Dragon Roost: The Trials and Times of the Hiten School Founder

[ShinobiTruth]

Jutsu Being TrainedShow

[Iaido • Rapid Sheathing]
D-Ranked Discipline
Prerequisite: 8 Speed, 8 Instinct.
Hijikata has learned how to more quickly and efficiently sheath his blades. Hijikata can now sheath his blade in half the time, allowing him to more quickly execute Iaido and Hiten Mitsurugi techniques.

It was a beautiful day in the Grass Country. The tall grasses and wildflowers danced gently in the breeze, the sun dancing precariously between the open skies and the cover of clouds. It was serene, peaceful days such as these that Hijikata remembered why he loved his homeland so. Though he was not so gifted as to be able to commune with the spirits of the land, as did the priests in the villages scattered throughout the country, he imagined that they sensed his earnest desire be as one with them. They blessed him by protecting him against grievous wounds and crippling disease, and they granted him the food he needed each day.

He, in kind, would repay their gifts by becoming strong and honing his warrior spirit.

In his meditation, Hijikata had realized his quickness in returning the sword to its scabbard was lacking. Some would hardly think that an issue, but the scabbard was just as crucial an element to his swordsmanship as was the sword itself. Thus, he sought to improve his talent in this area. Standing up, Hijikata readied his blade, one hand on the end of the scabbard, imagining himself surrounded by enemies. Those who did not respect the spirits.

Shinobi.

Closing his eyes, more clearly envisioned his opponents. They would not fight honorably. They would strike from behind, trying to catch his blind side. Hijikata spun and drew the sword from its scabbard in a clean slice behind him, cutting down the first man. He sheathed the blade once more and spun again, slicing the second opponent in two. The third approached from the right-

Hijikata stopped. He took too long. Had this been a real fight, he would be dead, his opponent's blade cleaving his head from his shoulders. He had to be faster. The sheath, just like the sword, had to be an extension of himself. Sheathing his blade, he reset his stance, preparing to fight the invisible foes again.

The enemies in his mind taunted him, their eyes glowing red with the foul ki of evil spirits. Scourges of nature, they laughed at the balance with nature he represented. They sought to destroy all that they could lay their filthy claws on, and Hijikata was the only one standing between them and their ultimate goal. He could not afford to fail.

His hand hovered over the hilt of his sword. Hijikata was so still that he appeared to be frozen in time. The world around him slowed to a crawl. As the first enemy stepped forward to close the distance, the blade sung its lethal song in a slash in front of him. The facade of another enemy approached from behind. He quickly resheathed his blade and drew it again, slashing upwards and bifurcating the second opponent. A third would come from the side, and with a quick double slash, the third enemy lost both its hands and head.

Hijikata stopped. An imaginary blade pierced the side of his neck. Instant death.

Hijikata persisted. Each time, he would hone his skill further against the phantom enemies, ten in all. Each time, he would struggle to kill three, only to succumb to the fourth. Eventually, the fourth would fall to his blade as well, but the fifth sinister foe would catch him unawares and end his imaginary life. On and on, Hijikata would continue with this exercise, and though he didn't realize it at first, the speed at which he was sheathing his blade in its scabbard was slowly, incrementally, gradually increasing. After half an hour, the fifth enemy had fallen. Within an hour and a half, the sixth enemy had been felled by his blade. After three hours, the seventh opponent would be struck down consistently.

Several hours into his practice, Hijikata's brow was dotted with beads of sweat. Taking a drink of water from his canteen, the ronin experimentally rolled his shoulders and moved his neck in circles, trying to relax his muscles, tense after such intensive training. Even masters of a style had to train. Those seeking to craft a new style altogether had to train even harder than the masters.

Hijikata slowered his stance, his hand hovering over the hilt of his trusted blade. Eyeing the enemies around him, they had at first seemed like an impassable wall. As he had persisted, however, his attacks had become quicker. He now had an even better feel for where his scabbards were at all times, not simply his swords.

The first enemy took a single step forward. Hijikata cut him down before he went any further.

The second foe leaped at Hijikata, but his blow would find no purchase. Hijikata separated his legs from his torso.

The third opponent attempted to strike the ronin from behind, a coward's tactic. His cowardice was rewarded with death.

The fourth malcontent thrust a spear at him. Hijikata sidestepped and stepped forward, relieving the weight of his head from his shoulders.

The fifth renegade lifted a large mace overhead. Hijikata swung his blade vertically, splitting the still-standing corpse into two even pieces.

The sixth vagabond set an arrow in his bowstring. Hijikata leaped forward and sliced through the bow, deeply into his chest, cutting his heart.

The seventh villain closed the gap and attempted to punch him. Slamming his hilt into his stomach, Hijikata stepped back and cleanly cut him from hip to shoulder.

The eighth evildoer dove at Hijikata's left flank. The ninth came at his right. Two quick slashes split their faces apart.

The last obstacle came down from above with a blade not unlike his own. This one wore a headband.

A shinobi.

Quickly slamming the blade into his sheath, Hijikata slashed upward, showered in the proverbial spray of viscera that followed. Hijikata stared at the scabbard gripped firmly in his hand. It was a part of him now, like never before.

[ShinobiTruth]

Jutsu Being TrainedShow

*[Iaido • Ambidexterity]
D-Ranked Taijutsu Discipline
Prerequisite: 5 Instinct
After practicing for a long amount of time with the concept of using both of their hands with equal skill, the user has developed a level of ambidexterity that allows them to utilize their preferred weaponry without any sort of issue. This extends to other methods of combat or simple everyday life as well.

Word Count: 1005/900

Hijikata's left hand was weak. Most swordsman would consider this not to be an issue; many people were right handed, and it was simple misfortune that left-handed individuals could not easily learn the sword, often being pushed to trades and crafts where the dominant hand had less of a roll in its outcome and quality. But despite understanding the reasoning, Hijikata bristled internally at the notion that one could so easily concede to such reasoning. An unfortunate statistic of birth meant you had no place on the path of the sword? The Hiten School would not tolerate such biases. But to preach such a message, he had to be able to apply it himself. Testing the waters, he decided to do calligraphy with his left hand instead, to see from where he would start.

On the first day, he was ashamed to say that he not only took much longer to complete his morning meditative writings, but their appearance was blotchy, ragged. Even though he had brushed the ink onto the parchment himself, Hijikata could barely read the poems he'd written. They were almost as a child writing fanciful stories. His hand had been slow, unresponsive. The amount of focus it took for him to even control his left hand half as effectively caused it to shake, further compromising the quality of his work. Hijikata hung the work on the wall of the room of the inn he was staying at, offered by the village elder as thanks for traveling to their small town to teach the fundamentals of the sword. He remembered seeing one boy who looked healthy and eager to learn the blade from him, but the dojo assistants turned him away.

He had seen the boy's left hand clench tightly. For the sake of that boy, he would conquer his own weakness and teach him the sword.

The second day came, and Hijikata sat at his table again, an hour before his lessons were to begin. Taking the brush and the ink, he began to write more poems. Closing his eyes, having already envisioned the poem he wanted to write, he let the brush guide his hand over the parchment. His hand was like a young girl learning to dance. Her steps were shaky, unsure. She needed to be properly led. The brush was the man. The brush knew where it wanted to go, and it was patient. Though clumsily, his left hand made its way through the dance. Hijikata opened his eyes, looking down at his work. It was still certainly rough, not much better than what he had written just yesterday... but there was one marked improvement: it was clear enough where he could comfortably read it, without stumbling over himself or second-guessing what he'd put to paper.

The days stretched on, and the line of works painted with his left hand increased as time progressed. Eventually, on the fifteenth day, Hijikata opened his eyes and was pleased to see a set of calligraphy so crisp that they simply had to have been painted by his right hand. The unsure girl had grown into a woman, her dance filled with as much grace, poise, and allure as any other dancer. A perfect reflection of his right hand.

Now, that dancer was about to enter the battlefield.

Taking his katana, Hijikata set up tatami targets, wrapped around a bamboo pole. Known for their similar consistency to human bone, they would serve as a great analog for battle. Poising his left hand over the hilt of the blade, Hijikata focused on the image of the cut he was pursuing: clean, quick, efficient. Swordsmanship was a way to kill people, but dragging out the suffering of an honorable warrior bravely facing death was a disgrace. Death to the brave should be swift, merciful. Between heartbeats, his hand gripped the hilt, and the sword swung out in a crescent. A large chunk of tatami fell to the ground, but Hijikata was not yet satisfied. Though they certainly helped, the skills learned with the calligraphy did not fully translate to the way of the sword. Half of the cut swept upwards and tore at the tatami instead of cutting cleanly through. This would not stand. He would have caused his opponent a painful, gruesome death had this been battle.

Sheathing his blade, he readied himself again. His left hand hovering over the hilt of his sword again, Hijikata once again envisioned the slash he wished to execute. Taking a few extra moments to breath and center himself, Hijikata, between pulses, grabbed the blade and let it fly. This slash came swiftly down against the the tatami this time. Walking up to the tatami piece that fell off, he noticed a marked improvement between the first strike and the second, but it still was not sufficient. Part of the cut near the end tore through the material instead of slicing clean through. A ragged cut on death would not guarantee the man's spirit would go free. It could still stay tethered to this life and could be corrupted, becoming an oni, and cursing him to eternal torment.

Once more, Hijikata sheathed his blade and readied himself again. His left hand hovering over his hilt, he closed his eyes and imagined himself becoming one with his blade. Every twitch, every graceful moment of the deadly motion, for a few brief seconds, he embodied that sensation. It was within that sensation that Hijikata struck. Opening his eyes, he walked over and surveyed the last piece of tatami he cut off. He was satisfied. It was a clean, vertical slice. Should he ever have to perform haishaku for someone redeeming themselves through seppuku, he could now confidently do it even if he only had use of his left hand.

At the end of the lessons that day, Hijikata sought out the boy who'd been turned away before. He brought with him a wakizashi, prepared for him by the village smith. "Come. Today, you will begin to learn the sword."

[ShinobiTruth]

Taijutsu Training - 5 Points: 5087/5000 words

The villagers had evacuated, the lookouts having long since rung the alert bells and fled. Hijikata tightened the cords securing his katana and wakizashi to his waist, his wakizashi hanging from his right hip and his katana from his left. A band of armed thieves were on their way. Left to their devices, they would kill them men, kidnap the women for their own pleasures, and enslave the children for forced labor in their camps. Hijikata had dealt with plenty of foolhardy marauders in his time. They were brutes, at best, or at least that's what experience had taught him to expect.

Thus, he was surprised to find that as opposed to disheveled, patched up vagabonds, Hijikata was faced with soldiers, armored, lined up in battle formations. Thirty men in all, these men were no ordinary men; they were trained. Standing up straight, a single hand on the scabbard, his eyes reflected the suspicion in his mind as the formation came to a halt about one hundred feet away from where he stood. The village gate stood just behind him.

The soldiers stood at attention, and Hijikata was the one to break the silence. "What business do you have with this village? It is filled with peace-loving people who seek to do no harm to anyone. Speak!"

Unfurling a parchment scroll, one of the armored men on horseback read aloud: "Heed these words, all peasants and villages! Lord Hoshigaki declares this village and its lands part of his fiefdom! You will submit your lives and work for his greatness, paying him tribute for his mercy. If you resist, your lives will be forfeit!"

At the end of the decree, the twenty men unsheathed their blades, holding them aright with both hands in a traditional kendo stance. This was bad. Hijikata may have bitten off more than he could chew. These were trained, competent soldiers, and they were armored. He wasn't confident that he could penetrate their armor...

No. He was the only thing standing between these men and the obliteration of this village's livelihood. Hijikata had to stand his ground. "If any of you men value your lives, there is no dishonor in running away," he replied. He could see that some of these soldiers were fairly young. "If you step forward, the only mercy I will grant you is a swift death."

Not a single man budged. To the last, they would fight for their lord. Fine warriors, all of them.

A pity they had to die.

Dashing back into the village, Hijikata lured them into the alleys and corners, where he could fight them one at a time. Running through the streets, Hijikata stopped and turning around, drew his sword from its scabbard and slashed at the nearest soldier. The blade sung true, but the segmented square plates of the armor stopped the weapon from hitting skin, instead glancing off the square plates that protected the man's chest. Hijikata mentally reprimanded himself. He was in the thick of battle. He had to pull deeper. He had to become more than what he was now to come out of this alive. Parrying the counterattack, he continued to run down the alley. It was vital that he make sure he was fighting only one man at a time, lest he be overwhelmed.

Hijikata had noticed how the steel plates on the soldiers' armor were stitched together by thick threads. If he could make his cut between those plates, his blade would find purchase. Turning back around again, Hijikata waited for the man to attack and parried the blow before countering. Swinging his blade upward, his eyes locked onto the thin line between the plates of his enemy's armor and the sword followed, striking true. A stream of crimson arced up from the soldier's chest, and a look of shock washed his face clean of any other expression. He fell to the ground, gasping for air.

Quickly stabbing his blade into the man's neck, he ended his life quickly and painlessly, severing his brain stem before resuming his hit and run tactics. He'd have to keep reminding himself to aim for those fundamental flaws in the armor. The plates made the armor flexible, but it also made them weaker than a full plate would.

An arrow hit the ground in front of him, and he spun, drawing his sword and swinging in a wide arc. He managed to deflect most of the arrows, but several of them whizzed past him, and one of them nicked him across the shoulder, leaving a superficial cut. He would have to improve his swordsmanship even further if he wanted to come out of this alive. The second soldier saw the arrows flying overhead and used the opportunity to close the gap. Clashing heavily against Hijikata's guard, he pushed the man away before quickly sheathing his blade and tracing the line, drew the blade and used his Dragon Flash Claw technique. Driving the point of the blade into the man's armor, he thankfully slipped through and found purchase, grabbing the blade with both hands and slashing up his torso, splitting his heart in two in a shower of blood, killing the man instantly. His aim was still not perfect, though. The tip had struck one of the square plates and slid off, managing to penetrate the seams between the segmented armor. He had to push his limits and skills even further.

JutsuShow

Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu • Dragon Flash Claw
D-Rank Taijutsu Maneuver
Prerequisite: 8 Speed, Iaido • Swift Draw.
A variant of Iaido, Hijikata performs a quick draw. Halfway through the arc of the slash, instead of completing the slash, Hijikata steps forward with his left foot and twists the swords in his grip, using the momentum to twist and thrust the blade into the opponent. This can be useful when the opponent is expecting a slash, but it does leave Hijikata open to counterattack by a sufficiently speedy opponent or attack.

Another volley of arrows came flying towards him, this time with the arrows staggered to strike one right after the other. Hijikata was more ready for this volley, and he drew his sword ready to block them as he slid to a halt. Smacking the flat of his blade against each of the arrowheads, Hijikata deflected most of the arrows directly. One of the deflections, however, was careless, and it swept inside his leg and cut him on the inside of the left leg. It was nothing serious, but it would be infected if he didn't treat it eventually. He resumed leading the enemy forces through the village, keeping mental note of his failures with parrying that last arrow. He had to be still more precise in the heat of battle.

Two men were down. That left eight foot soldiers, seven archers, two pikeman, and the squad captain. He still seemed to be outside the village, waiting for his men to clean him out. He seemed to be quite confident in his men's abilities. He couldn't blame them; Hijikata's constant study of the sword was the only reason he was still alive, and even that might not save him unless he improved rapidly during this battle. The third man had seen his last two allies fall, and when Hijikata turned to attack, he was ready. Parrying his strike to the side, he thrust his blade towards Hijikata's neck. The threat of death spawned invention; spinning his blade, Hijikata deflected the thrust. As he deflected the blade, the rurouni noticed a small horizontal gap in the raised collar on the armor of his opponent, likely meant to make moving the neck and seeing around themselves more flexible. Bringing his blade sweeping up, Hijikata swung quickly with all of his strength. This time, his accuracy was more precise, and that precision paid off as he liberated his opponent's shoulders from the weight of his head.

Dedicating so much movement to one enemy, however, had been an oversight, and two blades swung down upon him. Bringing his sword up, still in its scabbard, Hijitaka blocked both blades, but the pair of soldiers drove him up against the wall of a house. He was strong enough to overpower them, but it wouldn't be easy. What's worse, he could see off into the distance that a single archer was training his arrow on him, drawing back the bowstring for the shot. Desperation becoming the father of invention, Hijakata pushed against the two swords, sliding his own guard upwards against them, as he swung his torso up and braced his feet against the house. Pushing off and flipping forward, he vaulted up and over the two men, and as the arrow flew beneath him, he swung his sword down at the arrowhead, deflecting the arrow to pierce through the soldier to the left that had been pinning him to the wall. The projectile shot him straight through the heart, killing him instantly. In that moment, he realized that it wasn't just his swordplay that needed to be more flexible. His own movements needed to be more adaptable to his present situation and surroundings. Turning towards the other soldier, Hijikata unleashed his Dragon Flash Claw technique once more, this time cleanly piercing the armor to bury itself into the man's heart. His death was swift, as promised.

JutsuShow

Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu • Dragon Flash Claw
D-Rank Taijutsu Maneuver
Prerequisite: 8 Speed, Iaido • Swift Draw.
A variant of Iaido, Hijikata performs a quick draw. Halfway through the arc of the slash, instead of completing the slash, Hijikata steps forward with his left foot and twists the swords in his grip, using the momentum to twist and thrust the blade into the opponent. This can be useful when the opponent is expecting a slash, but it does leave Hijikata open to counterattack by a sufficiently speedy opponent or attack.

That left six footsoldiers and still ten archers. Reminded of the small cuts by the infrequent pain, Hijikata realized that the wounds he'd received so far had been caused by those arrows. In order to survive, he would have to thin the ranks of these archers. Dashing away at full speed, he leaped through the open doors and windows of the houses in the village, trying to avoid getting cornered. As he approached a roof with one of the archers on it, he flicked the blood off of his katana and sheathed it, quickly drawing his wakizashi with his left hand. He knew that the archer would have enough time to get one arrow off. At this close range, Hijikata would not be able to dodge it, and the katana was too heavy to block the arrow on its own. He needed the wakizashi and perfect technique to deflect hit. Dashing out from cover, Hijikata ran towards a stack of boxes that formed a staircase to one of the roofs. Seeing the archer on that roof react to his presence, he followed the samurai with his bow and loosed the arrow.

With the wakizashi, Hijikata placed the tip of the blade against the right palm and, pushing them forward, completely blocked the arrow, the ammunition falling to the ground with an audible clang. In shock, the archer didn't have time to recover as Hijikata leaped up and, aiming for the waist line, stabbed the man in his pelvis, piercing his aorta. Holding the archer against him with one hand, the other took the blade out of his waist and plunged it through his throat into his neck, once again severing the brain stem. Hijikata pushed the corpse off of the roof onto the ground, the full weight of the man falling on one of the foot soldiers. That made six foot soldiers, nine archers.

Hijikata looked back and saw foot soldiers climbing up the boxes he'd just used to get to the roof, cutting off his normal escape route. Improvising, he took a step back, noting at least three archers having arrows drawn, ready to fire. Hijikata then dashed forward and jumped, curling his torso forward and pushing his body into a front flip. On his way down to the ground, he realized that if he landed from this height incorrectly, he might injure himself. Improvising further, he dropped his weight forward and rolled forward with the fall, getting back up and continuing the goose chase. His feet and legs hurt for doing so, as his technique was hardly perfect, but he was still in this fight. Running through one alleyway, he cursed and realized that he was heading straight for the westward village wall, a barrier erected of thick wooden logs. Turning around he looked up. Good, there were no archers insight. As he flicked the blood from his wakizashi and sheathed it, however, he cursed his premature optimism as three enemies, one foot soldier and two archers that had left their bows behind and picked up the weapons of their fallen comrades, charged out of the alleyway towards him. His back to a wall, Hijikata had no place to run. Drawing his katana, the man was forced to parry two swords with one, using only his right hand. The third warrior, the foot soldier ran forward, charging towards Hijikata with a vicious thrust. Using the same principle as when he parried the arrow, with his left hand, HIjikata drew his wakizashi from its scabbard and blocked the thrust, catching the point of the enemy's blade on the tsuba. Fending all three enemies off at once was no easy feet, and with a struggling hand, Hijikata slowly moved his wakizashi over to the right. Crouching lower, he coordinated his movements. In one quick motion, he released the thrusting blade from his wakizashi's guard, pushed up with his legs and pushed his sword up against the other two he was guarding against. The two men stumbled back against his sudden show of force, and the third plunged the tip of his sword into solid wood. Sidestepping the third, Hijikata tossed the wakizashi in the air momentarily, reversing its direction. Grabbing it reverse grip, Hijikata aimed for one of the small gaps in the plating on the back of the foot soldier's helmet. The wakizashi plunged through, his newfound precision rewarded with the momentary gurgling of blood before his enemy slipped off into the grips of the afterlife.

The other two archers charged at once. His back was still to a wall. He had to try and cut them down both at once. Further focusing on precision, Hijikata quickly sheathed his wakizashi and katana before drawing his katana once more in a wide iaido slash, stepping into the cut as he did so. The result of the skills he'd learned through desperation were impressive; large spurts of blood spewed out from the wounds as the two men struggled to breathe. Knowing he had little time, he quickly stabbed each one through the sides of their necks, severing their brain stems before sheathing his katana and running along the westward wall. He had just slain a fifth foot soldier and the second and third archers. That left five foot soldiers, seven archers. It was highly likely that they'd heard the sound of the combat he'd just been engaged in. Hijikata had to improvise further and push himself to his limits. The roof was not that high, but he couldn't afford to be caught climbing with his hands. That would leave him an open target... so what if he jumped off of one of the walls? Taking a deep breath, he ran towards the wall and jumped, thinking it would be as simple as the previous acrobatic tricks he had learned today. Not so. His foot slipped and he had to catch himself from falling flat on his face. He quickly ran back and tried again. If he failed this time, there was no third attempt; he could hear their voices getting closer. The enemy would soon find his location.

Running more quickly, he jumped. Quickly and fiercely, he kicked himself off of the wall onto the opposing terrace. Timing was just as important as force, even in movement. Had he not agreed to teach in this village, there was no telling how long he would have had to wait to learn that lesson, if he ever would have learned it. Hijikata didn't have time to relish in his personal victory. He had to keep moving. Running along the rooftops, the wood on the terraces creaked against his weight, alerting his enemies. Looking behind him, he saw enemy archers step into view. Turning a corner, he ducked out of line of sight, running back towards the main street. Four of the archers had remained on the ground, the other three taking to the rooftops to try and regain their lost vantage point. One of the foot soldiers stood below him, as he and the other archers were scanning the opposite side of the street. Hijikata noted the sashes which held the breastplates up on the foot soldier's torsos. It was likely thin, but there was almost certainly a gap in the armor there. Sheathing his katana and jumping off of the roof, the sound of creaking wood alerted the foot soldier, who spun and held the point of his sword up with both hands. Hijikata brought his katana in its scabbard down, the added weight of the scabbard and the force of him falling causing the soldier's arms to buckle, his guard effectively sealed. This was the start of the Twin Dragon Thunder Flash. Drawing his katana out of its scabbard as he hit the ground, Hijikata rolled, twisted, and sliced the enemy from behind at the waist, severing his spine. Shortly after the man fell to his knees, Hijikata spun and, tossing his katana in the air, reversed the grip and stabbed him through one of the gaps in the plating on the back of the helmet, his precision continually being refined and improved in the heat of combat. Though this alerted the guards, they were too late to save their comrade, his life ending with an unceremonious gurgle.

JutsuShow

Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu • Twin Dragon Thunder Flash
D-Rank Taijutsu Maneuver
Prerequisite: 8 Speed, 10 Instinct, learned Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu • Twin Dragon Flash.
An extension of the technique behind the Twin Dragon Flash technique, Hijikata fakes out the opponent, poising himself for an Iaido slash but instead slamming the sword in its scabbard against the enemy's guard, using the added weight to add more pressure against an opponent's guard. When making this initial attack, one of Hijikata's hands reverse grips the hilt of his sword. Hijikata then rotates and draws the sword out of his scabbard with the reverse grip, immediately changing the distribution of force, potentially throwing his opponent off-balance. Spinning and lowering his body Hijikata slashes the opponent under or around the opponent's guard before catching the scabbard in their other hand. This technique is ineffective against opponents with a higher Strength than Hijikata.

Quickly picking up his scabbard, Hijikata would soon see his trusted companion leave his hand. The four archers would get their shots off if he didn't now. Quickly sheathing the katana in its scabbard, he quickly redrew it but let his hand loose from the scabbard only moments after beginning the draw. The scabbard would fly spinning at an impressive speed. The scabbard would slam into one archer's bow, causing the arrow to drop. It then ricocheted off of said bow into another archer's head, causing his shot to go wild. The two remain archers adapted quickly, one shooting level, the other low. Hijikata slid, ducking under the one arrow and, with a single hand this time, brought his katana up to squarely block the arrow on the flat of his blade. Blocking all of these arrows, especially short range, was teaching him how to be more precise and flexible with his defense as well, not just his movements and attacks. Getting up to his feet, Hijikata twisted and swung his katana, cleanly beheading the two archers in front of him. Dropping their bows, the archers reached for wakizashi of their own on their belts, but it was too late; jumping back, he quickly drew his wakizashi and swung both of his blades on either side of him, quickly decapitating the other two archers as well.

Flying Dragon FlashShow

Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu • Flying Dragon Flash
D-Rank Taiutsu Maneuver
Prerequisite: 8 Speed, Iaido • Swift Draw.
An alternate use of Iaido, Hijikata momentarily grips the scabbard at the start of the draw before letting go. This movement causes the sword to swing the scabbard out towards the opponent, turning the scabbard into a functional projectile, flying a number of meters equal to Hijitaka's Strength score.

Quickly retrieving his scabbard, Hijikata ran for cover. His instincts told him correctly; the three archers on the tops of the buildings at the other side of the main road had heard the clamor of their struggle, and they had come to try and end his life. Three arrows all rammed into the same wooden crate, which buckled and barely held under the force. Had the archers been any stronger, Hijikata would have been a dead man, through and through. Running behind the building to his right, he could hear the shouts of the remaining four foot soldiers running towards his location. As he watched the street between buildings, he could see the archers were also giving chase, dropping down to ground level and brandishing wakizashi. Running out and around in front of the group of enemies in a wide circle, one soldier charged at him. Hijikata parried his downward swing with an irregular guard, using the flat of his blade to cause the blow to glance off and to the side. Running towards the back of the village, the end of the main road, Hijikata waited until the opponents were lined up. He'd spent the last twenty minutes fighting these brutes, and he'd had time to analyze weaknesses in their fighting styles and armor. Now was the time to put that knowledge to the test.

Suddenly stopping and turning around, Hijikata's enemies were not prepared for what came next. It would mean their end. Running full blitz at the enemies, Hijikata pulled his blade from his sheath and, targeting a thin horizontal opening between the steel plates in his armor. Sharpened metal rent bone and flesh, the man's lungs collapsing from the damage. From this strike, he did not sheath his weapon, instead using the momentum from the first slash to move into the second. One swing, one man cut down. The second warrior fell, his lungs also deflating after lethal injury. The third bowled over, his stomach split clean open. The fourth and fifth were both dead before the hit the ground, their heads cut clean from their bodies. The sixth was split open, Hijikata cutting through the tiniest crack in his armor, straight up from navel to nose. The last poor soul was pierced through the heart, literally flying off of Hijikata's sword as the blade slid cleanly through the small central gap in his armor where the plates were tied together before bouncing off of the tsuba.

His body glistening with sweat, Hijikata's ears scanned the area for more enemies. There were none. Moving back to those few still left alive in his last assault, the rurouni stabbed them through the necks, ending their suffering.

The two guards began to move forward as they saw Hijikata walk out, his blade and clothes covered with blood, but their captain ordered they hold. Flicking the blood from his blade, Hijikata sheathed his katana in its scabbard. This fight had taught him much. He'd become much more precise, which made him all the more lethal. Yet, he abstained from bloodshed whenever possible. "As fellow samurai, I urge you: see reason," he offered as supplication to his belated opponents. "These men died honorably, but their deaths were still in vain. Do not waste your lives. Go back, and serve your lord elsewhere."

With the wave of a hand, while still on horseback, the captain bid his two guards step forward, each brandishing spears. Hijikata sighed and shook his head. It seemed that his time shedding needless blood was not yet finished. Hijikata watched closely. Their armor was closer to plate armor. It was multi-segmented to allow for movement, but the gaps were even smaller than the previous armor he'd fought against. And as they brought down steel face masks, only their eyes were visible. These men were truly hulks, their necklines and their eyes the only vulnerable spots he could potentially target. He would have to use the added weight of the armor against them. As one of them thrust, Hijikata would sidestep, and as the other thrust, he would duck and evade. These two guards were clearly used to working together; as one was attacking, the other used that time to recover and pull the spear back to prepare for another strike. Had he faced these two first, Hijikata likely would have died. It was only due to the experience and skill he had received fighting the others before them that he was holding up now. He learned to relax when he needed to, being more flexible and lithe in his movements. He also had learned to be more precise in his attacks, not wasting time trying to brute force his way through tough defenses. He learned to more accurately target weak points in the enemy's protections.

A skill he was about to display.

Sidestepping one of the spears, Hijikata stepped in threatening their range. The other guard attempted to thrust at Hijitaka, but he ducked and dashed. His hand was on the hilt of his-

A wooden beam sudden slammed into his chest, pushing him back with force equal to his own. Sliding back on his feet, he grunted from the pain. Seeing the second spearhead rushing towards him again, Hijikata brought his katana, in its scabbard, to defend him, with both hands. The spearhead crashed straight into the center of the scabbard, the force of the blow causing the wood to crack as the rurouni was pushed back. As he breathed, Hijikata felt a sharp pain on his right side. Rolling his shoulder experimentally, the pain intensified when he rolled his shoulder forward. More than likely, that blow from the spear had cracked a rib. Taking as deep a breath as his injury would allow him, Hijikata focused. He had to try something else.

Stepping forward, Hijikata entered their range. Like before, their methodical, consistent attack patterns covered each others' weaknesses... mostly. Finding a small gap in their rhythm, Hijitaka dodged a spear tip and bolted forth. The other guard, expecting Hijikata to change targets, brought the butt of the spear up to try and repeat the same counterattack that had worked before. Hijikata, with his sword sheathed in its scabbard, batted the spear butt to the side before quickly drawing his blade and jumping while spinning. Drawing his blade, Hijikata turned and thrusted down and into the man's armor, piercing his heart from above with Dragon Flash Claw. Knowing the other guard would be swinging to try and attack him in the air while vulnerable, Hijikata pushed off against the large guard, vaulting over the incoming sweep as the first of the final three enemies fell to the ground, lifeless. Without his partner to cover for the long recovery time of his weapon, eventually Hijikata approached close enough to stab through the eye port in his helmet, piercing his brain, with the same technique. Both stalwart guardians fell to the ground, defeated.

JutsuShow

Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu • Dragon Flash Claw x2
D-Rank Taijutsu Maneuver
Prerequisite: 8 Speed, Iaido • Swift Draw.
A variant of Iaido, Hijikata performs a quick draw. Halfway through the arc of the slash, instead of completing the slash, Hijikata steps forward with his left foot and twists the swords in his grip, using the momentum to twist and thrust the blade into the opponent. This can be useful when the opponent is expecting a slash, but it does leave Hijikata open to counterattack by a sufficiently speedy opponent or attack.

Hijikata now turned to the captain. "I don't suppose... you're going to throw your life away, too, are you?" he asked, somewhat flippantly. It was a bluff. He was just off of fighting thirty-two men, had a variety of small cuts, and had a midly fractured rib; meanwhile, the captain had not so much as lifted a finger, and he appeared the most poised out of all of the mean, meaning he was likely stronger than any of them were, too.

Stepping down from his horse, he took his odachi off of the beast before smacking its hind, the horse neighing in surprise as it galloped off back down the road. "You are a powerful warrior, I will admit," he conceded, his voice as strong as his crimson armor. "But I would eternally shame my lord if I did not fight to the last like my men. I would likely have to perform seppuku to regain my honor. I will avenge them... and I will cement the honor of their deaths into my memory."

Drawing his sword, he held the sword high and parallel to the ground, readying a powerful thrust. He had no way of knowing how fast the attack was going to be, but he did know where the attack was coming from. Hijikata waited, his hand hovering over his hilt. The air stirred between the two. Whether the movements were ignited by the clashing of warrior spirits or it was the whim of nature was left up to the imagination. Then, the wind stilled... and the captain charged, just a hair faster than Hijikata's own movements.

He was prepared for the captain's thrust, which allowed him to cleanly dodge the attack to the side, but it seemed that was what the captain wanted. Releasing one hand off of the hilt of his katana, the blade came sweeping wide at Hijikata's neck. He brought his blade up out of its scabbard to parry, but the blade still dug into his flesh and cut the skin on his shoulder open. A small spray of bloody mist erupted from the wound on Hijikata's shoulder, and he winced from the pain. That was certainly unexpected. By using both hands on the thrust, the attacker could simply read which way the enemy would dodge and use his strength and the weapon's reach to attack the opponent while they were dodging. It wouldn't work with a normal katana or a smaller opponent, but it was an excellent technique for a man of his size and a weapon of that reach.

Seeing that his blow had found purchase, the captain did not relent, ruthlessly attacking at the edge of his range with wide, arcing slashes. Yet again, Hijikata realized that if this had been a more agile opponent with a more fluid weapon, he would likely be dead right now. It was thanks to the reach of the weapon that he was able to read most of the attacks. Some cuts still found purchase, however, as a cut on his thigh and a glancing blow on his hip joined the list of injuries he'd suffered from this battle. Hijikata wasn't focusing unduly on his wounds, however. Instead, his eyes had been scrutinizing the masked captain's armor closely, and there appeared to be one opening alone: at the base of the helmet right below the chin. The opening was tiny, but if he wanted to end this fight and emerge victorious, he had no other options. That was a chance he had to take.

With that knowledge in hand, Hijikata planted a ruse. Using the obvious wounds and fatigue he was suffering from to his benefit, Hijikata stepped forward and appeared to stumble slightly. The captain, eager to avenge his fallen comrades, took the bait: hook, line, and sinker. "This is the end!" he bellowed, his massive odachi coming crashing down.

Dropping to his knees, Hijikata held his blade up in an irregular guard. Using the flat of his blade, he angled the great odachi's blade away from him to slam into the ground. "Indeed, it is. For you."

Rushing forward, Hijikata didn't bother using Iaido. Rushing forward, the rurouni ran up and thrusted towards the commander's neck with all his might. The commander held up his armored hand to try and protect himself, but the tip of the blade pierce through the gauntlet and found its target. Hearing the gurgling sounds of blood filling his mouth, the captain fell to his knees with a resounding thud, his precious armor unable to save him now. "You will honor your comrades... by joining them in the afterlife. May the spirits guide you to peace," he prayed before stepping forward and piercing the captain's brainstem.

Pulling his blade soundly from the upright corpse, the captain's body fell to the ground, the last sound he would ever make on this earth. Sweeping his blade to clean the blood that stained its steel, Hijikata sheathed it, breathing heavily. He was not normally a selfish man, but after this...

They were giving him some sake for the road, dammit.

[ShinobiTruth]

Speed Training - Two Points: 2078/2000

The blade of the Heavenly Dragon needs to be faster than light itself. Hijikata had good instincts for having only known the sword for less than a decade, but his speed was lacking. If he had been even a small amount faster during the encounter with the warlord's men, he would not have struggled nearly as much against them as he had. It was clear that his agility needed to be improved. And apples would be what would help him become faster.

A strange notion at first, Hijikata's training method would become clear once one viewed the entire scenario. On a thick wooden log lay a six-pronged plank. On the end of each of these planks rest an apple. With a swift kick, Hijikata could launch all six apples into the air. His objective was to cut each apple vertically in half before they hit the ground. In order to do this successfully, he would have to push himself to cut the apples faster without compromising his accuracy. A simple enough task at first glance, but a significant challenge in practice. At his present skill level, Hijikata knew, for certain, he would fail. Keeping his blade drawn for this exercise, the rurouni, readied himself. Counting to three, Hijikata slammed his foot down on the wood plank, and the apples flew up into the air. His blade swung up and down, looking to execute his apple opponents.

One, Two, Three-

The soft thud of three apples hitting the ground notified Hijikata of his failure. He took the notice in stride, well aware that it was the inevitable outcome at the start of his training. He would likely have many more during this particular routine. As a "punishment" of sorts, each of the apples he had cut would be stored in a sack hanging from a tree nearby. The townsfolk of this village made a lovely hard apple cider, and the spirits would be pleased to see that the apples he was using for his training were not going to waste. He would not allow himself to eat any of the fruit until he had successfully cut each apple. After a few moments of collecting the apple pieces, he grabbed three more apples from the tree and set them down on his planks, resetting his training equipment.

Hijikata took a deep breath. The first failure served as a control. That let him know the benchmark he was at, and the level of success he experienced with each of the following tries would help him measure his level of growth through each repetition of the exercise. Now, he knew that with each additional apple cleanly sliced from this point on was a sign of the progress he was making. He would not settle for anything less. Taking a deep breath, he began again, the apples flying up into the air. Hijikata began cutting earlier this time, his blade flashing through the air to strike his targets.

One, Two, Three, Four-

He had managed to slice an extra apple on the second attempt, but Hijikata did not commend himself yet. Picking up the four halved apples, he inspected the smoothness of each cut. As he suspected, in his haste, the fourth cut, while fairly even, started from a diagonal angle and sweeped up to straight north. That was insufficient in his eyes, another failure. Placing all eight apple halves in the sack on the tree, he picked four more apples from the tree next to his training see-saw. Setting them down on each plank, he didn't immediately initiate the next attempt. Instead, both in his mind and with his body, he practiced the motion of slicing the four apples. It wasn't enough to simply brute force his way to the result he wanted. Hijikata had to be able to envision the result he was aiming for, and he had to reinforce that mental picture with emulating the movement itself.

Hijikata breathed in deeply and slowly exhaled. He would not focus on cutting additional apples until he had cleanly cut the first four as he intended. Trying to rush progress often created sloppy results. It would be better that he incrementally improve in ways that proved material over the long run. Keeping the mental image of his four cuts strongly in his mind, he prepared himself for the next attempt. Counting his heartbeats, Hijikata stomped on the plank, shooting the apples into the sky. With his eyes closed, Hijikata commenced with his first cut.

One, Two, Three, Four.

Opening his eyes, Hijikata surveyed his work. He was satisfied with his four cuts. All were even, perfectly vertical up the middle of the apples, split straight in half through the core. Taking the eight halves, Hijikata placed them in the sack for the brew-masters to recover after he was done. He hoped that they might provide him with a sip of the sweet hard apple cider they brewed. Jumping back up into the apple tree, Hijikata soon dropped down to the ground with four new apples in his arms. Setting the new apples on the planks, Hijikata sheathed his blade and sat on the ground, closing his eyes, yet again. Now that he had managed to cut four apples, he needed to push himself to cut five apples, obviously. But Hijikata was seeking to surpass his current limits, and mentality was a key part of that process. He started to envision the resulted he wanted, yet again, in his mind, repeating it over and over and over. Grasping that image firmly in his mind, Hijikata then stood and drew his sword and started moving through the motion needed to achieve that end result. He started slow at first, like a gentle breeze, guiding himself through the movement, measuring each cut, making sure they were perfectly straight. Eventually, he started to make them a little faster, increasing his speed incrementally. Evolving from a gentle breeze, his practiced movements eventually grew into a violent storm of wind and steel, the blade glinting every so slightly in the few rays of sunlight that poked through the foliage of the tree above him. He eventually stopped practicing the movement, opening his eyes and setting his foot on the plank. Focusing intently on the apples, Hijikata slammed his foot down on the wood plank, the apples flying up into the air. His blade soon followed, biting into the flesh of this fruit undeserving of his wrath.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five.

He didn't have to look at the fifth apple to realize he'd failed in cutting it precisely. The feel of the apple breaking against his blade and the soft crack of the flesh being rent instead of being cut told him enough. Walking over to the apples, Hijikata surveyed the damage. He was indeed pleased to see that the first four apples had been expertly cut straight up the middle. The fifth apple, however, had been unceremoniously ripped over. The lack of a clean cut indicated a flaw in his cutting technique. Speed meant little if it came at the expense of accuracy. The image of the result he was looking for still firmly in his mind, Hijikata sheathed his sword, scooped up the decimated apples, dropped them into the sack, and jumped back up into the tree to find five more apples. As he had already cut a significant number of apples up by this point, this part took him a bit longer to do than after previous attempts. Still, after about a minute of searching, he dropped down from the foliage of the tree with five more apples in hand. Setting each of the apples down on their respective planks, Hijikata drew his sword and returned to his previous position, his foot resting on the opposite side of the log from the apples themselves. Closing his eyes, Hijikata worked to focus even more intently on the image of the five apples being cleanly, perfectly sliced up the middle. Taking a few deep breaths, Hijikata stomped down on the planks, commencing the next attempt of this exercise. The apples flew up and:

One, Two, Three, Four, Five.

This time, the fifth apple was cut, but Hijikata wasn't certain that it was as he intended it to be. Often times, when training, his instinct would alert him to inconsistencies and remind him to double-check and triple-check his own work. This had always been for the best, as it assured that he didn't stop working, didn't stop training until he had completely mastered the concept he was striving to learn and teach himself. Walking over to the apple, as he suspected, his suspicions were confirmed: the cut formed an S-shape , entering from the top left, sweeping down through the center, and exiting out of the bottom right of the apple. Sheathing his blade in his scabbard and scooping up the apples yet again, Hijikata dumped them into the sack of apple-halves, now nearly three-fourths of the way full. He then disappeared into the leaves above, looking for more munitions for his training exercise.

After two minutes of searching this time, he returned with five apples more, setting them and the six apple on the plank. Moving back over to the other side of the log, with the mental image of what he wanted still firm in his mind, Hijikata stomped on the planks and launched the apples skyward. His blade flashed up to meet them.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five.

This time, Hijikata could tell that he had succeeded. He sensed no wavering when slicing through the fifth apple, just as he hadn't the first through the fourth. Surveying his work, he confirmed what his instincts told him. At his feet, he saw five perfectly split apples on the ground. Returning his trusty sword to his scabbard, Hijikata placed the apples halves into the nearly full sack for the village brew-masters before leaping up into the tree yet again, in hopes of finding additional apples. After roughly five minutes, Hijikata dropped down, five apples in his arms. He'd had to climb near the top of the tree to retrieve these apples, as Hijikata had already gathered most of the low-hanging fruits during his training. Now, he was finally onto the last portion of his training: cutting all six of the apples in one go. Setting the apples down on their respective launching planks, Hijikata returned to the opposite side of the log and sat down, closing his eyes and meditating intensely on how he wanted the last portion of his training to go. Taking more time than he normally would with this process, Hijikata tried to burn the very image of cutting six apples in one launch into his mind. It was certainly tough, but he had already cut five of the apples. He was only one apple away from achieving his goal: increasing the speed of his cuts without sacrificing accuracy. More than anything, he had to always hold the objective of the training in mind lest he become lost in rage or irritation. Only through intense focus, patience, and hard work would Hijikata improve himself. At long last, the image was planted solidly in his mind.

He thought to immediately begin the attempt, but something told him to practice first. Moving through the motion of cutting six apples would seem unnecessary at times, but it was always the small personal improvements Hijikata made to his exercises that had made him a rurouni capable enough of not only teaching a style, but of developing one himself. Taking one last deep breath, Hijikata slammed his foot down on the plank. The plank bent over the log and, for the last time for now, the apples went into the air. Sharpened steel pursued quickly, more quickly than any other cuts that Hijikata had managed up until now:

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six.

Despite not having directly practiced cutting six apples perfectly in half, all while they were still traveling through the air, the fact that Hijikata did so while not having prepared for that specific variation spoke volumes for the mental meditation on the movements he was trying to accomplish. Picking up the apple halves, he throws into the now almost overflowing apple sack. He kept a half for himself as he walked towards the brew-master's shop. He was certain that he could fetch a decent price for turning more supplies to make their wonderful hard apple cider.

[ShinobiTruth]

Stamina Training - 5 Points: 5151/5000.

Task 1: Dig the graves.

Hijikata had just gotten finished washing the blood off of the various areas where the bodies had been, the blood of the enemies having been washed away with water. His few wounds he had stitched and bandaged himself. He would have to have the doctor look at the cut on his shoulder when the villagers returned in the morning. It had taken a large portion of the day to gather and clean the enemies' weapons and armor. Once he'd taken a night to rest, he'd set about various tasks. Once the armor and weapons had been set aside in good order (he would leave them for the vilagers to arm themselves), there was but one more task he had to attend to: burying the bodies.

Donning his keiko gi and taking a shovel he'd found in the blacksmith's home, Hijikata entered the treeline several hundred yards away from the village walls. Looking around, he eventually found a large, spacious area. Having confiscated some gloves from the fallen warriors, all slain by his hand, and wrapping a cloth around his face, Hijikata got to work. With a fierce grip, the tip of the digging spade pierced into the dense forest soil. Focusing on using his legs and arms, Hijikata started to dig, tossing the torn up soil over to the side. He would have to complete this work as quickly as he could. If he waited too much longer, the bodies would become unsafe to handle without multiple people, and he was hoping to spare the children of the village the sight of bloated, decaying corpses when they returned to their homes.

After getting about a foot deep, he would dig outward, increasing the length of the hole. He was ultimately looking for the grave to be about three feet wide, six feet long, and six feet deep. What started out as a hole would soon turn into a shallow trench. The rhythm of his heartbeat and the sound of the shovel digging into the earth contrasted with the sounds of songbirds moving through the trees. They had been enemies, but the rurouni was glad he could provide them with appropriate burials. Continuing with his excavating, Hijikata dug out to the six feet before digging back across, essentially digging an outline for the first grave. The minutes stretched on, synchronizing his breathing with his movements, focusing on each muscle he was using to complete this grim work. Once he was done digging the outline, he would dig out the center that had, up until this point, been left untouched. Digging deep into the side of the slightly raised soil, he would bite into the forest floor deeply, lifting large scoops of soil and relocating them outside of his dig site. Within ten minutes he'd removed the first foot of topsoil.

It was with this guideline that Hijikata would start to dig the hole progressively deeper. Starting at one end of the shallow hole he'd dug, he'd pierce the tip of the digging spade into the soft earth beneath his feet before lifting up the exhumed earth and tossing it onto the mount pile of top soil that was beginning to build up as he progressed in his task. He made sure to toss the top soil in question a reasonable distance away. This served two functions. The first would be to ensure that he was always working with a clean environment, so to speak. Less loose soil in the grave meant less digging in the long run. Secondly, Hijikata knew that he would need to make use of the top soil to cover the bodies of the enemies that all fell by his blade. He needed to keep the soil that he was removing from the graves for this purpose. Even if they had been enemies, they deserved a peaceful slumber as their bodies were given back to the earth spirits. Before long, he'd dug own several more feet. He still had a ways to go, however, to ensure that even wandering scavengers would not earth up these bodies and desecrate them. That could cause evil spirits to inhabit the area, destroying the natural balance that was so vital.

Hijikata was four feet down into the ground. The earth was beginning to become a bit more dense. More energy was required to continue digging, as rocks and clay were more commonly present in the composition of the soil further down. He even had to dig around the occasional root every so often, further slowing his work. It also didn't help that the nature of the work caused some of his more significant wounds from the battle the night before to hurt, particularly his shoulder and his leg. Still, he pushed through the fatigue.

With each stroke, the tip of the shovel brought deeper darknesses to light, the slabs of earth becoming denser and heavier on his shovel. Tossing the dirt up and out of the hole, Hijikata jabbed small slots into the sides of the graves. This would make it easier for the man to climb out once he was finished. He was now five feet down. One more foot to go.

His shoulders were tense from exertion as Hijikata tilled the earth beneath his feet. The darkness of the earth around him seemed to be even more foreboding and grim in its presence now that it was nearly complete. Still, Hijikata focused only on the work. He knew that the spirits could read his heart. They would know his intents were pure for his intrusion into its embrace. With time, the already deep hole eventually crested the top of his head. The earth of the forest grew both colder and more damp as he pushed further down. Eventually, four inches later, Hijikata reached his goal. Reaching up and grabbing the lip of the grave, Hijikata pulled himself out and turned around. At his feet was one six foot deep, perfectly rectangular grave.

Putting the shovel over his shoulder, he moved five feet to the left and started digging again. one down, roughly thirty to go...

---

Task 2 - Burying the Soldiers/Archers

Thirty-three bodies lay before Hijikata, sheltered from the sun by the swaying trees of the forest, each one of the bodies stripped to its undergarments, covered in oil, and tightly wrapped in bandages. Hijikata had been forced to tend to his wounds from the battle first, as working with the dead lended itself to all sorts of uncleanliness. It would be easy for one to risk infection while working around decomposing corpses with open wounds. The reflexive evacuation of the bowels alone was a considerable source of filth and disease.

Having already tended to the most grisly of the work, preparing the bodies for their burial, now was the easier but more physically demanding part: carrying the bodies over to their freshly unearthed graves. The day was still young, and he needed to move quickly so as to prevent the sun and the summer heat from undoing his work. Reaching down, Hijikata grabbed the first two bodies and, considering his impressive strength, hoisted them over his shoulders. Despite being on the edge of the treeline, Hijikata still had a bit of a trek to make to reach the site of the graves. He had dug them further into the wooded area to lessen the likelihood that a child might stumble across their eternal resting places. He did not take this slowly, as time was of the essence. Rather, Hiji jogged his way past the treeline into the forest, checking his feet to make sure that he wasn't about to gash his foot open on some errant root or thorn seeking to further burden his day with difficulty. The journey from the start of the treeline to the site of the graves was roughly a half-mile. It wasn't a large distance, but the rugged underbrush and the added weight of two human bodies, however strong, certainly added to the challenge the task presented. Thankfully, smell wasn't a concern; the oils he'd used from the doctor's house were heavily perfumed.

After roughly two minutes of a brisk jog, Hiji came to a halt, having reached the grave site. Setting one of the bodies down gently on the ground (oni tended to attach more easily to those whose remains were treated without respect, tradition stated), Hijikata jumped into the first grave he'd prepared. Rolling the body from his shoulders into his arms, he bent his knees slightly and let the body slide down from his hands. It hit the ground with a slight bump. He was one man doing this whole work, and lowering the bodies on a stretcher was not possible without a second person. Hopefully, the spirits would understand.

Hijikata climbed out of the first grave and picked up the second body, jumping down into the next hole five feet over in like manner to the first. Laying the second soldier to rest, Hiji departed from the tomb and jogged back through the forest, a significantly easier task without the two bodies on his shoulders. Returning to the line of bodies at the edge of the forest, Hiji picked up the next two, gently slinging them over his shoulders before turning and jogging back through the forest. This process would inevitably repeat itself a number of times. With each pair of bodies, Hijikata's energy reserves drained a little more. The coming heat of the summer day did nothing to refresh him, a sweltering heat slowly creeping into the air all around him. At first, the forest served as a refuge, the dense tree cover providing some respite from the unforgiving sun. With each pass, however, the heat's reach slowly began to claw its way further into the cover of the trees. It wasn't long before sweat glistened his entire body.

He was halfway done with his task, but the weather continued to conspire against him. Though he thankfully was spared the full assault of the sun, the humidity of the plains by which the village sat was something else entirely. Though he'd sought to pace himself, Hiji had already exhausted his entire canteen of water by that point. The day was setting up to be a scorcher, and Hiji wasn't looking forward to it in the slightest. These were the smallest of the men that he was carrying, and though they were many, they in and of themselves were of little concern. Hijikata did not let himself slow down. On the contrary, the samurai pushed himself harder, looking to completed the task more quickly while still paying proper deference to the deceased whom he carried to their final resting place.

The minutes seemed to breeze by once he poured himself more fully into his task, the last two archers over his shoulders as he entered the treeline. His legs were a bit heavier than when he had started hauling the corpses to the burial plot, but he still had plenty of wind left in his lungs. The heat penetrating into the forest was another matter, as its oppressive presence sought to quickly drain his body of its energy. Pushing through, he hurried towards the comforting sensation of cooling shadows as he headed further into the trees. The underbrush sought to slow his progress and even cause him to fall, but he was having exactly none of it, his feet deftly maneuvering around or even stomping through the ground's feeble attempts to block his path.

Finally, Hijikata arrived to the long stretch of graves that he'd spent several hours digging. Kneeling to the ground, he lowered one of the bodies to the forest floor gingerly, shuffling over to the vacant hole in front of him and, swinging his legs over, dropped down into the grave. Kneeling down, Hiji swung the body forward and caught the back with his hand, slowly laying it to rest. Climbing out of the hole, he walked over and took the other soldier's wrapped corpse into hand and dropped down into the hole next to him. In like manner, Hiji carefully set the body down in the whole, the cool shadow sheltering him momentarily from the summer heat. Climbing back up, he looked at the row of twenty graves before turning back to the town. The captain's guards were next for burial, but they were large gentlemen. This would not be easy.

---

Task 3 - Burying the Captain's Personal Guard

Hijikata's body glistened with sweat, his long hear tied up in a high bun to prevent it from interfering with his work. He'd just finished taking care of laying the main part of the platoon in their early graves. Now, it was time for the last three men. All three had been skilled warriors in their own right. Though Hiji had proven their superiors, Hiji would take extra care to give them the proper warrior's burial they deserved. Taking the first of the two guards, much larger than the foot soldiers or archers before him, Hijikata carried the man wrapped in bandages slung over both of his shoulders, fireman carry style. He knew as soon as he felt the weight on his shoulders that he would not be able to hurry with this one. This would be a test of his endurance, the sweltering heat and the weight of his bloodguilt adding to the difficulty of his task.

Slowly trudging forward, Hijikata passed through the treeline. The shadows served only at a slight respite, the full force of the summer sun's influence still practically scorching him to the bone with its radiation. Undeterred, Hijikata continued forward, both seeking the relief the deeper sections of the woods near the burial plot would bring and a swift conclusion to the grim task at hand. He was close to being finished, and he knew that the spirits would observe whether he was diligent or lacksidasical in his fulfillment of this work, however unpleasant it was. His industriousness in this endeavor would make it less likely than any of the kami would seek vengeance from him for mistreating their lands or their bodies.

About half way through his journey to the burial plot, Hiji began to feel soreness in his shoulders. He marveled at how large and strong this warrior had been. He could tell that this had been no ordinary warrior. The amount of training the man had done showed even after death, his shoulders protesting against the weight of the man and his muscles. Truly, he had been blessed by the spirits with a strong body. Though Hiji had taken no pleasure in ultimately dispatching him and his brother, it did leave the samurai with a grim sense of contentment knowing that his swordsmanship had been sufficient enough to fell what essentially amounted to two small giants.

Reaching the burial plot, Hiji solidly walked towards the three larger graves exhumed at the rear of the grave formations, in front of where their captain would lay in rest with them. The teacher would not be able to slowy drop down into the grave. Instead, he would have to brace himself and jump into the six foot deep hole. Breathing in and slowly exhaling, Hijikata braced himself before jumping, feeling his feet land solidly on the ground below, the shock traveling up his legs. He ignored the pain, crouching slightly and rolling the corpse up over his shoulders into his arms in front of him before quickly setting him down with some effort. Satisfied, he climbed out of the hole and walked at a steady pace back towards the town, towards the wall of heat as he readied himself to bring his brother in arms to rest with him. The other spearman was just as large and blessed as his partner had been. Hiji ignored the droplets of sweat that had begun to form on his brow as he approached the second corpse.

At last he arrived at his destination, a solitary cloud briefly blocking out the sun and providing an extra source of relief in the form of a cool breeze. Hiji knew that if he took a break now, he would not finish his work before nightfall. He had to push forward, to endure the fatigue and exhaustion to get this work done. Hoisting the second spearman over his shoulders, he turned and slowly trudged towards the burial plot with the second half of the captain's guard in tow, Hiji eager to reunite him with his companion in death as they were in life. It would be quite ironic if the two of them had secretly hated each other, but Hijikata, his mind ever simple, preferred to think they were true brothers in arms. That sentiment did little to distract from the slow drain that his task and the unrelenting heat was putting on his energy reserves. Pacing himself, he continued his controlled march towards the grave site.

The second trip through the forest was both easier and more difficult at the same time. As he'd already walked the path he'd created a number of times carrying at least twenty bodies , the path was already trodden down, the fauna and dead branches having been stomped into submission. The day's activities, however, were beginning to take their toll on the samurai. His parched lips cried out for water in thirst, and he was dripping sweat by this point, his keiko gi drenched from his constant persiration. Hiji could even feel the perspiration dripping down his legs onto his feet. He had to finish the rest of his tasks as quickly as he could.

Finally, he reached the burial plot, and, much like the fellow guard that had already been laid in his prepared grave, Hiji walked to the equally sized plot right next to it. Taking another deep breath and exhaling deeply, Hiji dropped into the pit, the shock shooting up his legs. Gritting his teeth, Hiji bent down and slowly rolled the corpse off of his shoulders onto the ground, the covered body now laid to rest. Reaching up to grab the lip of the grave, Hiji pulled himself up, getting to his feet and turning to survey his work. He was close to being finished. He had one more body that he had to bring to its tomb: the captain. Thinking of the man made Hiji's wounds ache. His warrior spirit had indelibly marked his body. The man that had been closest to defeating him deserved his final rest the most.

---

---

Task 4 - Laying the Captain to Rest

Hiji knelt down before the captain, his body having been prepared for burial with the finest oils and perfumes he could find in the village, wrapped in clean banadges. While the foot soldiers and archers had been stripped of their armor, the captain's armor and sword had been saved. His loyalty to his lord had been fulfilled even unto death. Hiji would honor the man by assuring that he would retain his glory in the afterlife. The heat continued to pound down against Hijikata's lithe frame as he commenced with the ritual. By praying over the captain of these fallen, he prayed over all those who served under him. Despite how much energy he had already expended, and how taxing the sun's heat beating down on him was, Hiji began the ritual.

All of Hijikata's haste and preparations with the rest of the soldiers had been for this moment. This was not a ceremony that could be rushed. The spirits would be greatly displeased if he was sloppy or lacked a genuine heart in the performance of his duties. The spirits valued life above all else, and the taking of life, even in self-defense, was no small matter to the spirits that dwelled all around them. Visceral, violent death could disturb their peace and harmony, human imperfection and hatred tainting their pure existences. They, in turn, could become vengeful spirits or even oni, terrorizing the land and its inhabitants, both human or otherwise. Thus, it was with parched lips, tired eyes, and skin dripping with sweat that Hiji performed the squadron's last rights.

Even some from his own country would call him mad for the level of reverence that Hiji held for the spirits and for the sense of obligation he held for his opponents. Hiji was well aware of the impracticality of such a viewpoint, and he was most certainly conscious of the implications it could have on his own mortality. Despite this, he found that, while difficult, the experiences offered a liberating, cleansing effect, relieving the wandering warrior of an otherwise burdened conscience. It was as if the darkness caused by the blood on his hands was washed away with the sweat trickling down his chest and back, his soul expelling the refuse along with the contaminants from his skin. As he sat in front of the corpse, folding the now flattened pieces of armor into a large bundle with a fine silk fabric, even as his energy waned, his spirits lifted.

At last, after much ritual, ceremony, and a considerable amount of chanting, Hijikata bowed over the body. With both arms looping underneath the bandaged corpse, he lifted him up, his armor, helmet, and sword all resting atop him. With a slow procession, turning to the woods, Hijikata started walking towards the burial plot in utter silence. His entire body ached from the strain of today's activities. Burying what amounted to an entire platoon of soldiers in a single day had required every ounce of energy he'd spent up to this point, and his muscles protested against the continued abuse. Hijikata willed himself through the fatigue. He would not allow himself to fail in this sacred duty. Should he meet a similar fate, he would hope that the one that killed him would give him a similar honor even after death. It was only just that he should treat others as he wished to be treated himself, even at the cost of his own stamina.

Despite the crushing heat, Hiji's perserverance was rewarded with a cool breeze as he continued to slowly march through the forest. The refreshing gust of air spurned him onward, his feet planting firmly into the cool underbrush of the woods as the one man funeral procession took its course. He was already halfway through the woods, but the heat from the summer sun had only just now begun to fade. Now that the heat was gone as a distraction, however, the pain and soreness of the samurai's muscles were more pronounced. His legs threatened to give out under the weight, visibly shaking under the strain of the day's work without rest, but Hijikata would have none of it. If he fell, he would disgrace his own honor and that of his family. He knew the spirit of his sword would be especially ashamed of him, considering exactly what exactly the sword had given him. On his life as a swordsman, he would finish this ritual.

He arrived at the captain's final resting place, the ranks of his platoon members resting in the shadows, a single beam of light shining down from above. Each step towards the grave tested his patience. It was clearly evident that Hiji was exhausted, and to a degree, it was sheer force of will that was keeping him up. Despite all of this, the grim-faced samurai kept on. He viewed this moment as an opportunity to strengthen himself and prove his faith. Coming to a stop directly to the side of the grave, Hijikata dropped down as gently as possible into the hole. Setting down the captain with all of the grace he could muster, Hijikata made certain to arrange the bundled armor, helmet, and sword atop his corpse. The helmet was laid above the man's head. The majority of the armor would remain bundled within the fine silk wrapping, allowing the man to access it quickly in the afterlife. Lastly, the sword was laid underneath the bundle of armor, close to the man's hands. True to his heritage as a samurai, just as he was born with a sword by his side, he would be buried with one in his hands. Each step was done slowly, deliberately, as the burial rites mandated. Any haste or rushing of the ceremony would anger the spirits.

Pulling himself back up out of the hole, Hijikata looked down and surveyed his work. Exhaling deeply, he nodded from behind weary eyes. Good. When his worthy opponent woke up on the other side, he would be resplendant in the honor and glory he reflected in life. Now, there was only one task left: eternalize their slumber by burying them.

---

Task 5 - Burying the Captain and his Soldiers[/i]

Not skipping a beat, Hijikata picked up the spade and moved over to one of the several piles of tilled earth that he had just exhumed earlier that day. Though his muscles were already heavy with fatigue, he could feel the weight from his soul lifting with each shovel full of dirt that he dumped to cover the fallen soldiers, all felled by his hand. With sweat and with earth, he would clean himself of his bloodguilt, but only if he finished this task without rest. Only by exhausting himself completely and utterly, body, mind, and soul, would he be freed from the misery he'd been forced to spread. Their families would have peace, at least over time, and he would also be at peace. Even if the spirits somehow turned vengeful, they would not be able to haunt him directly, or so his faith told him.

Thankfully, covering the bodies was significantly easier than exhuming the tightly packed dirt. Thus, one grave was half way done just after a few minutes. However, Hijikata stopped for a moment and stepped back down into the grave, spending a few minutes to stomp down the tilled earth, packing it underfoot to make sure it was firm and walkable. His enemies would be secure in their final resting places. Once all of the loose dirt was packed down and secured, Hijikata would climb back out. The methodical echoes of the spade digging into dirt and the light pitter-patter of the dirt hitting the insides of the cavities in the earth were the only things that broke the silence of the forest. It seemed that even the songbirds and the creatures of the trees were content to observe his work in relative silence.

The first grave, after about fifteen minutes or so, was done, the first of many soldiers to be, at last, entombed in the earth and prepared for their return to the planet. It was quite easy to look at the graves yet to be properly filled and become disheartened. Thus, Hijikata determined he would only focus on the grave that he was presently working on completing. After a short pause, he resumed his work, stabbing his spade into the large mound of dirt to begin the filling of the next hole filled with the morbid results of his defense of innocent villagers.

Hijikata reflected on the surprise he felt knowing that whichever lord these men had served had not sent scouts to look for them. Perhaps the warlord that had sought to conquer their land and home had been bested by the Daimyo's forces? He couldn't say for certain. Hijikata maintained a steady pace. The wandering teacher was keeping a brisk speed not only for the sake of fulfilling the requirements of these funeral rites, but he also was doing so to have more time to prepare the villagers for an imminent counterattack. Thus, Hijikata had the work down to a process, practically automatic in nature. It both helped him keep focus and helped him minimize his energy usage. He was already almost completely drained from the day's tasks, and the only solace he had right now was the day giving way to the evening and the temperature difference between the inside of the forest and the plains.

His entire body was past merely being sore at this point. It felt like the man was wearing a body suit made of metal, his limbs were so drained. He had little left to sweat, as now, his fingers began to tingle and his hands started to shake from the exertion. Pushing through the discomfort, Hijikata quickly made his way through a large number of the graves in just two hours. The oppressive heat of the summer day continued to slowly wane, and a slight, consistent cool breeze began to waft through the trees as the light of the sun slowly dimmed. Despite the initial relief this brought, the sudden chill that followed made the already grim task even more unpleasant, as the inordinate warmth of the summer day gave way to a surprising cold in the night. The roar of thunder in the distance alerted Hijikata to a new requirement for his task: he had to complete the burials before the rain started.

Pushing his already fatigued body well past its normal limits, Hijikata soldiered on, completing all but the twin spear guards' and the captain's graves by the time the sun was completely set A sliver of moonlight, soon threatened to be snuffed out by the clouds of the thunderstorm as he began. Both fighting against his fatigue and now against the chill of the oncoming storm, Hijikata quickly made work of the first guard's grave, taking the time to properly stamp the dirt down until it was hard packed. As soon as he was done with the first guard, Hijikata moved on to the second guard's tomb. His goal being so close in sight spurned Hijikata on with a controlled hand, steadying the shaking that threatened to rattle him to his very bones.

The moonlight was mostly gone by the time he began the captain's tomb. The sound of thunder was much closer now, his eyes picking up the radiating light from lightning strikes within the clouds. There was thankfully still plenty of dirt left, but he still had to move fast. If he did not finish before the rain, the rest of the earth would be washed away, and the captain would be dishonored with a shallow grave. The first three feet of dirt were finally packed down, and Hijikata quickly jumped out of the grave to continue the final part of this grisly task. It was practically perfect timing; as Hijikata stamped down the final patch of dirt into the ground, the moonlight disappeared. With a mighty, thunderous clap and flash of lightning, the rain came down in torrents, cleansing the sweat, dirt, and grime from his body even as he trudged his way back to the village. His final duty to the dead had been done. Now, he had to tend to the living.

[ShinobiTruth]

Taijutsu Training - 5 Points: 5035/5000

Day One - Spear Fishing

The sun shone down upon the land, cotton white clouds and a warm breeze balancing the sky's fire into a pleasant and cozy balance of warmth and chill. Hijikata currently stood in his under wrappings, standing up to his knees in rapidly flowing water. In his hand, he held a sharpened wooden stick, a makeshift spear he'd perhaps spent a little more time on than necessary, but Hijikata demanded a high level of quality from his work. Shoddy swordsmanship led to a short life.

As part of his agreement to stay in the village and teach their children the basics of the sword, Hijikata had asked to be allowed to fish with the men and catch his own share of food. The elder had chuckled at the notion, readily agreeing. Despite his derision, the man had been at least kind enough to warn Hijikata of the extraordinarily agile fish. Despite the strong counter-currents, they often would easily twist and spin in the water, avoiding all but the most skilled of fishermen. Though he would have preferred a more respectful warning, Hijikata took it for what it was and prepared himself.

Hoisitng the large javelin over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed in focus, looking below the surface of the crystal clear waters. There were fish aplenty, but Hijikata mimicked the other skilled fishermen around him. They chose their targets carefully, and they struck swiftly. Hijikata's eyes caught one smaller fish, seeming to struggle against the current. Though he loathed striking down a clearly weaker opponent, necessity dictated that he do so. With speed and strength giving testamony to his skill as a swordsman, the tip of the spear crashing into the river. What happened next almost flabberghasted the samurai, as the fish seemed to suddenly curve to the left of his speartip so forcefully that it caused a small splash above itself. Almost as if to mock him, it swam a quick circle around his spear before shooting up through the river.

As opposed to blindly flailing for the next fish, Hijikata scrutinized why he had failed. Clearly, he'd underestimated the speed and the slender profile of the fish, but there was more to it. Taking the speartip and momentarily submerging it, Hijikata realized that the water distorted his vision of whatever was underneath it, creating a distortion effect. Hijikata would have to adjust his aim so as to be more accurate. It would require a higher level of hand-eye coordination than normal.

Raising his spear over his shoulder once more, Hijikata searched for his next prospective meal. For ten minutes, he stood as a statue, only his eyes moving to and fro across the surface of the water. Eventually, his eyes settled on a fish almost identical to the other fish that had escaped his grasp. Remembering the lesson he'd just learned from his first failure, Hijikata readied his spear to strike once again. He did not allow the fish's apparent sloth to deceive him. He had witnessed the fish's speed. He would not underestimate the creature again. In a moment of intense focus, he lashed out again, his spear flashing into the clear waters.

The fish evaded, but there was progress. He felt the tip of his spear clash against the scales on the fish's side, and as the fish swam away, the fish's blood eeked out, a slight red trail forming in the water before disappearing. Hijikata nodded. He had learned much over the first two attempts. He was on the right track for how to adjust his aim and compensate for the refraction of the fish's shape in the water, but he had undershot his blow. He would not miss again.

Some of the men had already caught several fish, and there was some harmless laughter at Hijikata's expense, which he did not mind. He could tell that these men had worked together for many years. Joyful, ribbing banter was their commonplace talk. It was an expression of their camraderie and respect for each other, a sign of the depth of their friendship. Even if it was joking at his ineptitude with their style of fishing, it was nice they at least thought to include him instead of ignoring him. His eyes focusing intently on the water, Hiji scanned for his next prey. Many of the larger fish were ignored by the samurai. Though they were an easy source of food, they would not help him improve. Besides, the larger fish were generally older, and their flesh was not as flavorful as those of their younger kin. It was the reward they had for avoiding death in youth: living out their elder years in peace. After almost twenty minutes of waiting, a commotion arose further up the river, the men clamoring and striking out at the water. All of them cursed profusely, a clear indication that none of their shots were landing true. Because of its unique coloring, Hiji saw the fish coming from further away. Jet black scales were clearly visible as the fish darted through the water, easily evading the trained spears of the other men in the village before him. In passing with the other fishermen, Hiji had heard of this fish; they were quite rare, and their flesh was said to have such deep, rich flavor that they did not need to be salted when they were cooked.

It was admittedly difficult not to jump at the opportunity, like the other men, but Hiji remained calm and patient. He would only have one chance to strike, and the more still he was before the strike, the better. The black streak quickly made its way into the fringes of Hiji's range, but he paused a moment longer. It was wiser to wait until the fish was about to pass right in front of him to strike. The moment came, and with a flurry of movement, the speartip slipped effortlessly into the water.

He felt the spear tip make purchase and bite into the flesh, running the amphibious creature through. Many of the men were stunned that an outsider had managed to catch one of their fish, let alone the most agile and sought after of them. Still, they were, all in all, a good-spirited bunch, offering a few claps and hollers of approval at his success. Momentarily stepping out of the water, Hiji stored the fish in a satchel before jumping back into the water. There was still more fish to catch before dinner was taken care of for tonight.

---

Day Two - Deer Hunting

The cold season months were soon to be upon them. Hijikata's clothing was modest, and while they did a good job for keeping them warm, he would need some warmer clothing, at least a cloak, along with plenty of dried, non-perishable rations to last him through the autumn and winter months. Not to mention he would need them for his inevitable journey to other colder climates. Hiji had learned of a multitude of traditional styles of swordsmanship that he wished to study and learn. He anticipated that they would be essential in the further development of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu. As such, he was fortunate that this village primarily sustained itself on hunting and gathering. However, as with the fishing, the prey were cautious, agile, and fleeting. His accuracy would further be tested, both by their capabilities and the natural cover provided by the dense trees and foliage of their natural habitat.

Hiji followed the customs of the village, donning a peculiar style of garment that appeared to camouflage them. They'd also used a series of dyes, paints, and charcoal ash to paint his face in patterns that would further add to the illusion. They set out early in the morning and waited as the dew slowly evaporated in the climbing late summer heat. Much of this task was not only physically demanding, but also mentally. Hiji had taken for granted the level of work it regularly took for these humble people to provide for their families and village until now. He wondered how much his own parents had struggled to provide for him. He would leave this village with a newfound humility and respect for those who took on this demanding, menial work

They set down in their respective locations and waited. The minutes dragged on into hours like molasses, the sun slowly creeping out of the horizon and beginning its climb. The heat in the woods rose with the sun, and it wasn't long before clear beads of sweat formed over every man's body in the hunting group. Hijikata was no exception. It wasn't until about noon that a telltale rustling of leaves signaled the arrival of a deer. There were three: a buck, a doe, and a fawn. Hiji couldn't help but marvel at the sight; typically, after the fawn's birth, the male departed and left the offspring with the mother. To see what appeared to be a cohesive family unit in deer was a foreign sight to the samurai.

Following the calls of his fellow hunters, Hijikata silently rose to one knee and hoisted the javelin over his shoulder, as did the rest. They had explained that they only hunted the bucks. The does and fawns were to be left unharmed. This would allow the fawns to grow to adulthood and be a continual source of food for the villagers. Hijikata took aim... but it was difficult. Aside from the position he was kneeling in, there were also a large number of trees and vines in the way which could interfere with the shot. He had to be more accurate than he was before with the fish. Hiji waited for the hand signal. He saw the sign out of the corner of his eye and threw the javelin, one in a rain of sharpened wooden throwing spears. Hijikata watched out his spear seemed to start off straight, but even the slightest nudge against one of the many hanging vines could throw his aim hopelessly askew. Though the buck was struck down and the doe and fawn fled into the woods, Hijikata's javelin, as he found, was caught and stopped by the vines, never making it to the target. He had to commend the villagers here. They were both strong and accurate. The animal hadn't had time to cry out before its heart was pierced. Though the buck was large, they'd need at least two more today before they would fill their quota. And thus began a several mile long hike, short two men who were taking the deer back to the village. There, they would gut the beast, skin it, butcher it, and begin furnishing the meat, hides, organs, and bones for various purposes.

After arriving at their second location, they hunkered down and lay still. Hijikata was concerned that they might have to wait a longer amount of time for their next quarry, but they were fortunate. Not fifteen minutes after arriving, a buck, along now with three does, one heavily pregnant, and two fawns would step into view. Raising to one knee, Hijikata prepared his javelin. He would take the lesson he'd learned about his need for accuracy from the first throw to heart. There were just as many vines here as there were at the last location. He would need pinpoint accuracy to make sure his javelin landed. He searched for a path through the vines and spotted one. He focused intently on that spot and very carefully, simulated the throw with some minimal motion so as not to attract the animal's attention. The signal was given, and Hijikata loosed the javelin. The wooden spear started out true, spinning gracefully past the first two vines. The third vine, however, hit the side of the throwing spear, knocking it slightly off course. Though he was fortunate enough to land a blow on the second buck, it was superficial. The other hunters thankfully had truer aim, and they felled the creature, leaving the mother and offspring to survive another day.

Hiji and the remaining mean, once again two weaker, began to move towards the third location. En route, however, an opportunity, and a final test for Hiji, presented itself. Another buck, larger than the others, all on its own, stood grazing among several trees, even more vines hanging between the hunters and their prey. If they scored this kill, they could end the hunt early. Only one could proceed forward so as not to scare the animal, and Hiji volunteered. Processing what he'd learned from his previous two failures. The point he focused on was even smaller this time. He'd have to kill the animal in one go, lest the deer alert other potential prey and scare them off. Breathing in and exhaling slowly, Hiji threw the javelin. The lessons from his previous attempts paid their dividends. The javelin spun seamlessly between five different sets of vines and plunged itself deep into the deer's heart, killing it instantly.

It was with a satisfied grin that Hijikata helped carry that third deer home. The hunters certainly appreciated the surprisingly short hunting day he'd won them.

---

Day 3 - Honey Gathering

Considering the last two days, Hijikata had been expecting another hunting trip. Things seemed to be swinging that way when they handed him a recurve bow and some freshly tipped arrows. However, he began to suspect something was different about this trip when most of the villagers joined them, and as they arrived towards their destination, Hijikata heard the unmistakable sound of bees. The inhuman flapping of their wing foils seemed to drown out the noise of the other animals in the area. Needless to say, this would yet again be another day of firsts.

As they arrived, Hijikata was astonished to find that they would be harvesting the honey, not from hives in trees or from manufactured hives. No, as he broke the tree line, one of the villagers tapped him on the shoulder and pointed up toward a large cliff face that towered over them. Inevitably some of the honeycomb would break off and fall to the ground. The children, armed with smokers and torches, were charged with smoking the bees to sleep with a strange burning plant and retrieving the combs. The bees would eventually regain consciousness and return to the hive. The men were charged with climbing up the mountain face, but as Hiji prepared himself for the task, the village elder placed a kind hand on his shoulder and explained that he could not. This task was not merely for helping the village but a rite of passage for young men as well, sacred for their people. Instead, he was being offered the honor of joining the women in igniting the arrows and shooting the small bushes that grew several meters beneath the large hives hanging from the cliff. Though he readily accepted whatever they would allow him to do, he was admittedly confused why something so mundane as shooting an arrow would be considered an honor... until he saw one of the woman shoot the bow. It seemed that each of the women were responsible for lighting several bushes... and boy howdy, were they excellent marksmen. Without nary a second thought, the first woman nocked an arrow and released it, the flaming projectile arcing beautifully to bury itself into the bush, setting it aflame. Hiji watched as each one sequentially shot another bush. Soon, it would be his turn. The village elder stood behind him, bow at the ready. Should Hiji fail, his men would suffer no harm.

Hiji had some experience with a bow, but he'd never made a shot such as this before. Taking one of the flaming arrows, he nocked the arrow upon the drawstring and pulled. He felt the wind in his hair and used its movement to determine the current wind strength and direction. He felt uneasy about this shot, but delaying any further would only make things worse. He released the shot, and at first glance, things seemed to be going well. However, as the arrow traveled through the air, it became clearer that he overshot his target by a fair margin. Though the arrow did ultimately fall into the targeted bush, its flame was long since extinguished. The samurai took note of the sudden flare of the fire-tipped arrow leaving the elder's bow, landing true. Hijikata nodded. He'd had too much power in that shot and not enough control. He would make the needed adjustments for the next shot.

Waiting his turn, Hijikata focused on his next target, simulating in his mind the desired result he sought. The wind strength and direction was remaining constant, so he thankfully didn't have to adjust his shot for any other environmental factors. He simply needed to ease up on the power and let the bow do the work. Accuracy was what he wanted, not power. Looking up back at the bush that was to be his next objective, he readied himself for the shot. Three women were still before him even as he took the flaming arrow in hand. The first one shot as he nocked the arrow, her target quickly smoldering as it caught fire: a perfect shot. The second woman loosed her arrow as he drew back his drawstring. Her aim was also impeccable, the arrow beautifully twisting through the air before disappearing into a large bush on the cliff side. The third young lady released her projectile as Hijikata took aim. He didn't see where her shot went, but he was certain, like all the others, her arrow had found its target. With a greater sense of certainty, he released the arrow. The shot was certainly closer than other shots he'd made before, but his arrow was still a bit over where he wanted it to be. Due to where it landed, however, it quickly fell into the bush, and the foliage caught fire. He could hear the relaxing of the elder's bowstring as they both observed the fire starting on his bush.

Still, this was not enough for Hijikata. These people had honored him by allowing him to participate in this holy ritual. He would not allow another to do his work for him. There was one more bush, and it just so happened that it was one of the young boys taking this trial to qualify for manhood. Breathing deeply, Hijikata focused intently on the third target. He felt his hair moving in the wind. Good, the wind speed was... No. No, the wind speed was not the same. Something had changed, shifted, ever so slightly. The wind was weaker than it had been earlier. The direction had also changed slightly, moving away from the cliff to the east. Taking his bow, Hijikata readied himself for his final shot. Once again, he waited his turn, preparing his shot as each of the other women loosed their final arrow into the sky. At last, his time arrived, and without a second thought, Hijikata loosed the arrow from his bow. He watched the flaming projectile spin elegantly through the azure sky and find its home in the heart of the dense, verdant foliage on the cliff, quickly engulfed by the fires of man.

Bowing slightly to all of the women, Hijikata turned to face an impressed village elder before bowing to him as well. It seemed that, though through unorthodox methodology, Hijikata was growing stronger with each passing day in this village.

---

Day 4 - Drawing Water

At this point, nothing surprised Hijikata.

When the village men had asked him to help draw water for their irrigation, he once again thought nothing of it, despite the fact that he probably should have known better after the last three days he'd spent helping the villagers with their tasks. On the bright side, he realized before he got outside of the village this time that this work, much like the others before it, would likely be much more complex than he would normally expect from a job so inane and simplistic. Sure enough, once he arrived, he could see why they had invited him to assist with this task... aside from the fact that he'd agreed to help with all of their labor in exchange for free lodging.

Their objective was a well on the other side of a ravine. Though the bridge to that well was not particularly long, as each man started to walk towards the bridge, the samurai rapidly came to understand that they did not wait for each other to finish crossing before the next one would progress, all in very close and tight fashion. What resulted from this particular exercise was a long train of men walking across a constantly swaying plank bridge. The fact that the bridge could handle the weight of so many at once was a testament to the craftsmen of long ago that had made it. It also presented a unique challenge... and a unique opportunity to train his coordination. And he wasn't about to get better by taking baby steps.

Taking a long bar with two empty pails attached to each end, Hijikata took his place in line. Soon, it was his turn, and as he stepped out onto the bridge, at first, it felt surprisingly solid. As they progressed out towards the middle of the bridge, however, where the winds were stronger, the bridge began to swing and sway. Hijikata had to quickly start adjusting his balance with every single step so as not to send himself, or anyone else, plummeting down into the ravine. By the time they were half-way out on the bridge, each step was a trial, a guess of instinct and desperate coordination, to keep moving forward. And he could not slow down, lest he condemn those behind him to a grisly fate. Amidst his intense focus and mild panic, he observed those in front of him and marveled at how calmly and casually they walked this chaotic bridge. They all swayed in the same direction, but they seemed not the slightest bit fazed by the happenings around them. What was their secret? Hijikata did not know the answer by the time he crossed the bridge. Grateful to be back on solid ground but well aware his return to the same bridge would be swift, Iwamaru rapidly analyzed everything he'd seen and experienced up until that point to try and deduce the secret to the villagers' stability on what appeared to be a few inches of wood and rope between their feet and a fatal free fall. What was it?

As he drew water from the well, what amounted to a long, deep trench which allowed many to lower their pails into it to pull the mineral-rich liquid from the underground aquifer, he focused on their posture first. Perhaps that was it. Hijikata had been trying to alter his posture to compensate for his shaky center of gravity, but perhaps he needed to simply relax. As he approached the bridge a second time, he straightened and relaxed his posture as he started walking across the bridge. It worked, for a time, but once again, as they reached the very center of the bridge, where the shaking and swinging was at its most violent, Hijikata struggled, and he was so close to falling over at one point that he made a slight hop to self-correct. Clearly, he wasn't getting everything he needed to. What else was he missing? Crossing the bridge for the first time, he set down the bar with the full pails of water and picked up another empty one, immediately turning back towards the bridge. As he approached for the third time, he watched the others going before him, looking further ahead to those alread at the middle, and he realized that, aside from one major point, the men at the middle were no different than those at the far ends of the bridge:

They were tilting their bodies so their feet remained planted on the bridge. Taking this vital detail into account, Hijikata began his third trip across the bridge. As the bridge continued to sway, Hiji attempted to tilt his body with the swaying of the bridge. It worked, though not entirely; the amount of pressure it put on his core was considerable. The other men, though they were not as physically strong as Hiji was, found it effortless. Perhaps they had to perform the shift in their body's positioning in tandem with each other? Making his way across the bridge a third time, he filled the pails over his shoulders and headed back. Testing his theory, instead of focusing on the bridge, he focused on the man in front of him. As he tilted, so did Hijikata, in the exact same fashion, just a half of a second later. Sure enough, he found his answer: despite how widely the bridge swayed, the samurai found himself walking as normally as he would be on solid ground. He wanted to celebrate, but to do so would cost him his focus and his life. He kept his position in the line of men as he very finely controlled the tilting of his body, eventually making it all the way back to the other side. "You learn quick, swordsman," the man behind him complimented.

"Thank you," the teacher offered simply in return. He knew that to waste time chatting would detract from this valuable training. Now that he understood the premise of the movement, he would seek to master it... and he could only do that through more grueling practice.

---

Day 5 - Spear Fishing

Back to this again. Hijikata had grown much personally, almost as much as he felt his students had grown in their first week of instruction. In just a short ten minutes of fishing, Hijikata had already caught two of the rare black fish. He stood motionless, waiting for one more. The day was hot, and the small cold rapids of the river soothed the many hot bodies currently fishing in its refreshing waters. He'd already spent an hour to catch those two fish. The men marveled at the samurai's good fortune. A fisherman was lucky to see one of those fish in these waters in a week.

A loud exclamation from the other fisherman further upstream alerted Hijikata to the coming of another target. The manner in which the men gaped and furiously struck at the water was abnormal, even for such a prize. It surely had to be a very fine catch to usher such an impulsive reaction from these train fishermen. Sure enough, one of the men stabbed at the fish, and the creature, so large and powerful, shot from the water to avoid it. The fish was monstrous, over two and a half feet long, scales darker than the blackest of raven's feathers... and it was headed his way. This fish, if Hijikata managed to catch it, would serve as a fine meal on its own. The other two black scaled fish he'd caught could be cooked, dried, and preserved with salt for the road. It wasn't just a matter of improving his physical prowess; he had some skin in the game, same as the other men. He thought for a moment to simply leave it to the other men out of a sense of altruism, but he remembered that he had a right to fish in these waters so long as he taught here. He would exercise that right to help advance his cause.

Hijikata drew off of everything he had learned this past week, particularly his first time fishing. Remaining calm, poised, and still, Hijikata kept a close eye on the water near his feet. He would only have a split second to strike. If he missed, the biggest catch of his time here would slip through his fingers. A flash of black entered his vision, and with pinpoint accuracy, Hijikata's spear pierced the water with nary a sound. The satisfying thud of his spear piercing aquatic flesh hit his ears. Pulling the spear from the water, the behemoth was beaten. Into the bag he went. The men of the village stared in shock at the man who, a week ago, could barely fish with a spear as he grabbed the satchel and walked back towards the village. Of course, Hiji had other more pressing concerns on his mind.

Like dinner.

[ShinobiTruth]

Stamina Training - 5 Points: 5189/5000

Day One - Plowing Fields for Seeding

The weight of the yoke was unfamiliar, if not negligible, as it rest upon Hijikata's shoulders, the field before him yet untouched by the hands of man. This style of plowing was new to Hijikata; in the village where he was born and raised, each family grew food for their own family. As such, each family plowed and tilled the earth by hand with tools in place of using beasts of burden. This family's beast had recently died, and they were still in the process of purchasing a new animal with which to sustain their livelihood. Per his arrangement for room and board while he taught at the dojo in this town, he was to help the family with preparing for their next planting, a work he readily obliged.

Gripping the sides of the yoke, he looked back momentarily to make sure that the large blades were firmly planted in the ground. Seeing they were, Hiji started his work, walking forward and pushing against the tension of the yoke. The ground could not stand against his strength, the blades overturning the soil as he progressed forward. With each deliberate step, the blades continued to move forward in the firm, rich soil, bringing a dark brown bed of dirt in which food could grow and thrive. One step quickly became ten, ten became twenty, and within a few minutes time, Hijikata had covered half the length of the field he was to plow, roughly fifty meters.

The weather was compliant, a cool breeze and modest cloud cover granting the samurai periods of respite. With that said, Hijikata started to feel the burn about seventy meters into his first stretch. He saw other farmers to either side, and their beasts, though only as fast as he was, seemed to barely notice the tension that was so prominent on his shoulders. Hijikata often found himself having a deeper respect for the natural world with each of his training exercises, and this was no exception. From the agile fish to the stoic, powerful bull, nature did an outstanding job of teaching lessons to those observant and humble enough to learn them. Still, he had to focus. With another push, Hiji finished the first 100 meter push. Removing the yoke from his shoulders, he walked over to the large row of blades and lifted them by the wooden log they were attached to. Pulling the blades from the ground, Hijikata moved the blades to the other half of the field he was plowing, setting them in the opposite direction before stomping the blades into the ground. Then, re-positioning himself in front of said blades, Hiji returned the yoke to its place upon his shoulders and, with a firm step forward, resuming his work.

Though it was the same distance, this section took a bit longer to start. The previous section, while not difficult to till, had been quite long, and he'd expended a considerable amount of energy on that one portion of the task. Still, he would not allow this job to go unfinished. Hiji had sworn that he would complete the work that had been set before him, and he would not allow his word to be tarnished or considered empty or vain. The blades continued to slowly and faithfully till and rend the earth asunder, exposing the fertile underbelly the soil had to offer to its human masters. Sweat began to form and run down Hijikata's back. He was approximately one fourth of the way done with the second portion of this field he'd been charged with preparing for the humble farmers who had opened their home to him. Hiji could feel the fatigue continue to creep into his muscles as he slowly trudged ahead, the smell of freshly torn, damp soil and grass filled the earth. A small wave of heat began to rise off of his skin as the blood pumped through his veins. Though it was never pleasant to suffer fatigue, there was a certain peace Hiji felt from doing simple, productive work. It made the more grim realities of life easier to reconcile. About half of the second portion of his work was completed, his foot pressing firmly into the soil as he shifted the earth behind him with the tool around his shoulders.

At this point, Hijikata was drenched with sweat, and though he'd made impressive time, the other farmers had already finished with their beasts of burden completing the work more quickly than his human efforts could manage. He kept an eye on the farmers as motivation to finish his work as soon as he could. Those bulls would be a goal to reach. In order to finish on time or ahead of those bulls, he had to increase his stamina. Only by matching their energy reserves would Hiji be able to emulate the results that they could produce. Continuing to push forward, the resistance from the earth was more pronounced due to his fatigue was getting increasingly pronounced. He paid it no mind. Allowing one's self to be distracted by their own suffering or pain prevented one's growth. He had to keep going. With another firm footstep forward, Hijikata reached the three quarters mark in tilling the second portion of the field.

The water in the ground beneath his feet provided a small relief to his sore feet as they pushed and strained against the earth to pull the large metal blades attached to this chained yoke and bend the earth to his will. With only a handful of meters left, Hijikata drew from the deepest part of his energy reserves and made a final, desperate push. The earth behind him continued to slothily upturn and fall away from the cold, dirt speckled blades that upturned the cold soil to expose it to the light of the sun.

At long last, Hijikata reached the end of his current endeavor, lifting and dropping the yoke off his shoulders with heavy, wearied hands. Looking down at the yoke that drained him so, he made a promise that he would beat the bulls in stamina the next time he put that yoke on his shoulders before walking away to wash up. There was nothing like a good bath after hard work.

---

Day Two - Making Bricks (1035 Words)

Hiji had set his clothes and weapons on the ground before slowly sinking his feet into the gritty, earthen paste. Standing practically knee deep in thick, viscous mud was not Hiji thought he was going to spend part of his day. One of the number of tasks that the village had asked him to cooperate in was in assistance with making bricks for additional buildings. Several hundred meters from the village, he and other villagers, wearing naught but their undergarments, were currently stationed in a large mud pit. Their task was simple: with the straw and water being hauled and tossed into the pit by the other villagers, they were to stomp and churn the mud with their feet to an almost clay-like consistency before placing it into prepared molds to be set aside to dry. These molds would then be separated, and the dirt bricks would then be taken to a kiln a small distance away to bake them. This would offer a small, square object that was easy to make, lasted for a considerable amount of time, and was non-porous, offering a solid barrier against the spring rains. The process was simply, if not taxing. Hijikata wondered if he might be allowed to share this with other villages once he left here. For now, though, he had work to focus on.

The mud was thick and difficult to navigate even as he initially entered the mud, and while churning the mud with his feet ultimately made the viscous substance just the slightest bit looser. With that said, it was still a trial merely to raise his feet. Keeping arms firmly at his side and elbows bent, Hiji began to jog in place, moving forward and back as he lifted and his feet as fast as he could. From an outside perspective, he looked utterly ridiculous, which was often the case when Hijikata took to training. He'd not thought that this task would be at least as difficult as plowing the field the day before, but he'd been sorely mistaken. The samurai chuckled to himself, realizing how presumptuous he'd been to think so. Each man had a quota of fifty bricks they had to meet before they were done for the day. Per his own request, he'd been given the same quota just as everyone else. One didn't get stronger by cutting corners.

Unlike the plowing of the field yesterday, Hijikata quickly broke into a sweat once he began his work, despite the cool touch of the mud on his feet. With wet, squelching slurps, his feet pulled free from the water-logged paste only to crash into the darkness once again. Though it was tough work, there was a certain catharsis that came with honest, hard labor. He frankly wouldn't mind doing this the rest of the week, but he knew that the villagers would have other tasks lined up for him. He relished the chall-

A loud whistle erupted from the woods, and a watchtower bell clanged as a group of armored bandits on horseback charged from over the hill. It was clear from the moment they appeared that they had been secretly observing the villagers for weeks now, to attack at a time like this. They were not following the path, instead plowing through the villager's fields of vegetables. They were headed straight for the men, who were completely unarmed. They intended to wipe them out.

As the men immediately made a mad dash for the village, Hijikata knew they would be cut off before reaching the village's walls. Tired though he was from the mud, he had to buy the villagers time. Pulling himself bodily from the mud, Hijikata grabbed his katana and rushed to meet the horses head-on. He saw the look of shock on the bandits faces as they saw a tall, willowy man with billowing black hair running as fast as one of their horses with a clean, sharpened blade in hand. For the first two bandits, it would be the last thoughts they'd ever have. Though they leveled spears at him, Hijikata cleanly jumped over the spear tips and spun, drawing his blade in a clean arc and neatly beheading the two front-most guards, leading the charge. Landing solidly, Hijikata pushed through his fatigue and continued his charge, even as the now decapitated corpses fell from their horses.

The rest of the guards, having seen the very real threat to their lives, immediately changed course. The two horses right in front of Hijikata reared up at their owner's commands, while the other bandits circled around and brandished their spears close to their bodies. Hijikata cursed internally as he skidded to a halt. He could have simply cut through the horses, but damned be his compassion for animals, he couldn't bring himself to. These horses were bound to heartless masters. They did not deserve to suffer their same fate. These bandits were intelligent and observant; though they knew not his reasons, they saw the horses stop his charge. Taking the opportunity, they quickly encircled him, leveling their spear tips at the mostly unprotected samurai.

Hijikata kept one hand to his scabbard and his other on the hilt of his weapon, standing up straight, relaxing his muscles. He knew that taking too rigid a stance would ultimately cause him to take damage. Pulling deeper than he'd ever done before from his stamina reserves, Hiji readied himself for the incoming flurry of attacks. And come they did, the bandits alternating their attacks expertly, taking quick shots at their effectively subdued opponent at their weapons' effective maximum ranges. Without his additional training, Hijikata's energy reserves would have given out before this point. Still, this was a bad spot. If he didn't think of something soon-

A cry from one of the bandits broke the flurry of hooves and clashing metal as he fell to the ground. The rest of the bandits quickly followed suit as large arrows erupted from various vital parts of their bodies. Hijikata dropped to his knees, exhausted. Looking past the circle of horses, he saw the villagers running towards him. Aside from their bricks...

This village was also known for their powerful bows.

---

Day Three - Reforging his Sword (1027 Words)

In his unexpected battle with the bandits on horseback, his trusted blade had not escaped unscathed. With parrying one of the many spear strikes that had threatened to take his life, the impact of the spear had caused a hairline fracture between the low-carbon steel of the spine and the high-carbon steel of the cutting edge. To the untrained eye, it would simply be just that, a crack. To a knowledgeable swordsman, it was a weapon that would turn on its user in the next swing, even less refined weapons easily snapping or shattering the metal to an infinitesimal number of metal shards. One thing was certain: his blade needed to be fixed. And to do that, he had to put a piece of his soul into the same fire that would reforge the blade... figuratively speaking, of course. Blood was terrible for quenching blades.

The smith's shop was sweltering. They had been up since early in the morning, bringing the forge to temperature, sitting at a balmy several thousand degrees. Hijikata, drenched in sweat and the top of his keiko gi draped over his hakama on his waist, unsocketed the mikugi pins from the hilt of the weapon and pulled the blade from the handle. Taking a dowel and a metal mallet, Hijikata paused before firmly striking the top of the dowel with the metal hammer, the point of the dowel stressing the fracture and break a large chunk of the blade's edge away from the rest of the steel. Over the course of several, stressful minutes, Hijikata would break down the blade into pieces, separating the soft steel (read: low carbon) and hard steel (read: high carbon) into two separate groups. These seemingly useless pieces of sharp steel would serve as the foundation for the new billet that would emerge from the forge. Typically, this would be done with a fresh piece of tamahagane formed in the intense fires of a tatara. For now, though, his own shattered sword would suffice in its place.

Wrapping the shattered pieces in papyrus, Hijikata would take clay slurry and douse the bundle with it before lightly packing straw the entire bundle. Gently inserting the metal into the searing coals, the heat continued to sap away Hijikata's energy, but he did not allow himself to relent. What followed would be a repeated process of carefully shifting the metal in the coals to ensure the metal heated up evenly before removing it and taking it to the anvil, repeatedly beating the metal with a variety of hammers, making certain to cut and fold the metal transversely and longitudinally, subsequently cooling the metal to oxidize the steel surface and removing the oxidized impurities revealed by the cooling with a wire brush. Then, once again, it would be covered with papyrus, clay slurry, and straw before reentering the coals. This was a process that would repeat itself at least a dozen times, if not even double that amount. What would come out of this procedure would be a billet of fine quality, its hundreds of thousands of layers eventually shining brilliantly in the light of the sun. He would then forge the bevel of the blade and the tang, the sound of clashing metal ringing in his ears and the oppressive heat continuing to threaten his strength.

Eventually, after forging the shape of the blade, , known as hizukuri, the time would come to quench. Taking the blade to a trough of cold water, Hiji would check the blade for warping. Seeing a slight bend, he would momentarily bend the blade against the anvil, checking to make sure that his edge remained true before setting the blade in a vice to cool. Whilst he waited, he gathered tools for the next step of sharpening and filing the blade. He was sweating so profusely that it almost seemed like the water was evaporating from his skin. Once it was cool, he would set to further refining the bevel on the edge of the blade to make the cutting edge, or ha. After using the file, he would apply the clay to create the differential temper line, or hamon, in the same manner his father had taught him to do.

The next step was arguably the most stress-inducing portion of the entire process: the tempering stage. Taking some of the coals from the forge, Hijikata allowed the forge to cool before setting the blade inside. His eyes did not depart from the blade for a second as the clay quickly hardened in the heat of the fire. If anything went wrong in this stage, the entire day would be wasted. He would have to start from the very first step. It was with a steady hand, despite the heavy fatigue that rested on his shoulders already, that he pulled the blade from the furnace to quench it in oil. The silence in the air could have killed with how crushing it was. Thankfully, that silence continued, as any creaking noises during the quench would have surely spelled doom for this entire day of work. He was practically drained, but he had still more work to do. Locating his whetstones, he waited for the blade to cool before setting the blade to the stones, which he continued at without pause. He started with a coarse grit and continued onto finer grit stones until the blade shined brightly even in the dimming light of the coal's embers.

An hour later, a loud hiss could be heard from the smith's forge as steam rose from the chimney. Emerging from the sudden darkness of the forge. The new blade, secure in its hilt, rested comfortably in Hijikata's hand. The uniquely painted hamon, the image of rolling clouds collapsing in upon themselves, glinted in the moon's light. Giving a few test swings of the blade, it had maintained its weight, its balance, and, testing against a nearby leaf on a tree, its edge. An exhausted Hijikata made his way towards the bathhouse, seeking a bath and a much deserved rest, having entered the forge with his blade and reemerged a new, better warrior.

---

Day Four - Repairing the Wall (1042 Words)

The villagers had offered the teacher the opporunity to rest from his agreed duties as thanks for helping the villagers against the bandits, but he declined. His keiko gi freshly cleaned from yesterday's work at the forge, Hijikata reported to the foreman at the wall. Many of the bricks they'd help create that day were going to fixing crumbling parts of the wall. The men had already completed demolishing the crumbling portion of the wall. Now, they were readying to rebuild it stronger than before, a work Hiji planned on sharing in to the fullest extent possible.

The villagers had learned to make a sort of construction paste using sand, ground pebbles, and water, using a heavier variant of their grain mill to grind the small pebbles into a powder. Though it hardened fairly quickly, it was also good at adhering the bricks to each other and making the building process go more quickly. Taking one of the buckets of the construction paste, Hiji moved to the outside of the wall, beginning on that section of the barrier. Starting by setting a layer of bricks down, he coated each brick on four sides with the construction paste before firmly setting the brick down on the ground. He repeated this process a number of times to establish the ground-level row of bricks. Eventually, he continued back to the place he started and began placing another row of bricks on top of the first. Eventually he ran out of both paste bricks, having to walk back to the foreman and acquire more materials. Though it was simple work, it was tiring; the bricks as a group were heavier than he expected, and even making a single row of bricks was time consuming and required patience and a skilled hand to complete. This was compounded by the fact that he could only grab small batches, as the foreman wanted to ensure that everyone had sufficient supplies to work. It was a wise method of organizing the work, to be certain, but it made an already taxing work take longer, meaning he was working up a good sweat by the time he was about a quarter way done with the twenty foot high wall. Though Hijikata was blessed with height, he also got to a point where he could not accurately or effectively continue his work without some sort of assistance. Allowing the shorter, more agile men to continue their work on ladders, Hijikata instead offered to divide and transport the loads of bricks that each crew would need to complete the work. With the blessing of the foreman, Hijikata took a small palette of bricks over his head and made the walk to the wall.

The first journey to drop the bricks off was met with thanks, the group appreciative for the sensei's help. Even though he was working hard, he marveled at how quickly the experienced builders were completing their task. Some men used ladders, while others resorted to standing on each other's shoulders. Turning back towards the town square, he returned to gather more supplies, this time several heavy buckets of the construction paste he had been using before. Hijikata had to admit that, yet again, he had been ignorant of the amount of strength and stamina it took to construct such buildings and walls before now. With all of his training as a warrior, he still found himself fatiguing under the workload, and he drew deeper from within himself to surge forward and continue bringing supplies to the workers. While the second drop off was just as graciously received as the other, with it also came polite urges to pick up the pace. Heeding their call, Hiji ran back to the foreman this time. The past three days began to take their toll at the worst moment possible. His legs particularly began to ache from the continued exertion, and the amount of energy required to continue own despite that pain was significant. Taking another palette onto his head, he jogged back to the men working diligently on the wall, many of whom were also sweating and tired, just like him. Despite all of the work they had already done today tending to their land and families, they did not allow their own fatigue to be an excuse, and the excellence of their work stood out in the results. Though it was still being built, the wall already looked sturdy, neat, and clean. His own honor on the line, Hijikata immediately set the palette down once he arrived and ran back straight to the foreman to retrieve more. Though his legs carried him quickly, his feet cried out in pain as they crashed into the ground with each pounding step.

Hoisting an additional palette, Hijikata pushed his legs as fast as he would go, digging deep within his well of stamina to summon up energy he never knew he had before. Though he was thoroughly drenched in sweat (an occurrence so common this week that he'd frankly lost count), he arrived at the build site just as one of the workers took the last of the bricks off of the last palette he'd left. The wall was nearly done. One more slab worth of bricks should do the trick. Running back to the foreman, his feet practically starting to numb as an effect of the continued pain and irritation. As he picked up the modestly weighty palette, his arms threatened to tremble, but he would allow no such quarter be given to his complaining body. He had a job to do, and he would complete it. Taking the load of bricks over his shoulders one more time, ragged breaths escaped his lips as he jogged, or attempted to do so, to the construction site. The men were waiting, smiles on their faces as Hijikata set the final shipment down for them to tear into.

Sitting down on the neatly stacked wooden platforms, Hijikata was privileged to see the very last bricks of the wall be set in place. He didn't get much time to celebrate, though. The fatigue of the last few days caught up with him, and he fell to sleep right there where he sat.

---

Day Five - Plowing More Fields for Seeding

Ah, back to this task again. It seemed that the family who had been so kind as to offer him lodging for his time here at the village also had managed to clean another portion of their arable land for cultivating additional crops. This was just in time, as Hijikata had remembered his previous failure to keep pace with the oxen beasts that the other farmers were using. This would be a test. Would his newfound stamina be sufficient to keep pace with the large creatures? Or would he find himself wanting yet again in the face of adversity?

He had a similar size of field to till for seeding again this second time around. However, unlike before, where he only had to till each field once, now he would have to till each field twice, once longitudinally and once latitudinally. The amount of space needed for the root systems for the plants they would be planting in this field were greater than the last, hence the additional tilling requirements. Hijikata didn't mind. It simply added to the challenge of the training exercise. Sliding the yoke upon his shoulders once again, he required much less time to become accustomed to the weight. It was practically like talking to an old friend or picking up a long-neglected hobby. With powerful legs, he pushed against the resistance of the earth behind his feet and started to plow.

At first glance, if there was any difference between Hijikata and the beasts of burdens that the other farmers were content to use for securing their livelihoods through agriculture, not even the most scrutinizing of eyes would be able to parse the differences between the two. It almost seemed as if Hijikata was practically step in step with the large beasts. Even as they finished the first quarter of his work, an entire half of the field plowed and tilled once in only half of the time. HIjikata also didn't seem to be nearly as taxed as the last attempt Hijikata had made trying to measure up to the impressive energy reserves of the plowing beasts of his host family's neighbors. As Hijikata quickly moved the plowing blades, however, the gap between the two became more pronounced and more prominent. Unlike before, where he had always lagged just a small amount behind the animals, Hijikata was actually beginning to pull ahead of the animals. As he began the next portion of the plowing duties he had been assigned, it was clear that his human anatomy offered a small additional advantage, as he could simply pick up and position the large wooden beam with the tilling blades on it anywhere on the ground he so pleased. Meanwhile, the other farmers had to coax their animals into lining up as they so wanted, losing valuable time. Thus, it was with a considerable lead that Hijikata started the second quarter of his work, strong and chiseled legs bracing against the earth as metal tore soil and lifted dirt to allow the multitude of nutrients and fertile soil to see the light of day.

Though he started to break into a bit of a sweat at the start of the second portion of the work, the amount of energy he still had left in his disposal was more than double of what he had before at this stage. He did not slow down; firm, paced steps solidly braced themselves against the earth below his feet as the samurai trudged onward to continue cultivating the soil which had vexed him so just earlier this week and had deigned it appropriate to swindle victory right from his grasp. Now, he was three meters ahead of the village's finest cultivating beasts and growing. Though he had worked up a sweat by the time he was done with the second set of plowing and tilling, he still had plenty of energy left. Lifting the blades up from the ground, HIji set down the blades, looking to cover the top half of the field he'd just tilled latitudinally, the third of four pulls he had to do. As he began this third pull, HIji realized that this was where he might lose the lead he had developed. As much of the ground he was walking over was now tilled at least once, it would be that much harder to get firm footing and pull the sledge of blades behind him. Looping his arms over the yoke on his shoulders, Hijikata pulled out all of the stops. Pouring the energy he'd been conserving into his task, he managed to mostly maintain the speed he 'd been managing up until this point for the third pull. Though it took longer than the others, and though he lost about half a meter on his lead, he still completed the third pull well before the beasts of burden.

Hiji knew that if he allowed himself a moment of respite, he might falter and fall behind. He had to move with urgency. Lifting up the sledge, Hiji positioned the blades on the second latitudinal axis of the field, the last portion he had to till. Channeling his remaining energy into the pull, Hijikata started the final portion of his tilling without delay, his legs stomping firmly into the ground as he pulled the blades through the already well tilled ground behind him. He didn't let himself become distracted by checking on the bull's and oxen the other farms were using. He poured all of his stamina, his focus, and just a tiny bit of his rage, into completing the task that was in front of him. After what seemed like a rather long time, Hijikata finished his work, dropping the yoke from his shoulders as he caught his breath, his body covered in sweat. After taking a few breaths he looked over to the other farms.

He had cleared his field before they had... by a solid five meters.

Hijikata chuckled to himself. He knew that frustration could be a powerful motivator, but even he had underestimated how useful it could be. That gave him ideas for additional training he could do...

[ShinobiTruth]

Strength Training - 5 Points: 5194/5000

Day One - Log Tossing

With the amount of unexpected training opportunities that popped up with his travels, Hiji was thinking he'd need to invest in some new material to craft a new keiko gi. What he had expected would be a simple two weeks of training students had turned into a trial to prove his strength. A culture of strength and masculinity seemed to grip this village, which made the request to learn swordsmanship from such a delicate looking man such as himself even more surprising. The attitude was so prevalent that there were literal festivals to celebrate various manly pursuits, some of them significantly less modest than others. Hijikata had been asked to participate in one such event, involving the tossing of a series of increasingly and obscenely large logs as far as possible. Knowing that there was a chance that more would be motivated to study the sword if he performed well, he obliged. It was the least he could do, considering they were not asking anything additional for room and board.

With the sleeves of his keiko gi rolled up, Hijikata stepped up to his first log. As expected, he was the last to perform for each round. It seemed there were three logs he would have to lift, each following log increasing in length, width, and thickness... which ultimately meant they increased in weight as well. Dusting chalk on his hands, Hijikata bent down with his knees and grabbed the end of the log. Grabbing the log and lifting by any other part was forbidden, and he would be subject to immediate disqualification. Hijikata would rather do poorly than dishonor his hosts by not following their rules. Though unusual, they were entirely reasonable and didn't endanger anyone's lives. Contracting and tensing the muscles in his legs, Hijikata lifted the first log. Its weight was actually a bit lighter than he had anticipated, but that was not the issue. The far end of the log, he realized as he felt the weight suddenly shift in his hands, was unevenly distributed. Thus, what would have normally been a fairly simple task turned into a sudden test of his strength as he had to prevent the far end of the log from touching the ground again since he'd already lifted it. This, unlike the initial lift, was harder to accomplish, and though he managed to do so, it required some effort. Hijikata marveled at the simple ingenuity of the contest. It tested multiple facets of the person's strength with a single task, a most impressive feat. Still, he couldn't spend the whole day studying the test. People cheered and jested at him, urging him to throw it. As Hijikata lifted the log at an upward angle, seeking to launch it like a javelin, he felt the weight suddenly shift, requiring that he hold and drive the forward power from the same arm. It was still within his capacity, but it took considerable effort to launch the blasted log into an arc. The large wooden shaft flew and plunged into the ground. Though he didn't expect to best many of the men in the competition with him, he was pleasantly surprised that he managed to place third on the first toss. Surprised whistles and applause accompanied his accomplishment.

Hijikata reflected on what he'd learned about the challenge as he moved onto the second log. His competitors were in the process of throwing their own second logs, and Hijikata respectfully watched, trying to learn from their posture and technique. For as unpleasant as the excessive focus on masculinity could be, Hijikata had to give commendation to the men's dedication to physical fitness and strength in this village. Though they were simple folk, he imagined that even a warlord might give pause before attacking a village where the lesser men could toss a small tree as easily as a child might throw a ball. Soon, it was Hijikata's turn, the fellow just before him stealing first place in the competition with the second throw. Hijikata wouldn't let pride get in the way of his throw. It was better to have the more reasonable expectation of getting stronger with this exercise, and as he lifted the second log, he knew that such was the better perspective to have, as he nearly was disqualified for the second throw as the far end of the log threatened to touch the ground almost as soon as he lifted it. He knew that it was going to weigh more, but he hadn't realized exactly how much heavier it was going to be. The strain was visible on his neck, and his struggle garnered a few jeering but good-natured laughs from the locals. It seemed that many of the other travelers either refused to participate in their festivals or fell woefully short of the high standards set by the men of this village. They didn't seem to realize exactly how intimidating a sight the men of their village were... or perhaps they did and simply didn't care. With significantly more effort, he managed to launch the second log, and much like the first log, his second throw settled roughly in the middle of the pack. It was a bit shorter than his previous throw, but that was to be expected.

The third log eventually found its way into Hijikata's hands and, spirits help him, was it heavy. Hijikata knew that if he didn't move quickly, he would quickly lose control of the large log and be disqualified. Channeling energy from every other part of his body, Hijikata drew back and threw the large log with all of his might. While he didn't have the worst throw, his haste caused a lop-sided spin and cost him some distance, falling closer to the back of the pack. As he caught his breath and reviewed his results, he knew there was more opportunity to become stronger. He would be moving on to tomorrow's even by the slightest margin.

---

Day Two - Bull Wrestling

Hijikata walked into a large ring, its sandy floor stained with the blood of his fellow competitors. Hijikata had to admit that he found this particular event extremely distasteful, but in order to improve his strength, he relented and chose to participate. He'd seen at least two of his fellow competitors suffer serious wounds from the sizable, agitated bull they had forcibly corralled into the ring. A red sash hanging from his waist would immediately catch the bull's attention as he got closer. The objective of the event was simple: force the bull out of the ring. If you're pushed out or are unable to continue, you lose. When Hiji first heard the rules, he thought the premise was simple, inane even, if not a bit strange. Once he watched his first opponent have his arm violently gored by the bull, however, he attempted to jump into the ring to help the man only to be detained by one of the village's leaders. He was grateful that the competitor had possessed the good sense to bow out, but the entire affair left an admittedly bitter taste in the samurai's mouth.

He wouldn't have much time to meditate further on his dissatisfaction, as not a second after the bull locked eyes onto him, it charged, a fearsome sight to even the more stockily built of men. He knew that the bull would attempt to sweep its head to one side as it closed in. Rushing forward, Hiji crashed into the bull, grabbing the horns close to where they bent and bracing his legs into the sand. Even with the bull pushing him back in the sand, Hiji could feel the bull's immense strength, and though he was close to surpassing it, right now, the bull had the upper hand. He could see the edges of the ring closing on his side. With quick thinking and quicker feet, Hijikata flipped his feet up and vaulted over the large beast twisting and somersaulting to the middle of the ring in a single leap, landing with a poof of dust and sand. The bull, already agitated, bellowed and thrashed in anger before turning to face the samurai.

Rolling his shoulders, Hijikata knew that simply tricking the bull into stepping out of the ring would be ineffective. He would have to win the contest of strength, even if by only the tiniest of margins and force the animal out of the boundary. Waiting for the bull to charge again, Hijikata decided to try and channel more strength into his legs. This certainly prevented the bull from pushing him back nearly as much, but his process was flawed. In his haste, the samurai neglected to consider his arms, and with a deft twist, the bull momentarily threw off the samurai's balance. The negligent warrior was rewarded for his lapse in judgement with a sharp pain across his hand as the tip of the bull's horn lacerated the skin on his palm, drawing blood. Jumping over the beast with all of his strength, the man managed to avoid further damage, quickly surveying his hand. With some treatment after this, the hand would heal quickly.

The bull would not give him time for pause or rest. Immediately turning and charging, the samurai had little time more than to take a step back and catch the full brunt of the bull's force head-on. Bracing his legs against the sand, he was still pushed back a considerable amount, to the point that he could feel his feet press up against one of the embedded stones that dictated the ring's boundary. If he faltered even an iota more, he would be eliminated from the tournament... assuming he made it out of the ring in the first place. Pulling all of his strength, Hijikata stopped simply halting and resisting and started pushing against the bull... and after what seemed a solid half minute of futility, the bull took a step back... and Hiji took a step forward. Then, ten seconds later, another step back for the bull and another step forward for the bull. This continued for a solid minute longer before, with a determined shout, the wandering teacher lifted the bulls horns up and flung them to the side, channeling the bull's forward momentum away. Though he'd come literally moments from being knocked out of the bracket, the encounter had also given him an idea.

This time, he did not wait for the bull to recover, and he did not take the defensive. Quickly rushing the bull down, Hijikata took his hands and firmly gripped the bull's once pristine horns, the blood seeping from his hand dripping down the bony appendages and falling to the sand. Driving his energy through his legs up through his core and back and into his arms, HIjikata sought to force the bull back towards the boundary of the ring. At first, the wisdom of this particular approach was put into question by many of the standers by, as the momentum seemed to uncertainly shift between the samurai, the aggressor, and the bull, the defender. During this tense bout, even the excited crowds seemed to hush somewhat out of anxious anticipation. Then, with a single step forward, the samurai seized the momentum for himself. With each additional step forward, the crowd's cheers grew louder, and eventually, it was now the bull whose hoof clacked wildly against the stone that marked the boundary. With a final twist and downward heave, Hijikata bodily forced the bull to the ground, his rump well over the ring.

With the call from the judges of the contest, several large, able-bodied men came and detained the bull with ropes and chains. The bull, exhausted and agitated, cried out in pain as the bindings tightly wound around its tender muscles. The animal's pleats for help seemed to fall on deaf ears, and Hijikata had a mind and a half to halt what the men were doing. But this was not his place. It was not his home. He had no right. It was with downcast eyes that he left the ring. Though he knew that they had to have good reasons for the traditions and customs they did, he admittedly found it difficult to reconcile them with his honor. It would be a troubled sleep he would have tonight.

---

Day Three - Trench Warfare

Despite the name of the challenge, it actually had very little to do with warfare. There was plenty of trench to make up for it, however.

In front of him was a five foot deep, five foot wide, one hundred meter long trench filled most of the way with water. A bell and rope were positioned at each end of the trench. At one end, Hijikata stood silently, centering himself for the task ahead. At the opposite end of the trench, his opponent stood waving to the crowd in a display of showmanship. It seemed that despite the impressive showing the outsider had made, many still attributed his victories to chance. It was understandable. They had only ever been exposed to one interpretation of strength up until now. They valued its proud display and the fear it instilled in lesser men.

Hijikata was no lesser man.

The referee looked towards each competitor. He nodded to HIjikata first, who simply nodded in return. The referee then nodded to the other competitor, who simply grinned. "Ah'm gunna enjoy whippin' yeh, plainsman," his competitor taunted, his voice thick in the accent of his people's dialect. Hijikata did not respond. In life and death, most things were fair game, but resorting to childish insults and insinuations in mere contests of strength was exactly as such: childish. Instead, he focused on the bell at the end of the trench, behind the young arrogant man. He would plow through the young man without hesitation.

The referee called for the match to start, and the two men surged through the water, grappling each other and pushing against one another with all their might. At first, for a brief moment, it seemed that the ronin's opponent would overtake him, but the shock on everyone's face, including his opponent's face, became apparent as Hijikata began steadily pushing his opponent back. The water made things more difficult, the mud in the trench compromising his footing to a degree, but there was no give in his progress. As inevitable as the tides themselves, Hijikata pushed his opponent near the end of the trench. His opponent, thinking himself clever, ducked and slipped past in an attempt to dash to the bell, a last ditch effort to grasp victory. Hijikata was having none of that. Quickly catching his opponent around the waist, the smaller man hoisted the big one up and over as he bent back, dropping the man back in the water on his back before turning around, stepping forward, and ringing the bell. Cheers and cries of astonishment erupted from the crowd as Hijikata pulled himself from the trench. Though his opponent had clearly been weaker than him, HIjikata was surprised by the amount of additional weight the water placed on him. That and his opponent's desperation had taxed his strength more than he had expected.

A short time later, the next round commenced, and Hijikata, only barely catching his breath, was called back into the trench. The next man that stood before him, unlike the previous young man, did not speak. Instead, he honored the foreigner with a nod and a pounding of his fist to his chest. Hijikata emulated the gesture. His opponent was much wiser than the last... and by the looks of it, maybe a bit stronger than him, too. This match would be grueling. This was no mere bout of strength. This would be a clash of resolve, of will between two seasoned warriors. With a single call, the referee started the match. Unlike the previous match, the two men did not rush, instead stepping forward, each pace firm and determined, until like two mountains, they crashed into each other, hands clasped and intertwined. Hijikata felt himself begin to be pushed back immediately upon contact, the man's superior weight and height working to his benefit. Digging the balls of his feet deep into the mud, Hijikata halted the push back. For a time, the two did not budge, pushing back and forth against each other but neither giving way or purchase, like an ant trying to push a statue. Then, with a grueling step, Hijikata searched deeper within himself for more strength, and he took a single step forward. A minute or so later, this was followed by another. Then another. This was nothing like the previous match, where he'd been facing an opponent who simply benefited from the terrain. This man, each time he took a step forward, fought to push him two or three paces back. At certain times, he succeeded, but at others, Hijikata was able to hold his ground. After ten grueling minutes, Hijikata managed to get back to their starting position. With five minutes more, Hijikata now had a lead. His determination and stretching his strength to the end were paying off.

With that said, his opponent was not one to give up easily. Momentarily dropping and channeling strength from his back, the beast of a man lifted Hijikata into the air, driving forward a few steps without much resistance. Thinking quickly, Hijikata momentarily dropped his weight before violently pulling the man's arms down, the two competitors abruptly dropping below the surface of the water. Both men broke the surface on opposite sides where they were. Looking at each other momentarily, they decided their test of strength would now be against the water. Making a mad dash to the bell, Hijikata was just as worn as his opponent, and he did not have the benefit of size. Drawing deep from his well of strength, Hijikata pushed forward, and it was only a split second before his opponent's hand reached the bell that he was able to ring his own, claiming victory by the most minute of margins. Pulling himself from the trench, the two men walked towards each other. Hijikata was about to offer a token of thanks in their own custom, but his opponent beat him to the punch, instead bowing to Hijikata as the victor. Hijikata could not suppress the smile that came to his face as he returned the gesture. He'd managed to secure a spot in the finals on the last day. He looked forward to facing his opponent then as well.

---

Day Four - Log Tossing, Final Round

Well, he was back to this. He had to admit that he was intimidated by the size of the logs that they had prepared for this second portion of the challenge. Unlike the first round, which was meant to cull the weak and remove the chaff of the competition, the second round was much more formal. Each man would throw only one at a time, the other competitors expected to stand back and watch as each one took their turn. It was to show respect to those that had worked hard and qualified to reach this point. It was still overall a pleasant community event, but there was definitely more ceremony this second time around. Hijikata waited patiently, as he was once again the last competitor.

At first, he anticipated that they'd each throw the lighter log, wait their turn, and then move on to the middle log and so forth, but this was not the case. As the first man stepped up, he picked up his log and launched it an impressive distance. However, instead of turning back around and sitting down, he picked up the second log immediately, more visibly straining under the weight of the log itself. Tossing that log as well, he braced himself for the third. Though the man struggled against it with all his might, he could not lift the third. Giving a solid three tries, he relented and bowed out. It seemed that throwing two was impressive enough a feat, for though he was disqualified, the village cheered for him.

It continued as such, each other man unable to lift the third fabled log, practically a large tree considering its size, until the last two competitors. The final competitor, a seemingly diminutive man, not too much taller than Hijikata himself, would prove to be much different. Easily tossing the first two logs, he moved onto the final log and, with the muscles on his back visibly exerting themselves, the man lifted the log and tossed it a solid ten meters before staring intensely at Hijikata, challenging him without words.

Admist a chorus of cries and cheers for the other competitors, Hijikata rose, and the crowd fell silent. Lifting the first log, Hijikata thought he would have more trouble, but the first log was easily maneuvered. It showed exactly how much stronger he'd become over the course of the festival. Hoisting the log overhead, Hijikata torqued the muscles in his left arm to launch the log not much unlike a catapult, his first log landing squarely even with the intense man who was all that remained between him and victory. Surprised cheers followed his first throw, immediately quashed by the pervasive silence of a curious people as they watched one foreign to their ways dominate their most venerated competitions. Moving to the second log, the weight was a tad bit more than expected, but managed easily enough. Deciding to keep his right arm to power the throw for the final massive log, Hijikata once again positioned the log over his head, drawing more strength into his left arm. He could feel the strain from the previous throw, despite the log being considerably lighter, and as such, he had to take more time to gather the torque and energy required in his left arm to pull off this toss. Eventually, Hijikata tossed the second log, and though it flew gracefully through the air, he clearly could see that his second log was just shy of his competitors in distance.

A clearly consolatory tone erupted from the audience. They thought him defeated, as did his opponent, who simply nodded in self-assurance. He knew the man held no arrogance. He'd clearly worked hard for the strength he had. But his one mistake was to assume that Hijikata was down for the count. They both had three logs to throw, did they not? Everything rode on this final throw. Hijikata had been saving the energy in his right arm for this portion of the event. The ronin had to admit that he'd thought he'd be sufficiently strong enough to not have to rely on using his dominant hand. Though he was now ambidextrous by training, one was always more naturally accustomed to using their original dominant hand, and it seemed fortune was blessing him for erring to the side of caution. Hoisting the massive log over his head, Hijikata understood why the other competitors had been unable to lift the log. The weight of the literal tree over his head was enough to make him feel like his feet were sinking into the ground. If he waited too much longer, he'd wind up dropping the log and losing by default. Hijikata would have to once again push past his limits to perform the task at hand. Starting by channeling strength from his legs, Hijikata moved that strength into his core. Flexing the muscles in his back and shoulder, he directed that strength from his core into his arm as he pulled back, preparing to throw the log. The intensity of the weight increased momentarily as for a brief few seconds, his right arm was supporting the entire weight of the large wooden pillar.

With a small cry ripping from his throat, Hijikata pushed through the strain, practically punching through the very large piece of wood with his strength as he launched the final log with all of the might he had within him. The air almost seemed to stir around him as the log left his hands. He closed his eyes, giving a small prayer of thanks to the spirits for helping him improve his strength through this contest. The log hurtled through the air, rotating as it finally came crashing down with a spray of dirt and a resounding thud. The crowd burst into a cheer, and his opponent, previous confident in his ability, could not hide the surprise on his face that came with the realization that he'd just lost to the foreigner. Though only by a mere two meters, Hijikata's third log had cleared the distance. Hijikata now had one more title he could carry: Champion Log Tosser.

---

Day Five - Trench Warfare, Final Round

It seemed that he wasn't quite done with the man he'd bested in the Log Tossing event. The same man would now face him in the last event of the festival. He wasn't certain how well the man adjusted to loss, but as he made his way to the large trench, filled fresh with frigidly cold water, he could see that the glint in the man's eyes had not died down. On the contrary, it seemed that his desire to defeat the foreigner had intensified greatly. The waves of aggression coming off of the man were so powerful that even some novice warriors would mistake it for bloodlust. The referee called the two competitors to the trench. Hiji looked around and could tell that the majority, if not the entirety of the village, was here to witness this event. For most of the event, though Hiji was not used to being the center of attention, he had to admit that he enjoyed the inquiries of the villagers and the admiration of his students. Many of them had never met people from his country, and they were naturally inquisitive, even if they did sometimes speak crudely. He had to set those feelings aside for now, though, and focus on the matter at hand... and that matter was defeating the man that stood in front of him.

The cold waters stung his skin as he submerged himself into the trench. The stocky, strong champion across the trench didn't even flinch. If anything, his already reddened skin seemed to grow more red, adding to his already considerable intensity. Hijikata readied himself for the starting of the event. The referee paused for a considerable amount of time, eyeing both competitors. As they awaited the call for the match to start, Hijikata eyed his opponent... and his instincts told him something was wrong. The facade of competitive intensity was slowly slipping away...

The referee raised his hand and called for the match to start.

The villager charged, and Hijikata knew that this just became much more serious. This man... His bloodlust was unmistakable.

He intended to kill Hijikata.

Immediately summoning his strength, Hijikata ran straight for the man, and the two clashed in a powerful grapple. The force at which they struck each other was so potent that the air stirred around them. It was the chill in the air that carried his bloodlust out of the trench and to the audience, and the once ardent cheering quickly quieted down as the crowd realized that something was terribly wrong. Hijikata knew that he'd have to end this struggle as quickly as possible, trying to maintain the clinch and drive the man forward. The man's legs slammed into the mud like steel, bracing himself against the samurai's efforts before flinging his arms outward to break the grapple. Stepping forward, he thrust his body into Hijikata in a vicious body check. Had that body check hit Hijikata earlier this week, he would have been in serious trouble. He resisted the blow, fighting through the pain as he stepped forward and ducked down grabbing his opponent behind the thighs. Lifting him up, he broke the stance the man was holding and continued carrying him forward. The man quickly caught on and dug his heels into the side of the trench, stopping Hijikata's progress. Hijikata's next sensation was one of pain as a series of pounding fists slammed down onto his back. His instincts urged him to strike the man back, but he resisted. This was a contest of strength and sport. Though he was certain that the villagers would forgive him if he broke custom, he would not allow himself to disrespect their traditions. Hiji had to beat this man fairly, even if the man himself had thrown his honor to the wind for the sake of victory.

Lifting his back up as the man's hand was coming down for another strike, he stopped the blow by tensing the muscles on his shoulder before raising his arms to under the man's biceps and lock his elbows, clasping on to the opponent's shoulders. Driving down, he sought to drive the man's shoulders down and compromise his balance, which would ultimately ruin his footing. The man resisted with every inch of his being, and though he started getting pushed back, he continued to slam his legs into the mud below the water, creating a foundation against which he could brace himself. Out of nowhere, the man drew his head back, and Hijikata immediately recognized his intent. Stepping in and lowering his head, Hijikata blocked the headbutt with the sturdy back section of his skull, supported by his neck. The man did not give up, however. He would continue, at opportune moments to try and launch another headbutt at Hiji, who would either avoid it or tank it with a sturdier part of his body. Hijikata had to channel every bit of strength he had in him to continue mounting the pressure on his opponent whose bloodlust poured from him in waves.

Suddenly, the man momentarily gave way, and Hiji immediately realized he'd fallen into a trap. The amount of force he was exerting on the opponent was used against him, setting him off balance. He barely had time to brace himself as the flat of the opponent's elbow slammed straight into the side of his face, sending Hiji's head bouncing against the side of the trench. This was followed by another violent body check straight into his chest. Hiji was nearly swept as the man tackled him into the wall. He threatened to crush Hiji's throat with his elbow, but Hiji ducked. Drawing off of every last bit of strength, Hijikata picked the man up and, with a resounding battle cry, rushed through the water and slammed the opponent back into the far end of the trench, the force of the impact, ringing the bell for him as his opponent blacked out from the impact.

His body sore all over, he put the man over his shoulders and lifted them both out of the trench. It was to enthusiastic applause that Hijikata raised his fist in triumph, a thin trail of blood dripping down his chin. Though the man had attempted to kill him, Hiji had prevailed... and grown stronger for it.