told - it was. The Kunai in her hands was nicked and rusted as were the shuriken in her shuriken holster. Yet there she was.
That was her. Watanabe Ai. Skin kissed by the sun, and academy student of the village hidden in the clouds. Sweat dripped down her face. She spun the kunai by its ring around her finger. And began to tackle the next part of the course. The rampart was a wall of wood. It was sheer and there was no holds. She took a running jump and the soles of her feet pressed against the wood and pushed her further. She tried to pretend Gravity had no sway over her, but it lasted only a moment more before she began to fall back down to the ground. The Kunai dug into the wood and she pulled herself up higher briefly - only the kunai snapped.
The rust and damage it had suffered had weakened it to the point where it could no longer support her. Her fingers dug at the wood but it was slick. Thump! She was on her back gasping for air. Maybe she wasn’t as ready for the genin exam as she thought.
But who was she? There was a girl, somewhat lanky and somewhat androgynous at this age, but she was tall with just the subtlest hints of blossoming womanhood on her chest. Her metabolism could hardly keep up with her size, and so she wore tight fitting clothing is only because it was difficult to find clothing that not only fit her, but that she could afford. It was mostly hand-me downs from her brother. A gray top that was more fitting on the field of a farmer and a pair of pants that were worn, torn, and faded. This was her. Even her gear looked old and worn, and truth be told - it was. The Kunai in her hands was nicked and rusted as were the shuriken in her shuriken holster. Yet there she was.
That was her. Watanabe Ai. Skin kissed by the sun, and academy student of the village hidden in the clouds. Sweat dripped down her face. She spun the kunai by its ring around her finger. And began to tackle the next part of the course. The rampart was a wall of wood. It was sheer and there was no holds. She took a running jump and the soles of her feet pressed against the wood and pushed her further. She tried to pretend Gravity had no sway over her, but it lasted only a moment more before she began to fall back down to the ground. The Kunai dug into the wood and she pulled herself up higher briefly - only the kunai snapped.
The rust and damage it had suffered had weakened it to the point where it could no longer support her. Her fingers dug at the wood but it was slick. Thump! She was on her back gasping for air. Maybe she wasn’t as ready for the genin exam as she thought.