Finding Inspiration

[Izanagi]

It had been several months since Shinjiro had taken part in the Fur Country competitions, and of all the shinobi he had witnessed there one man stood out above the rest; Yamai Aimi, a Jounin of his own village. The man’s skills with a blade were of the calibre that he had only witnessed in his father, though rather than use his skills for assassination Aimi seemed to radiate raw power, the kind of man who would never back down from a challenge. It was precisely this kind of mentality that fascinated Shinji. He wished to hone his own skills with Iaido but also wished to become a more physically imposing force, someone who could dominate a battlefield and for the first time in his life he felt like his training within the Karagata compound would not suffice in this ambition. And so he decided to finally seek the man out.

Venturing out into the village it didn’t take long before he began drawing glances. He could have moved swiftly and silently, avoiding many gazes though he didn’t feel the need to hide within his own village. If they wanted to stare so be it. It had been several years since the Genma had been sealed within him and still there were very few people outside of his own household whom had laid eyes on him more than two or three times. His Chunin exam and the recent event in Fur Country being the most memorable exposure that many would recall, though there was too the recent Water festival though he had not stayed for long. For whatever reason shinobi and merchants alike clung to these encounters, memorizing every detail about the young teenager, considering him someone of great importance despite the fact that he was still only a Chunin.

He actually had to ask around a bit to determine the location of the Yamai compound, he had never taken the time to visit any clan districts and rarely even interacted with anyone contracted to any family other than the Karagata or its sub-classes. Upon arriving at the entrance he would speak to a guard stationed there. The man seemed to do a double-take, considering that Shinjiro appeared to be somewhat familiar but not quite connecting the dots. “My name is Shinjiro, bled for the family Karagata, born of the family Karagata, host of Vorashu no Kategenma, the Phantom beast of Body. I’m looking for a Jounin, Yamai Aimi, could you direct me to him or send for him?” he inquired, saving the man the embarrassment of asking who he was. From the look the guard had given him it was clear that normally he wouldn’t have cared less about helping anyone track down a clan member unless it was official business but Shinji’s status as Jinchurriki was enough leverage to incite cooperation. “Aimi?....Yeah, he left a few hours ago, headed off to train. I think he was off to the northern coast of Kirigakure today” the man stated, after a few moments of consideration. Wordlessly Shinji nodded and set off to find him.

He hoped that the intel would be good, he hated wasting time that could be spent training or performing missions. As a member of the seven swordsmen of the mist now, even if it was just an apprentice position, Shinjiro had even more reason to hone his skills. The symbol of the swordsmen replaced where his hitae-ate used to be, a sash tied around his left arm, mirroring the Karagata symbol on his right shoulder. His forehead protector was now worn on his head once again, something he hadn’t done since his early days as a Genin. Wearing his green and black camoflauge patterned clothes, twin katana strapped in a ‘x’ shape across his back and a flowing mossy green scarf the young shinobi set off to find Aimi. Moving through the streets quickly he darted past others, moving at a fast yet comfortable pace until he approached the outskirts of the northern end of the island. Slowing considerably he would ensure he maintained his bearings and kept an eye out for the man, eventually spotting the shirtless figure not far from the water of the large lake that surrounded the man-made island.

There was of course a light perpetual mist emanating from the water, giving the pale Yamai an almost ominous appearance training alone in the late morning of the overcast day. Moving to a distance of about 10 meters Shinjiro felt confident that he was within appropriate speaking distance. Still he remained on guard, one could never be too careful in approaching Kiri shinobi whom might kill others if they were in a particularly bad mood. In fact in asking around about the Yamai compound he had heard rumor of the carnage Aimi had caused recently at the Bloodriver bar. “I’ve been looking for you…Yamai Aimi. Heard you’re quite the swordsman. My name is Karagata Shinjiro, host of the Kategenma. I’d be honored if you would train me” he explained humbly as he kept his body angled to the man, his vigilant green eyes scouring for any signs of hostility. One would have to be quite brazen to attempt to kill a Jinchuriki of the village but Shinjiro knew better than to rely on his status alone to protect him.

[Golnax]

Aimi stood on the edge of the water, looking out over the surf as he had been for hours. He was hot, his body drenched in sweat more so than mist and his hair was damp with the stuff, his skin a very light shade of pink from the amount of exertion he'd been forcing on himself. The water out in front of him waved and rippled in such a way that, to an observant viewer they'd realize, was unnatural. It almost appeared as if the ocean itself were bending to his will in an area that was roughly a meter wide and stretched out in front of him for several dozen meters. He'd been there since the early morning, performing the same feat over and over again, trying to force himself to do better. His arms ached and his lungs burned. His chest rose and fell with his every breath and his heart pounded in his chest as if in protest to his actions. It was an ache he was all too familiar with.

His hands were shaking, relaxed as they were, on the sword at his hip. His right hand rested against the hilt of the sword, the nook between his thumb and index finger rubbed raw to the point of blistering. His knuckles felt stiff and screamed at him violently in protest to being used as they had been, over and over again. His left hand was little better off, spared only, perhaps, the blister that was ever present on his right hand. Had he given his body time he knew that it would heal on it's own but it wasn't his way when training to take it easy. He had to push himself harder, he had to do the task at hand better. He had to draw faster. It was the only way to get stronger.

That's what he had been doing since the early hours of the morning when he left his compound, standing on the edge of the water and drawing his sword, only to re-sheath it and draw it again. These sorts of exercises were common for him though what was uncommon was the vigor that he had been putting into it. Ever since that incident at the Bloodriver bar, ever since returning back from the raid with Runar he'd found himself a new height to obtain. If there was one thing that he had always been proud of ever since his time at the academy it had been his speed. He'd always outclassed those around him with how fast he moved, how quick his reflexes were. So to be so easily outclassed by a man who he hardly knew, a man who had been in the village just as long if not longer than himself, it was inexcusable. If he wasn't the fastest anymore, it simply meant he needed to work a bit harder in order to become the fastest once again.

He took a deep breath in through his nose, his chest puffing up for a moment before he let it out. His hands gripped tight on the hilt of his sword and his sheath, the shaking in his digits stopping. He took in another breath, holding it. Then he let it out slow and as the last bit of air left his lungs he unleashed his blade from the sheath. A flash of steel, a blinding blur, a sudden rise in the surf as the water parted from the force of his draw, his wet hair and white cloak billowing out behind him, a line of water ending in a tapered point as the air current passed over the water and disappeared. The event was brought to a crescendo as almost in the same moment, as Aimi's blade pointed up to the sky, he reversed the motion of his draw and forced the blade back into his sheath, the impact of sword against scabbard causing the still air around him to burst outwards, the water at his feet being pushed away from him. It had all happened in a blink, in less than a second. And yet...

"Still... not... fast... enough..."

He'd been able to follow his own movements with his eyes. Despite facing out to the water and seemingly looking at the horizon, his eyes were ever focused on his right arm. He was convinced that to obtain the speed he wanted, he would have to be able to lose track of his own arm. The Yamai was aware that on some level he would always be able to perceive his arm - his muscles would always be strong enough to hold on to themselves and not have his arm rip itself off and go flying. But what was important was what his eyes could see. They were sharp, just as sharp as his sword if not sharper, and he'd been able to pick up four distinct moments in the time it had taken him to draw his sword and replace it just then. The flash of steel as it emerged into the light. The blur that signified the movement of his arm and sword across his body. The angle of his arm and sword as they were held up in the air. The returning blur as he sheathed his weapon. It wasn't enough. He needed to be faster. To get the speed he wanted, his arm needed to disappear entirely from his sight: Even better, his arm needed to appear as if it hadn't moved at all.

It was in such a state that another shinobi approached Aimi from behind. He didn't turn to look at him as he spoke, nor did he recognize the sound of his voice. It was someone he'd never met before... and... had he just asked to be trained by him? Aimi's damp brow furrowed and he looked out over the horizon. For a moment whoever it was behind him didn't really exist, although he was aware of their presence. He instead tried to focus on the number of times he had drawn his sword that day. He didn't know. He'd lost track hours ago when the distraction of counting out the draws of his weapon had been overshadowed by the pain in his muscles. He tried to guess what time it was based on how light it was outside, landing somewhere between noon and four PM. It was always so hard to tell with the thick mist... he hadn't had lunch yet. He decided he could afford a break. With a last deep breath caught and released, Aimi drew his sword one last time for the moment, unleashing yet another lightning fast strike across the surface of the water that ended in him re-sheathing his weapon and turning his back on it as he faced the younger shinobi who now faced him, asking for his tutelage.

"Would you now?" he asked between breaths, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of water crashing against itself as it fought to retain it's former shape before the jounin had indirectly acted upon it. He let his right hand fall down to his side, the blister starting to heal up immediately. His left hand moved up to the pommel of his blade and rested his palm on it. He looked the boy over, breathing heavily. "I'm sorry... who are you again?" he asked after a moment, his words still divided from each other by intakes of breath.


Stat trained: Speed
1239/1000

[Izanagi]

Shinjiro marvelled at the dedication of the white-haired man. His stance was excellent and every draw of his sword was done with remarkable speed, power and precision. In fact Shinjiro couldn’t even see the movement of the blade no matter how hard he tried, he could only witness the effect, the parting of water as the slash extended outward and the loud displacement of air as it was sheathed. ‘He’s even faster than Riku, perhaps at the level of Zai or even father’ he speculated. Until he could train himself to notice such speeds however it was impossible to make an accurate comparison. In fact when Shinjiro struck with his fastest attacks he couldn’t even perceive his own motion, a flaw he vowed to rectify before utilizing his most potent techniques in combat. He had sparred against an S-rank missing ninja and managed to catch her by surprise with his speed though had left himself completely vulnerable for counter attacks because of his lack of ability to adjust his attack or react quickly to her movements, instead relying entirely on pre-emptive anticipation.

The only way to overcome such a shortcoming was of course to expose himself to combat at such levels, again and again until he slowly adjusted his mind to recognize the motions. This was why he only trained with those of a much higher calibre than himself. One could not truly grow sparring with lesser fighters and remaining in one’s comfort zone. The element of danger and constantly straining and fighting for every second, every breath that he was allowed to breathe, that is what it would take to elevate himself to become Kiri’s greatest weapon. Witnessing the skill of individuals such as Shiv, Zai, Kuro and now Aimi made him feel weak in comparison but it also kept him hungry and driven. As Shinji was ignored he felt a slight sense of apprehension, perhaps this man didn’t consider him worthy to teach? Or perhaps he was simply too focused on his technique to respond just yet. Whatever the case he would wait patiently, in awe of the technique he was witnessing, though his expression remained neutral, his mouth partially obscured by his scarf and his hood drawn over his head. ‘Such power…’ perhaps that was an element of his technique that was also lacking. He had incredible speed, even comparable to Aimi himself when fueled by the power of the Genma, but to produce such shockwaves, he had never come close to achieving anything like that.

There were things this man could teach him that Kuro simply could not. Raw destructive power and styles of direct fighting, the ability to decimate an army. He craved such power for himself and he could even feel the Genma within him stirring at the prospect of laying waste to so many human lives. There was also the fact that unlike Kuro this man practiced a true sword style, having what Shinji considered a mastery over the art of Iaido. His own talents were considered exceptional, easily Jounin level though there was evidently much more he could do to improve his technique. One way or another he would learn something from this man, through observation, combat or proper tutelage and instruction. That much he was certain of. He had went out of his way to find the man, he wouldn’t turn back simply from being ignored. After several long moments and another ripple of the water and resounding impact bursting outwards from the man, Aimi finally addressed Shinjiro’s presence.

His predatory green eyes met those of the Yamai. Certainly the white haired man was more imposing, nearly half a foot taller, more muscular and a good fifty pounds heavier. Ordinarily a person’s build mattered little to Shinjiro, a shinobi’s physical stature often meant little in terms of actual power and ability, though in Aimi’s case he was well aware that the man could back up his appearance. The young Jinchuriki considered for a moment how to respond, the mention of him being a host hadn’t resonated with the man so bringing up his affiliation with the swordsmen likely mattered little to him as well nor did it seem like the type of person to rampage through a bar would care much for formal introductions. Ultimately he decided to keep it simple and to the point. “Karagata Shinjiro” he repeated. That was about as straightforward as it would get for a first introduction, he could never bring himself to omit his last name, his family simply meant far too much to him to not honor them in that way. “You can call me Shinji if you’d like” he added. The situation still felt tense and he honestly didn’t have much of an idea of this man’s personality aside from the handful of rumors as well as his brief observation of the man back in Fur Country. Watching the man closely, Shinjiro knew that if he wanted to attack there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Instinct Training: 835 words

[Golnax]

"Shinjiro Karagata," Aimi repeated after a moment of quiet from him. He didn't recognize the name, or his face for that matter. He had no idea that he was facing the Kirigakure's second Jinchuriki and he had no idea that he had been on this Jinchuriki's radar since the events of Fur country months ago. Had he known, he most definitely would have been flattered. His pride would have been tickled pink and he would have accepted the offer to train him without so much as a second thought! But, he didn't know who this young man was standing before him and so was left with a dull expression on his face. What he saw was a very ordinary looking young shinobi with the most striking feature about him being his green eyes. He didn't see anything that immediately stuck out to him as belonging to any sort of clan, his name being a dead give away that he didn't not withstanding, and he just seemed all in all average in his eyes at a glance. What didn't make the Yamai turn him away immediately, however, was the fact that he'd come here to ask to be trained by him specifically. His curiosity was piqued, and he could derive that this boy had at least some ambition about him to become stronger if he'd sought him out specifically.

Sniffling, Aimi raised his left hand, already healed of the forming blister and the soreness that had been just a few moments before, and ran it through the damp clumps of hair clinging to his forehead back over the top of his skull, getting his bangs out of the way of his sight. He didn't feel like he honestly at the time at the moment to train the boy standing before him, not while he was training himself at least. He could put him on some monotonous task like drawing his sword from his sheath over and over again but that wasn't exactly being a good teacher. The alternative was to incorporate the boy into his own training regiment, which really wasn't possible at that point in time... or was it? A faint idea began to creep into Aimi's mind, one that quickly blossomed into a full grown bush of possibility. There was something that he could get out of this boy while also teaching him. In fact, his appearance was almost too perfect. He'd been meaning to test something out for a while now, but his usual set of peers, barring Nishiki who was currently too weak, being too powerful to test it safely. But this boy...

The jounin stepped forward towards Shinjiro, walking up the beach and closing the ten meter distance between them. His steps were carefully measured and light, his feet hardly making a sound on the sand as he approached. Without the constant physical exercise of drawing his sword, his breathing began to grow steadier, a testament to his stamina. By the time he was standing right in front of Shinjiro his chest had stopped heavily rising and falling altogether. "Alright, Shinjiro," he said. "I'll train you, but first I need you to do something for me." He paused, reaching up and wiping his hand across his nose to fling a stray bead of sweat away. Then he spoke again, stating his request plainly and simply.

OOC: Skip to 53 seconds! I couldn't embed the video so that it would start there on it's own sadly


For extra emphasis, the Yamai repeated the statement for a third time, adrenaline rushing through his body at the thought. "I want you, to hit me, as hard as you can. Don't even think about it, just c'mon," he said, holding his hand up and curling his fingers inward as an open invitation to strike at him and lightly jumping on the spot to get his blood flowing. It was certainly an odd request, sure, but he could take it. He knew he could take it. His mind was already picturing multiple ways that Shinjiro could hit him. A punch to the gut, sword slash to the torso, maybe a ninjutsu of some sort, maybe he'd pull out his most destructive taijutsu and hit him point blank. Whatever it was the boy would do, he knew that he would be fine if nothing else because his body wouldn't let him die as he had kept him alive so many times before. This time was different, though. This time he didn't want to leave it up to his body alone. He wanted to get involved, he wanted to quicken the process. He wanted to see if it was possible to manipulate his body in such a way that he could make that process go by quicker.

"C'mon! Before I lose my nerve!" he encouraged, standing still on the spot and widening his stance, steadying himself for whatever was about to come his way. Already he was focusing on healing himself from the damage that was to come. He breathed in deep and let it out, puffing up his cheeks and clearing his mind. He couldn't afford to be distracted by anything around him, he needed to keep his mind solely on Shinjiro right up until the moment that he was struck by something - whatever it would be, then he needed to be prepared to focus solely on fixing the damage he was about to take. There was no way of knowing if this was going to work properly or not, but truth be told he hadn't ever really tested out the limits of his regenerative capabilities. Ever since he'd underwent the surgery performed by Hideki years and years back which had unlocked the potential within him, he'd only ever really let things hit him if there was no way for him to avoid it. Not counting his training with his fellow Yamai when he learned how to heal his bones, this would be among the first times that he openly allowed himself to be hit for the sake of testing his limits. There was an inkling of fear inside of him, fear of the unknown, but it was vastly over shadowed by his excitement and adrenaline! He was ready! He could take it! He just waited on Shinjiro to act!

Jutsu TrainedShow

[Regeneration Arts: Asceticism]
S-Ranked Taijutsu Stance
Prerequisites: [Medicine], [Rigid Structure], [Heavenly Body Control], 35 Instinct, Regenerative ability
Over time, through many battles, much pain and endless trauma, a warrior may learn how to better reject the suffrage of combat. Through this Discipline, they are able to shrug off the inevitable results of battle faster. They are able to accomplish this feat by focusing their entire body towards a singular goal - healing. To achieve such focus, they must enter a trance state in which they become temporarily unaware of the world around them while remaining still and conscious. The user cannot use ninjutsu or genjutsu while using this stance. This Stance allows the user to heal wounds as though they were 3 wound types lesser than what they are.

467/1320

[Izanagi]

It was difficult to tell whether or not Aimi had any idea who Shinjiro was, certainly he gave no indication of it via his expression or tone although it was quite common for shinobi of Kirigakure to be rather stoic and thus have few tells. In the end Shinjiro decided it didn’t matter much in the end. If he agreed to train him he would find out soon enough. In fact the idea of being underestimated and seen as just an average Chunin was quite appealing to him, if that was the case he might even catch the Jounin off guard, a prospect that excited him greatly. There wasn’t much the teenager lived for outside of combat and serving his village and any opportunity to hold his own against or even defeat a superior ranked shinobi was something he couldn’t pass up. As Aimi slowly approached, Shinjiro carefully watched the way he moved, attempting to infer anything about his pattern that might suggest his preferred approach in combat. Was he the type to rush straight in with overwhelming speed? Did he utilize acrobatics or misdirection to attack from above or behind? There was much one could learn to anticipate by studying a target long enough.

The closer Aimi approached the more unsettled Shinjiro became. He was a close combat fighter himself of course but he preferred to keep control of the distance between himself and others, only moving in close when it was time for him to strike and not the other way around. Judging from the way Aimi approached, light on his feet, careful, consistent and yet confident strides, it was likely he was someone who utilized the range of his own techniques to defend, standing his ground and then closing the distance only when necessary against the type of opponent he wished to strike down pre-emptively. The problem was Shinjiro didn’t quite know the extent of the man’s range or the versatility of his techniques, there was much to explore before he could begin to strategize on how to anticipate and evade such measures before Aimi had even taken him seriously enough to use his full speed. These were all thoughts that crossed through his mind as he forced himself to remain completely calm and focused in the presence of a superior combatant in an unpredictable situation.

He too noted how quickly the seemingly exhausted man recovered. Evidently he couldn’t count on fatigue as a factor, the only thing he had still going for him then was that Aimi would be overconfident and leave himself vulnerable if he did become a threat. His instincts screamed at him to retreat, make some kind of distance and not let Aimi close in, though the influence of the Genma had been shaping him to become more bold and fearless. And so he stood his ground, a faint glow of green chakra emanated from his fingers before claws extended out from the tips, reminiscent of some kind of predator, a bear or wolverine perhaps. He didn’t relax as the man stated that he would train him but he was relieved. At the Jounin’s request a grin formed under his scarf and the slight twitch of his facial muscles and the way his eyes seemed to slight up indicated that rather than surprised or hesitant he was quite prepared. This was just his sort of training, all his life he had been drilled to act without hesitation when the time came, always committing one hundred percent even if it meant putting himself in mortal danger, only ever retreating if it was determined there was no chance of victory whatsoever.

Aimi wouldn’t have time to offer him any encouragement, nor pump himself up or even raise his hand in invitation. “I wa-“ the man had started, attempting to state his request the second time and in that instant Shinjiro lashed out. Hands like spears his left hand lashed out, aiming to sever the carotid artery on the right side of the man’s neck, effectively shutting off oxygenated blood to the brain and ordinarily causing a person to bleed to death unless compressed and treated within a minute or so. He would move quite quickly, faster than many Jounin in fact though he wouldn’t stop there. He could tell Aimi made no motion to defend which meant that he didn’t consider an attack such as that a true threat to him. Without slowing even a fraction of a second Shinjiro continued the assault, his right hand aiming for the collarbone, testing the durability of the man’s bones. He knew the attack wouldn’t be successful but he wanted to gauge just how much resistance there was. It was enough in fact to chip the ends of his claws and send a heavy reverberation through his body and that was even without enhancing his bones unless he had missed the man performing seals or channelling chakra. With one last strike, his left hand darting to sever the muscle of the man’s shoulder he would dart backwards and assess the situation, hands already raised to the hilts of each of his swords.

He noted how quickly the man’s wounds closed themselves and once again excitement flooded through him. Green chakra was already flooding into his back as he spoke, “So, you’re like Kuro then. I guess that means I don’t have to hold back!” he exclaimed, the first sign of emotion flooding into his voice. Dark wings sprouted from his back, larger than his body they unfurled outward, black and sinewy. Aimi wouldn’t have long to marvel at them however and while he would be able to track the movement fairly well he would surely be surprised by the fact that there would even be a blur at all. The roughly 3 meters of space between them that had just been created would be closed in an instant. In fact the young assassin and dagger of the seven swordsmen now moved only slightly slower than Aimi himself.

Once within range, having to move only about 2 meters Shinji’s right hand would draw its katana. The strike would impact on a diagonal angle, starting just below the man’s left collarbone, drawing across the heart and aiming to cleave open his chest and even slice into his lungs and liver before coming back across horizontally, disembowelling him across the stomach and then striking again from an upward angle and slicing through both the carotid artery and jugular on the left side of the man’s neck, continuing into a horizontal slash across the thighs a down to upward strike across the opposite side of the chest now and finally a slash across the pelvis. Darting on an angle as his sword sheathed Shinjiro would then position himself behind the man, twisting his body and actually silently spinning in the air as his left hand lashed out with full power and torque to slice open the man’s hamstrings, sheathing in the same instant as Shinji’s wings unfurled and with a powerful series of flaps moved him backwards at a 45 degree angle before his feet even touched the ground. The young assassin would hover about 5 meters into the air and about 7 meters away from away from Aimi, watching curiously to see if the man survived. Kuro had survived his best and this man was likely even sturdier than him considering the density of his bones and the fact that he was a Yamai…still, it seemed unfathomable that a human body could survive such trauma, truly a terrifying thought that such beings existed who could recover from ordinarily fatal wounds. It certainly made his job much harder though for the purposes of training there was no one better to test his technique against.

835+1292= 2127 words Instinct Training

Jutsu UsedShow

Claws of Fury
D-Ranked Partial Kaerujutsu
Focusing chakra into his hands Shinjiro is able to extend 3-inch long claws from his fingertips which are able to retract at will. These claws are quite sharp and sturdy, equivalent to that of a kunai.

*[Totem Style • Cobra's Strikes]
D-Ranked Taijutsu Stance
The user folds their hands over where the thumb and fingers make a cone-like point. Their defenses consist of dips and sways to dodge attacks. Their offenses are focused on pin point application of pressure using these points and lightning quick strikes.

*[Totem Style • Cobra's Bite]
C-Ranked Taijutsu Maneuver
Prerequisite: *[Totem Style • Cobra's Strikes]
The user makes a string of rapid attacks aimed at the collarbone, throat, and shoulder. They focus more on speed than power, causing each attack to be slightly weak but still damaging and very draining. If the user has more strength than their opponent the collarbone will be broken, the shoulder severely bruised and difficult to move, and they will have trouble breathing.

Assassins Flight
A-Ranked Partial Kaerujutsu
This transformation allows Shinji to grow a pair of large bat wings from his upper back. Each wing is 3 meters long and 1.5 meters wide and typically brown or black in color. These wings are fully functional allowing Shinji flight capabilities. As an extension of his body Shinji has learned how to fly and move as swiftly and silently as he normally would. + 6 Speed, + 5 Taijutsu, - 4 Strength, -2 Control

*[Iaido • Execution Draw]
A-Rank Taijutsu Maneuver
Prerequisite: 30 speed, 30 Taijutsu
In a single moment, the user of this technique delivers a series of six blindingly fast slashes, all aimed at specific vital locations. First the user unsheaths their blade in a diagonal slash aimed to bisect their chest, then using the same momentum for the next five slashes, twists their wrist to bring the blade back across the stomach, throat, thighs and chest before finishing the assault with a slash aimed to bisect the pelvic cradle before immediately resheathing the blade in the same motion as the final slash. By twisting the wrist and maintaining momentum throughout the combination attack, each slash is made as if the blade had just been unsheathed, and the entire attack occurs in less than a second. If even one of these slashes land solidly it could easily prove to be fatal.

*[Iaido • Iai Beheading Draw]
B-Rank Taijutsu Maneuver
Prerequisite: *Iaido • Beheading Draw, 25 Speed
With a Variation of the Beheading Draw technique, the user forces a very quick snap of tension and torque through their arm as they draw their sword sending it vertically or across with great speed. With its speed, the strike takes on a blur, many times not even appearing to be drawn from its sheath. This slash is also incredibly powerful with its speed, able to slice through stone in most cases with enough power.

*[Iaido • Breakneck Sheath]
B-Rank Taijutsu Maneuver
Prerequisite: 25 Speed
Through incredible amounts of practice the user of this technique has gained such a vast knowledge of Iaido and their sheath in particular that they have perfected the art of sheathing their sword. As such, they can sheath their weapon single handed if need be, and can do so with the same blinding speed that they would deliver a slash with, allowing them to chain together attacks with even more speed than before.

[Golnax]

Shinjiro's attack was instant and viscous, the young teenager obviously eager to begin. He lashed out at Aimi and went immediately for the throat and the jounin let him. He felt the pain of his claws tearing through his flesh and his body... relaxed, to an extent. His words went quiet on his lips and his face went slack. He staggered backwards as blood spurted out of his neck and the emerald eyed shinobi continued his assault on Aimi's person. It was strange, really. Despite the fact that he was being attacked, that he was in pain, that he was letting himself be the victim of someone's all out assault, the world seemed to get... quiet. Things grew fuzzy for Aimi and he knew that it wasn't from blood loss, not this quickly. He took another step backwards and his stance grew sturdy. His vision seemed to blur slightly and he felt as though he were going numb all over. His eyelids grew heavy and he slowly let them close, the jounin's figure going slack as he slipped from true and proper consciousness and reverted back to a subconscious mental state, where nothing around him was real except for his own body. His eyes shut, his shoulders slumped, his head tilted forward and Aimi was gone from the world.

And his body got to work. The wound that Shinjiro had inflicted upon his shoulder had been light but well placed and aimed for a critical spot on his body. The jab to his shoulder and collarbone had left him with little more than bruises. They healed instantly, even before the bruises could properly form. His neck, too, regenerated itself, the effect much faster than it normally would have been since he was dedicating every part of himself to the act of healing. He didn't hear Shinjiro as he called out to him. He didn't hear anything. The world was a black void as far as he was concerned and he was the only thing that existed inside of that void. Nothing, that is, except pain. The pain in his neck, the pain in his collar and shoulder. The latter two vanished quickly but the pain in his neck radiated like heat in the vacuum around him, dulling and slowly fading as his body healed.

The assault wasn't over yet though. More pain came into existence in his world as Shinjiro attacked him from outside of it, his katana biting and cleaving into his flesh. Aimi simply stood there and took the damage as it was dealt to him, unable to move even if he wanted to and most certainly not wanting to move so that he could further test his body. He was aware of each cut that was made to him, how the edge cleaved into his body and how his nerves screamed in pain as skin, muscle and other parts of his flesh were cleaved into. He felt his stomach being sliced open and his neck being torn into on the opposite side. He felt the large X that was now on his torso and he most CERTAINLY felt the slice across his pelvis. This slice in particular, however, would prove detrimental to Shinjiro and his efforts of training with the Yamai as, unbeknownst to either of them in the fury of the moment, Shinjiro's attack to his pelvis would slice through his cloak, forcing it to fall away from the front of him and reveal his nudity underneath, a fact that Aimi would only be made aware of once the trance was broken.

The assault still not over with, Aimi was aware also of the slash against his hamstrings, the cut against the back of his legs making his knees buckle slightly as his body struggled to keep itself upright. Blood gushed out of each and every one of his wounds, painting his white skin red and splattering the sand at both of their feet in his blood. The damage to his body was quite substantial and would have killed anyone of lesser ability than himself... and yet he survived. More than that, he was healing. Fast. Almost the instant that each cut was made, Aimi's body began to heal itself. In the dark, deaf world of his mind where the jounin now dwelt there was only pain, but outside that pain was fading quickly, his wounds healing up excessively quickly, quicker than they ever could have if his mind were still on Shinjiro or any of the other mundane details of the world around him. For a few moments, there was nothing except for the task at hand, healing.

Aimi's eyes remained closed and his body slack. He still had no awareness of where Shinjiro was or what he was doing, nor was he properly aware of anything that had been done to him. In truth, he didn't truly know that he'd been cut, he only assumed so because of the sensations he felt. Such was the nature of his state that only the foggiest of details in reality were known to him while all else was obscured. Even if his eyes were open, he likely wouldn't be able to see anything. He didn't need to, not in this moment. Only to heal. Slowly, bit by bit, his wounds closed in on themselves, the wounds on his neck sealing themselves and those on his torso following suit, his pelvis cut rapidly shutting and even the slash across the back of his legs regenerating at a rate that was unprecedented. Though Aimi hadn't heard him say it, Shinjiro would know just by watching him that his ability to heal far surpassed the Aisu's in terms of pure speed.

It was during this time, though, that Shinjiro would be able to wail on the jounin to his heart's content. So long as there was damage to be repaired his body would focus entirely on dealing with it; all of his energy, all of his chakra would be spent in the pursuit of repairing any and all damage that his physical form took on. Quick as the damage might be to heal, this was truly the flaw in his technique. Despite recovering from injuries that should have killed him in record timing, so long as he was recovering it was all he could do, and he could be kept in this state so long as he was receiving damage. This, of course, was something that he wasn't aware of in the moment and would only find out about later through further testing. Here and now was Shinjiro's only chance to truly beat at the man to his heart's content, even if it would be to no avail.

If the young shinobi chose not to, Aimi would remain still on the spot until the cut on the back of his legs would heal up. Once they had, his eyes would open up and he would stand up straight, taking in a deep breath in his newly repaired lungs and turning on the spot to face Shinjiro, his nude, perfectly repaired body on full display. "Alright," he'd say. "Now that you've gotten that out of your system, was there something specific that you wanted me to train you in?"


1671/1320

[Izanagi]

The motions and sensations of his attacks were familiar and second-nature, the way his claws pierced the man’s flesh, blood dripping down his fingers, the precision slashes, cutting deep into the man’s body, carving him up in what would normally leave his target in a crumpled and blood soaked heap, complete overkill for each strike alone would be enough to kill even a hardy shinobi. Yet Aimi simply stood there and allowed himself to receive such deadly wounds, Shinjiro knew that with his speed he should have been able to block, evade or counter with relative ease and he had certainly anticipated that he would be forced to upon realizing the lethal intent of his strikes. Was he truly that confident in his regeneration capabilities? It seemed like quite the gamble, even Kuro would have done all he could do avoid taking such extensive damage.

As Shinji moved out of range, flapping his wings slowly and maintaining his elevation he noticed that at least Aimi had been forced to his knees, covered head to toe in blood he expected him to collapse and either die or take several long minutes to gradually heal his many critical and lethal wounds…and yet, he could see even from his angle the deep gashes on either side of his neck healing shut in a matter of seconds. Another five or ten seconds and his torso had mended the hanging flaps of flesh back together, Shinji had circled around in front of the man, drifting slowly, he could hardly believe what he was seeing, it didn’t seem humanly possible. He could tell the man was clearly vulnerable, eyes closed, kneeling and apparently naked. Instead of surprise however his expression was only one of fear and hesitation. The young assassin could feel the heavy onset of fatigue, he had put everything he had into that attack, harnessing his fastest form and most deadly technique though the strain such speed put on his body was substantial. ‘..I can’t win, it’s impossible’ he realized, shaken to his core. He had half a mind to retreat right there, just in case Aimi had the intent to retaliate upon regaining full function of his body. He was breathing short breaths, making the slightest bit of sound compared to his normally silent breathing and movement. That was about the extent of a visual confirmation that he was growing tired, in fact he doubted he could actual maintain flight for more than a few minutes without resting first. Stamina was not something he focused on much, until now he had always either won or lost a match within the first minute, often even quicker. Perhaps that statement was still true however, for he had certainly lost, if not physically than mentally.

Hesitant he continued to fly in place, waiting to see Aimi’s reaction. Perhaps if he was lucky the chakra expenditure of such remarkable and unprecedented healing would leave the Yamai drained or at least close to it. Somehow however he doubted that very much especially if his earlier recovery rate was any indication. Surely there was some limit to how much he could heal himself though Shinjiro knew he didn’t have the endurance necessary to reach those limits. Clearly this man was in a completely different class than Shinji and there was much he still needed to work on, speed and efficiency evidently was not always enough.

When the man’s eyes opened Shinjiro readied himself once more for combat, though he sincerely hoped the man wouldn’t come at him with the same ferocity, beyond evasion he had no real defense that would be useful against someone of Jounin caliber or above as this man seemed to be. The teenager relaxed slightly as Aimi spoke in a passive tone, though he quickly became quite uncomfortable as the man’s nudity was allowed to be more fully registered now that the fear had subsided somewhat. Descending, Shinji’s wings would retract and fade away, dispersing into green chakra as he landed. His breathing was still elevated, his scarf had been shifted in his attacks, no longer covering his mouth and so too had his hood been pushed back exposing his medium length brown hair. “The way you create air pressure with your Iaido techniques…I’ve never seen anything like that before..” he stated as his eyes awkwardly moved about, not sure where to look. Eye contact felt odd and now that the man was naked suddenly every part of his body seemed strange to look at. The kid wasn’t accustomed to nudity at all and wasn’t sure if he had ever even seen anyone naked before aside from himself. He had no idea how to handle such a situation and the fact that he was still wary of Aimi as a warrior meant that he couldn’t bring himself to look away completely less leave himself vulnerable to attack. Was he supposed to make mention of it though or just pretend it was normal? “…Sorry about your cloak” he stated in a roundabout way of addressing the issue at hand.

Shinjiro’s mouth was still agape, slow, heavy breaths fogging against the chilly air. He still couldn’t believe the man was still alive and while he felt some of his Stamina return after his wings dispersed he knew he had still used up most of his energy already. The young teenager shifted his stance as Aimi seemed to get upset. For once he was at a loss, unsure of whether he should ready himself to defend or retreat in case the man wished to take vengeance upon him. Likely it wouldn’t have mattered regardless, his life was in the Jounin’s hands and Shinji would soon learn whether or not seeking this man out had been a grave mistake. Given the tone of annoyance rather than rage and the lack of an aura of killing intent the assassin relaxed slightly. He was beginning to accept that there was nothing he could do. The brown haired boy scratched the back of his head, showing some minor signs of still being a kid and not entirely a weapon for the village, “I’m really sorry about that. You know how it is, once you start a sequence of attacks it’s hard to think about things like that” he apologized. It was rare for him to display any sort of remorse but he had been attempting to grow as a person, discover what it meant to have friends and value the lives of people.

1043/1000 Words Stamina

[Golnax]

Aimi immediately took notice of the boy's wings. He couldn't help but smile a bit, his lips curling up at the sight of those extra appendages of his keeping him aloft. 'Another shinobi with capabilities of flight? What fun!' he couldn't help but think to himself. If training with this boy worked out, the jounin suspected that he could practice aerial combat with the young boy. He was still left with the question of where had they come from, though. He hadn't seen the wings before he was attacked so he could safely conclude that they'd been produced somehow between the moment Shinjiro attacked him and when his consciousness came back to the surface. What was more interested about the wings, though, was how they disappeared as Shinjiro landed, that burst of green chakra signalling to the jounin that they were the result of some sort of special ability, similar, perhaps, to the worms that Kuro had within his body. He also took notice of how the boy's eyes didn't seem to want to rest on him. He wasn't sure why, though. Aimi thought it was possible that he was just intimidated by the fact that he'd survived what was presumably the harshest onslaught that the boy could muster. He wouldn't have blamed him if such were the case, but his second statement put reality into clarity for him.

"Hm? My cloak?" he asked, wondering why he'd brought it up. At first he thought maybe Shinji had caused some blood to get on it which, looking down at himself he saw was the case, but it became immediately clear that wasn't what he was talking about as the realization of just how nude he was became. "Oh... Oh. Oh! Oh you son of a bitch! Why'd you go for my cloak!? I only have like three of these you know!" he said, groaning out in annoyance more than anything, obviously much more upset about the fact that his clothing was ruined than he was standing there in the buff. Kneeling down on his haunches, Aimi picked up the two pieces of cloak from off of the ground and tied the ends together before standing up and wrapping the remains of his cloak around his waist and tying it off again, tucking it into his belt for good measure. Though he now looked like he was wearing a white mini skirt with red accents along the waist, it sufficed to cover up his nudity.

"So anyways, you're interested in my Iaido, yeah? Specifically my Dragon Strike? How'd you learn about that anyways? I don't remember telling you about it or showing you..." he said, figuring that Shinjiro must have heard about it from somewhere in the village. He shrugged his shoulders and let out a little sigh, turning his back on the younger ninja and facing the water again. He brought his hands up to his sheathed sword and grabbed onto it and the sheath tightly before unleashing a Dragon Strike, his arms moving at blinding speeds as his sword was removed from the sheath and a wave of cutting air was sent flying out over the water quite a few meters before dissipating again. "It's actually not terribly impressive or complex," he said, sheathing his sword and half turning back towards Shinjiro to look at him. "All I'm doing is removing my sword from it's sheath very hard and very fast. The resulting slice of air is just a byproduct of how much force I put behind the swing. Anyone could do it with enough dedication and practice, though it'd be hard to achieve, mind you."

He turned around and looked down the shore line, trying to think of something else to show to Shinjiro that would get his point across better. Turning his head to look back at him, Aimi held up his arm with his palm flat facing the young boy, saying, "Keep a distance of about five meters for safety. And keep up so I don't have to shout at you," he said, beginning to walk down the shoreline. He spoke as he walk. "I've been a practitioner of Iaido for years, I started when I was younger than you are. Since then, I've learned so much about the sword, the sheath, the draw and everything in between. Parlor tricks like the Dragon Strike are child's play and simple. Just an application of force and speed together as one. Where Iaido truly shines, though, is in it's speed. Iaido's Kenjutsu is so powerful only because it's so fast. If utilized properly, fights will be over before they've had a chance to begin, but achieving such speed takes a life time of work and dedication. Once you have it, though, it's really only a matter of what you can imagine your body doing and then executing that thought to make it reality. You'll have to find your limits in terms of speed and then break past them time and time again, but if you can manage it... Well, let me show you."

Aimi stopped and turned around on the spot, looking down the way he had come and estimating the distance by his foot steps in the sand. He measured it to be roughly thirty five meters, which was perfect for what he wanted to do. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, suddenly realizing just how tired he was. On top of training for hours on end to improve his speed, he'd just taken a rather serious set of injuries and forced his body to heal faster than it normally would have. He was actually pretty exhausted and could have used the break he had set out to get before Shinji arrived, but he wasn't totally spent yet. Aimi knew that he had enough strength in him to perform at least one more feat of physical excellence to prove his point. He turned his gaze back upon Shinjiro and said, "Remember, about five meters for safety." His warning given, Aimi turned back to the front of him and widened his stance. He pushed his right foot forward and slid his left foot out and around backwards, planting his feet firmly in the sand. He bent his knees slightly and hunched his shoulders, his hands moving to his left him, left hand grabbing the sheath of his sword and his right hand grabbing onto the handle.

Taking in another deep breath, Aimi would let it all out in a huff and then would seem to disappear to Shinjiro, the only sign of his having been where he was standing the cloud of sand kicked up by his feet as he dashed forward. It wouldn't be the only sign of his movement, though. A thirty five meter long line of sand would burst upwards to mark his path across the shoreline, marking his path directly forward as he closed the distance between where he had moved to and where he had been struck by the younger shinobi in an instant. Among this line of sand would be minor distortions in the air, dozens of them, shaped as crescents that followed Aimi's blade's path as he had rushed forward, a corkscrew effect forming as a result of it. How Aimi had achieved this feat was simple and yet to someone not as physically able as him impossible to grasp. As he had dashed forward, Aimi had drawn his blade from it's sheath and sliced at the air directly in front of him, twisting his wrist at the top of the arc and swinging his sword downwards in front of him from two o' clock to seven o' clock. Once at seven, he would twist his wrist again and bring it back up to two, repeating this fluid motion of cutting back and forth over and over as he dashed forward at incredible speeds, creating large X shaped slashes in the air behind him.

As he came to a stop, sand bursting up around him, Aimi would sheath his blade. Right as the guard of his sword touched the sheath, the final demonstration of his speed and technique would display itself as the distortions in the air all lashed outwards, the momentary pause in their animation ruptured after an instant had paced. The slashed air jumped outwards up to a distance of 3 meters away from where the slash had originally occurred, sending the sand exploding outwards harmlessly to both sides of Aimi, pelting Shinjiro and destroying the path that Aimi had tread to get from one place to the next. The technique performed, the Yamai stood up straight and let out a tired sigh, his grip relaxing on his blade as he turned around on the spot and looked over at Shinjiro. He whistled loudly to get his attention and lifted his sweaty right arm up over his head, waving it back and forth in order to get his attention.

"Did you see what I did there? I doubt it, but did you see?" he shouted out, half taunting and half teasing the young boy who had sought him out to train under him in the ways of Iaido. The white haired jounin rather thought that it was a fitting display of his capabilities and innovation with the style of Iaido, if not a very exhausting one. He'd dubbed the technique, rather bluntly, Rapid Slash because it was just that - a series of rapid slashes. What made it such an effective maneuver was that it had two effects in one in it. Rapid Slash was a bull rush forward that let Aimi slash at anything directly in front of him, and to some extent to the side though only to the reach of his blade, while the delayed slashes of air he left behind him after using it would make it so that anything he missed would be struck by the cutting air, or anything he did hit would be hit again if it wasn't able to get out of the way in time. He knew that with this technique he could even hit an enemy who was fully prepared to defend at him from the front from behind as the slashes of air would strike any undefended back that was unfortunate enough to not be guarded.

What the Yamai wanted to know was if Shinjiro would be able to pick up on all of that, or if it would be lost to him in wake of the jounin's incredible speed?

Jutsu TrainedShow

[Iaido • Rapid Slash]
A-Ranked Kenjutsu Maneuver
Prerequisite: [Heavenly Body Control]
The user grabs a hold of the hilt of their blade and their scabbard before dashing forward up to a distance equal to the user's Strength in meters. While dashing, the user draws their blade and rapidly slashes back and forth, leaving a corkscrew shaped trail of slashes behind them. So swift is this technique that it is akin to a "flash", being impossible to see unless the opponents' Instinct is greater than or equal to the user's Speed. These slashes linger in the air a moment before lashing out at anything and everything within a 3 meter distance of the user's trail. The slashes of air strike with 3/5 the user's Strength. This technique is capable of hitting an opponent from behind.

908/830

[Izanagi]

Already his breathing was beginning to steady, unlike Aimi however this was not so much an indication of recovered Stamina but rather a testament to his control over his body and his breathing. He had been trained to remove all sound of his presence, muffling his footsteps, breathing and even his heart rate to a level that was very difficult to detect without some sort of enhanced hearing. That required a certain practiced rhythm and the ability to conceal signs of fatigue even when one’s body felt like it was about to collapse. Shinji nodded, verifying his interest. “I observed you sparring with a Samurai back in Fur Country, I’ve trained extensively since then and yet I’m still nowhere near your level” he explained with a calm and even tone. He was beginning to realize that he looked up to this man, before he had simply been a goal to overcome but now with the element of fear came a great respect and appreciation for the combat skills Aimi possessed. He was one of the few individuals that he wasn’t entirely sure he could surpass, for he trained just as hard as Shinji did, perhaps even harder and had years of experience and time on his side.

To think that Aimi would consider such a feat not very impressive was truly a testament to his level of skill. Shinji furrowed his brow, it sounded so simple but he knew that the amount of speed, strength and control over one’s body necessary to achieve such a feat was of the likes that even a shinobi could spent their entire life pursuing and still fall drastically short. If anyone were able to reach that level however it would be him. He was a Karagata, a Jinchuriki and a prodigy of the mist village, failure was not an option, only greatness. “I see” he said simply and yet there was a churning in his gut, a feeling of disappointment in himself that was replaced quickly by a fire of burning determination. His predatory green eyes focused on the man before him. Even if he was weak now he would observe, he would learn and he would push himself to be better. One day he would stand as Aimi’s equal and as long as he surrounded himself by mentors who represented the pinnacle of the mist villages strength then he too would achieve their greatness.

Shinjiro nodded abruptly, his attention rapt as Aimi gave him orders. He dart backwards, about 6 meters just to err on the side of caution. “As you command” he replied obediently. When it came to those weaker than him the boy was often flippant or just plain violent towards them but a superior whom had proven themselves brought out a side of him typically reserved for his interactions with his father. Shinjiro shadowed the man flawlessly, moving silently and maintaining his distance step for step, he even moved slightly off center from behind the man so that they could hear one another a little easier than if he had remained directly behind him. The way he spoke about Iaido was rather insightful. Shinjiro had only been practicing in the style of swordsmanship for three years though his progress had been astounding so he had been told. The boy grinned menacingly, pulling his scarf up to obscure his facial features again, he had been trained to avoid giving away facial tells unless it was intentional or of no consequence, even so he rarely felt comfortable being too expressive within the village. “Speed is the one aspect I excel at. My problem is that my eyes can’t keep up with my own body and fatigue sets in so quickly that I can’t afford to make a single mistake or allow a target to survive any attack” he admitted, there was no point in hiding his weakness from a man whom had agreed to train him. One had to be self aware if they wished to grow. That is why Shinjiro would continue to hone his physical stamina and his perception until he could utilize his taijutsu to the fullest.

Having trailed behind Aimi and maintained his distance he only nodded when the man turned and gave him a final warning. Shinjiro prepared himself for whatever technique his newfound mentor might display. His flaws were becoming increasingly apparent in the presence of Aimi, first nearly exhausting himself within a matter of seconds and now he was once again unable to follow the man’s more intricate movements. He noted the stance at least, the way he stood with his right foot forward and left foot back, opening up his hips for a more fluid draw with a long consistant swing. Was that part of Shinjiro’s problem? He drew his swords from his back, sacrificing some of the finer points of the Samurai created style and limiting much of the strength of his draw, perhaps even more speed could be generated from such a draw style. It would be difficult to adjust to though perhaps it was worth experimenting with adding another sword to his repertoire or at least comparing the differences based on location, becoming completely fluid with all draw styles.

Raising his arm slightly Shinjiro would guard against the specks of wet sand that were spattered in his direction though he kept his eyes trained, picking up the imprints on the sand and more notably the spray generated though it all felt so delayed, by the time he saw one section of spray being kicked up there was already one or two more some meters further along the beach. Beyond attempting to track Aimi’s movement however he noted something peculiar about the air, it almost seemed like a mirage or Fuuton ninjutsu but he knew in his gut that they were afterimages of sword strikes. “Incredible” he breathed slowly, he had never been so moved by a display in all his life, even his own father never displayed a skill of such beauty. He had created a dash capable of cutting through an entire crowd or several lines of a military formation, bisecting any within his range and all in an instant. There was even a delayed effect so even someone capable of avoiding the initial slash might be caught by the sudden extended range.

Once beckoned Shinji wasted no time in running over to the man, not quite at his full speed but enough to cross the distance in a matter of seconds. “That was…beautiful and awe inspiring” he confessed. There was some emotion in his tone, a great reverence and appreciation for the display he had been allowed to witness. “I couldn’t see your movement itself, not even the motions of your sword but to form so many slashes you couldn’t have sheathed your blade between each one. The way the air was distorted and lingered, being molded into a weapon through sheer force and speed…thank you, thank you for showing me the heights one can reach” he said, feeling immensely grateful. He could have never imagined that Aimi possessed this level of skill or beauty to his swordsmanship. All his life Shinji had focused on simple efficiency, seeing his blade as a tool much like himself to slay enemies of Kirigakure but this was something else, this was true artistry and now he saw that Iaido could be so much more than just a fast killing strike.

1237/1000 Instinct Training

[Golnax]

Aimi panted heavily as Shinjiro ran over to him. He immediately somewhat regretted performing that technique at that particular point in time because of the strain it had put on his already tired body. His shoulders were throbbing and his right arm in particular felt as if it were trying to grow three times it's ordinary size! Between that, the hours of practice he'd spent trying to improve the speed of his sword draw and the rapid regeneration that he had undertaken after letting Shinjiro attack him, the jounin was actually physically exhausted. As the younger ninja caught up to him and began to let him know of just what he thought of his impressive physical display, the Yamai couldn't deny that he felt a bit of the weariness seem to fade as his pride was stroked. He couldn't help but feel proud after receiving praise for something genuinely impressive that he had done! It filled his spirits with glee to no end to have his technique described as beautiful and awe inspiring, but his body was quick to remind him of the cost of that awe as he tried to straighten up and a flare of heat reared it's head in his lower back.

More than that though, he recalled his encounters with both Heidrun and Runar as Shinjiro thanked him for showing the heights a person could reach. The smile fell from his face as he was once again reminded that he himself hadn't reached the heights of those two perfect strangers who were so much faster and stronger than he was respectively. He remembered the sudden fear he'd felt as he watched a woman from Konoha demonstrate her superior strength to him so casually, obliterating a tree before his very eyes. He recalled the night not too long ago when a man he'd never heard of moved faster than he had ever seen anyone move and with such ease as to surpass his own speed when moving at his quickest. These individuals, he felt, had achieved what he had yet to. They were what he was working towards, the end goal that Shinjiro thought he had displayed just moments before.

"That... that wasn't the height of human ability," he stated bluntly to Shinjiro, placing his left hand on his hip and gripping it tightly in an effort to keep himself from bending over and grabbing his knees. "Nor was it the height of what I can achieve. That was more like a mid point between what is possible and what I am ultimately capable of. I just... I'm very tired right now, in case you hadn't noticed. And I'm working towards becoming all that I can be... I'm just not there yet..." He trailed off, unable to continue or to hold up a farce of physical capability anymore. Turning the tip of his sword down towards the ground, he lightly thrust it into the sand and held the palm of his hand on the pommel, bending forward and letting out a heavy pant. He let his chest rise and fall as it wanted to. He felt every throbbing muscle in his body ache in protest of him moving so much as another inch. He let himself and Shinjiro both know that he was tired as could be, that he did in fact have limits; at least for the moment.

"If... if you really... really want me to teach you, I will... but know this," Aimi said, tilting his head up and looking at the brown haired shinobi. He ran his left hand through his white hair and pushed it back against his skull before continuing. "It's going to be grueling. It's going to be hard. Possibly the hardest training you'll ever do. You see how exhausted I am now? You should expect this from yourself every time you come to train with me, at the very least. If you truly want to see the height of human potential, then I'll help you get there... but make no illusions about the path laid before you. You'll... hoo... you'll be so sore some days you'll wish you were dead. You'll hit walls, time after time, trying to break through them, only to reach another wall to break through. As far as I know, there's no end to it... but... but if you want to move as fast as I do or faster... to be as strong as I am or stronger... this is the only way. Do... do you accept this, Shinjiro?"


751/1000 Strength Training