Bleeding Hearts and Broken Dreams

[seiuchiblarg]

Drip, drip, drip. Every footprint fell silent. Every breath, shuttering and ragged, had held itself in. The silent way her tears fell to the ground after journeying down her face, streaking through the dirt and grime that covered it, and giving her a rough appearance to shelter the gentle soul beneath, was an agony of drums in his ear, a symphony of tuneless bass waves crashing over him. The sound was nonexistent, but more torturous to the brother walking out on this poor girl than anything else he thought he could experience. He didn’t want to leave, she knew: Aiko didn’t want it either, and she cried as the boy took his first steps out of her life. She was only four then, and Katsuo seven. Nevertheless, he walked alone. It was a journey two and a half days long for civilians such as Katsuo to get to Kumogakure, and the daytime would be spent in stoic silence as he walked. Nights were going to be colder, lonelier, and the child would cry for the effective loss of his family, wishing he could just come home. Nevertheless, he pressed onwards, knowing the goal for which he fought to be an honest one.

The little boy balled his hands into fists as he continued walking, hating the sound of his sister’s quiet crying breaths. He knew, somehow, every unseen tear that fell to the ground, the saline from her eyes clearing away yet another streak of grime from her face, as a bulldozer before the rain forests. He shook unconsciously as he moved ever forward, wishing he could go back for just one more moment, to tell his sister he loved her, to give her one last hug. He wanted to tell his older brother to be strong, that soon he’d be the man of the house, and Katsuo would come back to check on him (and, if Chishiomaru wasn’t doing a satisfactory job, katsuo could’ve joked, he’d knock some sense into him with his newly found shinobi skills). He wanted to tell his dad to be strong, to lie to him and tell him mom would be all right, and he wanted to let his mother know she’d be in his prayers. He wished he could tell them just once more that there would not be a day in his life to go by in which he did not think of them, but they already knew it, just as well as he. As well, he knew that now, If he turned back, he would not turn forward again. And so he pressed on.

They knew what he wanted to say, every last one of them, and everyone knew why he did not. If he came back, if he looked back to his home, the village he loved, the family he had relied on until now... if he even thought about them too much, he would give up before his journey had ever the change to begin. He couldn’t have that. He could be his family’s last chance at strength, at honor, at dignity. And for that, he could fight. As he tried to block out thoughts of his loving family, wipe away the nostalgic feeling of how he and his sister played here, only the day before, or how that spot was special because his brother had his first kiss there, how mom and dad got married under that tree, a tear escaped from his own eye. This was but a tiny amount of release from the pressure that built up deep inside of him, and from that, there was no more. For his family, for himself, and for his new village... all of this, all for his honor, he would be strong. He had to be.

Thunder crashed in his ears as he took the last left, leaving the official claim of territory his small village had. Every tear that fell was not the thunder Katsuo wished it to be, striking once and leaving at the speed of sound, gone for ever as it played tag with the painful lightning that always seemed to elude it. It was not a roaring drumbeat in his ear, rocking his eardrums and shattering his senses as the players tried to catch their next note. Every one drop, every tear that fell, was a roar, a smothered cry from a tortured devil begging to be released, for a chance to kill. These cries, these horrible screams of dead and dying, of a past abandoned and future feared, were muffled tremendously by the gates of the village he had called home for seven years now, blocking away an outer hell from which Katsuo had no escape. Every tear that had fallen was a scream of tortured pain from the demons within begging to get out, and as Katsuo stepped through the boundary of his small hometown, the demon’s were released on him, their raucous roars reaching to rend his ears raw. In their silence, they were deafening, overwhelming. Every tear his sister cried burned holes through his mind as acid through his screaming flesh.
　
It all ended with one last thunderous roar. Eyelids fluttered open, letting light stream through to where before only the opaque blockage of eyelids in front of Katsuo’s well-trained eyes could be seen. Katsuo winced as a light was turned on. No, not a light: the sun. He looked to his left to find that somehow, his curtains had fallen from his window, and the sun streaming in was a rude awakening from a ruder dream. That was seven years ago.

Aiko… She would be ten soon, he knew. Her birthday wasn’t for another few months, towards the end of the year. Katsuo hadn’t been back even once, hadn’t kept the promise he made to his brother to check in on him, hadn’t sent the letters he promised. He tried day in and day out to fight away the memories of his family, and forget who he was, where he came from. He could not. He was not ashamed of them, not embarrassed to call them family; in fact, he loved each and every one more than he could say. He tried to forget them because, though they were his driving factor, though they were the reason he fought and trained as hard as he did, they were his greatest pain. He missed them all dearly. If he came back, he wouldn’t be able to return to Kumo. He wouldn’t bring himself to do it, after seeing them all again. He wondered how tall Aiko was, how much she had grown. He wondered where his mother was buried, how his father was holding up. Chishiomaru... he would probably be the head of the household now. Katsuo knew they were in good hands: he was a good man, even if he did have a certain weakness (which was not to be called uncommon among the boys of the Minamine clan) around pretty girls.

None of it matters, he had to remind himself, I can’t go back yet. Some day, when I’m strong enough to go back and bring myself to return here... but not now. It was then that he stood, suppressing a yawn but not the need to stretch before he showered and clothed, began his day as usual.

Katsuo would not waste time today.

Katsuo was a genin then, in those days. Things had changed so much, so many things had happened... Before the mirror stood an older man. Not a man as blindly loyal to the family he'd had, but a man jaded, and a man withered. His work was hard, his perils great, but now, Katsuo fought for himself, and the family he had started.

And that could be enough for him.

[seiuchiblarg]

(Katsuo Training #5: Taijutsu. 2,429/2,400)

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Trees lay gashed open behind and beside. Stone and rubble broke free beneath his heavy feet, but no birds lived in an area so high as this, none would need to flee from the scarring force of his whips, the heavy foot falls of a jounin in training. No wings would take to the sky, but many trees would take to the ground. It had fallen to Katsuo to gather the lumber for a festival in Kumogakure, and Katsuo thought it a fantastic opportunity to train. Choosing a high altitude area, and using his jutsu to give him more body to manage, Katsuo felt this would be a perfect chance to get stronger as a shinobi. Not only would his muscles get a work out they’d been needing for a while, but he’d be able to take his own body to new heights as well! An awesome opportunity to anyone.

And so, he used his jutsu, changing his body into something strange and monstrous and foreign, far more difficult to control than his normal physical affair. Webbed hands and feet. Six extra limbs. Monstrous height, incredible additional weight, his entire body seeming odd and out of focused. In his six arms – four of which were only newly created from his jutsu – he held a set of six whips. With one in each hand, Katsuo rocketed down one of the mountainsides of Rai no Kuni, slashing at trees as he went with those whips. He was well beyond his normal speed, having left his training armor at home and now accelerated further by the muscle mass he’d packed on to his extra legs. The additional limbs in themselves were a fascinating test to manage all alone, but when one took into account that every joint in them was hyper flexible, he was moving at beyond his normal top speed, and he was trying to be accurate with six weapons at once with every step he took and slash he made, one could see easily how this could be a challenge to even Minamine Katsuo, the Bleeding Heart of Kumogakure no Sato.

Lashes and cracks could be heard echoing for probably the better part of a mile all around him as katsuo worked, furious and fervent. So quickly moving was he that it likely sounded more like a long screech than a series of snaps and slashes from his whips. Whatever it was, it was met by a symphony of snapping wood, a cacophony of cracking lumber. Not every hit connected – in fact, more missed than hit (which is likely why the whips were snapping in the air instead of cleanly cutting through the trees,) which enraged Katsuo – but he was learning more and more about moving at this high speed as he went.

He lowered his head and picked up the pace. It took intense concentration on everything around him – the ground before him to make sure he didn’t fall, the loose stone beneath to keep it in tact. He watched the steep slope as it unfolded before him and opened up into a lumbering height that offered nothing but a quick death to him should he fall into its widely opened arms. Vertigo was an old friend to Katsuo, who like his comrades had been living in the mountains for decades, but it still posed a threat and a challenge as he fought against it, controlling his body and his reeling mind while he did his busying work. He had to watch each whip and look for every tree that was a potential target. He had to keep a constant alert on all four legs, all six arms, watching everything he could, keeping an vigilance that was nothing short of omnipresent inside of his own personal bubble – which was moving rather fast in itself, creating new challenges to Katsuo with every step of the way and offering a new way to slip and fall and die, a new obstacle to offer a broken leg, or maybe even a new stone that looked like such a likely place for a respite. He declined every offer, however generously or slyly made, and continued making his way down, boots slamming hard down on the stone as he emerged from the cloud bodies that hid his beloved village.

Just a bit more, and his First trek down was complete. Then it was a run up the mountain which was by comparison leisurely, gathering up the limbs and branches he’d severed from the trees (the trees themselves were too thick to slice with his whips, he found rather quickly, and so he instead targeted the limbs hanging over and around him.) With a rope provided from the village, he bundled them up in to three large piles, guessing that each weighed about a couple of hundred pounds or so easily. Then it was a short walk further down the tree line – some ten or maybe even twenty meters – before he would start again.

Hand seals six times, with the help of a seventh hand he’d created on his chest at the start of it all, and the whips appeared again. Liquid malice in his hands, Katsuo lowered his head, not giving himself a moment to soothe his aching muscles, and took off again, throwing himself ever so willingly into an equally, arduously exhausting second round. His arms lashed out, wrapping around some branches to pull them away, lashing into others to snap and sever them. Birds fled from their homes in the wood long forgotten by most of the Land of Lightning, abandoning nests to form new ones in an area downwind, hopefully one safer from the ravages of the blue blood and his vicious whips. They cried out, further breaking the shattered silence creating by Kumogakure no sato’s Bleeding Heart as he literally whipped his way through the forest, cutting a new path for himself with body and blood and speed and sweat. Minutes ticked by as he worked down the steep slope, focusing his efforts into his musculature, trying harder than he thought he’d need to in order to stay upright while moving at such impressive speeds. His arms worked furiously in front of them, and it took additional concentration to keep each one of them in check.

Balance and whip work and using six arms and four legs at once… so much additional musculature to be aware of…. There was so much to focus on, to pay attention to, and all while moving at such high speeds! It was almost beyond him…. Almost. He bolted through the clouds, the trees slid by at his sides while all six of his liquid weapons sliced through them with forceful, raucous cracks and snaps. Still more birds flapped away, one or two even rushing at him, only to be dismissed withaa quick snap of one of his many whips. He had to admire the creatures for their willingness to rise to a greater foe in defense if their territory… it reminded him of himself. Of his comrades. Made him appreciate his home.

Crack! And then the whips sliced through more branches, and the sound of lumber falling to the ground echoed behind him. Katsuo was back in reality, and his wicked weapons were wailing away once more. As he traveled, he became aware of the scents around him, of the moisture in the air, the thickness of the clouds that surrounded him, the thin oxygen on which he relied, to which he had grown accustomed. He took it all in and registered it quickly, noting that the smell of home and hearth was growing stronger. It wouldn’t be very long at all now until he was finished with this batch. Then, he’d do the same thing over again, gathering up the lumber he’d cut. But first came the finishing. The path would not cut itself… Katsuo would have to do that dirty work for it.

Crack! Crack! Crack! The sounds of whipping intensified, his foot falls hitting the ground faster, at better and better a pace as he pushed himself ever forwards, aiming to cut as much as he could while moving as quickly as he could. He found himself wondering what these whips could do with human flesh if he handled them six at a time like this…. It would be a vicious combat strategy, and not one he’d ever thought to use before. Certainly such a vicious style of fighting made for a fascinating endeavor and was at the very least worth a shot. Katsuo corrected one of his arms as it tried to slip out of it’ proper place, and delivered the final few lashes that would finish out this trek. He was beginning to sweat a bit, but exhaustion had not caught up with him yet. Not even close.

After another few minutes of work, Katsuo had finished with this path, and began the task of picking up the wood again. With all the extra weight of his body, throwing the wood on to it made for a fine work out, and walking up hill as he did so would train his musculature even more, and doing so as he had so many extra limbs to manage would be a fantastic way of increasing his own bodily control and awareness. Every part of this was making him stronger in so many ways at once, and he adored every minute of it. Minamine Katsuo wouldn’t have had it any other way even if he could have.

Then, having made his way back up the mountain, and bundled up these sticks into a fine faggot just like the one before, Katsuo prepared to move on. He noticed that this faggot was just a bit bigger than the last one. Maybe he was getting better at doing this. For the third track, he would try and make the biggest faggot he could.

Now, the third trek, most likely the final journey he would make today. He moved, traversing another twenty meters or so in order to make yet another fresh start. And then, of course, just like before, he was off. Kumogakure no Sato’s Bleeding Heart blazed a trail through the forest area just like before, uninhibited by the cloud cover which by now had grown so familiar to him, unimpeded by bramble or branch, newly-created whips working furiously and fervently to lash through and tear away at every bit of loose lumber upon which they could firmly grasp.

Sweat was beginning to come now, as his effort started to kick in. His breathing was a touch heavier, his muscles beginning to ache. Contending with him now, in addition to all else – the defensive birds, the offending obstacles and branching brambles, the steep incline and the loose terrain – there now stood the obstacle of fatigue and exhaustion, of sore muscles. Even those which he had created artificially on his body with ninjutsu had begun to burn and scream. But he pushed through it – or tried as best as he could, to fight. He noticed that his limbs, his whole body – especially the unnatural additions he had created – were becoming more unruly with every passing moment. They had all been made hyper flexible, to allow him to better reach more difficult spots, but now he was regretting it as his muscles slipped too far back in to their joints, or too far forward. Staying accurate now seemed eager to present before the jounin an entirely new series of challenges.

A series which he, as Kumo’s Bleeding Heart, the Blue Blood of the Hidden Cloud, was all too happy to take on. Challenges were practice, obstacles training. This was perfect for the jounin, who for so long had hungered for a new opportunity to grow, lusted for a chance to become stronger and more powerful than before. His arms burned, but still they lashed. His legs ached from the constant pounding of boot on broken ground but still, they heeded the whims of their master, pounding again and again on the hard, loose earth beneath them, fighting to keep Katsuo’s body upright despite the steep, downhill incline against which he fought.

Crack crack crack! The whips did their worrying work, and Katsuo pushed all the harder as exhaustion racked his muscles and agony enveloped his core. Keeping himself standing in an upright position while in some places horizontal had a nasty tendency to become more than a little painful after extended periods of time, after all! Pushing forward, Katsuo threw his arms out again and again, working harder and harder by the moment it seemed to keep them under his control. The weight of the whips, of his own massive musculature seemed almost too great for them, and constantly they were bending back in their joints to positions that Katsuo found less than comfortable. Still, he pressed on. When he noticed his aim getting sloppy, he picked up the pace of his slashes, and doubled his concentration. When his feet slid, he gripped with chakra for the sheer purpose of staying alive, and then just stomped all the harder with those big heavy boots of his to make sure he got a firm grip. His joints were starting to ache, and the jounin had long since begun to wonder if he would still have toe nails by the time the sun had set and the day had ended. Still, he pressed on. Ever onwards, towards success, towards growth, towards power.

What was nothing less than anguish made Katsuo nothing less than ecstatic. Such a challenge, such effort, such a brilliant display of determination and power and – dare he say it, even youth – was not something he had been able to conjure up, to make for himself, in a very long time. The life of a shinobi seemed sometimes filled with more head games than physical combat, and tried his patience endlessly. Life was so much easier when you could throw the puzzles that troubled you off the edge of a mountain. It felt good to let himself get tired, to feel his body become exhausted – after such a long time, to know that you were bettering yourself was a rare and difficult thing. And so, onwards, for the sake of his faggots, he pressed. His arms were ever aching, ever slashing and whipping mercilessly at the resources around them. Surely, by the end of the day, he would have amassed a fine collection of faggots to keep the celebratory fires burning well into the night and then some.

And that would be enough for him.

[seiuchiblarg]

(Katsuo Training Thread #4: Stamina -- 2003/2000)

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Rubble and wreckage lay strewn about the broken remains of the paths he’d created. His entire body ached, begging for rest and screaming for respite. His muscles ached and implored for a chance to take a break, but Minamine Katsuo was smiling at the pain, eager to use it as his means to grow. Already, he’d been working for about an hour, tearing through trees with whips of his own creation and flashing through the foliage. Kumo’s Bleeding Heart was using this mission as a training session. Not only was it a fantastic test of his own bodily control as he worked simply to continue standing upright, manipulating not four but ten appendages to meet the demand of lumber, rushing downhill and forcing his body to the limits, but it also helped his strength as he trekked back up the mountain, gathering every branch he’d pulled away or hacked off and hiked uphill to the top, through the cloud cover, until he gathered at the top and tied them together into large faggots that were probably one hundred pounds each easily.

And all of that was coupled in with the fact that it was an arduously exhausting sojourn in itself. Uphill, downhill, pushing sets of muscles both foreign and natural to his body, pushing every limit he had and breaking some which he had thought he did not, body burning, anguished and agonized and aching painfully, beggingly, screamingly. He’d finished his third trek downhill now, and was sure that he’d pulled all the wood that the village would need for their celebration of the night. He was unsure if he’d be able to make those celebrations, as tired as he was, but Kumogakure no Sato would celebrate tonight, and good times would be had by all, and it would be because of him.

But even though he’d torn down the limbs and branches, and two of the trails he’d created now had their remains bundled up into piles of sticks which had been wrapped up and bound with rope provided by his beloved Hidden Village of Clouds, even though he had worked and exerted and pushed and could feel himself getting stronger and more powerful by the moment…. Katsuo knew that he was not done. Still, the third trail needed to be bundled up. That meant another uphill battle. Picking up all of the many heavy branches he’d torn down and ripped out and slashed off of the trees. To do this would mean a travel up hill, and a look out for all the wood which had been torn down that he could find. It would mean carrying back yet another heavy load, tying it up, and then – Katsuo dreaded the thought even as it came to him and he realized just how much all of this work entailed – lugging all six of the faggots he had to painstakingly created back to his home in the Hidden Village of the Clouds. His muscles ache djust thinking about it.

But Minamine, Katsuo was not the type to quit when his muscles ached and his body was raw. He was not the type to frown at challenge and lament in the face of arduous tasks and agonizing tests. No no, he was stronger than that. More eager to service himself, and also to service the village he loved, than that. When the challenged showed itself to him, he smiled, beginning the trek uphill once more, gathering up every branch and log and shredded bramble he could find that was of a reasonable size for a pyre. It was not unlike the last two treks, simple walks up a steep hill with loose ground beneath his feet, constantly reminding his limbs – both those of a natural persuasion and those which he had newly created, foreign and unfamiliar – that they belonged to him, and were meant to obey. Simple effort in the face of great pain, and the deed would be done, the trouble over.

It took a few minutes, but he completed that much. Unloading it all, Katsuo bent low to bundle it all up, just as he had with the results of his previous treks. His first run was one where he was learning the limits of the whips and acclimating himself to the terrain all over again – he’d had the stuff to create about one and a half faggots from that load. The second one was much better, He’d picked up a groove and was able to finish what was left undone from the first load, in addition to two full loads in itself. In the third, his exhaustion showed itself, in both the destruction and in the clean up, and so he’d gathered only enough for one bundle. Traveling from one drop area to the next was an extra twenty meters, and Katsuo ran instead of walked, both for the sake of improving his endurance, and also for the sake of getting the task done quickly and efficiently. Normally, the task would be charged to multiple ninja of lower ranks, but Kumo no Sato had given the task to the Bleeding Heart and he alone, and so he’d finish the task with as much punctuality and pride as he could bring himself to find.

That made six, which seemed just about perfect for Katsuo. He had six arms, already screaming. Hoisting each one up by the rope by which they were bound, Katsuo began the trek home. Now, he was carrying not only his body weight, and the added load of all the water he’d added to his body to create the additional limbs which were required for the task. He was not only working with the faggots he’d worked hard to create, bringing them down a hill to the village and calling it a day. No, it was a combination of those things, each throwing their lots in with the agonized core from trying to walk upright underneath all of the weight on a more than steep slope. They threw their weight in with the aching arms and muscles – not just those of his body, but the foreign limbs that he had created just as well, adding to the mix of breaking muddling and bleeding muscles. He pushed through pain throughout every inch of his body, in every tiny millimeter which Kumo’s Bleeding Heart could no longer afford to feel, through exhaustion both physical and mental. He wasn’t only working his body, but his mind had to be vigilant on a constant basis through it as well. Keeping track of not only six arms, but four legs, and the appendages they held. Manipulating and working them properly, at high speeds down a steep hill, while controlling his chakra to stay upright and on the mountain side. And finally, of course wielding the six whips that katsuo had created for the purpose of completing this mission in the first place! Surely, there could be no doubt that his mind had done as much work as his body. Soon, however, the mind would be able to rest, and not even so much as a moment after the body would come as well.

That was the thought that kept him going. A sweet respite. A seductive rest. A silver rehabilitation, beautiful and peaceful and perfect. The afternoon air was filled up completely by the grunting and groaning and exhausting murmurings of an exhaustion ninja from the Hidden Cloud as he hefted and lugged his heavy load of huge faggots to his beloved home, dreaming of the dreams he’d soon behaving. There was no doubt, he’d sleep soundly tonight. But first there was a mission to accomplish, a goal to reach. Six heavy bundles made their way down, and Katsuo with them. He wanted to move more quickly than the brisk jogging pace at which he’d been heading down, but he knew that between the control of so many foreign bodies and all of the extra weight at once, coupled with his already high levels of mental exhaustion, high speeds would end in only the very worst possible of ways.

The journey back to Kumogakure no Sato, his beloved home and loyal comrade, would not be even half as long as it felt. Katsuo was imagining the future as he traveled, trying to ignore the pain and the exhaustion, and as near as that future was, he found himself lost in the nostalgia it created. Dreaming of a near and clear future was a more tortuous fate than dreaming of that future which was far off and may not ever arrive – with those futures that were near, practicially guaranteed, one could taste the things of which they dreamt, one was capable of feeling the fate through which he or she was meant to endure or in which he or she had been intended to revel. And, in imagining it, realizing how close it was, the seconds ticked by at less than even the most sluggish and meager of snail’s paces, pain and impatience slowing the ticking of every clock in the world to seem as minutes rather than seconds,m moments, instants in time.

His endurance, his stamina had already been polished and sturdied just in the process of rending the wood for the night’s celebrations into their faggots. Now it was genuinely being put to the test, Katsuo was almost considering stopping, resting, giving himself even the briefest of respites. He denied himself that luxury, of course, both for the sake of self improvement and for that of speed and efficiency. He kept up at the brisk jog at which he had started, acknowledging but ignoring the pain that shot up all four of his legs with every step, trying to forget the distinct possibility that he may not have toenails by the end of the journey. His mission would be accomplished, and Kumo enjoying a celebreation as a direct result of his actions. Katsuo could be happy with that. If he could get there in time, of course. There was always that little stipulation. He was panting, sweating, and only now did he realize either of those facts. In fact, his brow was soaked with the moisture of hot exertion, the clothing he had created for himself drenched and sticking to his body with his heated exhaustion. This did nothing but add to the discomfort, and help Minamine Katsuo’s smile to grow. Every new addition to the challenge, each new obstacle, every new way that his body was forced to suffer and endure, was a new way to push. It was a new form of torture, but also a new form of training. It had been far too long since Katsuo had felt this pain, that satisfying relief that came with the agony of massacred muscles and laboring lungs. It brought a smile to his face, knowing that he was doing well. Knowing that every obstacle and nuance to this trial made him stronger. Coming close to the brink of failure was unforgivable in a mission, when lives were on the line and livelihoods at stake, when civilians could be hurt or starved or killed for one’ mistakes. But here, in the makeshift training ground Katsuo had made for himself, limits were okay to find. Barriers were made here specifically to be found and broken. And every inch of distance that was places between himself and the old limits was additional distance from the time Katsuo would find himself at the mercy of his own weakness.

Finally, the faggots were donated whole and healthy to the committee in charge of preparing Kumo events. Katsuo was dismissed, and allowed to go home. Upon arriving, his loving wife found him with a smile and a glance. The smile of satisfaction on his face was unmistakable, and the sweetness of seduction in her eyes was inomitable.

Katsuo smiled to himself as he pulled her closer, laying his lips on hers. A kiss to make everything better. And maybe, before I rest, just one more way to train….

[seiuchiblarg]

Jutsu Training post #1: 432/400

[color=#34462b]Haguru -- Turn Over[/color]
E-ranked Kenjutsu
In the blink of an eye, Katsuo is able to turn his umbrellas over in his hands or switch from hand to hand, to switch swiftly from one type of attack to the next.

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They were new and foreign to his fingertips, but he could handle them well enough. The weights were odd and difficult, but he could pull it off okay with the years of practice he had attained with different weapons over the years. The dark blue of the weapons themselves complimented his outfit, but the odd way the metal rods clinked and clanked against each other, the hard and heavy leather of the top of the umbrella, it’s unique way of catching the wind and slowing and waving and rippling, was entirely new to him.

His training began with familiarity with the weapon itself. The top of the umbrella and the rods to which it was connected made the top half drastically thicker than the lower, and Katsuo needed to master adjusting his grip to turn it and flip it and use it. He was able to turn it around and move it from hand to hand, get a feel for it easily enough. The twisting, however, the quick switches, had eluded him. That’s what he was beginning with today. It made little difference if it could parry a strike or launch a barrage at an enemy if he couldn’t access it quickly enough to take advantage of an opening. And so he worked, as he had been for a while. He slid the umbrella down in his hand, trying to open it at the perfect moment to catch it up top and turn it in his hand, welding it backwards for a proper shot from the longer, more powerful launcher. It took a few times before the timing was perfect, but ultimately he could drop it and catch it as quickly and ably as he needed too. The difficult part was twisting and spinning and turning it in his hands. As he did so, he had to adjust his grip and hold to make sure it stayed firmly in his grasp.

Tossing it up, he reached up and caught it in his other hand, allowing it to slip down and trying again in his offhand, twisting and turning it in that grip, and then going back to the other. It was a slow, clumsy work, but it did work, and slowly Katsuo found his confidence with the weapons increasing. There was much to learn with the use of these weapons, however, if he wanted to be as adept with them as he’d planned to be. He spun them clumsily in his hands once more, working for minutes at a time with each one until he was absolutely sure he’d rightly mastered it.

[seiuchiblarg]

(Jutsu training #2: 413/400)

[color=#34462b]Amagasa Hineri -- Umbrella Spin[/color]
D-ranked Kenjutsu
By placing the handle of an umbrella into his palm and gripping it a certain way, Katsuo is able to release the umbrella in a way so as to send it spinning at an opponent with it's cover opened, to take advantage of it's bladed edges. This is most advantageous in very close range combat when Katsuo exchanges blows with an opponent's weaponry and can take them by surprise, but the special form of release works just as well at any given distance to which Katsuo could realistically throw.

SpoilerShow

Now that his hands were familiarized with the weapon, Katsuo needed to get to the use itself. Turning it in his hands once more, Katsuo took a brief moment to make sure that his handle and grip was still as good and familiar as he’d made it. Katsuo took the time to grip it right, and then released one of the umbrellas in a throw, opening it as he did so. At first, it looked like it might have worked, but the damned thing tipped slightly with a breeze, and Katsuo knew he was being to gentle.

He picked it up and tried again, closing it before making a few faux thrusts and parries with the weapon before releasing it quickly and watching it go. This time, he got ahead of himself, and it tipped back, caught in the fury of his throw. Much like his analytical skills, proper throwing of these weapons would require calmness and careful control in battle.

It took many more tries than Kumo’s Bleeding Heart would have liked to master throwing the weapon, but eventually, Katsuo was able to at least get the angle right, keeping it vertical. The trouble, however, was that it was terribly difficult to keep it vertical while giving it the type of spin that could be at all useful with its bladed edge. It was a rather frustrating series of failed attempts and disgruntled curses before Katsuo could get it right. Every once in a while, he’d get a proper throw in, and smile, and think he’d finally got it, but then on the next attempt it would be screwed up again.

Finally, after a full hour of working at it and many many many attempts to keep the vertical position of the umbrella while giving it a good momentum to finally get it. The yard was full of Katsuo’s cursing, and he found himself grateful that his kids were still asleep this early in the morning. Eventually, however, work and effort finally paid off, and Katsuo found himself training just a while longer even after he was confident that he could pull it off, working on throwing it from different angles, throwing each umbrella in rapid succession, throwing from different angles and hands, and even incorporating his Hatsuyu no Mizu techniques into it. Eventually, Kumo’s Bleeding Heart was confident in his ability to use his umbrellas themselves as effective range weapons, even before he’d readied himself to use the needle launchers themselves.

[seiuchiblarg]

(Jutsu Training #3: 448/400)


[color=#34462b]Garatto -- Sudden Opening[/color]
D-ranked Kenjutsu
In fast Taijutsu exchanges, Katsuo is able to open his umbrella and then close it again in less than a second in an attempt to surprise an opponent. This will hopefully startle them and buy Katsuo a second's time or create an opening.

SpoilerShow

The handling of the weapons themselves seemed to work fine. He could throw them well enough so as to be satisfied with his ability there. Quickly, he was finding these umbrellas were deadlier weapons than he had anticipated them to be, and found himself rapidly gaining confidence in himself as his ability to wield them got better and better and better as time went on. Now there was a rather simple matter to master: Being umbrellas, they were made to open and closed, and had different functions either way. Katsuo would benefit from these weapons the most if he could open and close them in less than the blink of an eye. And so he was working on it. In fact, he had been for long minutes now already.

Frump, thrump, fwoosh, again and again he worked on the umbrella, opening an d closing it as quickly as he could, never satisfied with his quickness and always hoping to get just a bit more out of the weapons. The opening and closing of his new and custom made weapons was simple enough: A simple button to be pressed either by hand or with chakra, and then a gentle application on the shaft that held the metallic firing rods down would push it up, causing the umbrella to open and become defensive, or else ready to fire. He could use the bladed edges, or he could merely pop it open quickly to surprise an opponent, and that would be relatively effective – if he could do it quickly enough to take advantage of that surprise.

And so, he worked. It was exactly hard, so much as irritating. Katsuo had to admit he felt more than just a little bit silly opening and closing umbrellas again and again, each time just trying to do it more quickly than the last. Again and again and again, the umbrellas opened and closed. Such a simple motion, with absolutely no challenge to it at all… Katsuo just had to focus on getting it done as quickly as he possibly could. He needed to be able to use it to surprise people in combat, to give himself that precious moment of opening.

Finally, after a long boring practice session filled with sighs and impatient mutterings from a ninja who felt this was far below him but knew it was necessary, he was able to get it open quickly enough to satisfy him. He was able to do it one handed, two handed, changing positions, in the midst of combat, all of it. It had taken a lot of training time, but he had finally managed to pull it off.

[seiuchiblarg]

(Jutsu Training #4: 768/700)


[color=#34462b]Honruida -- Home Run[/color]
C-ranked Kenjutsu
With much practice, Katsuo is able to use this technique to grip one of his umbrellas firmly with both hands and knock away incoming projectiles or jutsu with it.

SpoilerShow

Alright. I think I have a firm grasp on how to open a god damn umbrella. Gratefully, and not without some irritation at the time that had gone by whilst he practiced such a mundane trick, he moved on to the next task. This one, however, would require a little bit of help, which Katsuo could produce himself. Now that he was relatively content with his ability to perform basic maneuvers with the umbrellas, it was now time to try something a little bit more intense. It would be an actual move with it, more than just a silly swish or opening; a new technique, which may even require a bit of help. And so, Katsuo formed a Water Clone, and got to work.

The idea behind it was simple enough: The clone would throw some basic jutsu and a few weapons at Katsuo, and Kumo’s Bleeding Heart would respond to the attack by knocking it right back at the opponent. Katsuo couldn’t do this with every technique, of course, but against weaponry and simpler ninjutsu, Katsuo might be able to turn the tide of a fight with that. And so the clone began his onslaught. It started with weapons that were simple enough, and with his supreme taijutsu skill, it was more than simple to knock those out of the park. The clone made a few seals and fired off a pair of water bullets in rapid succession, and Katsuo had a slightly harder time – they were small, and fast, and came in rapid succession. It took two or three tries before Katsuo could pull that one off – and he took a couple of nasty hits in the process, leaving a few angry welts and causing Kumo’s Bleeding Heart to fill the air with curses.

It took multiple attempts, but seven bruises, nine welts, and an untold number of foul words later, Katsuo found himself able to knock away both bullets in rapid succession. He was rather proud of himself: That was difficult to do. The jounin then permitted his clone to pick up his umbrella, and fire off a trio of needles at Katsuo. He did this a few times, each time gathering the weapons and reloading them into his umbrella before the next shot, and Katsuo was smart enough to position himself in such a way as not to be stricken by the needles as they approached. These were heavier and longer than typical senbon, and getting hit directly by one could prove more than merely painful.

He missed more than he hit for a long time, striking out and cursing and waiting “patiently” for the clone to reload before firing off another three or four needles from the lesser rods for Katsuo to miss. The jounin’s patience was tested just as much as his ability to hit the slim, difficult projectiles. Finally, however, Katsuo was able to bat all three of those away too – after a whole lot of time trying. He took a few more shots at basic projectiles, water bullets, and needles, repeating and practicing until he was certain that he had a good, firm grasp on the move. Unlike the previous techniques, which merely led to other things and were necessary for him to master the weapons, this was something he could actually use in combat on its own – and he did not by any means want to mess it up when the chance arose.

Finally, after knocking away over one hundred projectiles thrown directly at him in a row, Katsuo was confident that he could take any projectile that was moving at a fair pace. But, partially because he wanted to see just how strong his new weapons were and partially because he was bored with all this monotony, He allowed the clone to fire off a trio of needles from the main barrel of his umbrellas – the launcher that actually had real power behind it. He took a careful stance, knowing that if he missed me may not survive the attack. But because dying in a training thread would be totally lame, that was not going to happen. The clone signaled, and Katsuo prepared, and it fired the needles.

They came faster than Katsuo expected, but with his experience, he was able to adjust in time. He adjusted, swung… and lodged three needles deep into the bodies of the umbrellas. He was able to defend against attacks of that caliber… but it effectively ruined the umbrella’s capabilities. Well. Now I know what I can’t defend against…

[seiuchiblarg]

(Jutsu Training #5: 420/400)


[color=#34462b]Hikkakeru Pachin -- Snap Catch[/color]
D-ranked Kenjutsu
By flipping an umbrella in his hands so it faces backwards, Katsuo is able to open and close it in a split second, catching projectiles or limbs that come in Katsuo's direction. Once the umbrella closes, it will require a strength of six or greater to pull themselves out of the grip, or eight strength to break out.

SpoilerShow

Alright. I’m starting to really get the hang of this! Katsuo formed a second clone, and set the first to mending his broken umbrella. It would need to be repaired very effectively before he was confident about taking it into battle. He had practiced basic moves so far, getting comfortable with the new weapons and learning to flip and strike and twist and parry with them. Most of the night thus far had been spent making sure he could handle the weapons as adeptly as any other. It was rudimentary and basic, and Katsuo found himself steadily gaining confidence with their use. They were less foreign in his hands now, and Katsuo felt relatively secure in his ability to perform with them in combat. But, he still had a few Kata to master before he could genuinely shine. And so, he put in still more effort into the night.

As the first clone began to work on mending the broken umbrella, the second one rushed Katsuo. It was time that he got in some real practice. The clone was much slower than Katsuo himself, but with the weights to hold him back, Katsuo was able to parry properly. But it wasn’t just parrying he wanted to do. As blows were exchanged and attacks delivered, Katsuo waited until the proper time, and then snapped open the umbrella quickly. The clone expected it, of course, and as a result was able to snap his arm away before Kumo’s Bleeding Heart could catch it. Again and again and again the attacks would come raging in, and again and again and again Katsuo would defend with the umbrellas, opening and closing them as quickly as he could to catch the clone’s limbs.

Once in a while, the catch would be successful, and he would release the clone and start again. On and on the spar would continue, and Katsuo found himself able to catch his clone’s movements more and more frequently as time went by. Several long minutes passed by as he and his clone happily exchanged blows, with Katsuo snapping up the limbs of his water creation and releasing them and continuing the fight from there. After a good ten minutes of sparring, Katsuo was confident that he could complete the snap catch very reliably. Still, however, he continued training, not wanting to settle for good enough, and instead pushing forward until he was genuinely adept. After a total of fifteen minutes of training, Katsuo finally decided it was time to move on.

[seiuchiblarg]

(Jutsu Training #6: 746/700; 150 words of preparation exactly)

[color=#34462b]Ketaguri no Amagasa -- Umbrella Sweep[/color]
C-ranked Kenjutsu
Using the blunt-hooked end of the handles to Katsuo's umbrellas, he is able to take advantage of an opening in an opponent's defense by making a sweep with one of his umbrellas and catching a limb (usually a leg) with the hook. Then, with a quick jerk and a twist, Katsuo is able to pull the enemy up and off their feet, bringing the target closer to him all the while. The twist is forceful enough that it has been known to cause fractures to bones, or even break those of frailer opponents.

SpoilerShow

Katsuo moved on from his catching Kata: Gaining proficiency with a technique was one thing, but beating a dead horse was another entirely. He was confident now that he could reliably catch his opponents, if he could get to the proper angles. Now, he and his clone kept sparring, but now he wasn’t just trying to catch limbs with his umbrellas. Now he was going on the offensive. Soft thudding and thumping could be heard throughout the training yard in the back of Katsuo’s home as they worked together to master a new Kata. His first clone still worked on the broken umbrella in a corner of the quiet training yard, and a breeze began to pick up as Kumo’s Bleeding Heart continued his training. The work was getting fun now, and Minamine Katsuo could not help himself but to smile at the chance to practice and improve so much.

Katsuo held his one functioning umbrella and blocked enemy attacks from the clone, not initiating any of his own except to grab with the hook. He blocked and worked, noting that the clone could make grabs at the handle of the umbrella if even half a chance were given, and took that into account. He made note to keep the handle spinning and working, constantly difficult to catch hold of, as he worked. He continued trying to make grabs. The very first attempt he made was successful if for no other reason than that he had surprised the clone who thus far dealt with only grabs. This move took more time to use than a simple catch technique, however, and he found that a big part of it would be not telling or showing when he was about to attempt to make a catch.
Normally for Katsuo, making catches was an easy thing in Taijutsu, because he did it reflexively and reactively, in response to an enemy’s attacks rather than as an attack of his own. Now, however, he wanted to sweep and hook his clone, in a particular spot, and now that the clone was aware of what it’s creator was trying to do, it of course was doing everything it could to make sure it did not happen and that the attempts failed every time.

Even when katsuo did get the drop on his clone and make a successful grab, the clone kicked out of the hook before his creator could give a yank and get the damned thing off its feet and on the ground. Katsuo needed to do a series of things to successfully get this hit: First, create or spot an opening. Then, take a quick advantage of that opening without being obvious about what he was doing until it was too late. Next, Katsuo would need to actually make the grab, and then finish it out by twisting the hook as he pulled, giving the enemy a spin and also preventing them from kicking out. That process took longer than Katsuo would have liked to master. It was a long series of brutal exchanges and vicious attacks, but finally, Katsuo found himself able to pull it off every third or fourth try. They worked harder, and a third clone was made after this second one burst into a puddle, and Katsuo worked on that one as well, until he found himself able to catch that one every other try. They kept exchanging and fighting and working, and after a long time, Katsuo found himself able to do it. At one point, he made a particularly masterful combo, snapping the umbrella open and closed in half a heartbeat and then turning it over in his hands while the clone was taken aback, and hooking it that way. As time went on Katsuo fought and practiced and got better and better and better at it. He still could not pull it off every time, but his accuracy rating was put well above ninety percent now. He could be content with that… but now, he was having fun. Kumo’s Bleeding Heart kept on for an additional few minutes, even after he was confident with his ability, just for the sake of novelty. His clone hit the ground again and again, and it wasn’t until Katsuo threw the damned thing across the field with his umbrella and it burst back into a hapless puddle that he sighed, and decided it was time to move on to precision with the true function of the umbrellas.

[seiuchiblarg]

(Katsuo Stat Training #6: Control; 2817/2800)

SpoilerShow

The wind was biting and the clouds were cold, blackened and charred by lightning's fire. Thin layers of ice crunched and crackled beneath the feet of all those nimble enough to walk on it, the top layer of frost breaking and biting at the legs of those who were not. Trees simply could not live at an altitude this high, and oxygen was thin and scarce. Up this high, no rain fell, snow did not exist, and somewhere in the angry clouds, Kumo's Bleeding Heart was training.


His breath turned to angry vapor as his body jerked and shifted in a foreign way, being controlled entirely and completely with chakra rather than his muscles. Four more arms and two more legs were on his body than there probably should have been, and his true limbs hung limp and lifeless as the others did their work. Katsuo looked like a genuine monster at this point, with pointed teeth and long claws and all the things a young child would fear at night. The sort of thing parents checked closets for, underneath beds. His body still looked like it moved in a normal way to anybody who was not used to watching the jounin move regularly. To anybody who had grown accustomed to seeing him move, how ever, it would seem very queer indeed. It wasn't fluid and smooth, perfectly controlled and deliberate as most all of Katsuo's motions tended to seem. As a matter of fact, if a person who knew him were to Compare this to his usual manner of carrying himself, Katsuo's movements would seem positively jerky.

But, he was still quite able to fight and control himself, however foreign it felt. His legs moved when he told them too, in more or less the way he told them, and he still got all the right responses. His fists still punched, his shoulders still rolled, and his neck still popped and cracked. His knuckles popped when they told them too, and all his grabs and attacks felt almost the same as if his muscles had done it themselves. Almost. It was queer, how ever, to know it was not them doing it, to be so used to forcing his body to move the way every other being on the planet did and then move to an entirely new means of locomotion. So very odd to remind himself to move with his chakra and not his body. Everything felt disjointed and out of place and just plain not right, and it wasn't helped at all by the fact that all these new limbs could in fact disjoint at less than a moment's notice, bending in no way that limbs typically should and therefore being all the more difficult to manipulate even with bodily control, let alone with his chakra -- with which he was notably less (albeit highly) skilled.

He closed his eyes, and chakra began to course through his body both real and newly created, artificial. For just a split second, Minamine Katsuo began to glow. It was intensely difficult; there was more blood in his body now to work with and change, he had to control his chakra just to perform hand seals, and then to use a jutsu while maintaining that chakra presence all throughout himself... Ensuring that each part of his body was properly loaded with Suiton chakra and simultaneously manipulating his blood and his body parts, focusing chakra through every inch of himself....

And it didn't work. The acid he'd made was too weak, and didn't spread through enough of him to have any true effect. Katsuo cursed aloud at the failure. He'd been working so hard to get the control just right, and still, it eluded him! For days now, he'd been working on it, trying and trying and trying still more to perfect it. He didn't know when he would be required to use his extra limbs to produce high level ninjutsu, but he knew that the skill would be handy to have, rather than relying on his own bodily control to be able to do it for him at all times. It shouldn't be as difficult as it was, using chakra rather than his bodily control just to use jutsu, but there was so much multi-tasking in the job at hand that even an elite ninja like Katsuo had trouble completing it! He feared that it was more trouble than most ninja would have, in fact, as he had already been working for so long to have turned up no results at all, but that wouldn't stop him from persisting.

Katsuo closed his eyes, feeling for his chakra. He could feel it in every cell of his body, feel it in all of his being. He focused, took a good, long, deep breath, and then tried again. The chakra coursed through his artificial fingertips, and he felt the way the digits twitched and writhed and responded. The way they were moving, he felt like he was a frustrated chuunin again, practicing speedy hand seals just to keep up with those around him. But they got done, and once more Katsuo seemed to glow, light shining gently off of Katsuo's body against the turgid storm, and it all began again. He searched and groped and felt and flexed, stretching his chakra into the furthest reaches of his mostly artificial body, grasping at the blood, converting and twisting and changing it, keeping chakra throughout all of him. For a second, a split second, he'd thought that he had finally achieved success, but then in his fleeting high of achievement there was a rush of chakra, and everything left his control and his blood was blood again.

Never was a man so displeased to find that his blood was actually blood.

He cursed again, louder and with more color, and immediately set back to work. Again the sealing, the stretching the groping, and once more the wretched failure, followed by another string of words that made him glad his children were not with him in that area. He closed his eyes, to breathe this time, and allowed himself to calm down. Performing a technique so very complex as this one while frustrated simply would not work, especially with the challenge of maintaining his chakra elsewhere as he did so. He had to be calm, focused. If he was not, than there was no purpose for any of it. Long moments passed, and finally his anger had quelled, if not the icy storm clouds around him. Wind blew harshly in his face and his fingers felt numb from the awful cold, but his chakra flexed them anyway and he used them to form the seals.

The same old song and dance, with just a couple different notes, to liven up the steps. The seals were formed, the eyes were closed, the Bleeding Heart of Kumo no Sato began to glow... and the chakra flooded through his body once more. He took his time, and continued glowing, past the three seconds, on to four, five, six.... seven... It took longer than he wanted, but slowly, ever so slowly, he found it all taking shape! It was working! And just like that, success was his.

And how does one Minamine Katsuo handle success? Why, by setting himself up for failure of course! The technique was cancelled almost immediately after the acid was proven effective (by way of a bit lip and a spat wad of blood at a target.) It had taken Katsuo eleven seconds to perform the jutsu. Now he wanted to perform his technique in less than ten. Eleven seconds was fine when you had time to prepare for a battle, it would do quite wonderfully when you knew what was coming, but in combat it simply could not be feasibly done. Katsuo very dearly wanted it to be feasible in the midst of combat. And so the seals were made and the eyes were closed and the failure came in as rushed as the jutsu and Katsuo didn't curse this time because at least he'd had some success a moment ago.

Instead, once again an attempt was made. He had to ease into the proper time, wean himself off taking an ungodly poor speed, and allow it become second nature to the boy. Two times, three times, four times he used the jutsu, and each time (except the third, during which he failed to do it at all, which was particularly frustrating to the ninja) he'd managed to accomplish the technique, but each time it was in eleven seconds or just underneath it. It was okay, though: after days of effort, Katsuo had finally managed to pull this much off. It might well be days more now before Kumo's Bleeding Heart had it within an acceptable range, but he had made progress. Now that he knew he could do it, it was nothing more than a simple matter of learning to do it so well that it had become simple and second nature to him. And so the training continued with a refreshed sense of possibility, with Katsuo focusing and channeling and trying and working until he simply could not do those things any more when, finally, exhausted of all chakra supply and without any other form of energy to his name, returning to his home and warm bed, grumbling at the lack of satisfactory progress.

***

Katsuo hated being right all the time. It had taken three day's worth of effort just for him to be able to use the damn jutsu, and now, five days into practicing since then, he'd hardly managed to cut the time down by an average of a second each day. He didn't understand it: other ninja could grasp things so easily! They could pick up the fine points of chakra control, manipulation, ninjutsu, even those damned complex arts like Fuuinjutsu and Genjutsu so quickly! It all came with so little goddam trouble to them! A day's effort for them, surely, was all it would take nearly any competent ninja to do it. And that being the very most! And yet, here Katsuo was, eight days into practicing this, and only now was it even close to within an acceptable level.

The ninth day passed with no improvement, and what the day lacked in such, it made up for in cursing. He was getting tired of this, and had gotten to a point where he was working on it in any spare moment he could find alone. In his home, he would make additional limbs, controlling them with chakra, just to get used to it. He would walk on water, He'd run up trees, he would even make the actual climb up the mountain to get to his preferred training spot using absolutely nothing but limbs he made and controlled with his own chakra. He simply could not accept that he had found his limit. He was not ready to give in yet. Not when a goal was there and waiting to be reached.

Hours and hours and days and days of practicing did next to nothing for him. Day eleven rolled around, and Katsuo had hardly made any progress at all. He was close, but not quite there. At the start of the day, he was just a mere one second away from his goal. Three seconds was not unreasonable to ask for in a battle, if a shinobi was skilled. Kumo's Bleeding Heart should be able to buy himself that much time. But any more than that would be a ridiculous request. There was a fine line between the two, and as of yet, Katsuo was still on the side of that line which he would rather not be seeing.

Day twelve. Hours upon hours of practicing. Every day. He could begin to feel the strain wearing on him. Like his chakra reserves had started a little lower that day, unable to fully recover from the frequent, urgent use, the constant pushing, every evening. Exhaustion ate at him exceedingly actively, fatigue found him faster and frequently. But it didn't stop him. Again, he'd get himself alone. Once again, he'd form the seals, the limbs would grow. Just the same as all the times before, using nothing but chakra control he'd pilot his new limbs up to the top of the mountain on top of which he did so love to train. And then he'd form another set of seals, and try to make his blood into death.

Four seconds. He started the day at four seconds as his consistent time. Now the ritual seemed like second nature to the jounin, but he went through it anyway. He still had a way to go, and he refused to give up until he'd gotten there. Once more, the familiar sequence of seals. once more, the closed eyes, the deep, calming, soothing, cleansing breaths. Once more, feeling the chakra, spreading it through his body. Yet again he kept the count, made the seals with hands controlled via naught but his own chakra. Once more, the change was made, and once more, Katsuo was dissatisfied. This time, it was four and a half seconds! But, he was only just getting his momentum going. He'd get it. He was sure of it. He had to. He just had to! He'd been coming so close... Surely today would be the day! It had to be!

Today was not the day.

Foul curses filled the air for hours as Katsuo went about his unnecessarily loud work. At least he could say he'd improved his ability to string together fun and fascinating four letter words. Once more he was thankful that his children were not yet old enough to train with him, and he got back to work. So close. He kept. on. coming. Just. So. Very. Damn. close! Not even full seconds away. Four seconds became three and three quarters of a second. Three and three quarters of a second became three and a half. But still, the time which he had for so long been chasing eluded him, escaped him.

Katsuo saw progress, but he still wasn't close enough. He was now within a second of his elusive goal, but still, it was so far away. Day thirteen progressed with out any progression at all, And most of day fourteen went very much the same way. Until there was progress. finally, after so much work that Kumo's Bleeding Heart had far past long since forgotten what relaxation was, he'd done it! He'd broken the three second barrier! Relief flooded him, and he tried again. And again, and again. It took him a few times, but eventually, success was his once more, and a few tries later, he did it again. He wasn't sure what gave, what broke, but finally, he'd gotten it. Once more, he had achieved something incredible. Still using nothing but chakra control to manipulate his extra parts (now more out of habit than anything) to flip around, punching the air, a flurry of excitement and activity, positively dancing with his joy. Success was best when it came well worked for.

Katsuo took no joy in considering how long it took him. It was always a thorny subject to him, how long ti took him to learn such tricks as this when other ninjas did it so fluidly, learned it with so little problem... But he'd mastered it. He'd closed the gap a little more. And nothing could take that away from him. He used chakra control to move himself back down the mountain that night a victorious man.

He took the long way down. He still had chakra reserves to spare, and for the sake of keeping his Abilities quiet in a village that had very few secrets, he did not yet want to walk through the village proper with his limbs like this, yet he wanted to keep training for a bit more. Abilities like his were rare and odd, and he didn't want it out yet. People still underestimated him. In the eyes of those who disliked him, he was "The best of the best of the gutters rats." Katsuo was okay with waiting to dazzle them for now. He'd let them wonder at his success rate, and leave it at that.

His mind wandered while his body and chakra did their own thinking for him. He'd never been able to do that before; it felt positively grand. This was such a small success, but it was a fantastic feeling. He could practically feel himself getting stronger from what it meant for him. ANd there was nowhere to go but up.

WHen he got home again, he remade the limbs, just once more, just to cary him to bed. Where he slept, getting one of the best rests he'd had in ages.

[seiuchiblarg]

(Jutsu Training #6: 746/700)

[color=#34462b]Enjin no Senbon -- Needle Ring[/color]
C-ranked Kenjutsu
Using this, Katsuo is able to activate the ten firing rods even while the umbrella is closed, creating a ring of ten needles that travel in a growing ring, beginning only half a foot in diameter. In one post, the ring stretches to a fifteen foot diameter as it travels the same amount of meters. This technique was designed to strike things [i]around[/i] a "target" at which the barrel of his umbrellas were pointed, so as to surprise the real targets. It is also useful for striking enemies in an area around a client that is not to be harmed.

SpoilerShow

With a lesson in grabbing the crap out of things with hooks, and just how aerodynamic one of his clones could be, Eventually Katsuo decided that he was well accustomed to catching the foe off guard with his attacks. He was actually more than a little proud of himself: It may take him ages to grasp chakra control, but taijutsu was something he could handle. He picked that up faster than most anybody he'd ever seen before. This was something that involved very little cursing, and something he did quickly, that may be able to impress his children, so until he began practicing his more dangerous techniques, he wouldn't have minded if they watched. That was more than he could ever say for training something ninjutsu-related. And heaven help the poor fool caught in his way when he decided to practice genjutsu!

But today, he was training his specialty. His art. And he had new brushes to paint with. it had taken time to set the targets about the field, but he'd needed the breathing time anyway, and by that point, Katsuo was ready. The goal here wasn't actually to hit the targets, but rather to fire around them. If he could place a target squarely in the middle of the needle rings he was creating, he would be able to use this technique to rescue people from the clutches of nearby attackers.

He started out at the maximum range of fifteen meters, and that was simple enough. Two or three tries was all it took, and shortly after that, he could easily do what he had to. If the targets were a bit away from the person he needed to protect, anyway. Distance would be key here. It was interesting to watch which way the needles moved, how they spread further apart, their direction so different but their trajectory so similar. He had to calculate for ten different shots all at once, and even with them moving in the same way at the same pace, it was difficult to chart out the entire circle. He kept finding it's radius bigger or smaller than his estimates at different distances.

But, he was getting the hang of it. Catching on remarkably fast. Every time, his calculations came a little bit closer, and a little bit closer. Soon, he found himself able to hit the exact area around a target, as he'd planned, one hundred times out of one hundred tries. That seemed like a damn fine record. Now it was time to get challenging.

He fired while running. Jumping. Vaulting, lunging, spinning. He snapped the umbrella up with remarkable, intense quickness and fired that way. If there was a motion he felt he could feasibly be doing in combat which would also allow him to fire, he attempted firing as he performed that motion. That actually took longer than he expected. There were just so many different things he did so very often in combat.... And Katsuo had to get the hang of adjusting for each one in the split second that it took him to do it. Katsuo adored the challenge, and with every new attempt, progress was made. He was actually having fun, jumping, flipping, cartwheeling and tumbling around the yard, working on his aim, stopping only to reload when he had to.

The minutes weren't as long as some others had been in this day and training session, and certainly the minutes were shorter than they had been when training for other arts, but there were lots of them, and regardless of how much fun he had, Katsuo found that he should be wary about it. He could easily spend far too much time having far too much fun with this, but he figured as long as he was genuinely improving, as long as he was firing shots and his aim got better, he'd be fine. May as well enjoy himself while the opportunity was about, neh?

And so he trained. Front flips, back flips, tumbles, cartwheels. Running, jumping, spinning, twisting, even some basic swordplay with the help of a clone. Katsuo would try it all, practicing until he was confident that he could do all that was needed, when it was needed, no matter the situation. It was almost sad for him when finally, panting and sweating just barely, wiping away at a brow that was warmer than it was wet, he knew he had to call it quits.

[seiuchiblarg]

(Jutsu Training #7: 730/700)

[color=#34462b]Enshi Enjin -- Death Circle[/color]
C-ranked Kenjutsu
After positioning one of his umbrellas in a directly vertical position, Katsuo is able to spin the umbrella in the air and, with a minimal application of chakra, keep it spinning rapidly. it will remain spinning for an entire post, releasing half of it's needle supply and sending a ring of needles out for up to fifteen meters. Because the release is spread out, it is a bad idea to jump them, as when the intended victim lands they would likely meet the same fate anyways.

SpoilerShow

With a sigh, he had to force himself to stop. As much fun as he was having, he was nearly done with his training session for the day, and he had a wife to get back to, who surely would be missing his company. he had to put on his serious face, because the final couple jutsu of the night were serious techniques. he was confident that he could master them well enough, but that didn't make them any less dangerous. He'd went about the field before beginning, picking up needles to reload his umbrella with so as to make sure he was not wasteful (and also, of course, in order to make completely sure that neither of his precious children would be finding a nasty surprise while playing out in the yard some time), and then it was about time that he got to work.

Care was the name of the game here. Katsuo could end up seriously injured practicing this particular jutsu. The same could be said for the next one, but he was thinking more about the job at hand. What would come would come, and first came this. He spun his umbrella in his hand, getting a good feel for it. It spun and twirled, and katsuo let it go. He'd do it multiple times, counting the seconds, trying to see how long he could get it to stay in the air like this. It wouldn't be very high, but it would be high enough for him to do serious damage to any number of targets.

Three, four, five, six, seven, eight... Eight seconds. Hmm. Katsuo wondered if he could improve that at all. Perhaps he could, but that was a matter for another time. First and foremost, he had to make sure he could use this technique and be safe. The umbrella would spin, and Katsuo would take cover, allowing it to stay in the air and activate, firing off needles in a wide circle, again and again in a sort of pulse. Any foe standing through that would get a very nasty surprise indeed, in that their legs would be made quite full of needles.

He didn't like that, though. Not the part about filling foes with needles. He loved that part. That part was cool with him. Positively spiffy. It was the taking cover bit that he disliked. So long as he was immobile on the ground, he'd be just as vulnerable as his opponent. Surely, there was something he could do about that?

Katsuo decided to try different things to keep himself both safe and mobile. This ended, largely, in pain. And some bleeding. But he was familiar with bleeding, by now. No big deal. The wounds would heal quickly enough. In the end, he found his best bet was to either use the umbrella as a post to hand stand on -- less than safe, and potentially ruinous to the technique -- or to use a defensive ninjutsu, which was altogether more sensible. All he had for that was a relatively high-ranked technique, but he could use that for a number of things after it had protected him, and so it would not at all be wasted. Once he found out that such could worked -- and treated the needle wounds he' caused himself in trial and error, discovering that dancing around the needles was in fact quite difficult to do -- he decided to take to the issue of time. He wanted to see how long he could get the umbrella to spin and launch. A good ten seconds would probably take up about half of the umbrella's needle supply. That was an incredibly simple thing to master, with his skill in taijutsu. Just a lot of practice, getting a feel for the proper force with which the umbrellas had to be spun, and then relating it to the amount of time it could stay up. That took just a few minutes to get the hang of, and only a few more to master, truly. This was discounting, of course, the time it took to run and retrieve all of the thrown needles. All in all, Katsuo felt that he had more or less mastered this jutsu now, with very little pain, compared to how much it could cause.

Still though. Ow!

[seiuchiblarg]

(Jutsu Training #8: 1017/1000)

[color=#34462b]Hassha Hazumi -- Firing Rebound[/color]
B-ranked Kenjutsu
After lots of time spent practicing with his weapons, Katsuo is able to throw his umbrellas handle-first at an enemy, launching three needles in rapid succession. The momentum of the launched needles throws the umbrella back into Katsuo's grasp, while also firing three needles to strike the opponent at three different angles.

SpoilerShow

Finally, with that technique mastered, Katsuo decided it was time to move on. He went about, gathering the many, many needles he'd fired and reloading them back into his umbrella. That took a fairly long time in itself, and the sun was beginning to set. He'd taken the entire day training, hadn't eaten or dran anything. He hadn't even gone in to take a piss! At that moment, he realized how necessary it was, and later on, it could be said that he could have gone back and found a time when he was more satisfied with a pee he had taken than the one he had then, but it would have taken some looking.

But it didn't take long until it was time to get to work again. He shot his umbrellas a couple more times, from the main barrel this time. His clones had lon gsince been destroyed, and it occured to him they may have made good moving targets, but instead he took his time just feeling the umbrella itself as it fired. The recoil was powerful, and Katsuio was curious about whether or not he could take advantage of that...

He decided to try. He fired a few more shots into the ground, first single shots and then triple shots, just to get a feel for the recoil. THe force that pushed its way through Katsuo's arms after each fire was considerable, and though he was strong enough to maintain a solid accuracy, he wondered at how it may effect the umbrella itself. He was confident that the shock wouldn't damage it, of course, but that didn't mean it couldn't be used. Taking a moment to consider and calculate, he gave the umbrella a toss, closed and straight. With a chakra trigger, the umbrella fired a single needle, it's course altered as shock ran through it. It wiggled, wobbled in mid air, and fell harmlessly to the ground, it's momentum put to an end by the counter force it had created in the process of firing the needle.

The needle in question, however, remained straight and true, landing just where Katsuo had predicted it would. This pleased him to no end. He picked up the umbrella, figured a bit more, and tried again.

Even by throwing it more lightly, providing less momentum to counter, he couldn't give it enuogh backforce to put it back into his hand. The countering energy just gave it a bigger wobble and sent it twirling diagonally to the ground with a clattering metallic crash. This gave him information, such as that there would have to be a greater force for what he had in min dto work, and also that perhaps more needles would be necessary. Once more, he did a little figuring, and he threw the umbrella, and this time he fired the shots three at a time. The three shots, combined with the power of his force, did somethign closer to what he expected, sending the umbrella flipping end over end and backwards. Perfect. That gave Katsuo a bit of confidence. What he had in mind could be done. It just took a bit of practice.

And so practice he did. It took many times and many more, firing shot after shot after shots again and again and again, throwing the umbrella more times than he cared to count, until the mild tint of orange in the sun itself spread out and painted the sky around it while darkling to a pastelle pink. He threw and threw and fired again and again, until finally, he had found the perfect combination of the force with which he needed to throw, and the timing of the firing to have the umbrella return to him as the needles made their way towards a target. He could throw it, launch the needles, and have the perfect amount of energy to send it flying back into his waiting hands.

It wasn't enough to do it standing still. He knew he could most effective if he could do it in numerous ways, so he went further, testing and practicing and working hard until he'd even mastered throwing it while running forward, towards a target. This would give the needles an even greater force, an even more powerful speed, and help Katsuo keep opponents busy and on the defensive while he closed a distance and made a fight into a close-range bout. Kumo's Bleeding Heart was glad to have thought of this one. It would be of great use.

He thought perhaps there may be more to it, though, and so he shaped another water clone and had it run about. Katsuo used the technique he'd just come up with using the Mizu Bunshin ran about, and surely enough, a moving target added yet another problem into the mix. Hitting a target reliably took a great deal of time in itself, through which the Bleeding Heart of Kumogakure no Sato found himelf cursing in colorful and impressive ways, stringing together four letter words in ways that astounded even the man himself.

Now and then he'd hit a clone and they would burst into water and the jounin would have to make them all over again. Training the idea of his, which he'd had on a whim, was taking more chakra than it had any right to. But with every clone he took out, he felt a little bit more confident, and suddenly he was destroying two in a row, three in a row, four. He was getting some where, and it felt damn good to do so. He was grateful that he was as naturally talented with taijutsu as he was, for he knew mastery of this weapon could have been infinitely harder than it had thus far been.

Eventually though, after many strings of curse words, many more missed shots, and still more water clones created after he had begun to get the hang of it, Katsuo felt safe in saying he had a good grasp on the technique, even when the target was in motion.

[seiuchiblarg]

(Jutsu Training #9: 1014/1000)

[color=#34462b]Jouro Senbon -- Sprinkling Needles[/color]
B-ranked Kenjutsu
By throwing both of Katsuo's umbrella's high into the air, he is able to use chakra to keep them spinning, high in the air, and also to release the firing mechanism on all of the rods. This releases half the needle supply for each rod at once, causing a rain of needles to come down in a ten meter diameter that lasts for three posts (100 needles per post.) With chakra, Katsuo is able to hold these umbrellas up for a total of five posts, giving him a little bit of time to escape himself or else to lure an opponent into the trap if he requires.

SpoilerShow

He couldn't believe how quickly the day was passing! Already the pink of sunset had faded to the purple of dusk, the blue of twilight. Stars began to flicker and twinkle and shine high above, and The cold mountain air grew colder, turning Katsuo's vapors to fog as he exhaled at every breath. He cleaned up his mess once more from the previous sessions of the day, once more clearing out the needles he had fired with the technique before. But now was the time for the final technique he had planned. His children were already in bed, his wife would be going shortly herself, and Kumo's Bleeding Heart was left to himself to train the most dangerous of his techniques.

He threw his umbrella high up in to the air, holding it up and attempting to maintain it's presence. He kept an eye on it, watching and observing as it spun and stayed up, focusing chakra to maintain it. He held it and held it and held it. He knew that before he began the dangerous part of training this technique after all, he needed to get a feel for his timing. He needed to know how long the umbrellas could hold out in the air with nothing but his chakra propelling it.

As it turned out, the amount of time was not satisfying. The damn thing could not even stay up for hardly anything more than a few seconds! Katsuo had never held anything suspended in the air with chakra before. Especially not something like his umbrellas, which were brand new, and he certainly had never rotated them like that before. It was much harder than he would have anticipated, just like everything he had to deal with concerning chakra and the use of it always was. It hit the ground with a thump and a clatter all at once and he sighed, knowing it would have to be able to stay up longer than that for his technique to work. He gave it his chakra and threw it up into the air again.

It took many, many attempts and a special kind of effort just to keep it up in the air, and rotating it was another story entirely. He could keep it up relatively well -- his wife could tell you that -- but when he began to spin the daned thing in the air, everything got screwy, and he needed to master that before he could begin the next part.

An hour past. Or perhaps it was two? The stars shone more brightly above his Cloudy home as the blue of twilight turned to the black of the night. Kumo's Bleeding Heart threw the umbrellas up again, and once more they came down, but this time after nearly an entire minute. He could only keep a decent rotation kind of motion going for about half of that time. He was making definite improvement, though. He was surprised how much more efficient he'd gotten with his ability to use chakra since he mastered the use of his Burning Blood Technique. But there was still work to be done, and the very precise rotations needed to keep his umbrella properly angled and spinning were still difficult for him to pull off.

Finally, however, in that awkward hour where the night had finished being night but was not quite yet ready to be morning, he found himself able to keep it spinning for upwards of a minute. He counted that much as a victory, and finally, threw the umbrella up again. Mizore rotated for a few seconds, and Katsuo let the needles fly.

Funny thing about rain: It's really easy to get caught in. Kumo's Bleeding Heart threw himself onto his back, forming seals and spitting water as the needles came down, and, as the water became massive pectoral muscles to protect him, he found himself... completely unharmed. The needles fell, just as he had planned them to when they were released from their firing rods, but they came down sideways or diagonally or off trajectory. He undid the protective jutsu, and considered the meaning. He cursed with realization as his umbrella came back down.

He'd need to use chakra to keep them in place as well. He cursed at this, and, after scurrying about to gather the needles and reloading them, gave it a shot. And another. And another. It took more time gathering the needles after each failed attempt then it did to actually make the try. It was infuriating, to say the least. He loaded, reloaded, and reloaded again, and by the time the crickets were quiet and the black was turning blue again, He found that he had almost, almost had it. At least, it could be said that more needles stuck up than stayed down.

He was now able to get it spinning and hovering, and able to launch the needles with a decent efficacy and accuracy. But he needed to be able to survive it as well! It was time to test out the means he would normally use to defend against it, if escape was not an option. He did it once more, running out of the range and timing how long it took for the needles to hit the ground. He had just a few seconds at the very most... He scurried about and reloaded Mizore and Kirisame. Both umbrellas went up this time, and as the needles were released, Katsuo sealed. The water coated his chest as he threw himself on to his back, and the pectoral muscle was impaled. Katsuo found himself quite impressed with the depth of penetration, and the pain of being stabbed in pure muscle some thirty times, before undoign his technique andd gathering up his needles, one last time. he could perform the technique, and remain safe from it. He felt good, to say the least.
Finally, having spent all day and damnedly near all night on his training, Kumo's Bleeding Heart turned in, stronger for the time of practice, and glad for it.