Obscure Realizations
Within the dim confines of his candlelit bedroom, Tobi sat on the floor, staring idly at the wall. All day he had been burdened with a horrible feeling that had left him depressed without definite reason. Lately things had been taking their toll on the genin, and he was slowly beginning to breakdown. Not even the refreshing sight of a flickering flame could reignite his passion for the world around him. It was all inward negativity, however... what other kind of anything was it with Tobi. The concealment he had built up over himself was the bane to his very existence as a functioning member of his society, where he could not properly communicate and socialize within it without complication. But he could never bring himself to change himself. No matter how he felt, this was just who he was. A kid just as lost as the hope he invested in the dreams of being something more than just a 'you' or 'that guy'...
Tobi's eyelids were almost shut as he stared unblinkingly at the dull beige of his wall. Unnoticed tears pooled up in the rim of his goggles. Unnoticed by him... unnoticed by everyone else. No one knew Tobi. Even if they saw his face, they still wouldn't know him. No matter which face he showed to the world, he was just another struggling, angst-ridden child among the legions of people who inhabited the world. Growing up, they would say. It was something that everyone would have to face. Make peace with your emotions, they would say. It was harder to do than it was to say. And even if it was accomplished, what goals could you seek afterward when you remain unnoticed by the slumbering population? It was a complex situation, as it involved the concentration of every reason a person continues to rise from their dreams day after day. People who long for love, or peace, friendship... for those that look for happiness, or love their sadness to the point of madness. It was all a point of understanding what made a person tick...
In Tobi's case, he guessed that he was driven by his desire to someday unravel some of the darker questions of his inner self. Like why sadness sprung from corners unseen, without reason, simply drowning out what was once a decent mood. He had always struggled with his thoughts, often becoming depressed over them, wishing they'd go away, or that he could run from them instead. It sunk the very core of his being, feasting upon what was left of his happiness. In a world where anything was possible... from making fire shoot from one's mouth to summoning beasts of great power to your aid, Tobi pondered how it was possible for these awful feelings to get the better of him so often. It was only as of late that it had been becoming a problem, and with no where to turn, he was his only listening ears. And so he listened... and he sunk deeper, hearing all the echoes of uselessness, bitterness, and contempt toward the person he was. Though, through all this negativity, he refused to utter the word hate. Not that he didn't feel some wicked emotion dwelling on par with such a powerful word, but giving into something like hating himself would mean giving up entirely, and he wasn't ready for that. He was thirteen, for anything almighty, and he would be damned if this wasn't just some sick stage he was going through for the utter enjoyment of some unseen force.
But he didn't want to believe that. Right now, all he wanted was something to hold. He looked behind himself, onto his bed, and grunted as he reached for a tattered , brown and cream plush European dragon. It was large, cuddly, and it had seen Tobi through thick and thin since before he could walk. It smelled a little funny, sure, and its fabric was starting to wear, but if there was anything that he could feel safe with, it was this dragon. Appropriately named “Scorch,” the stuffed dragon found its way into Tobi's lap, and the boy hugged it tightly to himself, pressing his head firmly into its smiling face. The dragon's beady black eyes watched Tobi with all the care that a reliable plush toy could, and submitted to all the pain one young boy could commute.
It could get so lonely sometimes... it was hard to be sure that there'd ever be a time in the future where he wasn't lonely. Where he wasn't so uncertain and so confused... a phase, he told himself. A phase... but how long would it last? Day after day, he was so unsure of when it would end. When he could feel well again... even if he smiled more than once a day, a smile could be so superficial that it would be better placed on the face of a liar. Even if he laughed, sounds can be just as hollow as their origin. It was all a matter of who was naive enough to believe these things associated with happiness, and who cared enough to turn around a second time after smiling and laughing with you to say, “Really, what's wrong?”
Oh, Tobi's thoughts were much more troubling than his feelings. The complexity of what he thought about was just enough to do him in further, atop of an already collapsing tower of high spirits and bountiful hope. And when it fell... well, this is what happened when it fell: Tobi hunched over his stuffed animal and made himself as small as possible to emulate his inner feelings. With the weakest of movements, he lifted his goggles from his watery blue eyes and began to sob deeply into Scorch. It was muffled by the dragon's plush body, and no one would even know it was happening. Now, Tobi wasn't generally a weak person, but there were always going to be times when everything catches up with a person and breaks them down in the worst way. But maybe people would be happier if they believed they were alright. That things were okay. Maybe everyone would feel better if they had nothing negative to feel... but where would anyone be without sadness? When your pet passes away, and there's no tears to be shed. When your heart breaks for the first time, and there's no loneliness to be felt. As Tobi sobbed, he pondered if people really did love their sadness this much. To be able to sit back and wonder why they could feel so badly, and then cry it off, just to do it again. Then there's the times when it's all an act for attention... but what for Tobi? There was no one to seek said attention from. Every bit of his reasonless depression was an honest hardship of not truly knowing what the future held for someone like him.
But nothing lasts, and neither do tears. Tobi's crying eased up after his throat began to hurt and his eyes stung from rubbing them against the scratchiness of Scorch's pelt. As though nothing had happened, he wiped his eyes and pushed his goggles back down onto them, so his parents wouldn't see their redness. He sniffled, cleared his throat, and set his trusty companion back on his bed after he stood up. He left his room and went downstairs to go to the kitchen. His parents didn't even say hello when he walked through the living area. What did they care? No, more like: Why would he want them to care? Tobi had too much going on inside of him to think for even a second that his parents would understand. Even if he wanted them to understand... what they didn't know couldn't hurt them.
After coming into the kitchen, Tobi opened one of the cupboards and took out a box of crackers, and then proceeded back up to his room, again unacknowledged by his parents. Quietly closing the door to his room, he proceeded to curl up on his bed with his snack. As he stared at the box, he was again his worst enemy. The quiet of the atmosphere was just enough to let his sickeningly incessant mind continue with its dreadful thoughts. He wanted to shake them off. The distress it was causing him was almost enough to make him whine and cry out against it. To tell it just to leave him alone. With little more than an angry, stressed grunt, he rolled over to face Scorch and opened the box of crackers. They were nothing special. Thin, hard rice crackers were enough to break teeth, and barely enough to fill bellies. He idly chewed at one, hardly moving his mouth. He just felt so tired and weak, but he fretted going to sleep. Dreams were to be feared more than reality, as they granted one's wildest fantasies only to have them stripped away at the point of wakening.
Tobi didn't want to dream just yet. He knew that when it ended, it'd just open up another day of uncertainty and struggle. And so he continued to nibble on his crackers while staring into the eyes of his beloved stuffed toy. The candle that had been slowly growing smaller all night drowned in a pit of its own wax, and the light it gave off was steadily dimming. Wind began to rattle against the unsteady panes of his window, catching Tobi's attention. He had only ingested a few crackers, but he was more than done with them, and set the box on his nightstand. Upon snuffing his candle out and closing the curtains, he was ready to lay in the solitude of his room. As he removed his apparatus from his face, he curled up under his blankets, drawing them under as well, before tugging Scorch into the mix. He hated when all of his important things weren't under the blankets at night. It made him feel as though they were cold and alone, much like he felt when excluded. So he curled himself tightly around them and tried his hardest to drift off to sleep. Just another night where dreams were indistinguishable from nightmares. A lowly transition from one day to the next... and so he drifted away, and at the second before sleep set in, he became fully aware that he was just a slave to his emotion.
Inhuman Frequency
Inhuman Frequency
Patchwork
Lately things had been abnormally lonely for Tobi. It wasn't out of the ordinary, but it simply seemed like none of his past classmates were around anymore. He figured it was because they had all been assigned teams and were off doing the tasks of a genin. Tobi, however, was lacking a team, the motivation to do missions on his own, and had no intention of honing his ninja skills at the current time. Instead, the silent boy was out on a little early-morning stroll. It wasn't that he enjoyed getting up early, but for the past week he had been having a horrible time sleeping. Terrible dreams constantly plagued him. They were terrible in the worst way too—they granted him his every wish, and then he couldn't bear when he opened his eyes and saw he was in his bed and everything that happened was all a product of his restless mind. It made his need to sleep almost obsolete, and he found himself growing increasingly able to stay up for longer periods of time despite being mentally exhausted.
So, this is how he found his weird waking hour, so early in the morn. It was barely seven o'clock, and it was already humid. Tobi's attire was never the best for where he lived. Iwagakure could get quite warm, and even if Tobi liked warmth like no other, a heat stroke never did anyone any good. He had actually been considering getting something new to wear. The other day he had noticed something that screamed “this is something I could see myself in.” From the looks of it, it was expensive, and a bit bizarre. The attire consisted of a black flame retardant full-body jumpsuit, a gas mask, fire retardant work gloves, and a pair of work boots. When Tobi saw it, it seemed like a “step-up” from his current attire. He already sported clothing that completely covered his body, and the fact that it was all geared toward heavy fire use, it was right up his alley. Although Tobi loved his scarf and goggles, he always had a special place in his heart for masks of any kind... especially gas masks. He knew this is what he wanted.
That was why Tobi was out on this fine, muggy day. Except, it was so early in the morning that nothing was open yet, giving him some time to kill. Doing what, he didn't know. There were no friendly faces around, but the pleasant sound of birds chirping away in their merriment did make up for the lack of the busy sounds of people scurrying around. Tobi wasn't feeling much better about everything either, and the peacefulness of this walk was doing him a bit of good. If there was anything he was good at, it was taking it slow. He moved like a snail, shuffling along the ground. He had no reason to be going anywhere fast. This was the pace that suited him most, but he knew that if he wanted the aforementioned suit and accessories, he would have to become more fit and agile in order to put it to good use. After all, there was one true thing that he had to get out of this, and that was the motivation to become better than he was right now. In truth, Tobi loathed the body he was in, which possibly accounted for the way he covered up nearly every inch of himself. He felt that if this attire came into his possession, he would have found his new “skin” and therefore a reason to continue on with his life, opposed to remaining as this poorly crafted human being he was now.
Speaking of poorly crafted, he plotted himself on a bench that felt like it was about to give out with the way it moaned in protest to Tobi's weight being settled upon it. Shafts of morning light coruscated through the sparsely leaved trees in the quaint little park that Tobi had stopped at. It was a pleasure for the eyes, but Tobi's goggles dimmed its brilliance. He sat quietly alone, and his mental fatigue began to catch up with him. As his eyes drifted shut, he began to lose consciousness, and drifted off into a much needed rest.
Hours drifted by before someone stopped by him and roused him to see if he was okay. It was well into the morning already, and before the haze of sleep lifted, he questioned how he got outside. When he remembered that he had fallen asleep on the unstable park bench, he also remembered that he was out to go look at the suit. He steadily got to his feet, his body sore from sleeping on something so stiff, and he started on his way to the shop. When he got there, the entire ensemble was still in the window display, which made Tobi's heart flutter with delight. He hadn't felt so good seeing something in a long time. It was a feeling that he missed. The shop itself was for combat and work wear, and it made the shopkeep raise a brow when the genin entered all on his lonesome. The boy looked curiously about the small shop before the shopkeeper called his attention toward him.
“Need somethin', sonny?” he said past the toothpick he was chewing on. Tobi paused for a moment, not sure to say he was just looking, or to ask about the suit.
“H'w mmph izz'ht a't'hrr?” he asked, pointing toward the ensemble.
(How much is that altogether?)
The man behind the counter didn't look like he understood, but he looked to where Tobi was pointing. By the looks of him, the shopkeep kind of figured it was the suit he was asking about. “The suit and accessories?” Tobi nodded. “Heh. Seems fittin' for you to ask. Eh, lucky you. Since it just wasn't selling, all the pieces, from the gas mask to the boots, are included with it for the fair price of *11,425 ryō.”
*If the Naruto currency, ryō, is anything like JPY, then 11,425 ryō is roughly 120USD.
Tobi was surprised by this. Even though that was expensive, it wasn't as expensive as he thought it would have been. He knew he wanted it. A bright smile spread across his face, and his eyes were glimmering with sheer excitement. “C'd y' p't't o'h'ld f'mm?”
(Could you put it on hold for me?)
“Say again, boy? Can't understand yah with that scarf in front of your mouth.”
The boy pulled the scarf down and said again, “Could you put it on hold for me? I promise I'll come and get it, sir. I really will!” He shied up after, afraid he seemed oddly excited about it.
“You sure you can get it, kid? I mean, it's still kinda expensive, but you don't look like someone who'd lie to me, so I guess I can put it away for you. When will yah be back?” Tobi gulped and realized he hadn't thought about how he'd get the money. And then he remembered the birthday money he received from his aunt, which was roughly 9,521 ryō. That meant he would need to scrounge up 1,904 ryō, which wasn't so bad.
“Later today, I promise!”
“Alright then, I'll bring it behind the counter and package it up for you for when you come back. Don't hurt my trust in yah, kiddo.” Tobi nodded understandingly and left. Before he turned the corner on the street, he saw the old shopkeeper taking it down out of the window, which made him giddy. He hurried home and went right to his father, who was home on his day off. Tobi hadn't even remembered to tighten his scarf back around his face.
“Hey, Sport. What's up?” his father greeted, and Tobi hurriedly took a seat at the table with him.
“Dad! Can you spare me 1,904 ryō? It's really important...!” His father seemed surprised. He hadn't seen his son so worked up over something like this in quite some time.
“Seems reasonable for how excited you are. What's it for, exactly?”
Tobi almost felt embarrassed to tell his father, but he trusted him to judge him lightly over it, unlike how his mother would be. “Well, you know how I like fire and stuff, and that's what I specialize in as a ninja, right...? There's this flame retardant suit at a combat and work wear store that's 11,425 ryō... and I really feel like I need it. I'm using my birthday money, but I don't have quite enough. Help me out...? You know me, Dad. I don't ask for a lot of things, and when I do, it means something.”
His father sat in silence for a moment, and then he set his newspaper down and leaned over the table toward Tobi. “Tobi, you know that I'll always want to help you be a good shinobi. You've already made both your mother and I proud just getting involved in it. We know that the brave shinobi of this village have kept us safe all our lives here. If you think this will help you, then I'll give you the money.” In awe, Tobi watched his father get up to fetch his wallet. He didn't think that either of his parents really felt anything about him becoming a ninja, but his father was right. Even though his mother's nagging was annoying, it was usually about his lack of training. They really did just want him to do well.
His father reappeared with the money in hand and gave it to Tobi, who stored it away and went to get his birthday money. After returning, he stopped at the door and smiled at his father. “Thanks, Dad...”
The older man smiled back and replied enthusiastically, “Hurry back, Tobi. I want to see it!” With that, Tobi trotted out the door. Things outside were starting to become crowded with people, and Tobi hated crowds, but he dodged through them without so much as a groan while on his way back to the shop. In all honesty, Tobi didn't expect getting the money to be so easy. It helped that his dad was home today, or he would have had to wait until later that night. But he had it, and he was so close to being in possession of the prize.
The shopkeeper looked up from his crossword puzzle and smiled at Tobi. “That was quick. Glad you kept your word.” Tobi smiled and nodded, unloading the money onto the counter. The shopkeep counted it up and determined that he had enough, and then handed Tobi a large box with everything inside. It felt so good when Tobi clasped it for the first time, knowing that now it was his. “If yah ever need anything like that stuff you got there, don't be afraid to come back. We have a lot of flame retardant items that're good for Katon users and pyromaniacs alike.” The genin nodded and said thank you before leaving the shop. He made sure to hold the box almost crushingly tight as he went home. He needed nothing happening to it.
As Tobi headed home, his excitement drained out and seriousness set in place. He did not want this purchase to become something meaningless. He wanted something to come from this. At that moment, he decided that he was done dawdling with his ninja life. This was the motivation that he needed to get better. No matter how much he wanted to put the suit in use now, something told him to wait until he one day hit Jounin, and had earned the right to wear it. Today was the day that he stopped moping around in a pool of his own sorrow and did something with himself. He hugged the box a little tighter and smiled to himself, knowing he had done something right.
So, this is how he found his weird waking hour, so early in the morn. It was barely seven o'clock, and it was already humid. Tobi's attire was never the best for where he lived. Iwagakure could get quite warm, and even if Tobi liked warmth like no other, a heat stroke never did anyone any good. He had actually been considering getting something new to wear. The other day he had noticed something that screamed “this is something I could see myself in.” From the looks of it, it was expensive, and a bit bizarre. The attire consisted of a black flame retardant full-body jumpsuit, a gas mask, fire retardant work gloves, and a pair of work boots. When Tobi saw it, it seemed like a “step-up” from his current attire. He already sported clothing that completely covered his body, and the fact that it was all geared toward heavy fire use, it was right up his alley. Although Tobi loved his scarf and goggles, he always had a special place in his heart for masks of any kind... especially gas masks. He knew this is what he wanted.
That was why Tobi was out on this fine, muggy day. Except, it was so early in the morning that nothing was open yet, giving him some time to kill. Doing what, he didn't know. There were no friendly faces around, but the pleasant sound of birds chirping away in their merriment did make up for the lack of the busy sounds of people scurrying around. Tobi wasn't feeling much better about everything either, and the peacefulness of this walk was doing him a bit of good. If there was anything he was good at, it was taking it slow. He moved like a snail, shuffling along the ground. He had no reason to be going anywhere fast. This was the pace that suited him most, but he knew that if he wanted the aforementioned suit and accessories, he would have to become more fit and agile in order to put it to good use. After all, there was one true thing that he had to get out of this, and that was the motivation to become better than he was right now. In truth, Tobi loathed the body he was in, which possibly accounted for the way he covered up nearly every inch of himself. He felt that if this attire came into his possession, he would have found his new “skin” and therefore a reason to continue on with his life, opposed to remaining as this poorly crafted human being he was now.
Speaking of poorly crafted, he plotted himself on a bench that felt like it was about to give out with the way it moaned in protest to Tobi's weight being settled upon it. Shafts of morning light coruscated through the sparsely leaved trees in the quaint little park that Tobi had stopped at. It was a pleasure for the eyes, but Tobi's goggles dimmed its brilliance. He sat quietly alone, and his mental fatigue began to catch up with him. As his eyes drifted shut, he began to lose consciousness, and drifted off into a much needed rest.
Hours drifted by before someone stopped by him and roused him to see if he was okay. It was well into the morning already, and before the haze of sleep lifted, he questioned how he got outside. When he remembered that he had fallen asleep on the unstable park bench, he also remembered that he was out to go look at the suit. He steadily got to his feet, his body sore from sleeping on something so stiff, and he started on his way to the shop. When he got there, the entire ensemble was still in the window display, which made Tobi's heart flutter with delight. He hadn't felt so good seeing something in a long time. It was a feeling that he missed. The shop itself was for combat and work wear, and it made the shopkeep raise a brow when the genin entered all on his lonesome. The boy looked curiously about the small shop before the shopkeeper called his attention toward him.
“Need somethin', sonny?” he said past the toothpick he was chewing on. Tobi paused for a moment, not sure to say he was just looking, or to ask about the suit.
“H'w mmph izz'ht a't'hrr?” he asked, pointing toward the ensemble.
(How much is that altogether?)
The man behind the counter didn't look like he understood, but he looked to where Tobi was pointing. By the looks of him, the shopkeep kind of figured it was the suit he was asking about. “The suit and accessories?” Tobi nodded. “Heh. Seems fittin' for you to ask. Eh, lucky you. Since it just wasn't selling, all the pieces, from the gas mask to the boots, are included with it for the fair price of *11,425 ryō.”
*If the Naruto currency, ryō, is anything like JPY, then 11,425 ryō is roughly 120USD.
Tobi was surprised by this. Even though that was expensive, it wasn't as expensive as he thought it would have been. He knew he wanted it. A bright smile spread across his face, and his eyes were glimmering with sheer excitement. “C'd y' p't't o'h'ld f'mm?”
(Could you put it on hold for me?)
“Say again, boy? Can't understand yah with that scarf in front of your mouth.”
The boy pulled the scarf down and said again, “Could you put it on hold for me? I promise I'll come and get it, sir. I really will!” He shied up after, afraid he seemed oddly excited about it.
“You sure you can get it, kid? I mean, it's still kinda expensive, but you don't look like someone who'd lie to me, so I guess I can put it away for you. When will yah be back?” Tobi gulped and realized he hadn't thought about how he'd get the money. And then he remembered the birthday money he received from his aunt, which was roughly 9,521 ryō. That meant he would need to scrounge up 1,904 ryō, which wasn't so bad.
“Later today, I promise!”
“Alright then, I'll bring it behind the counter and package it up for you for when you come back. Don't hurt my trust in yah, kiddo.” Tobi nodded understandingly and left. Before he turned the corner on the street, he saw the old shopkeeper taking it down out of the window, which made him giddy. He hurried home and went right to his father, who was home on his day off. Tobi hadn't even remembered to tighten his scarf back around his face.
“Hey, Sport. What's up?” his father greeted, and Tobi hurriedly took a seat at the table with him.
“Dad! Can you spare me 1,904 ryō? It's really important...!” His father seemed surprised. He hadn't seen his son so worked up over something like this in quite some time.
“Seems reasonable for how excited you are. What's it for, exactly?”
Tobi almost felt embarrassed to tell his father, but he trusted him to judge him lightly over it, unlike how his mother would be. “Well, you know how I like fire and stuff, and that's what I specialize in as a ninja, right...? There's this flame retardant suit at a combat and work wear store that's 11,425 ryō... and I really feel like I need it. I'm using my birthday money, but I don't have quite enough. Help me out...? You know me, Dad. I don't ask for a lot of things, and when I do, it means something.”
His father sat in silence for a moment, and then he set his newspaper down and leaned over the table toward Tobi. “Tobi, you know that I'll always want to help you be a good shinobi. You've already made both your mother and I proud just getting involved in it. We know that the brave shinobi of this village have kept us safe all our lives here. If you think this will help you, then I'll give you the money.” In awe, Tobi watched his father get up to fetch his wallet. He didn't think that either of his parents really felt anything about him becoming a ninja, but his father was right. Even though his mother's nagging was annoying, it was usually about his lack of training. They really did just want him to do well.
His father reappeared with the money in hand and gave it to Tobi, who stored it away and went to get his birthday money. After returning, he stopped at the door and smiled at his father. “Thanks, Dad...”
The older man smiled back and replied enthusiastically, “Hurry back, Tobi. I want to see it!” With that, Tobi trotted out the door. Things outside were starting to become crowded with people, and Tobi hated crowds, but he dodged through them without so much as a groan while on his way back to the shop. In all honesty, Tobi didn't expect getting the money to be so easy. It helped that his dad was home today, or he would have had to wait until later that night. But he had it, and he was so close to being in possession of the prize.
The shopkeeper looked up from his crossword puzzle and smiled at Tobi. “That was quick. Glad you kept your word.” Tobi smiled and nodded, unloading the money onto the counter. The shopkeep counted it up and determined that he had enough, and then handed Tobi a large box with everything inside. It felt so good when Tobi clasped it for the first time, knowing that now it was his. “If yah ever need anything like that stuff you got there, don't be afraid to come back. We have a lot of flame retardant items that're good for Katon users and pyromaniacs alike.” The genin nodded and said thank you before leaving the shop. He made sure to hold the box almost crushingly tight as he went home. He needed nothing happening to it.
As Tobi headed home, his excitement drained out and seriousness set in place. He did not want this purchase to become something meaningless. He wanted something to come from this. At that moment, he decided that he was done dawdling with his ninja life. This was the motivation that he needed to get better. No matter how much he wanted to put the suit in use now, something told him to wait until he one day hit Jounin, and had earned the right to wear it. Today was the day that he stopped moping around in a pool of his own sorrow and did something with himself. He hugged the box a little tighter and smiled to himself, knowing he had done something right.
Inhuman Frequency
Speed Training I
It was a new day. Tobi had gotten a good night's sleep for the first time in weeks, and still managed to get up at a reasonable time. As he rose to a sitting position in his bed, and after rubbing his eyes clear of their haze, he could clearly see his entire ensemble displayed in his closet. He had set it up just for this, and it did just the job he knew it would. Already Tobi felt motivated to get to work, and he hopped out of bed and got dressed. Before leaving his room, he took a moment to stand in front of the suit and touch a gloved hand to its material. It was the epitome of the very person he had made of himself; something physical he could truly identify himself by. Of course, his mother wasn't overly pleased, but even she noticed how bright and helpful Tobi seemed the night before, helping her with everything he usually just shrugged off. His father was a little iffy when he saw the gas mask, but assumed that it was for health reasons, and not some creepy fetish that his child had.
Tobi came down the stairs and stopped by the kitchen to see if anyone was around. By the looks of things, his parents had left for work. When he walked toward the fridge to find something to eat, he noticed a small note attached to it. He tugged it off and read it. It said, “Good luck with training today! Love Mom and Dad.” Tobi chuckled and put it in his pocket. It felt good to have his parents' support. He sighed happily and opened the fridge to see what there was to eat. He decided on some leftovers from the night before, heated them up, ate, and cleaned up his mess.
“Alright, time to get started.” He headed out the door and made his way to a small park that was located fairly close to his house. It wasn't the best place for a park, given that little could grow there, and the lack of families with young children that lived close enough to use it. It made for a perfect training spot, though. It was fair-sized and rather circular, which would suit Tobi just fine for what he had in mind.
“I probably should have worn something else...” It was true that Tobi's clothes were probably the worst for running in, but maybe it would add a bit of a challenge and he'd break a sweat... a major sweat. Though, he could only assume that his suit wasn't going to be much cooler to be in constantly.
He did some stretches before starting into a light jog around the park to get warmed up. Now it was time for the actual training. Tobi light up a small flame on a twig and stationed it upright at his starting point. His goal was to make it around the park before the twig was burned up. The park had no grass, so he didn't have to worry about the flame spreading if he didn't make it in time. He started on his first lap, running as fast as he could, but still didn't make it back before the twig had burned up. Tobi was terribly slow, and he was already feeling tired and hot from just one lap. “Maybe this isn't the best way to do this... I need to pace myself.” Abandoning his first method, he ran home and retrieved one of his father's watches after making sure it had a stop watch feature. “Why didn't I just do this in the first place...”
After setting up the timer, he started it and paced himself this time. By the time he made it back to wear he started, which was marked by the stick's ashes, he stopped the watch and it read that it took him over two and a half minutes to do just one lap. The park wasn't that big, either... but Tobi was very slow. And his pace wasn't much more than a jog. He didn't particularly like this running thing, but he needed to keep in mind that this was necessary if he wanted to work well in his suit. He couldn't just give up, no matter how hopeless it seemed. He did another lap without much change in the time it took.
“I need to ditch some of my stuff...” It was hard for him to even think it, but he also realized that the suit was a lot less bulky than the clothes he had, so maybe it would add to the experience. Tobi unraveled his scarf and set it gently on the ground. He pulled off his sweater after that, leaving him in his usual white undershirt. After unlatching his ax, he rolled up his pants a bit so they weren't dragging over his boots. It was much cooler already, and he took a deep breath. The last things he removed were his gloves and his hat, his messy blond hair popping out. He kept his goggles on, however. He felt so... exposed. This was one of the first times in years he had taken off his hat in public, but at least no one was around to see him.
“Alright, let's do this.” He reset the watch and went on his way, at the same pace as before. It wasn't as excruciating as the first two laps, and his time was decreased to two minutes. That still wasn't very good, and his legs were already starting to hurt. After two more laps, and very minimal improvement, Tobi was done for the day. There was no point in rushing the training. He returned home and spent the rest of the day trying to think of ways to help himself.
When the next day rolled around, he was back at the park bright and early, this time with less bulky pants on and a water bottle. Like the day before, he started with some stretches before getting on his way. His first lap was just a jog that he didn't time, but his second was actually quite a bit better than yesterday. Only a minute and forty-five seconds. This improvement enlightened Tobi, and he was immediately ready to try again. His third lap wasn't much better, only by a few seconds, but any sort of improvement was helpful. “Anything to keep me off of that goat next time I meet Oushi...” he muttered, shuddering at the thought.
Tobi went for two more laps before calling it a day. He returned home with an empty water bottle and a bit more pride. The next day he rose even earlier than usual when it was a bit cooler outside. His parents weren't even awake as it was barely dawn. Unsure of what had been getting into him, he wasn't about to complain. He was out at the park bright and early, and everything was peaceful. Doing his usual routine before starting, Tobi's first official lap of the day held even better results than the previous one. Only a minute and a half that time. This was good, and he was slowly starting to see what constantly working at something could do. He even felt healthier from running the past few days, if not a bit sore. His next lap was again not much better than the previous one, and his third was barely better than that. He also noticed he was doing more laps per day as he pursued his training. That day he managed to get in two more laps than usual, his time decreasing by seconds with each one. The best part about it was that he wasn't pushing his limits, either. Although he was slow, he had a lot of stamina, which aided in his quest for more agility.
The next day came, and Tobi was impressing his parents with how active he suddenly became. Tobi was out at the same time as the day before, and to warm up, he took a jog around the block he lived on before returning to the park. With his blood pumping, he began with his first lap. His heart fluttered when he came to his starting point and stopped the watch to see that it said that it only took him a minute to do that lap, even at his own pace. This was a big improvement seeing as though he started out doing more than double that time. He ran his laps without any other significant improvement, and when he returned home before noon, all he could think about was going back. So, after dinner, he decided to return and get a few more laps in. His body was sore, but he made sure to only do enough to satisfy him opposed to exhausting him. There were no improvements in his time, some even faltered slightly above and below the one minute he achieved earlier, but that was expected. Tobi didn't return home until it was dark and he quietly went up to his room. Another good day of training and improvements.
After a good night's rest, he rose at his usual time to start his early morning training. Once warm up was out of the way, Tobi started on his first lap and beat his previous time by ten seconds. By this point he had set the goal of being able to go around the park in at least thirty-five seconds. It wasn't unrealistic, either, with how much better he was getting... and, well, it wasn't really a big park, so most of his peers could probably do it in that time without trying. His laps showed little improvement as he continued, and he had to end his training early that day due to some chores his parents had asked of him. They were using his new leaf to their advantage.
Tobi didn't return to train later that day and decided to rest up so he could do some serious work the next day. It had nearly been a full week since he started his daily training, and not only did he feel more confident, but he also felt more fit and healthier than he had in a long time. This suit really was a gift to him in every way. His first lap of the day proved even better than the day before, and he was nearly at his goal. After he stopped the watch, it said forty seconds. He was so close that it was exciting. He pushed himself a little harder for the next of his laps, but tired himself out faster without any improvement in his time. The last thing Tobi wanted was to tucker himself out so much he lost the will to keep on training each day. He called an early day and went home to rest up, hoping that he would get out again after dinner and take it a little easier. And he did, and it got him closer to his goal. Thirty-seven seconds... it was so close that it made him giddy to think about. Hopefully by tomorrow he would hit his goal and he could move on to something else.
The next morning Tobi got up even earlier than before. It was still dark out, though dawn was in the distance. His warm up commenced as usual, and then he began with his laps. His heart raced even faster as he started his first lap, purely out of his anticipation to see his time when he made it to his starting position... and rightly so. When Tobi stopped the watch, it read thirty-four seconds. Heck, that was even better than what he was hoping for. Overjoyed, Tobi clenched his fists pumped one into the air, yelling, “Yes!” The sound echoed throughout the sleeping area, and he cringed as he realized how early it was.
Although he had just beaten his goal, he still did the rest of his laps and headed home to enjoy the rest of his day.
Tobi came down the stairs and stopped by the kitchen to see if anyone was around. By the looks of things, his parents had left for work. When he walked toward the fridge to find something to eat, he noticed a small note attached to it. He tugged it off and read it. It said, “Good luck with training today! Love Mom and Dad.” Tobi chuckled and put it in his pocket. It felt good to have his parents' support. He sighed happily and opened the fridge to see what there was to eat. He decided on some leftovers from the night before, heated them up, ate, and cleaned up his mess.
“Alright, time to get started.” He headed out the door and made his way to a small park that was located fairly close to his house. It wasn't the best place for a park, given that little could grow there, and the lack of families with young children that lived close enough to use it. It made for a perfect training spot, though. It was fair-sized and rather circular, which would suit Tobi just fine for what he had in mind.
“I probably should have worn something else...” It was true that Tobi's clothes were probably the worst for running in, but maybe it would add a bit of a challenge and he'd break a sweat... a major sweat. Though, he could only assume that his suit wasn't going to be much cooler to be in constantly.
He did some stretches before starting into a light jog around the park to get warmed up. Now it was time for the actual training. Tobi light up a small flame on a twig and stationed it upright at his starting point. His goal was to make it around the park before the twig was burned up. The park had no grass, so he didn't have to worry about the flame spreading if he didn't make it in time. He started on his first lap, running as fast as he could, but still didn't make it back before the twig had burned up. Tobi was terribly slow, and he was already feeling tired and hot from just one lap. “Maybe this isn't the best way to do this... I need to pace myself.” Abandoning his first method, he ran home and retrieved one of his father's watches after making sure it had a stop watch feature. “Why didn't I just do this in the first place...”
After setting up the timer, he started it and paced himself this time. By the time he made it back to wear he started, which was marked by the stick's ashes, he stopped the watch and it read that it took him over two and a half minutes to do just one lap. The park wasn't that big, either... but Tobi was very slow. And his pace wasn't much more than a jog. He didn't particularly like this running thing, but he needed to keep in mind that this was necessary if he wanted to work well in his suit. He couldn't just give up, no matter how hopeless it seemed. He did another lap without much change in the time it took.
“I need to ditch some of my stuff...” It was hard for him to even think it, but he also realized that the suit was a lot less bulky than the clothes he had, so maybe it would add to the experience. Tobi unraveled his scarf and set it gently on the ground. He pulled off his sweater after that, leaving him in his usual white undershirt. After unlatching his ax, he rolled up his pants a bit so they weren't dragging over his boots. It was much cooler already, and he took a deep breath. The last things he removed were his gloves and his hat, his messy blond hair popping out. He kept his goggles on, however. He felt so... exposed. This was one of the first times in years he had taken off his hat in public, but at least no one was around to see him.
“Alright, let's do this.” He reset the watch and went on his way, at the same pace as before. It wasn't as excruciating as the first two laps, and his time was decreased to two minutes. That still wasn't very good, and his legs were already starting to hurt. After two more laps, and very minimal improvement, Tobi was done for the day. There was no point in rushing the training. He returned home and spent the rest of the day trying to think of ways to help himself.
When the next day rolled around, he was back at the park bright and early, this time with less bulky pants on and a water bottle. Like the day before, he started with some stretches before getting on his way. His first lap was just a jog that he didn't time, but his second was actually quite a bit better than yesterday. Only a minute and forty-five seconds. This improvement enlightened Tobi, and he was immediately ready to try again. His third lap wasn't much better, only by a few seconds, but any sort of improvement was helpful. “Anything to keep me off of that goat next time I meet Oushi...” he muttered, shuddering at the thought.
Tobi went for two more laps before calling it a day. He returned home with an empty water bottle and a bit more pride. The next day he rose even earlier than usual when it was a bit cooler outside. His parents weren't even awake as it was barely dawn. Unsure of what had been getting into him, he wasn't about to complain. He was out at the park bright and early, and everything was peaceful. Doing his usual routine before starting, Tobi's first official lap of the day held even better results than the previous one. Only a minute and a half that time. This was good, and he was slowly starting to see what constantly working at something could do. He even felt healthier from running the past few days, if not a bit sore. His next lap was again not much better than the previous one, and his third was barely better than that. He also noticed he was doing more laps per day as he pursued his training. That day he managed to get in two more laps than usual, his time decreasing by seconds with each one. The best part about it was that he wasn't pushing his limits, either. Although he was slow, he had a lot of stamina, which aided in his quest for more agility.
The next day came, and Tobi was impressing his parents with how active he suddenly became. Tobi was out at the same time as the day before, and to warm up, he took a jog around the block he lived on before returning to the park. With his blood pumping, he began with his first lap. His heart fluttered when he came to his starting point and stopped the watch to see that it said that it only took him a minute to do that lap, even at his own pace. This was a big improvement seeing as though he started out doing more than double that time. He ran his laps without any other significant improvement, and when he returned home before noon, all he could think about was going back. So, after dinner, he decided to return and get a few more laps in. His body was sore, but he made sure to only do enough to satisfy him opposed to exhausting him. There were no improvements in his time, some even faltered slightly above and below the one minute he achieved earlier, but that was expected. Tobi didn't return home until it was dark and he quietly went up to his room. Another good day of training and improvements.
After a good night's rest, he rose at his usual time to start his early morning training. Once warm up was out of the way, Tobi started on his first lap and beat his previous time by ten seconds. By this point he had set the goal of being able to go around the park in at least thirty-five seconds. It wasn't unrealistic, either, with how much better he was getting... and, well, it wasn't really a big park, so most of his peers could probably do it in that time without trying. His laps showed little improvement as he continued, and he had to end his training early that day due to some chores his parents had asked of him. They were using his new leaf to their advantage.
Tobi didn't return to train later that day and decided to rest up so he could do some serious work the next day. It had nearly been a full week since he started his daily training, and not only did he feel more confident, but he also felt more fit and healthier than he had in a long time. This suit really was a gift to him in every way. His first lap of the day proved even better than the day before, and he was nearly at his goal. After he stopped the watch, it said forty seconds. He was so close that it was exciting. He pushed himself a little harder for the next of his laps, but tired himself out faster without any improvement in his time. The last thing Tobi wanted was to tucker himself out so much he lost the will to keep on training each day. He called an early day and went home to rest up, hoping that he would get out again after dinner and take it a little easier. And he did, and it got him closer to his goal. Thirty-seven seconds... it was so close that it made him giddy to think about. Hopefully by tomorrow he would hit his goal and he could move on to something else.
The next morning Tobi got up even earlier than before. It was still dark out, though dawn was in the distance. His warm up commenced as usual, and then he began with his laps. His heart raced even faster as he started his first lap, purely out of his anticipation to see his time when he made it to his starting position... and rightly so. When Tobi stopped the watch, it read thirty-four seconds. Heck, that was even better than what he was hoping for. Overjoyed, Tobi clenched his fists pumped one into the air, yelling, “Yes!” The sound echoed throughout the sleeping area, and he cringed as he realized how early it was.
Although he had just beaten his goal, he still did the rest of his laps and headed home to enjoy the rest of his day.
Inhuman Frequency
Comatose
It was becoming a daily routine for Tobi to awake filled with nervous energy, eager and moved to see the day ahead of him. Things had never looked so bright, and Tobi had never felt so alive. Weeks went by filled with the same determination and excitement, and unbeknownst to his cheery facade, it was a life style that was impossible for someone like him to maintain.
Tobi dragged himself into the house, closing the door on the pitch black night. His head was hanged and his body slouched as he shuffled toward the bottom of the stairs. He was stopped by the sharp snap of his mother's voice scolding him for his late return, and Tobi went for a guilt trip over missing dinner. Not a single word changed his already austere expression and he wordlessly dismissed himself and climbed the stairs.
Once he was behind the door of his sanctuary, he pushed his goggles up and loosened his scarf. His grim expression was accented by the dark circles forming around his tired eyes, while his mouth was but a thin line on his face. The habitual slouch that the boy had had sunk even lower, and the usual shuffle of his step had grown heavier with the weight of his dismay.
His bed whisked the physical weight from him as he fell against the plush, warm blankets and pillows, but the familiar comfort did little to ease his emotional pressures. He instinctively curled up to face the wall, staring at the bland sand color that decorated his entire room. The wall had never seemed so utterly depressing to stare before then. The plain, flat span taunted Tobi's current feelings of inadequacy until he could no longer bear it and rolled belly-down to bury his face into the depression in his pillow where his head usually lay.
Tobi lay still for a long time, fighting a number of conflicts on the battleground of his psyche. His had spirits shattered that day, welcoming a flood of the negative feelings that he worked so hard to subdue and lock away for good. He felt foolish to have thought that he could fight the feelings that so often consumed him in the past. The throbbing in his battered knees was insignificant compared to his other slur of problems at this point.
As he remained prostrate on his bed, his thoughts skimmed over the day's events...
'Tobi sat on a bench on a vacant street, holding his head in his hands. The first wrong turn of the day happened in the early morning, when he accidentally broke a window with a stray kunai. He had taken it upon himself to rise early and get some training done before the rest of Iwagakure awoke, but all that came of that was a startled family and some angry neighbors. The excessive apologies and guilty feeling he had for the damage he caused didn't outweigh the relief of not having to pay for a replacement window, and he went far, far away from the scene soon afterward.
The second (and by far the most destructive) step in breaking down the young shinobi occurred sometime near noon, after Tobi got settled into training with his katon jutsu. He was working out any kinks that he was still experienced with them, which was a long overdue task. It was going fine until he underestimated the trajectory of one of his techniques and ended up burning an entire patch of lovely flowers that were one of the few species hardy enough to survive on the poor soils of Iwa. Tobi had a thing about flowers. A really emotional thing about flowers. And so it just killed him to see what he had done. After he contained the flames and smothered them, he sat by the charred remains of the unfortunate plants, tenderly running his gloved fingertips over the ashes. If he had been anymore emotionally unstable at the time he would have cried, but he spent his time staring despondently at the scene instead.
The coup de grâce in this trifecta of mishaps was nearly insignificant, but just enough to push Tobi from the figurative plank he had been edging across all day. After giving up on all of his other training, he judged that the best thing for him was a jog to clear his head. About two blocks from where he started, he had a nasty spill and got himself a pair of scraped knees. Although he got up without so much as a flinch, ignoring the warm trickle of blood down his leg, that fall was the epitome of his failures. He just kept falling and pushing himself back up, and he wasn't completely sure what it was all for. The hopelessness was beginning to set in.
Tobi wound up on that vacant street, sitting for hours on the lone bench. It was getting late, all traces of light having disappeared from the sky nearly an hour ago. He knew that a late arrival wouldn't go over well with his parents, but it was the the growing cold that compelled him to return home.'
Tobi lay still and dreadfully thoughtful, far from drifting off into a pleasant sleep, but close to a self-induced comatose state. All that was for certain at this point was that he would not be waking with that same energy, eagerness, or motivation that had fueled his ambitions before. Instead, tomorrow would be a regular day in the life of the old, sluggish, and unmotivated Tobi (that has been truthfully missed).
Tobi dragged himself into the house, closing the door on the pitch black night. His head was hanged and his body slouched as he shuffled toward the bottom of the stairs. He was stopped by the sharp snap of his mother's voice scolding him for his late return, and Tobi went for a guilt trip over missing dinner. Not a single word changed his already austere expression and he wordlessly dismissed himself and climbed the stairs.
Once he was behind the door of his sanctuary, he pushed his goggles up and loosened his scarf. His grim expression was accented by the dark circles forming around his tired eyes, while his mouth was but a thin line on his face. The habitual slouch that the boy had had sunk even lower, and the usual shuffle of his step had grown heavier with the weight of his dismay.
His bed whisked the physical weight from him as he fell against the plush, warm blankets and pillows, but the familiar comfort did little to ease his emotional pressures. He instinctively curled up to face the wall, staring at the bland sand color that decorated his entire room. The wall had never seemed so utterly depressing to stare before then. The plain, flat span taunted Tobi's current feelings of inadequacy until he could no longer bear it and rolled belly-down to bury his face into the depression in his pillow where his head usually lay.
Tobi lay still for a long time, fighting a number of conflicts on the battleground of his psyche. His had spirits shattered that day, welcoming a flood of the negative feelings that he worked so hard to subdue and lock away for good. He felt foolish to have thought that he could fight the feelings that so often consumed him in the past. The throbbing in his battered knees was insignificant compared to his other slur of problems at this point.
As he remained prostrate on his bed, his thoughts skimmed over the day's events...
'Tobi sat on a bench on a vacant street, holding his head in his hands. The first wrong turn of the day happened in the early morning, when he accidentally broke a window with a stray kunai. He had taken it upon himself to rise early and get some training done before the rest of Iwagakure awoke, but all that came of that was a startled family and some angry neighbors. The excessive apologies and guilty feeling he had for the damage he caused didn't outweigh the relief of not having to pay for a replacement window, and he went far, far away from the scene soon afterward.
The second (and by far the most destructive) step in breaking down the young shinobi occurred sometime near noon, after Tobi got settled into training with his katon jutsu. He was working out any kinks that he was still experienced with them, which was a long overdue task. It was going fine until he underestimated the trajectory of one of his techniques and ended up burning an entire patch of lovely flowers that were one of the few species hardy enough to survive on the poor soils of Iwa. Tobi had a thing about flowers. A really emotional thing about flowers. And so it just killed him to see what he had done. After he contained the flames and smothered them, he sat by the charred remains of the unfortunate plants, tenderly running his gloved fingertips over the ashes. If he had been anymore emotionally unstable at the time he would have cried, but he spent his time staring despondently at the scene instead.
The coup de grâce in this trifecta of mishaps was nearly insignificant, but just enough to push Tobi from the figurative plank he had been edging across all day. After giving up on all of his other training, he judged that the best thing for him was a jog to clear his head. About two blocks from where he started, he had a nasty spill and got himself a pair of scraped knees. Although he got up without so much as a flinch, ignoring the warm trickle of blood down his leg, that fall was the epitome of his failures. He just kept falling and pushing himself back up, and he wasn't completely sure what it was all for. The hopelessness was beginning to set in.
Tobi wound up on that vacant street, sitting for hours on the lone bench. It was getting late, all traces of light having disappeared from the sky nearly an hour ago. He knew that a late arrival wouldn't go over well with his parents, but it was the the growing cold that compelled him to return home.'
Tobi lay still and dreadfully thoughtful, far from drifting off into a pleasant sleep, but close to a self-induced comatose state. All that was for certain at this point was that he would not be waking with that same energy, eagerness, or motivation that had fueled his ambitions before. Instead, tomorrow would be a regular day in the life of the old, sluggish, and unmotivated Tobi (that has been truthfully missed).
Inhuman Frequency
Genjutsu Training I
It didn't make any sense to him. He flipped through the pages of the book that sat in his lap, eying the diagrams without making much note of what they meant or the text that went along with them. Genjutsu was a confusing mess to him. Already a poor excuse for a ninja, Tobi's knowledge of the Illusion Arts was inadequate and it was bothering him to the point that he sat himself down on a beautiful day and forced himself to read some texts on the matter.
“So... this is the boring art. A bunch of illusions...? I don't even understand how that's helpful,” the genin muttered ignorantly. Naturally, Tobi's lack of understanding of genjutsu was what frustrated more than the art itself. With each page he passed, he grew more and more restless; that was until he came onto a section of the book that seemed worth the read.
“Huh... the basics and combat applications of genjutsu...” The idea of finding out what genjutsu was good for seemed ideal at the time, or he might have thrown the book across the room and forgotten about it entirely. Finally settling down and focusing, Tobi began to read.
The diagrams started to become just as helpful as the text itself. Tobi was a visual learner, so their presence made the long read a little easier to handle. In fact, he could almost say he was beginning to understand it. So far he had gone over what genjutsu is and what knowledge of the Illusion Arts could do for him. From what he understood, having a higher knowledge in this area would grant him an easier time detecting genjutsu in and outside of combat. Well, at the time, that meant very little to him given the fact that he thought it was a useless art.
As he began moving into the combat applications of genjutsu, that began to change. It was as plain as day that these weren't just illusions like a Uncle Jim pulling a quarter out from behind someone's ear. These illusions created full sensory deception; even if it wasn't real, a genjutsu could easily make it feel as though he was feeling, seeing, hearing, tasting or smelling something that was all in his head. That seemed logical, but Tobi was entirely surprised at some of the examples the book gave of genjutsu. A jutsu that made you think you were smelling a corpse? And one that made you see pigs fly? Although they seemed like trivial techniques, Tobi's imagination allowed him to wonder onto the idea of what a stronger genjutsu would be like.
As vivid as Tobi's imagination was, he set his thoughts aside for the time being and kept on reading. The more words that he soaked up, the more he realized how horrible it would be if he was ever stuck in a situation where he couldn't get out of a genjutsu that was as awful as some of the book's examples. Even if he knew what was going on, he knew that he wouldn't be able to break out of it. The book explained that most genjutsu could be escaped through something that startled the body out of its effects. Pain seemed to be the main one that the text stressed, but Tobi could never see himself hurting himself to get out of an illusion. It made him shudder at the very thought. Though, if some of the illusions were as bad as the book described, he'd no doubt consider it as a last resort.
“A genjutsu that makes you think your feet are melting...” Tobi mumbled as he read over more examples of illusions. He knew that he likely had to talent for the Illusion Arts, but learning about them wasn't as bad as he had made it out to be in the beginning. It was more or less a matter of understanding what they were, and how they worked.
As it was, Tobi was now aware of what genjutsu did and what forms it could take. What he didn't understand was how it was done. How could someone create such vivid illusions and force another person to fall under their effects? Well, he was about to get the answer he was looking for. The next block of text was dedicated to genjutsu triggers and the many different ways that they could be done.
Triggers were especially important. Although some seemed really obvious to Tobi, like eye contact and sound-based genjutsu, it was a scary thought to think that one wayward glance into someone's eyes, or even the sound of their voice could be enough to put him into one of the horrible genjutsu illustrated earlier. There were a countless number of triggers though, but they were almost all sensory. Even smells could be used to trigger genjutsu, which baffled Tobi at first, but given the nature of genjutsu, it made sense after a little thought.
It bothered him that genjutsu could take control of his senses without him even knowing it. Senses were the only thing allowing him to perceive the world as it is; he didn't want to be lied to by the only thing he could trust to tell him what was reality and what was illusion. He was still on triggers, but the entirety of his learning was starting to come together. The triggers interested him more than most of the reading had, except for the examples, and he was a little unnerved by the idea of possibly being caught in a genjutsu and not realizing it at first. Then again, that was sort of the point of teaching himself about it. Recognizing triggers and the illusions themselves would ultimately prove worthy of the time he took to sit down and learn about them.
Tobi closed the book up and sighed. That was a lot of information to soak up, but he wasn't likely to forget it anytime soon. Genjutsu was starting to look a lot less useless now.
“So... this is the boring art. A bunch of illusions...? I don't even understand how that's helpful,” the genin muttered ignorantly. Naturally, Tobi's lack of understanding of genjutsu was what frustrated more than the art itself. With each page he passed, he grew more and more restless; that was until he came onto a section of the book that seemed worth the read.
“Huh... the basics and combat applications of genjutsu...” The idea of finding out what genjutsu was good for seemed ideal at the time, or he might have thrown the book across the room and forgotten about it entirely. Finally settling down and focusing, Tobi began to read.
The diagrams started to become just as helpful as the text itself. Tobi was a visual learner, so their presence made the long read a little easier to handle. In fact, he could almost say he was beginning to understand it. So far he had gone over what genjutsu is and what knowledge of the Illusion Arts could do for him. From what he understood, having a higher knowledge in this area would grant him an easier time detecting genjutsu in and outside of combat. Well, at the time, that meant very little to him given the fact that he thought it was a useless art.
As he began moving into the combat applications of genjutsu, that began to change. It was as plain as day that these weren't just illusions like a Uncle Jim pulling a quarter out from behind someone's ear. These illusions created full sensory deception; even if it wasn't real, a genjutsu could easily make it feel as though he was feeling, seeing, hearing, tasting or smelling something that was all in his head. That seemed logical, but Tobi was entirely surprised at some of the examples the book gave of genjutsu. A jutsu that made you think you were smelling a corpse? And one that made you see pigs fly? Although they seemed like trivial techniques, Tobi's imagination allowed him to wonder onto the idea of what a stronger genjutsu would be like.
As vivid as Tobi's imagination was, he set his thoughts aside for the time being and kept on reading. The more words that he soaked up, the more he realized how horrible it would be if he was ever stuck in a situation where he couldn't get out of a genjutsu that was as awful as some of the book's examples. Even if he knew what was going on, he knew that he wouldn't be able to break out of it. The book explained that most genjutsu could be escaped through something that startled the body out of its effects. Pain seemed to be the main one that the text stressed, but Tobi could never see himself hurting himself to get out of an illusion. It made him shudder at the very thought. Though, if some of the illusions were as bad as the book described, he'd no doubt consider it as a last resort.
“A genjutsu that makes you think your feet are melting...” Tobi mumbled as he read over more examples of illusions. He knew that he likely had to talent for the Illusion Arts, but learning about them wasn't as bad as he had made it out to be in the beginning. It was more or less a matter of understanding what they were, and how they worked.
As it was, Tobi was now aware of what genjutsu did and what forms it could take. What he didn't understand was how it was done. How could someone create such vivid illusions and force another person to fall under their effects? Well, he was about to get the answer he was looking for. The next block of text was dedicated to genjutsu triggers and the many different ways that they could be done.
Triggers were especially important. Although some seemed really obvious to Tobi, like eye contact and sound-based genjutsu, it was a scary thought to think that one wayward glance into someone's eyes, or even the sound of their voice could be enough to put him into one of the horrible genjutsu illustrated earlier. There were a countless number of triggers though, but they were almost all sensory. Even smells could be used to trigger genjutsu, which baffled Tobi at first, but given the nature of genjutsu, it made sense after a little thought.
It bothered him that genjutsu could take control of his senses without him even knowing it. Senses were the only thing allowing him to perceive the world as it is; he didn't want to be lied to by the only thing he could trust to tell him what was reality and what was illusion. He was still on triggers, but the entirety of his learning was starting to come together. The triggers interested him more than most of the reading had, except for the examples, and he was a little unnerved by the idea of possibly being caught in a genjutsu and not realizing it at first. Then again, that was sort of the point of teaching himself about it. Recognizing triggers and the illusions themselves would ultimately prove worthy of the time he took to sit down and learn about them.
Tobi closed the book up and sighed. That was a lot of information to soak up, but he wasn't likely to forget it anytime soon. Genjutsu was starting to look a lot less useless now.
Inhuman Frequency
Taijutsu Training I
Tobi grunted as he threw his weight up against his mattress. It was propped up against the wall of his room, stripped from his bed in order to be his sparring partner for the afternoon. The mattress was old but luckily most of the springs weren't jutting out enough to hurt him any when he punched and kicked at it like a fool. Luckily for him, his parents weren't home, so all of his buffoonery (which was actually training) remained known to him and only him.
His little feud with his mattress was just step one of the training he had planned that day. He was focusing solely on his taijutsu skills, and that involved both close range fighting and his aim with projectiles like shuriken. Tobi always carried around shuriken, kunai and senbon, but he always hesitated to use them because he was a poor marksman and barely knew how to properly handle each one. Clearly, one projectile's trajectory would not be the same as another unless they were the same weight and shape, which meant that he'd have to teach himself how to use each one individually.
Tobi also planned to give his weapon some axexercise (it's funny because it's an ax) afterward. For some pre-training prep, Tobi made a list of all things he could and couldn't do, and things he wasn't sure about. It would help him narrow down the things he should focus on for the day, and what he should save for another day when he gripped the basics a little more firmly.
That was all in the back of his mind at that moment, however. He was more focused on the brutal kicks and punches he was delivering to his mattress, and brutal was not referring to their strength. Tobi had terrible form and it was plain to see that the boy was simply not more than book smart about the subject of taijutsu. Right now, it looked more like he was having some sort of psychotic fit rather than training for an art.
He knew what he was supposed to be doing, and each strike reminded him what he needed to fix. He was exerting pure physical force into each blow rather than focusing on the dexterity aspect of his assault. Tobi wasn't terribly dexterous, but that's what he was trying to improve.
After tuckering himself out after five straight minutes of his nonsense attacking, he stopped to catch his breath. Even if he wasn't the most fantastic close combat fighter, he had quite a bit of stamina to help him keep at it. It took a minute for him to get back into it, but this time he focused solely on his form. Although that's what he should have been doing from the start, he made sure he was tired enough that he couldn't spare the energy to do anything but properly formatted techniques.
Taking a stance in front of his mattress, Tobi began with some simple, rhythmic kicking. The shape of his mattress was better for punching, but the genin had to do what he could with it. He alternated between each of his legs until he felt he was moving and striking fluently and efficiently. After a few more repetitions of those kicking movements, he moved onto punching using the same format. Eventually, he found that he was taking less recoil from the punches because of how he was holding his body as he struck. He made a mental note of the importance of stance when fighting in close combat.
'Ugh, so much work,' Tobi groaned inwardly, propping himself up against his mattress after he tired himself out. 'I can't do any more of this. Gonna pass out. Guess it's time to go practice projectiles...'
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Tobi gathered some kunai, shuriken and senbon, along with his ax, and headed outside. It wasn't a particular busy day so he had no trouble finding a quiet place to set up a shooting range for himself. His targets were mostly medium-sized pieces of litter from the garbage that were easily visible colors. He wasn't trying to challenge himself at the moment; first he had to learn the basics before he went for any feats of excellence.
Stepping back a good fifteen feet from the targets he placed on the top of a large rock, he took out one of his kunai and began to aim. Kunai were a bit heavier than the other projectiles he carried and of a more top-heavy shape. He figured that he would need to throw it hard so that it wouldn't go off of balance in the middle of flight and end up somewhere unexpected. When he felt he was ready, he threw it with more might than he had meant to. It flew far, and eventually embedded itself in the rock face that was ten or so feet past where he was aiming for.
Tobi sighed and took another of his kunai and prepared to try again. This time he noted that he had to be aware of his own strength in addition to the other factors that would affect his kunai during its travel to the target. He threw the next kunai; this time it went near the target, but somehow ended up with too little strength this time and harmlessly bounced off of the rock that the litter was perched upon.
A third kunai was drawn and Tobi reflected on all the problems he had faced so far in throwing the kunai. Too much strength, too little strength, and off target in both cases. Tobi's hand-eye coordination wasn't terrible, as he had only missed the target by very little each time despite the issues with the strength of his throw. As he threw the third kunai, he was delighted when he heard the soft 'whoosh' of one of the litter pieces flying off of the top of the rock.
“One down,” Tobi said contentedly.
Next up were shuriken. The genin was particularly fond of shuriken, because even before he was enrolled in the academy, ninja stars were an icon to non-shinobi and no good game of pretend went without a paper shuriken if ninjas were involved.
Tobi lined up with his target, keeping a firm grasp on the shuriken as he prepared to throw it. It was lighter than the kunai and more evenly shaped. He counted on it going over much better than his few failed attempts with the kunai. Unfortunately, it didn't. The first shuriken that Tobi threw whizzed past the target as he overloaded the throw with power. He had just gotten used to throwing a kunai, so the transition was a little difficult to get used to.
He pulled out another shuriken and tried again. The shuriken took a little more precision, but it only took two tries before he got it to take out another piece of litter so that he could move onto senbon. Now this would be a challenge. Shuriken took precision? Throwing senbon on target looked nearly impossible to Tobi. He was going to have a great time even getting it near the target, let alone knocking it off of its perch. At least he had a handful of them—about twenty—which gave him some room to recuperate even if he missed a dozen.
The first senbon Tobi threw went no where near the target. He wasn't even sure where it went. Senbon were much more difficult to see after they got any distance away from him, so he wasn't sure how he was supposed to know what to do to fix his throwing technique. Throwing another, he was sure that he heard it graze the litter as the ball of paper moved ever-so-slightly to the right. Well, at least he was in the general area now. He focused another throw into the same area, somehow managing to fire it too low. Tobi could clearly see the needle sticking out of the rock, at least a foot below his intended target.
Tobi was starting to become a little irate with himself. After throwing two more and being unsuccessful, he would have given up if he hadn't suddenly become determined to knock that last piece of litter down from the rock. It was all a hit or miss situation, it seemed. He hated to think that it was, because that implied that aim wasn't necessary, but right now that's how it seemed. Even Tobi's hand-eye coordination wasn't helping him now.
It took him almost all of his senbon to finally knock the litter off of the rock, even if he hit it once before that. The first hit went right rolled the ball of paper back and breezed right through. Tobi almost lost it when it happened, but it kept going until the sixteenth senbon finally knocked it right off.
The feeling he got from accomplishing a few little things already that day made the frustration completely worth it.
His little feud with his mattress was just step one of the training he had planned that day. He was focusing solely on his taijutsu skills, and that involved both close range fighting and his aim with projectiles like shuriken. Tobi always carried around shuriken, kunai and senbon, but he always hesitated to use them because he was a poor marksman and barely knew how to properly handle each one. Clearly, one projectile's trajectory would not be the same as another unless they were the same weight and shape, which meant that he'd have to teach himself how to use each one individually.
Tobi also planned to give his weapon some axexercise (it's funny because it's an ax) afterward. For some pre-training prep, Tobi made a list of all things he could and couldn't do, and things he wasn't sure about. It would help him narrow down the things he should focus on for the day, and what he should save for another day when he gripped the basics a little more firmly.
That was all in the back of his mind at that moment, however. He was more focused on the brutal kicks and punches he was delivering to his mattress, and brutal was not referring to their strength. Tobi had terrible form and it was plain to see that the boy was simply not more than book smart about the subject of taijutsu. Right now, it looked more like he was having some sort of psychotic fit rather than training for an art.
He knew what he was supposed to be doing, and each strike reminded him what he needed to fix. He was exerting pure physical force into each blow rather than focusing on the dexterity aspect of his assault. Tobi wasn't terribly dexterous, but that's what he was trying to improve.
After tuckering himself out after five straight minutes of his nonsense attacking, he stopped to catch his breath. Even if he wasn't the most fantastic close combat fighter, he had quite a bit of stamina to help him keep at it. It took a minute for him to get back into it, but this time he focused solely on his form. Although that's what he should have been doing from the start, he made sure he was tired enough that he couldn't spare the energy to do anything but properly formatted techniques.
Taking a stance in front of his mattress, Tobi began with some simple, rhythmic kicking. The shape of his mattress was better for punching, but the genin had to do what he could with it. He alternated between each of his legs until he felt he was moving and striking fluently and efficiently. After a few more repetitions of those kicking movements, he moved onto punching using the same format. Eventually, he found that he was taking less recoil from the punches because of how he was holding his body as he struck. He made a mental note of the importance of stance when fighting in close combat.
'Ugh, so much work,' Tobi groaned inwardly, propping himself up against his mattress after he tired himself out. 'I can't do any more of this. Gonna pass out. Guess it's time to go practice projectiles...'
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Tobi gathered some kunai, shuriken and senbon, along with his ax, and headed outside. It wasn't a particular busy day so he had no trouble finding a quiet place to set up a shooting range for himself. His targets were mostly medium-sized pieces of litter from the garbage that were easily visible colors. He wasn't trying to challenge himself at the moment; first he had to learn the basics before he went for any feats of excellence.
Stepping back a good fifteen feet from the targets he placed on the top of a large rock, he took out one of his kunai and began to aim. Kunai were a bit heavier than the other projectiles he carried and of a more top-heavy shape. He figured that he would need to throw it hard so that it wouldn't go off of balance in the middle of flight and end up somewhere unexpected. When he felt he was ready, he threw it with more might than he had meant to. It flew far, and eventually embedded itself in the rock face that was ten or so feet past where he was aiming for.
Tobi sighed and took another of his kunai and prepared to try again. This time he noted that he had to be aware of his own strength in addition to the other factors that would affect his kunai during its travel to the target. He threw the next kunai; this time it went near the target, but somehow ended up with too little strength this time and harmlessly bounced off of the rock that the litter was perched upon.
A third kunai was drawn and Tobi reflected on all the problems he had faced so far in throwing the kunai. Too much strength, too little strength, and off target in both cases. Tobi's hand-eye coordination wasn't terrible, as he had only missed the target by very little each time despite the issues with the strength of his throw. As he threw the third kunai, he was delighted when he heard the soft 'whoosh' of one of the litter pieces flying off of the top of the rock.
“One down,” Tobi said contentedly.
Next up were shuriken. The genin was particularly fond of shuriken, because even before he was enrolled in the academy, ninja stars were an icon to non-shinobi and no good game of pretend went without a paper shuriken if ninjas were involved.
Tobi lined up with his target, keeping a firm grasp on the shuriken as he prepared to throw it. It was lighter than the kunai and more evenly shaped. He counted on it going over much better than his few failed attempts with the kunai. Unfortunately, it didn't. The first shuriken that Tobi threw whizzed past the target as he overloaded the throw with power. He had just gotten used to throwing a kunai, so the transition was a little difficult to get used to.
He pulled out another shuriken and tried again. The shuriken took a little more precision, but it only took two tries before he got it to take out another piece of litter so that he could move onto senbon. Now this would be a challenge. Shuriken took precision? Throwing senbon on target looked nearly impossible to Tobi. He was going to have a great time even getting it near the target, let alone knocking it off of its perch. At least he had a handful of them—about twenty—which gave him some room to recuperate even if he missed a dozen.
The first senbon Tobi threw went no where near the target. He wasn't even sure where it went. Senbon were much more difficult to see after they got any distance away from him, so he wasn't sure how he was supposed to know what to do to fix his throwing technique. Throwing another, he was sure that he heard it graze the litter as the ball of paper moved ever-so-slightly to the right. Well, at least he was in the general area now. He focused another throw into the same area, somehow managing to fire it too low. Tobi could clearly see the needle sticking out of the rock, at least a foot below his intended target.
Tobi was starting to become a little irate with himself. After throwing two more and being unsuccessful, he would have given up if he hadn't suddenly become determined to knock that last piece of litter down from the rock. It was all a hit or miss situation, it seemed. He hated to think that it was, because that implied that aim wasn't necessary, but right now that's how it seemed. Even Tobi's hand-eye coordination wasn't helping him now.
It took him almost all of his senbon to finally knock the litter off of the rock, even if he hit it once before that. The first hit went right rolled the ball of paper back and breezed right through. Tobi almost lost it when it happened, but it kept going until the sixteenth senbon finally knocked it right off.
The feeling he got from accomplishing a few little things already that day made the frustration completely worth it.
Inhuman Frequency
Taijutsu Training II
After refueling himself with a meal and some water, Tobi was ready to get right back into his taijutsu training. He was back at his mattress and prepared for round two.
As he learned earlier, stance was important. He found that all of his punches and kicks had less impact on his body if he stayed in good form and didn't strike in ways that would cause him to contort uncomfortable. The possibility of injuring himself during training was one thing; having it happen during combat was another, and much worse. Tobi was getting the hang of it though, and it wasn't nearly as taxing on his body as it had been earlier when he was just wildly flinging himself at the mattress.
Each time he threw a blow, he made sure he did it rhythmically and returned to the same position after it was finished. So far he had only practiced standing still, which felt secure and sturdy. However, this was training, which meant he had to branch out a little in order to reach his full potential. He started slowly at first, just taking small steps from side to side as he threw his fists against the mattress. It was a little tougher because that firm stance he had become used to was constantly changing to accommodate his movement, which made him feel more vulnerable even if his sparring partner wasn't going to jump up and attack him anytime soon. With each step, he knew that in some way or another, he was leaving himself open. He wasn't sure how to be mobile yet keep the same amount of security that he would have if he were stationary. It was something to note and think about later. For now, he simply wanted to get a feel for striking while strafing.
Strafing was a particularly easy task, but getting his entire body to move as one unit was proving to be difficult. With each punch he threw, he felt his step falter, which would cost him in any real situation. In the same vein, he knew that most of his opponents wouldn't be as... compliant as his mattress, which brought in the visual factor. In addition to his movements, he would have to factor in a moving target. Although he knew that being stationary posed a safer situation for him personally, if he kept moving, he would become less of a target. All together, it was a bit much to think about. He hadn't even tried to see how off-balance he'd become if he tried to kick while moving. There was only one way to find out, though.
As Tobi strafed back and forth in a semi-circle around the mattress, he tried to kick it like he would have if he were standing still. Sufficed to say, it didn't work quite as nicely as he thought it would. Losing his balance, he stumbled back before catching himself right before he would have fallen over. Well, there was no denying the fact that kicking while moving meant pretty much stopping and preforming the action in his case. It didn't stop him from experimenting a little more. He didn't lose his balance the second time he tried, but he still came to a near stop after kicking, and it took him a moment to get into his strafe after he had done so. Like most of his other little problems, that would cost him in a fight as well. Tobi tried to remain focused on just getting the hang of kicking starting from a strafe. It was difficult beyond just the balance and the lag; each angle made the impact of every kick dramatically different. Some even hurt because of the way he stretched himself in order to strike the mattress. He wasn't sure how to solve it given that it would be entirely different on a human opponent, and probably worse at that. His mattress was fairly plush; the human body was bony and generally much smaller than his mattress was.
After a while of fiddling with different ways of kicking, all which proved to be just as futile as the next, he stopped and waited to catch his breath before going back at it. It only took a few more kicks before Tobi was too fed-up to keep at it.
“Bah.” Tobi spat as he turned away from the mattress and marched toward his bed. Grabbing his ax, he left the battered mattress and moved on to the next part of his training.
Tobi's only taijutsu skill came from his ax. He loved it like it were kin to him and treated it as an extension of himself. As such, he was looking forward to this aspect of his training. Said training involved him gathering up some various junk and positioning it in a way that suited what he had in mind. All he wanted for to do with his ax was chop things up, but he wanted to do it efficiently. It was an art, and his ax deserved the kind of grace that he imagined would be the result of his training. He brought the weapon into his hand ran his hand over the hilt a few times as he eyed his targets with a slight smirk on his face. It was a perfect way to get out all of the stress that had built up because of his less-than-successful training with his mattress.
To begin, Tobi kicked a piece of junk in the air, skillfully launching it directly upward, and then promptly smashing it back to the ground with the head of his ax. Although the point wasn't to utterly destroy everything, it was one of the things his ax was good at. An ax wasn't the most practical weapon, but he loved it and he would do anything to more efficiently destroy things with it. That's sort of what it did, and it did it well.
Stepping back from the piece of junk he just smashed down, Tobi took a moment to get a feel for the positions of all the pieces of junk he set out. He had them in no particular formation, but they were all a set distance from one another. Like with his training earlier that day, he wasn't looking for a challenge just yet. His hand slid further down on the ax's handle, which would allow him to put a little more strength behind his swing. Without further dillydallying, he pivoted and took a mighty swing at a tall piece of junk, and used the momentum from the initial swing to come back around and slice clear through one of the items that was next to it. Of course, fighting a real target wouldn't call for such recklessness, or even allow for recklessness to work as a strategy. In fact, Tobi had to account for the fact that his ax wouldn't slice so nicely through everything he encountered. It was something to keep in mind, but not something he was going to worry about at the moment.
Currently, he was trying to apply the strafing methods he practiced earlier and implicate his ax into the equation. It had mostly been the kicking that got him earlier, so he hoped that strafing in addition to wielding his ax would go smoothly.
Weaving between the various items that were littering the ground, he tried to use momentum as the key to every swing he took. If he used a strong swing and hit, he'd pick an option depending on what he hit and how it affected his momentum. Missing wasn't entirely bad when it came down to fighting with his ax. Missing allowed for increased momentum if he decided to spin around and try for another strike. Given, that would leave him vulnerable and probably wouldn't be favorable every time he missed, but if was going to waste his strength throwing out a good, forceful swing, he wanted to make sure that energy didn't go to waste.
About halfway through mucking up all the junk that was sitting around, Tobi decided that he was doing too much of the same thing. Too many strong swings and not enough weak or moderate ones. He was going to eat away at all of his energy if he wasn't constantly aware of how he was exerting his strength and when it was best to strike at certain power levels.
Every time Tobi did something, something new would come into perspective and it was another weight around his ankle. He couldn't possibly think about everything that he knew he should be thinking about, but that's what the training was for.
“I'm tired... sorry, Ax, but we're gonna have to destroy the rest of this crap another time.” Tobi patted the ax on its head and clipped it onto his belt. He had trained long and hard that day and he was ready to collapse and take a good nap... well, as soon as he put his beaten mattress back onto his bed.
As he learned earlier, stance was important. He found that all of his punches and kicks had less impact on his body if he stayed in good form and didn't strike in ways that would cause him to contort uncomfortable. The possibility of injuring himself during training was one thing; having it happen during combat was another, and much worse. Tobi was getting the hang of it though, and it wasn't nearly as taxing on his body as it had been earlier when he was just wildly flinging himself at the mattress.
Each time he threw a blow, he made sure he did it rhythmically and returned to the same position after it was finished. So far he had only practiced standing still, which felt secure and sturdy. However, this was training, which meant he had to branch out a little in order to reach his full potential. He started slowly at first, just taking small steps from side to side as he threw his fists against the mattress. It was a little tougher because that firm stance he had become used to was constantly changing to accommodate his movement, which made him feel more vulnerable even if his sparring partner wasn't going to jump up and attack him anytime soon. With each step, he knew that in some way or another, he was leaving himself open. He wasn't sure how to be mobile yet keep the same amount of security that he would have if he were stationary. It was something to note and think about later. For now, he simply wanted to get a feel for striking while strafing.
Strafing was a particularly easy task, but getting his entire body to move as one unit was proving to be difficult. With each punch he threw, he felt his step falter, which would cost him in any real situation. In the same vein, he knew that most of his opponents wouldn't be as... compliant as his mattress, which brought in the visual factor. In addition to his movements, he would have to factor in a moving target. Although he knew that being stationary posed a safer situation for him personally, if he kept moving, he would become less of a target. All together, it was a bit much to think about. He hadn't even tried to see how off-balance he'd become if he tried to kick while moving. There was only one way to find out, though.
As Tobi strafed back and forth in a semi-circle around the mattress, he tried to kick it like he would have if he were standing still. Sufficed to say, it didn't work quite as nicely as he thought it would. Losing his balance, he stumbled back before catching himself right before he would have fallen over. Well, there was no denying the fact that kicking while moving meant pretty much stopping and preforming the action in his case. It didn't stop him from experimenting a little more. He didn't lose his balance the second time he tried, but he still came to a near stop after kicking, and it took him a moment to get into his strafe after he had done so. Like most of his other little problems, that would cost him in a fight as well. Tobi tried to remain focused on just getting the hang of kicking starting from a strafe. It was difficult beyond just the balance and the lag; each angle made the impact of every kick dramatically different. Some even hurt because of the way he stretched himself in order to strike the mattress. He wasn't sure how to solve it given that it would be entirely different on a human opponent, and probably worse at that. His mattress was fairly plush; the human body was bony and generally much smaller than his mattress was.
After a while of fiddling with different ways of kicking, all which proved to be just as futile as the next, he stopped and waited to catch his breath before going back at it. It only took a few more kicks before Tobi was too fed-up to keep at it.
“Bah.” Tobi spat as he turned away from the mattress and marched toward his bed. Grabbing his ax, he left the battered mattress and moved on to the next part of his training.
Tobi's only taijutsu skill came from his ax. He loved it like it were kin to him and treated it as an extension of himself. As such, he was looking forward to this aspect of his training. Said training involved him gathering up some various junk and positioning it in a way that suited what he had in mind. All he wanted for to do with his ax was chop things up, but he wanted to do it efficiently. It was an art, and his ax deserved the kind of grace that he imagined would be the result of his training. He brought the weapon into his hand ran his hand over the hilt a few times as he eyed his targets with a slight smirk on his face. It was a perfect way to get out all of the stress that had built up because of his less-than-successful training with his mattress.
To begin, Tobi kicked a piece of junk in the air, skillfully launching it directly upward, and then promptly smashing it back to the ground with the head of his ax. Although the point wasn't to utterly destroy everything, it was one of the things his ax was good at. An ax wasn't the most practical weapon, but he loved it and he would do anything to more efficiently destroy things with it. That's sort of what it did, and it did it well.
Stepping back from the piece of junk he just smashed down, Tobi took a moment to get a feel for the positions of all the pieces of junk he set out. He had them in no particular formation, but they were all a set distance from one another. Like with his training earlier that day, he wasn't looking for a challenge just yet. His hand slid further down on the ax's handle, which would allow him to put a little more strength behind his swing. Without further dillydallying, he pivoted and took a mighty swing at a tall piece of junk, and used the momentum from the initial swing to come back around and slice clear through one of the items that was next to it. Of course, fighting a real target wouldn't call for such recklessness, or even allow for recklessness to work as a strategy. In fact, Tobi had to account for the fact that his ax wouldn't slice so nicely through everything he encountered. It was something to keep in mind, but not something he was going to worry about at the moment.
Currently, he was trying to apply the strafing methods he practiced earlier and implicate his ax into the equation. It had mostly been the kicking that got him earlier, so he hoped that strafing in addition to wielding his ax would go smoothly.
Weaving between the various items that were littering the ground, he tried to use momentum as the key to every swing he took. If he used a strong swing and hit, he'd pick an option depending on what he hit and how it affected his momentum. Missing wasn't entirely bad when it came down to fighting with his ax. Missing allowed for increased momentum if he decided to spin around and try for another strike. Given, that would leave him vulnerable and probably wouldn't be favorable every time he missed, but if was going to waste his strength throwing out a good, forceful swing, he wanted to make sure that energy didn't go to waste.
About halfway through mucking up all the junk that was sitting around, Tobi decided that he was doing too much of the same thing. Too many strong swings and not enough weak or moderate ones. He was going to eat away at all of his energy if he wasn't constantly aware of how he was exerting his strength and when it was best to strike at certain power levels.
Every time Tobi did something, something new would come into perspective and it was another weight around his ankle. He couldn't possibly think about everything that he knew he should be thinking about, but that's what the training was for.
“I'm tired... sorry, Ax, but we're gonna have to destroy the rest of this crap another time.” Tobi patted the ax on its head and clipped it onto his belt. He had trained long and hard that day and he was ready to collapse and take a good nap... well, as soon as he put his beaten mattress back onto his bed.
Inhuman Frequency
Strength Training I
Tobi's arms and legs were heavy with the weights he had found in with his grandfather's old things. There was a whole chest of things that his mother kept stored away in the cellar, and having been assigned to cleaning it that day, Tobi was more than amused when he stumbled across his grandfather's miscellanea. Among other things, the training weights gave him a good excuse to toughen up a little.
As Tobi worked his way up the stairs and out of the cellar, he was already breaking a sweat. Not being the strongest lad, he knew that this wouldn't be the easiest task that he had challenged himself to do. Nonetheless, the moment he got himself to a clear space, he began to do some stretches. The fact that it took double—maybe even triple—the amount of effort that it regularly took to move, he found himself hating his warm up by the third reach down to his toes. Hating it wasn't enough to get him to quit, but it certainly spoiled his discovery of the weights. Tobi kept at it, switching from toe touches to lunges, which were a bigger strain than he thought they'd be.
With each movement, he could feel his muscles tighten up uncomfortably. He didn't often exert himself and this was proving to be much more physical output than he originally intended, and he wasn't even ten minutes into his training. Moving with the weights attached was more or less moving normally... if he were underwater. The weights made his body quiver with every lunge he did, and by the tenth one he was forced to switch to an exercise that only required one set of weighted limbs to do.
Tobi gripped one wrist and pulled it toward the opposing side, feeling the tug at the joint, but also the strain in his arm muscles as he struggled to keep them held in position. After a few, small tugs, he released and switched arms. He repeated this until his arms begged for the torture to stop through the burning sensation welling up in each one. Letting them fall to his sides, Tobi groaned, the dead weight of his limp arms causing him to hunch.
“I'm going to be sooooo sore tomorrow..."
After catching his breath, he decided that some simple strides—including excessive arm movements—would help him get a better feel for the weights and lower the time it took to impact him if he ever chose to try this foolishness again.
So, with that in mind, Tobi began to take long, striding steps as his arms moved up and down rhythmically. He went in a large circle, and each time he came back his starting point (which was mentally marked), he counted it and continued on. It was after the eighth roundabout that the real soreness began to throb across his body, and he decided that enough was enough.
He stopped, stripped the weights off, and went on with the rest of his cleaning, which proved much less taxing than his training did.
Tobi took the day after off, waking up with a stiff body. A day of rest was all he needed, and by the day after that, he was right back at it with the weights. Although not the terribly determined type, he wasn't going to let his poor performance the other day be his performance every time. He started the same way as he did the time before: toe touches. One, two, three... he counted them and found that he was getting to a higher number than he did last time as he reached seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, and finally twenty. It still wasn't easy by any means, but it was an improvement that told him his training wasn't all for not.
After his toe touches, Tobi broke out into lunges. Oh how his arms and legs pleaded for him not to, tensing up considerably even after the first one. It took a few to ease into it, but after the sixth lunge, he was met with less resistance than he had been when he started. Lunges strained both of his arms and legs, so he stopped at ten, knowing that if he did too many, he wouldn't have the strength for his other exercises.
Onward to arm stretches. He spent very little time on these, giving five stretches per arm. He understood that strengthening his arms was just as important as strengthening his legs, but it felt that doing activities which worked them equally as much would prove more beneficial in the end. After he was finished, he stopped to take a breather.
It took Tobi a moment to encourage himself to continue. He was tired already, but still riding the endorphins that had been released after the burn in his muscles temporarily faded. Deciding to make use of what little adrenaline he had coursing through him, Tobi started on with his strides. Each step was a test of strength, just as it had been the day before, while his arms strained and pulled together all of his energy to keep him going after the third round he made on his imaginary track. Had he any less energy to give, he would have likely passed out by the seventh. Yet, he continued on, counting each round with a little more dread than the last, until he made it to fifteen and had to call it quits.
After another day of rest, Tobi returned to his training with a little more energy than usual. He was still sore, but he was excited to see if he had made any progress since the last time.
He had, and although it was slight, he noticed it almost immediately. When he started his toe touches, he reached twenty faster than he had the day before. His muscles weren't nearly as strained, and he felt better by the time he was finished with his first set of exercises. However, as he moved on to lunges, he had his doubts that they'd be any easier in just a few days of work.
Tobi surprised himself when he carried himself through twenty five of the dreadful lunges with ease he hadn't had before. That's not to say they were a cakewalk, but he cleared them better than he had just days ago. His muscles groaned under every movement, but he didn't let that discourage him; in fact, he used it as motivation as he switched over to a few, quick arm stretches.
Although his arms didn't show him the kind of progress he hoped for, a little progress could become a lot if he kept at it. As such, he put in an extra five stretches with each arm in hopes that giving them the same stimulation that his legs seemed to be getting.
Having had a few days to think about it, he figured that adding another exercise to his routine would benefit his training and encourage him to work at it more after being given something new to try. Squats seemed like an appropriate choice. It didn't directly work his arms and legs, but the added weight would challenge him each time he got up from a squat.
Tobi was right, of course, and as he came up from the sixth squat, he just about toppled over. At this rate, he'd have no strength left to do his strides. Squats, as it was, proved themselves to be too taxing on his muscles. He wasn't strong enough yet to continuously pull himself up with extra weight tying him down; he wasn't sure if he could do many more even if he hadn't been wearing the training weights.
“I'm gonna kill myself at this rate,” he said between near-breathless pants. He didn't want to rest for too long, as getting comfortable would motivate his laziness, which often proved itself to be far superior to the part of him that wanted to train.
Back to work he got, starting with his strides. His body was slowly getting used to moving with the weights attached to his arms and legs. He noticed that every step didn't seem like a chore, even if it was still difficult to do repeatedly. It bode well for him, and he continued on with his exercise until he felt the throbbing pain of his legs flare up again.
However, today that didn't mean the end of his training. Even if his legs were too sore and tired to go on, getting in more arm exercise wouldn't kill him (yet). He went back to his toe touches and worked with them for a bit. They worked more than just his arms, but he could definitely feel how the weight pulled and strained every muscle in his forearm and upper arm. It wasn't a particularly good feeling, but then again, nothing about the training itself was good. Only the rewards.
To finally max himself out, he switched over to his arm stretches again. They didn't do much other than directly pull at his arm and shoulder muscles, and that's what he wanted. He was growing sore, and by now, every muscle in his body was screaming for a break.
It wouldn't be worth it if Tobi ended up pulling something. Calling it quits, the genin removed the weights and headed inside to hydrate himself.
As Tobi worked his way up the stairs and out of the cellar, he was already breaking a sweat. Not being the strongest lad, he knew that this wouldn't be the easiest task that he had challenged himself to do. Nonetheless, the moment he got himself to a clear space, he began to do some stretches. The fact that it took double—maybe even triple—the amount of effort that it regularly took to move, he found himself hating his warm up by the third reach down to his toes. Hating it wasn't enough to get him to quit, but it certainly spoiled his discovery of the weights. Tobi kept at it, switching from toe touches to lunges, which were a bigger strain than he thought they'd be.
With each movement, he could feel his muscles tighten up uncomfortably. He didn't often exert himself and this was proving to be much more physical output than he originally intended, and he wasn't even ten minutes into his training. Moving with the weights attached was more or less moving normally... if he were underwater. The weights made his body quiver with every lunge he did, and by the tenth one he was forced to switch to an exercise that only required one set of weighted limbs to do.
Tobi gripped one wrist and pulled it toward the opposing side, feeling the tug at the joint, but also the strain in his arm muscles as he struggled to keep them held in position. After a few, small tugs, he released and switched arms. He repeated this until his arms begged for the torture to stop through the burning sensation welling up in each one. Letting them fall to his sides, Tobi groaned, the dead weight of his limp arms causing him to hunch.
“I'm going to be sooooo sore tomorrow..."
After catching his breath, he decided that some simple strides—including excessive arm movements—would help him get a better feel for the weights and lower the time it took to impact him if he ever chose to try this foolishness again.
So, with that in mind, Tobi began to take long, striding steps as his arms moved up and down rhythmically. He went in a large circle, and each time he came back his starting point (which was mentally marked), he counted it and continued on. It was after the eighth roundabout that the real soreness began to throb across his body, and he decided that enough was enough.
He stopped, stripped the weights off, and went on with the rest of his cleaning, which proved much less taxing than his training did.
Tobi took the day after off, waking up with a stiff body. A day of rest was all he needed, and by the day after that, he was right back at it with the weights. Although not the terribly determined type, he wasn't going to let his poor performance the other day be his performance every time. He started the same way as he did the time before: toe touches. One, two, three... he counted them and found that he was getting to a higher number than he did last time as he reached seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, and finally twenty. It still wasn't easy by any means, but it was an improvement that told him his training wasn't all for not.
After his toe touches, Tobi broke out into lunges. Oh how his arms and legs pleaded for him not to, tensing up considerably even after the first one. It took a few to ease into it, but after the sixth lunge, he was met with less resistance than he had been when he started. Lunges strained both of his arms and legs, so he stopped at ten, knowing that if he did too many, he wouldn't have the strength for his other exercises.
Onward to arm stretches. He spent very little time on these, giving five stretches per arm. He understood that strengthening his arms was just as important as strengthening his legs, but it felt that doing activities which worked them equally as much would prove more beneficial in the end. After he was finished, he stopped to take a breather.
It took Tobi a moment to encourage himself to continue. He was tired already, but still riding the endorphins that had been released after the burn in his muscles temporarily faded. Deciding to make use of what little adrenaline he had coursing through him, Tobi started on with his strides. Each step was a test of strength, just as it had been the day before, while his arms strained and pulled together all of his energy to keep him going after the third round he made on his imaginary track. Had he any less energy to give, he would have likely passed out by the seventh. Yet, he continued on, counting each round with a little more dread than the last, until he made it to fifteen and had to call it quits.
After another day of rest, Tobi returned to his training with a little more energy than usual. He was still sore, but he was excited to see if he had made any progress since the last time.
He had, and although it was slight, he noticed it almost immediately. When he started his toe touches, he reached twenty faster than he had the day before. His muscles weren't nearly as strained, and he felt better by the time he was finished with his first set of exercises. However, as he moved on to lunges, he had his doubts that they'd be any easier in just a few days of work.
Tobi surprised himself when he carried himself through twenty five of the dreadful lunges with ease he hadn't had before. That's not to say they were a cakewalk, but he cleared them better than he had just days ago. His muscles groaned under every movement, but he didn't let that discourage him; in fact, he used it as motivation as he switched over to a few, quick arm stretches.
Although his arms didn't show him the kind of progress he hoped for, a little progress could become a lot if he kept at it. As such, he put in an extra five stretches with each arm in hopes that giving them the same stimulation that his legs seemed to be getting.
Having had a few days to think about it, he figured that adding another exercise to his routine would benefit his training and encourage him to work at it more after being given something new to try. Squats seemed like an appropriate choice. It didn't directly work his arms and legs, but the added weight would challenge him each time he got up from a squat.
Tobi was right, of course, and as he came up from the sixth squat, he just about toppled over. At this rate, he'd have no strength left to do his strides. Squats, as it was, proved themselves to be too taxing on his muscles. He wasn't strong enough yet to continuously pull himself up with extra weight tying him down; he wasn't sure if he could do many more even if he hadn't been wearing the training weights.
“I'm gonna kill myself at this rate,” he said between near-breathless pants. He didn't want to rest for too long, as getting comfortable would motivate his laziness, which often proved itself to be far superior to the part of him that wanted to train.
Back to work he got, starting with his strides. His body was slowly getting used to moving with the weights attached to his arms and legs. He noticed that every step didn't seem like a chore, even if it was still difficult to do repeatedly. It bode well for him, and he continued on with his exercise until he felt the throbbing pain of his legs flare up again.
However, today that didn't mean the end of his training. Even if his legs were too sore and tired to go on, getting in more arm exercise wouldn't kill him (yet). He went back to his toe touches and worked with them for a bit. They worked more than just his arms, but he could definitely feel how the weight pulled and strained every muscle in his forearm and upper arm. It wasn't a particularly good feeling, but then again, nothing about the training itself was good. Only the rewards.
To finally max himself out, he switched over to his arm stretches again. They didn't do much other than directly pull at his arm and shoulder muscles, and that's what he wanted. He was growing sore, and by now, every muscle in his body was screaming for a break.
It wouldn't be worth it if Tobi ended up pulling something. Calling it quits, the genin removed the weights and headed inside to hydrate himself.
Inhuman Frequency
Heart of the Fire
Daybreak had braced the land, creeping over the quiet town resting in Rain Country. The droplets of water that coated the vegetation from the rainfall the previous day glimmered beautifully as the morning sun hit them. The wildlife began to stir as the chirping of birds broke the dawn silence.
The beauty, the sights and the sounds of the morning only meant one thing to Tobi:
“Ugh... it's too early to get up...” he groaned, pulling his pillow over his head. The birds were nothing more than a nuisance as they perched on the window sill, chirping merrily at the sight of a new day. The water that hadn't evaporated overnight just meant damp, unpleasant conditions for traveling.
Not being the heaviest sleeper around, Tobi found himself unable to get back to it after being roused by the noisy birds outside. It was a terrible start to the day, but after forcing himself out of bed to get dressed and packed, he decided a walk around the village would help his mood. He didn't want to accidentally snap at Oushi whenever the bannin decided to get up too.
Heading out of the room and quietly closing the door behind him, Tobi made his way out of the inn. It was chilly outside, something he wasn't used to back home. It did get cold, of course, but not this far into the season.
“Brr. This is even worse than yesterday.” The genin rubbed his hands together and surveyed his surroundings. The path to his right lead back into the wooded area he and Oushi had passed through on their way into town. It seemed like the best choice to avoid getting lost. He started off down the road with his hands buried in his pockets.
The crackle of leaves and twigs under his feet was an unfamiliar sound, as most roads in Iwa—and most of Rock Country for that matter—were completely barren. Along with the smell of the the wet earth and plants, Tobi was starting to miss his home. He was quickly lost in thought, and hadn't noticed that he had traveled quite far from the town in a short amount of time. The genin stopped as the woodland began to become thicker, and he turned around to look down the path. He couldn't see the town from where he was now, but as long as the road didn't up and disappear, he knew he wasn't going to get himself lost.
Tobi walked another few hundred meters before a welcoming scent wafted under his nose.
'Is something burning?' he wondered, blinking a few times. His senses weren't particularly keen, but there was no keeping Tobi from wandering about until he found the scent's source. Luckily for him, it wasn't difficult as the dense vegetation kept the smell from venting out into the open air. The boy followed the smell of smoke into an off-the-path clearing. The canopy was still thick over the opening, which explained why the smoke smell had remained so strong.
The source of the scent was from an abandoned campfire that was on its last legs. Just a deep, orange glow at the center of the pit. It almost broke Tobi's heart to see, and he immediately jumped at the chance to rekindle its dying flame.
Whoever had been camping there left a couple of pieces of wood behind, and thanks to the heavy cover of the woodland, they were dry enough to use. He picked up one of the thick pieces of wood and set it down in the pit. The fire was clearly not going to grow any stronger on its own, so Tobi helped it along with a flame of his own. It quickly caught onto the dry piece of wood, and although it remained small, Tobi kept it alive the best that he could.
The genin sat down next to the pit and relished in the warmth that the fire provided. He relaxed and leaned back, enjoying the sight of the small flame. It brought back memories of the day before when he passed by the blacksmith's shanty. It was hardly something to forget.
Tobi drifted off into blissful thought, and was only brought back to reality as something from within the fire began to move. He blinked rapidly and sat up, staring intently at the shifting log. It moved again, wobbling back and forth as though it was possessed. Tobi wasn't sure what was happening—that was until something crawled out of the end of the log and fell out onto the ground. Hesitantly, Tobi got up to inspect the area.
As he crept closer, he realized that it had been an animal. It was a small salamander, Tobi decided, and it wasn't looking so good. He was baffled by the little creature. It looked like it had come from the fire, because he certainly hadn't seen it before he rekindled the flames.
The salamander wasn't moving much as it flopped around on its side, and Tobi shook himself out of his stupor in order to help it. He scooped it up into his hands—with his gloves on, of course—and lightly ran a finger over its body.
“You look like you could use some help,” Tobi said to it. Leaving the campfire to quietly burn for as long as it could, he held the salamander close and started back toward town.
Tobi made it halfway back when he noticed a large puddle forming in a ditch at the side of the road. The genin didn't know much about amphibians, but he figured that if salamanders were anything like frogs, this little guy wouldn't mind getting a little wet.
The salamander remained limp in Tobi's hand as he crouched down beside the puddle. The puddle water was fairly clean as it had settled over more stone than dirt, which made it the best Tobi could do until he got back to the inn. Slowly, he dipped his hands into the puddle and let some of the water brush up along the salamander's body. It was unresponsive at first, but the little creature became mobile after a minute of soaking.
“Oh, good, you're not dead,” he chuckled, watching the salamander lazily move around his hands. It didn't try to escape, or do much of anything, but it looked much better than it had when Tobi plucked it off of the ground at the abandoned camp. For a creature that had climbed out a fire, it seemed to enjoy its soak while it lasted.
Tobi withdrew his hands from the puddle and brought the small amphibian closer to his face. It was a wonderful, shiny black color dappled with yellow. It seemed harmless enough, and it didn't look to mind being held. In fact, it was rather cute.
“You kind of remind me of a salamander I found living in my grandparents' basement when I was younger. I named it something before it got away... what was it... oh! Pumpkin. Kinda silly now that I think about it... but it suits you. I just hope you don't run off like that last one.”
Tobi stared at the dopey-looking salamander a little longer before heading back into town, hoping to introduce Oushi to his new friend.
The beauty, the sights and the sounds of the morning only meant one thing to Tobi:
“Ugh... it's too early to get up...” he groaned, pulling his pillow over his head. The birds were nothing more than a nuisance as they perched on the window sill, chirping merrily at the sight of a new day. The water that hadn't evaporated overnight just meant damp, unpleasant conditions for traveling.
Not being the heaviest sleeper around, Tobi found himself unable to get back to it after being roused by the noisy birds outside. It was a terrible start to the day, but after forcing himself out of bed to get dressed and packed, he decided a walk around the village would help his mood. He didn't want to accidentally snap at Oushi whenever the bannin decided to get up too.
Heading out of the room and quietly closing the door behind him, Tobi made his way out of the inn. It was chilly outside, something he wasn't used to back home. It did get cold, of course, but not this far into the season.
“Brr. This is even worse than yesterday.” The genin rubbed his hands together and surveyed his surroundings. The path to his right lead back into the wooded area he and Oushi had passed through on their way into town. It seemed like the best choice to avoid getting lost. He started off down the road with his hands buried in his pockets.
The crackle of leaves and twigs under his feet was an unfamiliar sound, as most roads in Iwa—and most of Rock Country for that matter—were completely barren. Along with the smell of the the wet earth and plants, Tobi was starting to miss his home. He was quickly lost in thought, and hadn't noticed that he had traveled quite far from the town in a short amount of time. The genin stopped as the woodland began to become thicker, and he turned around to look down the path. He couldn't see the town from where he was now, but as long as the road didn't up and disappear, he knew he wasn't going to get himself lost.
Tobi walked another few hundred meters before a welcoming scent wafted under his nose.
'Is something burning?' he wondered, blinking a few times. His senses weren't particularly keen, but there was no keeping Tobi from wandering about until he found the scent's source. Luckily for him, it wasn't difficult as the dense vegetation kept the smell from venting out into the open air. The boy followed the smell of smoke into an off-the-path clearing. The canopy was still thick over the opening, which explained why the smoke smell had remained so strong.
The source of the scent was from an abandoned campfire that was on its last legs. Just a deep, orange glow at the center of the pit. It almost broke Tobi's heart to see, and he immediately jumped at the chance to rekindle its dying flame.
Whoever had been camping there left a couple of pieces of wood behind, and thanks to the heavy cover of the woodland, they were dry enough to use. He picked up one of the thick pieces of wood and set it down in the pit. The fire was clearly not going to grow any stronger on its own, so Tobi helped it along with a flame of his own. It quickly caught onto the dry piece of wood, and although it remained small, Tobi kept it alive the best that he could.
The genin sat down next to the pit and relished in the warmth that the fire provided. He relaxed and leaned back, enjoying the sight of the small flame. It brought back memories of the day before when he passed by the blacksmith's shanty. It was hardly something to forget.
Tobi drifted off into blissful thought, and was only brought back to reality as something from within the fire began to move. He blinked rapidly and sat up, staring intently at the shifting log. It moved again, wobbling back and forth as though it was possessed. Tobi wasn't sure what was happening—that was until something crawled out of the end of the log and fell out onto the ground. Hesitantly, Tobi got up to inspect the area.
As he crept closer, he realized that it had been an animal. It was a small salamander, Tobi decided, and it wasn't looking so good. He was baffled by the little creature. It looked like it had come from the fire, because he certainly hadn't seen it before he rekindled the flames.
The salamander wasn't moving much as it flopped around on its side, and Tobi shook himself out of his stupor in order to help it. He scooped it up into his hands—with his gloves on, of course—and lightly ran a finger over its body.
“You look like you could use some help,” Tobi said to it. Leaving the campfire to quietly burn for as long as it could, he held the salamander close and started back toward town.
Tobi made it halfway back when he noticed a large puddle forming in a ditch at the side of the road. The genin didn't know much about amphibians, but he figured that if salamanders were anything like frogs, this little guy wouldn't mind getting a little wet.
The salamander remained limp in Tobi's hand as he crouched down beside the puddle. The puddle water was fairly clean as it had settled over more stone than dirt, which made it the best Tobi could do until he got back to the inn. Slowly, he dipped his hands into the puddle and let some of the water brush up along the salamander's body. It was unresponsive at first, but the little creature became mobile after a minute of soaking.
“Oh, good, you're not dead,” he chuckled, watching the salamander lazily move around his hands. It didn't try to escape, or do much of anything, but it looked much better than it had when Tobi plucked it off of the ground at the abandoned camp. For a creature that had climbed out a fire, it seemed to enjoy its soak while it lasted.
Tobi withdrew his hands from the puddle and brought the small amphibian closer to his face. It was a wonderful, shiny black color dappled with yellow. It seemed harmless enough, and it didn't look to mind being held. In fact, it was rather cute.
“You kind of remind me of a salamander I found living in my grandparents' basement when I was younger. I named it something before it got away... what was it... oh! Pumpkin. Kinda silly now that I think about it... but it suits you. I just hope you don't run off like that last one.”
Tobi stared at the dopey-looking salamander a little longer before heading back into town, hoping to introduce Oushi to his new friend.
Inhuman Frequency
Sticks and Stones
Tobi sighed gloomily as he was handed a sword by the man sitting across from him.
“It's not the same, you know?” Tobi set down the weapon onto the table. Next to it was his ax, and he stared at both objects ruminatively.
The other man scoffed, slamming his hand down next to the sword. As he stood, the shadow cast by his large demeanor enveloped Tobi.
“Whaddya mean it's not the same? As yer ax? Ha! Yeh gotta be kiddin' me, kiddo,” he blasted, shaking his head.
“But Orik...”
“No. That there sword is a mighty fine piece of steel. Yeh can't go n' compare that garbage bin weapon ta real craftsmanship.”
It was becoming increasingly difficult for Tobi to bite his tongue. His ax seemed just fine to him; it was as good as any sword.
The genin looked away, discouraged by Orik's harshness.
Orik was silent for a moment and then sighed, setting a large, calloused hand on Tobi's shoulder.
“Look, Tobi. There isn't anythin' wrong with yer ax, it's just... well, yeh want ta be a blacksmith, dontcha? An important part of that is knowin' the oafs from the real talent, yeh see?”
Tobi kept his head down and shrugged, prompting an immediate response from Orik.
“Oh lordy lordy, what am I gonna do with you?” he spat at Tobi, roughly shoving the boy's shoulder as he moved his hand away.
The hulking man limped over to the hearth and began to shovel fresh coals onto it.
A cloud of coal dust was stirred up, but Orik paid it no mind. The soot clung to his brown, fur vest and his cream-colored tunic was dirtied after he used it to wipe his hands afterward.
Tobi could tell he had angered his mentor, and with a little effort, he spoke up.
“I'm sorry."
Briefly looking up, the blacksmith shook his head at the genin.
“Eh, dun worry about it. Can't expect ya to see stuff like that yet. We've barely gone n' covered the basics.”
Orik busied himself by grabbing a pair of tongs and removing a piece of heated metal from the forge. He carried it to the anvil and armed himself with a hammer and began to pound on the hot object.
Feeling awkward now that their conversation had ended, Tobi sat down on the stone ledge beside the wall of blacksmith tools near the smithy's door. He tried to look fascinated with something—anything—he could see, but he couldn't hide how dejected he felt.
The clanging of tool against metal stopped after a few short minutes, and Orik looked up at the genin. He set down his tools and heaved a sigh.
“Aye, wanna hear a little story? Ah, sure yeh do. Back oh... some amount-a years ago, when I was an apprentice blacksmith, I struggled a little at first. I wasn't always this big, if you were thinkin' it. Sometimes I felt like quittin' cause I couldn't take on the big tasks. But my mentor was a mean sonuva bitch. He was the best of the best, though, n' he dinnit tolerate anyone who dinnit have their heart into this craft one-hundred percent. If yeh looked like you do right now, he'd have gone n' beat yeh 'till yeh cried for yer mother. But I'm not like that. So, moral of the story is suck it up before ya give me a reason to be like that. Got it?”
Orik stepped away from the anvil and picked up Tobi's ax.
“N' for the love of all that's holy, sharpen this bloody thing,” he complained, running a thick finger along the dull blade. The large man walked Tobi's ax to him and pointed him to the whet stone. The genin had already been shown how to use it, and so he got up and went to work.
“That was a terrible story, by the way,” Tobi commented with a soft chuckle, eliciting a grunt from Orik.
“I've got another terrible story. S'bout an apprentice blacksmith that mouthed off to his mentor n' went home with a few more scrapes than he came with.” Orik passed Tobi a hard stare, but there was no mistaking the smirk curling up at the corner of his dry, cracked lips.
Tobi shook his head and went back to sharpening his ax. He, too, wore an unmistakeable smile and neither his nor Orik's faded as they worked quietly side by side for the remainder of the afternoon.
“It's not the same, you know?” Tobi set down the weapon onto the table. Next to it was his ax, and he stared at both objects ruminatively.
The other man scoffed, slamming his hand down next to the sword. As he stood, the shadow cast by his large demeanor enveloped Tobi.
“Whaddya mean it's not the same? As yer ax? Ha! Yeh gotta be kiddin' me, kiddo,” he blasted, shaking his head.
“But Orik...”
“No. That there sword is a mighty fine piece of steel. Yeh can't go n' compare that garbage bin weapon ta real craftsmanship.”
It was becoming increasingly difficult for Tobi to bite his tongue. His ax seemed just fine to him; it was as good as any sword.
The genin looked away, discouraged by Orik's harshness.
Orik was silent for a moment and then sighed, setting a large, calloused hand on Tobi's shoulder.
“Look, Tobi. There isn't anythin' wrong with yer ax, it's just... well, yeh want ta be a blacksmith, dontcha? An important part of that is knowin' the oafs from the real talent, yeh see?”
Tobi kept his head down and shrugged, prompting an immediate response from Orik.
“Oh lordy lordy, what am I gonna do with you?” he spat at Tobi, roughly shoving the boy's shoulder as he moved his hand away.
The hulking man limped over to the hearth and began to shovel fresh coals onto it.
A cloud of coal dust was stirred up, but Orik paid it no mind. The soot clung to his brown, fur vest and his cream-colored tunic was dirtied after he used it to wipe his hands afterward.
Tobi could tell he had angered his mentor, and with a little effort, he spoke up.
“I'm sorry."
Briefly looking up, the blacksmith shook his head at the genin.
“Eh, dun worry about it. Can't expect ya to see stuff like that yet. We've barely gone n' covered the basics.”
Orik busied himself by grabbing a pair of tongs and removing a piece of heated metal from the forge. He carried it to the anvil and armed himself with a hammer and began to pound on the hot object.
Feeling awkward now that their conversation had ended, Tobi sat down on the stone ledge beside the wall of blacksmith tools near the smithy's door. He tried to look fascinated with something—anything—he could see, but he couldn't hide how dejected he felt.
The clanging of tool against metal stopped after a few short minutes, and Orik looked up at the genin. He set down his tools and heaved a sigh.
“Aye, wanna hear a little story? Ah, sure yeh do. Back oh... some amount-a years ago, when I was an apprentice blacksmith, I struggled a little at first. I wasn't always this big, if you were thinkin' it. Sometimes I felt like quittin' cause I couldn't take on the big tasks. But my mentor was a mean sonuva bitch. He was the best of the best, though, n' he dinnit tolerate anyone who dinnit have their heart into this craft one-hundred percent. If yeh looked like you do right now, he'd have gone n' beat yeh 'till yeh cried for yer mother. But I'm not like that. So, moral of the story is suck it up before ya give me a reason to be like that. Got it?”
Orik stepped away from the anvil and picked up Tobi's ax.
“N' for the love of all that's holy, sharpen this bloody thing,” he complained, running a thick finger along the dull blade. The large man walked Tobi's ax to him and pointed him to the whet stone. The genin had already been shown how to use it, and so he got up and went to work.
“That was a terrible story, by the way,” Tobi commented with a soft chuckle, eliciting a grunt from Orik.
“I've got another terrible story. S'bout an apprentice blacksmith that mouthed off to his mentor n' went home with a few more scrapes than he came with.” Orik passed Tobi a hard stare, but there was no mistaking the smirk curling up at the corner of his dry, cracked lips.
Tobi shook his head and went back to sharpening his ax. He, too, wore an unmistakeable smile and neither his nor Orik's faded as they worked quietly side by side for the remainder of the afternoon.
Inhuman Frequency
Faith in the Fire
Exhausted and sore, Tobi lowered himself onto his bed. It had been a long few days since his apprenticeship began, but it excited him so much that he was already reminiscing on the day he met his mentor...
“Is this even the right place?” Tobi fretted as he stopped before a mundane wall labeled with an address that matched the address on the piece of paper that he carried.
“There's not even a door...”
“Ah, sure there is. The shop's just not open yet,” came a voice from behind the genin. Tobi turned and watched a large, hulking man approach. He had a distinct limp in his step, but he bustled onward until he stood next to Tobi in front of the wall.
“Step aside yeh foolish child,” the man grunted.
Tobi watched as the stranger jammed his foot into the ground, which caused a large opening in the wall to appear.
“Nothin' like the smell of soot and metal in the mornin' to wake ol' Orik right up,” Orik bellowed, inhaling deeply.
The large man began through the opening to his workplace, not giving Tobi a second thought until he realized the genin was still standing outside, gawking.
Returning to the door, he leaned one of his thick arms against it and surveyed Tobi.
“Well, yeh comin' inside or not? Yeh look like yer here for a reason.”
Being roused out of his stupor, Tobi's mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to nod instead.
“Come along, then. I've got work ta do.” Orik disappeared inside, followed by Tobi shortly thereafter.
As Tobi stumbled toward Orik, he started to gain a better impression of a smithy's workspace than the one he had formed in Rain Country.
It was dark, yet warm, and a complete hazard for anyone clumsy. Pointed tools lined an entire wall, and there were dozens of unfinished works laying about the room. The room itself was rather different too. It had been hollowed out of a large rock face, and had been left unchanged beyond that. The only things that looked unnatural were the ventilation holes that dotted the jagged ceiling, which were much too smooth compared to everything else in the room.
“You alright there, kiddo? Yeh look a bit, uh... dazed,” Orik prodded.
Tobi's attention snapped back to Orik. A light blush crept across his cheeks, and he nodded weakly.
“Well, if yeh say so...” The man picked up his tools and prepared to work.
“Wait,” Tobi piped up. Orik sighed quietly and set down his hammer.
“Yes?”
Struggling for words, the genin went for something in his pocket instead. After a little digging, he retrieved a small scroll and walked it over to Orik.
“Wot's this now?” With a cocked brow, he took the scroll from Tobi and unrolled it. His face displayed very little emotion as he went through what was written, and what he did show could only be described as unenthusiastic surprise.
“Interesting... he's sending me an apprentice? Huh. Well, that's news ta me.” Orik scratched his bushy, reddish-brown beard.
“Me.”
“You?”
“I'm the apprentice.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Oooh boy...” Orik exhaled slowly, putting a calloused hand to his forehead.
Tobi wasn't dense. He could tell that there was something wrong with him that made him unsuitable as an apprentice. He just knew it.
“Well-”
“I'll just go if you'd rather that...” Tobi interrupted, bowing his head to the blacksmith.
“Now now, hold on one bloody second.” Orik limped over to Tobi and looked down at him with a pensive, green stare.
“Ah, you'll make a fine apprentice,” Orik announced before promptly turning away. “Yeh start right now.”
Tobi couldn't pick out what it was, but the tinge of sadness in Orik's gaze made him wonder what he had sparked in the older man.
“T-Thank you, Sensei,” Tobi mumbled, bowing his head politely to his new mentor. Orik's hand shot into the air, and he waved it about dismissively.
“Oh, none of that now. Yeh call me Orik or yeh don't call me anythin' at all.”
Giddy excitement was beginning to well up in Tobi. He gave a couple eager nods and cracked a small smile.
“Good, now lemme talk a bit about the basics...”
Tobi slipped into peaceful slumber. Fatigue was the best pillow, and after all the work he had done, he was certainly tired. The rest of his reminiscing would have to wait for another time.
“Is this even the right place?” Tobi fretted as he stopped before a mundane wall labeled with an address that matched the address on the piece of paper that he carried.
“There's not even a door...”
“Ah, sure there is. The shop's just not open yet,” came a voice from behind the genin. Tobi turned and watched a large, hulking man approach. He had a distinct limp in his step, but he bustled onward until he stood next to Tobi in front of the wall.
“Step aside yeh foolish child,” the man grunted.
Tobi watched as the stranger jammed his foot into the ground, which caused a large opening in the wall to appear.
“Nothin' like the smell of soot and metal in the mornin' to wake ol' Orik right up,” Orik bellowed, inhaling deeply.
The large man began through the opening to his workplace, not giving Tobi a second thought until he realized the genin was still standing outside, gawking.
Returning to the door, he leaned one of his thick arms against it and surveyed Tobi.
“Well, yeh comin' inside or not? Yeh look like yer here for a reason.”
Being roused out of his stupor, Tobi's mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to nod instead.
“Come along, then. I've got work ta do.” Orik disappeared inside, followed by Tobi shortly thereafter.
As Tobi stumbled toward Orik, he started to gain a better impression of a smithy's workspace than the one he had formed in Rain Country.
It was dark, yet warm, and a complete hazard for anyone clumsy. Pointed tools lined an entire wall, and there were dozens of unfinished works laying about the room. The room itself was rather different too. It had been hollowed out of a large rock face, and had been left unchanged beyond that. The only things that looked unnatural were the ventilation holes that dotted the jagged ceiling, which were much too smooth compared to everything else in the room.
“You alright there, kiddo? Yeh look a bit, uh... dazed,” Orik prodded.
Tobi's attention snapped back to Orik. A light blush crept across his cheeks, and he nodded weakly.
“Well, if yeh say so...” The man picked up his tools and prepared to work.
“Wait,” Tobi piped up. Orik sighed quietly and set down his hammer.
“Yes?”
Struggling for words, the genin went for something in his pocket instead. After a little digging, he retrieved a small scroll and walked it over to Orik.
“Wot's this now?” With a cocked brow, he took the scroll from Tobi and unrolled it. His face displayed very little emotion as he went through what was written, and what he did show could only be described as unenthusiastic surprise.
“Interesting... he's sending me an apprentice? Huh. Well, that's news ta me.” Orik scratched his bushy, reddish-brown beard.
“Me.”
“You?”
“I'm the apprentice.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Oooh boy...” Orik exhaled slowly, putting a calloused hand to his forehead.
Tobi wasn't dense. He could tell that there was something wrong with him that made him unsuitable as an apprentice. He just knew it.
“Well-”
“I'll just go if you'd rather that...” Tobi interrupted, bowing his head to the blacksmith.
“Now now, hold on one bloody second.” Orik limped over to Tobi and looked down at him with a pensive, green stare.
“Ah, you'll make a fine apprentice,” Orik announced before promptly turning away. “Yeh start right now.”
Tobi couldn't pick out what it was, but the tinge of sadness in Orik's gaze made him wonder what he had sparked in the older man.
“T-Thank you, Sensei,” Tobi mumbled, bowing his head politely to his new mentor. Orik's hand shot into the air, and he waved it about dismissively.
“Oh, none of that now. Yeh call me Orik or yeh don't call me anythin' at all.”
Giddy excitement was beginning to well up in Tobi. He gave a couple eager nods and cracked a small smile.
“Good, now lemme talk a bit about the basics...”
Tobi slipped into peaceful slumber. Fatigue was the best pillow, and after all the work he had done, he was certainly tired. The rest of his reminiscing would have to wait for another time.
Inhuman Frequency
Pumpkin: Speed Training I
“C'mon, buddy. All you gotta do is run around this, alright?” Tobi set the little salamander at the beginning of a homemade, Pumpkin-sized track. Along the track were small match sticks, which Tobi would use to motivate his lazy companion.
“You ready? Okay... let's try this.” Lighting a fire at the tip of his index finger, Tobi lit the first match. There was a pause as Pumpkin's small brain registered what was happening, but eventually the warmth reached him and he was coaxed to the first match.
“Good!” Moving on to the second match, Tobi lit it and waited for Pumpkin to move toward it. He moved along sluggishly, but at least it was working. The process was repeated until the amphibian had made his first lap all the way around the track. Pleased with Pumpkin's process, he rewarded him with a tasty insect snack and got ready to walk his pet around the track again.
After replacing the matches, Tobi started where he had last time, though this time he offered the incentive of another treat in addition to the already alluring warmth of the matches. Surely enough, the critter moved a little faster to get from point to point; the promise of another snack outweighed Pumpkin's natural laziness.
“That's the spirit. Again!” Once Pumpkin had gobbled up his second piece of incentive, he was a little more willing to move around the track without as much coaxing. It was clear that, at the end of each round, he was going to get something tasty. Still, he wasn't quite at the point where he could do it without something motivating him. His movement was still rather sluggish, and sometimes he stopped to gawk absentmindedly at the burning matches. Regardless, Pumpkin made it back to beginning of the small track time and time again without any failure, and after several laps, Tobi was beginning to see improvement in his pet's movement.
“A little more, buddy.” By this point, Tobi had removed the matches from the track and poised a single lit match in front of Pumpkin's nose. The salamander immediately responded to its warm and was quick to follow it when Tobi began to move it away from him. Pumpkin progressed around the track faster than he had before, both with the idea of a treat waiting for him at the end and the warmth of the flame motivating him to keep moving. It was difficult getting through to the amphibian any other way, but Tobi knew his pet, and he was glad to see that it was working.
Of anything else he tried, his method using the flame to guide Pumpkin around had been his best. There was significant improvement to his pet's movement speed, though as it stood, it came and went with the salamander's motivation. Tobi was sure he could get Pumpkin to move around without all the motivation, but it would take some patience and some time.
“You take a break. I'll be back.” A couple minutes after he disappeared, Tobi returned with Pumpkin's food jar and put a few at the end of the track. Despite the flame method being the one that showed the most results, it wouldn't work in the long run. He needed to show Pumpkin that he will only get a reward if he gets to the end in time.
With a little push, Pumpkin ambled forward slowly, stopping every now and again to look around. By the time he reached the end and spotted his delectable meal, Tobi took it away and shook his head at Pumpkin. Of course, the salamander didn't understand what just happened, though he didn't forget the denial when he was placed at the beginning of the track again. He sauntered through it again, slightly faster than before, determined to get to his food before Tobi could so brutally remove it again. Again, no luck. The food was taken away and Pumpkin was returned to the starting gate.
“Please don't make me do this to you again, buddy.” It was hard for Tobi to be like this to his faithful pet, but he knew it was for Pumpkin's own good in the end.
Ready to go at it again, Pumpkin started off, scampering along the walled-in track as he made a dash for the food. This time the prize was his, and he munched happily on the pile of insects left for him as a reward.
“See that wasn't so—” Tobi was cut short as Pumpkin finished his snack and scurried his way back to the start of the track. “...Well, that's certainly more of an improvement than I was expecting.”
If it meant finding food at the end, there was little Pumpkin wouldn't do to repeat the results. If it wasn't there, he knew he'd have to do it again until it was.
With a slight push, Pumpkin went along the track just as he had before. This time, however, Tobi didn't place any food—he was curious to see what would happen now. Pumpkin, hardly confused by having his food disappear, went back to the beginning of the track and darted his way through in hopes that it'd be there when he came around. When again it wasn't, he did it all again with the same hope. He was moving quickly—it wasn't lightning fast, but it was certainly quicker than Tobi'd ever seen the salamander move before. A little motivation went a long way with this one, which by now was very visible, but Tobi had already seen more than enough for the day.
“Alright, alright. I think you've done enough,” Tobi announced, watching his pet go for another lap before he put an end to the creature's torture. “Eat up. You've certainly earned it.”
Although he didn't understand the praise, he understood the food place in front of him. He had just chewed through his small pile of insects before he was picked up and tucked snugly in Tobi's pocket.
“Sorry about all this. You'll thank me one day... maybe.”
“You ready? Okay... let's try this.” Lighting a fire at the tip of his index finger, Tobi lit the first match. There was a pause as Pumpkin's small brain registered what was happening, but eventually the warmth reached him and he was coaxed to the first match.
“Good!” Moving on to the second match, Tobi lit it and waited for Pumpkin to move toward it. He moved along sluggishly, but at least it was working. The process was repeated until the amphibian had made his first lap all the way around the track. Pleased with Pumpkin's process, he rewarded him with a tasty insect snack and got ready to walk his pet around the track again.
After replacing the matches, Tobi started where he had last time, though this time he offered the incentive of another treat in addition to the already alluring warmth of the matches. Surely enough, the critter moved a little faster to get from point to point; the promise of another snack outweighed Pumpkin's natural laziness.
“That's the spirit. Again!” Once Pumpkin had gobbled up his second piece of incentive, he was a little more willing to move around the track without as much coaxing. It was clear that, at the end of each round, he was going to get something tasty. Still, he wasn't quite at the point where he could do it without something motivating him. His movement was still rather sluggish, and sometimes he stopped to gawk absentmindedly at the burning matches. Regardless, Pumpkin made it back to beginning of the small track time and time again without any failure, and after several laps, Tobi was beginning to see improvement in his pet's movement.
“A little more, buddy.” By this point, Tobi had removed the matches from the track and poised a single lit match in front of Pumpkin's nose. The salamander immediately responded to its warm and was quick to follow it when Tobi began to move it away from him. Pumpkin progressed around the track faster than he had before, both with the idea of a treat waiting for him at the end and the warmth of the flame motivating him to keep moving. It was difficult getting through to the amphibian any other way, but Tobi knew his pet, and he was glad to see that it was working.
Of anything else he tried, his method using the flame to guide Pumpkin around had been his best. There was significant improvement to his pet's movement speed, though as it stood, it came and went with the salamander's motivation. Tobi was sure he could get Pumpkin to move around without all the motivation, but it would take some patience and some time.
“You take a break. I'll be back.” A couple minutes after he disappeared, Tobi returned with Pumpkin's food jar and put a few at the end of the track. Despite the flame method being the one that showed the most results, it wouldn't work in the long run. He needed to show Pumpkin that he will only get a reward if he gets to the end in time.
With a little push, Pumpkin ambled forward slowly, stopping every now and again to look around. By the time he reached the end and spotted his delectable meal, Tobi took it away and shook his head at Pumpkin. Of course, the salamander didn't understand what just happened, though he didn't forget the denial when he was placed at the beginning of the track again. He sauntered through it again, slightly faster than before, determined to get to his food before Tobi could so brutally remove it again. Again, no luck. The food was taken away and Pumpkin was returned to the starting gate.
“Please don't make me do this to you again, buddy.” It was hard for Tobi to be like this to his faithful pet, but he knew it was for Pumpkin's own good in the end.
Ready to go at it again, Pumpkin started off, scampering along the walled-in track as he made a dash for the food. This time the prize was his, and he munched happily on the pile of insects left for him as a reward.
“See that wasn't so—” Tobi was cut short as Pumpkin finished his snack and scurried his way back to the start of the track. “...Well, that's certainly more of an improvement than I was expecting.”
If it meant finding food at the end, there was little Pumpkin wouldn't do to repeat the results. If it wasn't there, he knew he'd have to do it again until it was.
With a slight push, Pumpkin went along the track just as he had before. This time, however, Tobi didn't place any food—he was curious to see what would happen now. Pumpkin, hardly confused by having his food disappear, went back to the beginning of the track and darted his way through in hopes that it'd be there when he came around. When again it wasn't, he did it all again with the same hope. He was moving quickly—it wasn't lightning fast, but it was certainly quicker than Tobi'd ever seen the salamander move before. A little motivation went a long way with this one, which by now was very visible, but Tobi had already seen more than enough for the day.
“Alright, alright. I think you've done enough,” Tobi announced, watching his pet go for another lap before he put an end to the creature's torture. “Eat up. You've certainly earned it.”
Although he didn't understand the praise, he understood the food place in front of him. He had just chewed through his small pile of insects before he was picked up and tucked snugly in Tobi's pocket.
“Sorry about all this. You'll thank me one day... maybe.”
Inhuman Frequency
Pumpkin: Speed Training II
Was it safe yet? Pumpkin poked his head out of his hiding spot and looked for the large predator that was tailing him. Within seconds, he was under attack again; the beak of a large crow slammed down next to his body, startling the salamander and sending him off in a mad dash for safety. Having been left alone outside by his owner time and time before with no issues, he hadn't expected this time to turn into such chaos.
With wide eyes and a racing heartbeat, Pumpkin scampered across the ground, feeling the bird's beady eyes boring into his back. He clambered over rocks and obstacles, narrowly avoiding more attempts at his life. Unless he kept moving, he'd be a tasty snack for a hungry bird.
The crow watched from above, keeping above the buildings while tracking Pumpkin's tiny form as he scuttled away. Pumpkin was fast enough to get across short distances of open space without worry, but it wasn't long before it appeared as though the crow would get his lunch.
Facing a large expanse of land (at least through his eyes), Pumpkin's mortality rate skyrocketed. He had no way to lose the crow and unless he moved faster than he'd ever moved before, he wasn't going to make it to the other side. Luckily for the small critter, he had some sense of survival, and it told him to run like the dickens—and he did.
Shooting out of his momentary shelter, Pumpkin started on his way across the yard. Seeing that the salamander was going to make an attempt at out speeding it, the crow took the challenge and made it's first strike. Its beak clicked together where he had been a second before, sending Pumpkin into further panic. The crow stayed low and held its beak open, hovering just behind its prey but unable to overcome him.
Pumpkin had done it: within a minute's time, he was at the other side of the yard and was able to scurry under some rocks while the crow, unable to fly away quickly enough, slammed headfirst into the yard's stone perimeter.
With a few angry squawks and a couple flaps of it swings, it set off to find a perch while it waited for Pumpkin to come out. It was a stubborn animal, but it wouldn't have to wait long to try at its revenge.
The rocks were cold against Pumpkin's skin, and being a creature of fire, he wanted out more quickly than he'd expected. He pushed through the rocks, not noticing the crow still perched nearby. Its watchful eyes were fixated on the small pile of stones and did not miss it when the salamander came crawling out.
With a startling cry, the bird announced its presence and sent Pumpkin back into a frenzy. He scurried down the path with all the speed he could muster as he knew the crow was not far behind. Its wings would beat every few seconds to motivate Pumpkin to keep going, though no where he turned seemed to be safe from the predator. Not that the animal had the sense to blame someone for his unfortunate predicament, nor had it ever been a problem before, but he would be sure to let Tobi know of his new wariness of being left alone the next time it came up.
Still running for his life, Pumpkin slipped down an alleyway and paused. He could no longer hear the beating of the crow's wings or the awful cries it made when it was going to take a jab at his life. Surely enough, the sudden tranquility was premature and the crow had simply taken the long way around to get into the alley. It zoomed down from over the adjacent building's roof, diving toward Pumpkin. This time the bird had gotten him, snagging him and carrying him off. It was times like this when his natural poison came in handy, and his body was just about dripping with it out of sheer panic. Getting a taste of it, the bird screeched and dropped the little amphibian. He tumbled to the ground hitting a few things along the way, but the moment he felt the earth beneath him, he took his chance to get away.
The crow was busy writhing around and shouting pained cries as its muscled convulsed thanks to the poison. It was the perfect get away, but Pumpkin wasn't in the clear yet. The crow's cries had summon several more birds from their roost, and while most were more interested in what the commotion was, one of them had spotted Pumpkin dashing away and decided that it was snack time.
Likely a younger bird, this crow was faster than the last and had caught up with Pumpkin with little effort. It hovered above the salamander's position until it could safely swoop down and take its meal. By then, Pumpkin's survival instincts were in overdrive, and with the last of his bodily strength, he surged forward at full speed and was on his way back home. The crow continued to follow him, though at this point it was lagging behind by a short distance. It helped Pumpkin that there were very few good opportunities to strike in this environment, but he didn't slow down as he raced ahead, hoping to make it to Tobi in one piece.
He could see his owner's house from where he was now, as well as the familiar perch he so liked to sunbathe upon. This was the final stretch, and it was the crow's last chance to make a meal out of Pumpkin. Taking that chance, the crow swooped down toward the amphibian and--
“Shoo!” Tobi shouted, waving his arms at the crow. The bird, thoroughly frightened, flew off with a furious cry. “You alright, Pumpkin?”
Pumpkin was scooped up and gently pet as he relaxed in Tobi's hand. While the dopy expression upon his face would not tell of his misadventures, it certainly said that he was content to be alive and safe.
With wide eyes and a racing heartbeat, Pumpkin scampered across the ground, feeling the bird's beady eyes boring into his back. He clambered over rocks and obstacles, narrowly avoiding more attempts at his life. Unless he kept moving, he'd be a tasty snack for a hungry bird.
The crow watched from above, keeping above the buildings while tracking Pumpkin's tiny form as he scuttled away. Pumpkin was fast enough to get across short distances of open space without worry, but it wasn't long before it appeared as though the crow would get his lunch.
Facing a large expanse of land (at least through his eyes), Pumpkin's mortality rate skyrocketed. He had no way to lose the crow and unless he moved faster than he'd ever moved before, he wasn't going to make it to the other side. Luckily for the small critter, he had some sense of survival, and it told him to run like the dickens—and he did.
Shooting out of his momentary shelter, Pumpkin started on his way across the yard. Seeing that the salamander was going to make an attempt at out speeding it, the crow took the challenge and made it's first strike. Its beak clicked together where he had been a second before, sending Pumpkin into further panic. The crow stayed low and held its beak open, hovering just behind its prey but unable to overcome him.
Pumpkin had done it: within a minute's time, he was at the other side of the yard and was able to scurry under some rocks while the crow, unable to fly away quickly enough, slammed headfirst into the yard's stone perimeter.
With a few angry squawks and a couple flaps of it swings, it set off to find a perch while it waited for Pumpkin to come out. It was a stubborn animal, but it wouldn't have to wait long to try at its revenge.
The rocks were cold against Pumpkin's skin, and being a creature of fire, he wanted out more quickly than he'd expected. He pushed through the rocks, not noticing the crow still perched nearby. Its watchful eyes were fixated on the small pile of stones and did not miss it when the salamander came crawling out.
With a startling cry, the bird announced its presence and sent Pumpkin back into a frenzy. He scurried down the path with all the speed he could muster as he knew the crow was not far behind. Its wings would beat every few seconds to motivate Pumpkin to keep going, though no where he turned seemed to be safe from the predator. Not that the animal had the sense to blame someone for his unfortunate predicament, nor had it ever been a problem before, but he would be sure to let Tobi know of his new wariness of being left alone the next time it came up.
Still running for his life, Pumpkin slipped down an alleyway and paused. He could no longer hear the beating of the crow's wings or the awful cries it made when it was going to take a jab at his life. Surely enough, the sudden tranquility was premature and the crow had simply taken the long way around to get into the alley. It zoomed down from over the adjacent building's roof, diving toward Pumpkin. This time the bird had gotten him, snagging him and carrying him off. It was times like this when his natural poison came in handy, and his body was just about dripping with it out of sheer panic. Getting a taste of it, the bird screeched and dropped the little amphibian. He tumbled to the ground hitting a few things along the way, but the moment he felt the earth beneath him, he took his chance to get away.
The crow was busy writhing around and shouting pained cries as its muscled convulsed thanks to the poison. It was the perfect get away, but Pumpkin wasn't in the clear yet. The crow's cries had summon several more birds from their roost, and while most were more interested in what the commotion was, one of them had spotted Pumpkin dashing away and decided that it was snack time.
Likely a younger bird, this crow was faster than the last and had caught up with Pumpkin with little effort. It hovered above the salamander's position until it could safely swoop down and take its meal. By then, Pumpkin's survival instincts were in overdrive, and with the last of his bodily strength, he surged forward at full speed and was on his way back home. The crow continued to follow him, though at this point it was lagging behind by a short distance. It helped Pumpkin that there were very few good opportunities to strike in this environment, but he didn't slow down as he raced ahead, hoping to make it to Tobi in one piece.
He could see his owner's house from where he was now, as well as the familiar perch he so liked to sunbathe upon. This was the final stretch, and it was the crow's last chance to make a meal out of Pumpkin. Taking that chance, the crow swooped down toward the amphibian and--
“Shoo!” Tobi shouted, waving his arms at the crow. The bird, thoroughly frightened, flew off with a furious cry. “You alright, Pumpkin?”
Pumpkin was scooped up and gently pet as he relaxed in Tobi's hand. While the dopy expression upon his face would not tell of his misadventures, it certainly said that he was content to be alive and safe.
Inhuman Frequency
Pumpkin: Tai Training I
“Alright, Pumpkin. I know you've got jutsu for your tongue, and really, I think you'd be pretty good with them if, uh... well, if your aim was better. It kind of sucks right now.” Tobi smiled apologetically, met with a dopy look from his pet.
“See this bug?” Tobi held up a live worm that he had pulled from Pumpkin's food container. “I'm gonna move it around slowly, and you're going to catch it, alright?”
While Pumpkin clearly did not understand a word Tobi was saying, the salamander was captivated by the sight of the bug, his eyes following it about as Tobi moved.
The first step to the training was to activate the techniques that would allow Pumpkin to complete the task at hand. With a few handseals, Tobi initiated Pumpkin's Long Tongue technique and the Moveable technique.
“Alright, let's start. You ready, buddy?” Tobi began to move the bug around three inches away from his pet. Pumpkin's eyes were locked on, and his tongue would slip out every now and again as he prepared to snag it. Salamanders weren't built for this kind of hunting, as his tongue was mobile but generally not used for these endeavors. Luckily for Pumpkin, he had chakra magic on his side and had higher control on his tongue than his primal brethren.
When he was ready to make his move, Pumpkin's tongue shot out and wrapped around the bug, pulling it back into his mouth.
“Good! Let's start to move it back a little.” Fishing out another worm, Tobi held it a five inches away and wiggled it to get Pumpkin's attention. The salamander was quick to respond and shot his tongue out at the worm. It was a miss, whizzing by Tobi's hand and the worm alike. Tauntingly, Tobi shook the worm a little and moved it around through the air. Determined to get it this time, Pumpkin's tongue lashed out toward it, and again he missed. The salamander wasn't easily discouraged—he didn't have the ability to feel bad about his failures, and so this was going to go on until Tobi called it quits or Pumpkin wanted to sleep.
Although he was feeling sorry for his pet at this point, Tobi kept moving the worm around as he had been all along and waited patiently for the salamander to finally get it. It took a few more tries, but eventually Pumpkin was able to snag it and have himself a treat.
“That's it, buddy.” After Pumpkin had finished eating, Tobi moved the next worm back a total of seven inches from Pumpkin and moved it about. When the amphibian was ready, he took his first shot at the dangling creature. He missed by quite a bit, which was no fault of his own; Tobi was moving the worm around faster than before, which seemed a little unfair given that this was the furthest distance yet.
“I know you can get it. Keep trying,” he encouraged, though Pumpkin's next attempt was also far off from the target. The salamander had good control over where his tongue went, but he was slow to process the prey's movements. While he would likely never be able to predict such a thing, he was particularly watchful and understood the gist of what was going on.
With a little practice (which meant a handful of misses), Pumpkin was getting closer every time he tried. Tobi was moving the worm in a similar pattern each time, and although he was moving it rather quickly, Pumpkin seemed to be watching its every movement. With a swift strike of his tongue, the salamander managed to knock the worm out of his owner's hand and scurried forward to eat it.
“Ha! Nice one. We're not done yet, though.” Retrieving yet another worm, he moved it back to ten inches, which was nearing the maximum length Pumpkin could stretch out his tongue.
Appearing to still be fairly alert and ready for the task at hand, Tobi moved his pet back to where he had been and prepared to start. Pumpkin, seeing that another snack was at stake, made his first try and getting it. Of course, like almost every other first try, Pumpkin missed. It was becoming increasingly difficult to get the worm at the range Tobi had put it to now, and the salamander found him straining himself slightly with every attempt he made. It didn't deter him from his task, but Tobi was sensing that he was pushing his companion a little too far.
“Just a little more, I promise,” he assured. Pumpkin tried a couple more times and missed, though he seemed to be predicting the worm's path a little better. His misses were slight and some were even ahead of where the worm would soon be, but none were right on target. The salamander would take long pauses between each of his attempts, leaving Tobi to wonder what he was thinking—if he were thinking anything besides following his instincts.
His success came after several more attempts, and Tobi was quick to pull another worm out and see if he could do it more quickly a second time. Surely enough, the salamander snagged his meal in nearly half the tries he had the first time. It was an improvement, and at the risk of regressing, Tobi was going to make the most of this progress.
Taking one last worm from the jar, Tobi smiled encouragingly at Pumpkin and wiggled the prey around. He was hoping for something a little better than the last time, though regardless of the results, he was going to let his pet take a rest after this worm was caught.
Tobi watched hopefully as Pumpkin began to take shots at the worm. They were off only slightly, either too far to the left or to the right. He wasn't anywhere close to how many tries it had taken the last time, and managed to come out in the end with a number a few attempts lower than his last. While it wasn't a huge success, it was still progress.
“There you go. Great job, buddy.” Scooping the salamander up, Tobi pocketed him and dropped another worm in after as a reward.
“See this bug?” Tobi held up a live worm that he had pulled from Pumpkin's food container. “I'm gonna move it around slowly, and you're going to catch it, alright?”
While Pumpkin clearly did not understand a word Tobi was saying, the salamander was captivated by the sight of the bug, his eyes following it about as Tobi moved.
The first step to the training was to activate the techniques that would allow Pumpkin to complete the task at hand. With a few handseals, Tobi initiated Pumpkin's Long Tongue technique and the Moveable technique.
“Alright, let's start. You ready, buddy?” Tobi began to move the bug around three inches away from his pet. Pumpkin's eyes were locked on, and his tongue would slip out every now and again as he prepared to snag it. Salamanders weren't built for this kind of hunting, as his tongue was mobile but generally not used for these endeavors. Luckily for Pumpkin, he had chakra magic on his side and had higher control on his tongue than his primal brethren.
When he was ready to make his move, Pumpkin's tongue shot out and wrapped around the bug, pulling it back into his mouth.
“Good! Let's start to move it back a little.” Fishing out another worm, Tobi held it a five inches away and wiggled it to get Pumpkin's attention. The salamander was quick to respond and shot his tongue out at the worm. It was a miss, whizzing by Tobi's hand and the worm alike. Tauntingly, Tobi shook the worm a little and moved it around through the air. Determined to get it this time, Pumpkin's tongue lashed out toward it, and again he missed. The salamander wasn't easily discouraged—he didn't have the ability to feel bad about his failures, and so this was going to go on until Tobi called it quits or Pumpkin wanted to sleep.
Although he was feeling sorry for his pet at this point, Tobi kept moving the worm around as he had been all along and waited patiently for the salamander to finally get it. It took a few more tries, but eventually Pumpkin was able to snag it and have himself a treat.
“That's it, buddy.” After Pumpkin had finished eating, Tobi moved the next worm back a total of seven inches from Pumpkin and moved it about. When the amphibian was ready, he took his first shot at the dangling creature. He missed by quite a bit, which was no fault of his own; Tobi was moving the worm around faster than before, which seemed a little unfair given that this was the furthest distance yet.
“I know you can get it. Keep trying,” he encouraged, though Pumpkin's next attempt was also far off from the target. The salamander had good control over where his tongue went, but he was slow to process the prey's movements. While he would likely never be able to predict such a thing, he was particularly watchful and understood the gist of what was going on.
With a little practice (which meant a handful of misses), Pumpkin was getting closer every time he tried. Tobi was moving the worm in a similar pattern each time, and although he was moving it rather quickly, Pumpkin seemed to be watching its every movement. With a swift strike of his tongue, the salamander managed to knock the worm out of his owner's hand and scurried forward to eat it.
“Ha! Nice one. We're not done yet, though.” Retrieving yet another worm, he moved it back to ten inches, which was nearing the maximum length Pumpkin could stretch out his tongue.
Appearing to still be fairly alert and ready for the task at hand, Tobi moved his pet back to where he had been and prepared to start. Pumpkin, seeing that another snack was at stake, made his first try and getting it. Of course, like almost every other first try, Pumpkin missed. It was becoming increasingly difficult to get the worm at the range Tobi had put it to now, and the salamander found him straining himself slightly with every attempt he made. It didn't deter him from his task, but Tobi was sensing that he was pushing his companion a little too far.
“Just a little more, I promise,” he assured. Pumpkin tried a couple more times and missed, though he seemed to be predicting the worm's path a little better. His misses were slight and some were even ahead of where the worm would soon be, but none were right on target. The salamander would take long pauses between each of his attempts, leaving Tobi to wonder what he was thinking—if he were thinking anything besides following his instincts.
His success came after several more attempts, and Tobi was quick to pull another worm out and see if he could do it more quickly a second time. Surely enough, the salamander snagged his meal in nearly half the tries he had the first time. It was an improvement, and at the risk of regressing, Tobi was going to make the most of this progress.
Taking one last worm from the jar, Tobi smiled encouragingly at Pumpkin and wiggled the prey around. He was hoping for something a little better than the last time, though regardless of the results, he was going to let his pet take a rest after this worm was caught.
Tobi watched hopefully as Pumpkin began to take shots at the worm. They were off only slightly, either too far to the left or to the right. He wasn't anywhere close to how many tries it had taken the last time, and managed to come out in the end with a number a few attempts lower than his last. While it wasn't a huge success, it was still progress.
“There you go. Great job, buddy.” Scooping the salamander up, Tobi pocketed him and dropped another worm in after as a reward.
Inhuman Frequency
Pumpkin: Wit Training I
“Alright, listen up, buddy. I'm going to say something, you're you going to do it, alright?” Of course Tobi was speaking of jutsu. Today he hoped to teach his pet the names of the jutsu in his arsenal, much as he would teach a dog to understand commands like 'sit' and 'roll over.' Pumpkin was a salamander though, and he knew he'd need to be patient.
“You ready? Try using your Long Tongue jutsu.” Tobi smiled encouragingly at his pet and molded his chakra for him, though the amphibian's dopy expression told him that it wasn't going to be that easy.
“Alright then.” He knew how to get Pumpkin going, and given his behavior in the past, he just needed the right motivation. Bringing out a worm from his pet's food jar, Tobi held it just out of Pumpkin's reach. The critter looked at it longingly, stepping toward it to take it from his owner. It was high over his head, and he wouldn't be able to reach it without some help.
“Long Tongue technique, Pumpkin. Looooonnnnnngggggg tongue technique.” Tobi did he best to articulate the technique's name the best he could so that when Pumpkin heard it, he'd recognize it later when commanded to use it. The amphibian did nothing about his predicament, however, and stared up at the worm with a dumb look on his face.
“Long Tongue jutsu!” Pumpkin looked at Tobi, confused by his shouting. Just when it looked as though Tobi was going to have to give up, Pumpkin's tongue shot out and snagged the worm using the Long Tongue technique.
“...I can't tell if you did that because you're hungry or if you actually listened.” Tobi scratched his head and went to fetch another worm and held it over Pumpkin's head. The amphibian didn't make any immediate movements, so Tobi felt secure giving the command to see if he was making any progress.
“Long Tongue technique, Pumpkin.” Nothing. Pumpkin sat there and stared up at the worm, not quite sure why Tobi was doing this to him. This was going as well as training a cat might go. Tobi was a patient soul though, and he didn't mind trying until he got some sign that Pumpkin was learning.
“C'mon buddy, I know you can do it.” Again, Tobi molded Pumpkin's chakra in hopes that the salamander would make a move. He sat still for a moment, his head turning slowly to look up at the worm.
“Long Tongue technique! Long. Tongue. Technique.” Whether he was tired of Tobi yelling or he really did do it on command, Pumpkin's tongue finally lashed out and took the worm.
“There we go!” Smiling triumphantly, Tobi got out another worm and prepared it the same as he had before.
“Let's try it again. Use the Long Tongue technique.” Waiting hopefully for Pumpkin to move, he was disappointed when the salamander again failed to react accordingly. He was starting to figure that perhaps Pumpkin had only done it before because it was his only method of reaching the food. Tobi understood that, but he also figured that Pumpkin would associate his words with the act, which in turn would achieve what he was looking to do.
“Sigh. C'mon...” he huffed, wriggled the worm over Pumpkin's head. “It's not that hard, is it?”
Pumpkin looked at the worm with renewed interest, as though it had just suddenly occurred to him that it was there.
“Use the Long Tongue technique, buddy.” The moment Pumpkin's tongue reached out for the food, Tobi grinned. That had been a success—there wasn't any doubt about it.
“Okay, that was good, but we're not done yet.” Bringing out a small mirror, he placed it in front of Pumpkin. Despite his docile nature, there was something about seeing himself in a mirror that really bugged the little creature.
“Use Fire Spittle, Pumpkin.” If on command, the salamander made a noise and shot a mouthful of hot spit at the mirror. Even though Tobi knew that this was the reaction he'd get regardless of what he said, at least he wasn't waiting around for a response. Regardless, he didn't want Pumpkin to be too distracted with staring down his reflection because chances were high that he wouldn't be paying attention to what Tobi was saying.
“You really don't like that, huh?” Tobi remarked, wiping the spittle from the mirror. It left little black marks all across it which were cleaned away easily enough. Setting it back down in front of the salamander, Tobi gave him the command again.
“Fire Spittle, Pumpkin.” Again, there was an immediate response and Pumpkin sent a rain of the little, flaming droplets at his reflection. He was growing antsy by this point, backing away slightly, but his eyes never moved from what he saw in the mirror.
“You know, I'm trying to make you smarter but here you are getting mad about your reflection...” Tobi observed, scratching his head confusedly. He wiped the mirror clean once again and this time set it aside. He wanted to try it without provoking the salamander, though he had his doubts about it working.
“I want you to use Fire Spittle again, Pumpkin,” he said while molding Pumpkin's chakra. The little salamander looked as though he was going to cough up another round of the fire spit, but his intentions to do so quickly died and he sat still once again.
“Argh. I thought we were making progress.” Right as Tobi was ready to throw in the towel, he heard Pumpkin hack, and another bout of the fire spittle came forth. Tobi was left to determine whether or not that was a severely delayed reaction or if Pumpkin wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to be doing anymore.
“Uh, yeah... that. Again? Use Fire Spittle.” There were a few moments of silence between the two, but surely enough, the salamander managed to cough up another use of the jutsu. Tobi smiled—that definitely was his order being followed, albeit slowly. He was okay with that; as long as his time wasn't wasted trying this in the first place, he was happy with whatever progress he could make.
Pumpkin sat idly and looked to Tobi, though not with any sharp look in his eyes as one might expect from a trained salamander. No, he still wore his dopy expression that was so characteristic of him by this point.
“That was good. We're getting somewhere. What about the Long Tongue technique? Long Tongue technique—the one from earlier. Please?” There was no response from Pumpkin at first. Perhaps Tobi had been too wordy with his command, but chances were that the training from before just hadn't stuck with him. Had Pumpkin known his thoughts, he would have apologized a moment later, as the salamander's tongue shot out to fulfill the order. Another delayed reaction, making patience all that more important here.
“Oh, uh, yeah. That's the one. Good job, buddy.” Quickly fetching a worm to feed to his pet as a reward, he settled down to see if he could get Pumpkin to do it again.
“Again, please? Long Tongue technique.” Several seconds came between the time the command was issued and the time it took Pumpkin to respond, which was far quicker than it had been before. The action was repeated and the amphibian was rewarded once again for his performance.
“Now you're getting it. Let's mix it up a little. Use Fire Spittle.” Hoping that he'd be compliant, Tobi watched excitedly for any sign of the jutsu he asked for. Of course, like every other attempt, it took a bit, but eventually Pumpkin responded with the right technique. Granted, two of his entire arsenal of techniques was hardly making a dent in what Tobi hoped to accomplish, but it was a definite start. There would likely be less trouble teaching him the names of his other techniques too, as he already had a good foundation.
“Good, good. I bet I'm tiring you out, huh, buddy?” Tobi smiled softly and pet the salamander atop his head. “Don't worry, we're almost done. I just want to see them a few more times and then we can call it quits.”
After mentioning it, he gave Pumpkin orders for one of the two jutsu, alternating between them for at least five to six more rounds. Surely Pumpkin was growing very low on chakra by now, so Tobi knew he was pushing it, but he wanted to make sure it stuck with his pet. There wasn't any point in doing the training unless there was some sort of reward from it, or so that's how he saw it. Pumpkin was certainly surprising him by that point as he fulfilled each of his orders quite diligently for the lazy creature that he was.
With that success under his belt now, Tobi picked up his pet and carried him inside where he could rest comfortable next to his favorite candle.
Apple pie. The end.
“You ready? Try using your Long Tongue jutsu.” Tobi smiled encouragingly at his pet and molded his chakra for him, though the amphibian's dopy expression told him that it wasn't going to be that easy.
“Alright then.” He knew how to get Pumpkin going, and given his behavior in the past, he just needed the right motivation. Bringing out a worm from his pet's food jar, Tobi held it just out of Pumpkin's reach. The critter looked at it longingly, stepping toward it to take it from his owner. It was high over his head, and he wouldn't be able to reach it without some help.
“Long Tongue technique, Pumpkin. Looooonnnnnngggggg tongue technique.” Tobi did he best to articulate the technique's name the best he could so that when Pumpkin heard it, he'd recognize it later when commanded to use it. The amphibian did nothing about his predicament, however, and stared up at the worm with a dumb look on his face.
“Long Tongue jutsu!” Pumpkin looked at Tobi, confused by his shouting. Just when it looked as though Tobi was going to have to give up, Pumpkin's tongue shot out and snagged the worm using the Long Tongue technique.
“...I can't tell if you did that because you're hungry or if you actually listened.” Tobi scratched his head and went to fetch another worm and held it over Pumpkin's head. The amphibian didn't make any immediate movements, so Tobi felt secure giving the command to see if he was making any progress.
“Long Tongue technique, Pumpkin.” Nothing. Pumpkin sat there and stared up at the worm, not quite sure why Tobi was doing this to him. This was going as well as training a cat might go. Tobi was a patient soul though, and he didn't mind trying until he got some sign that Pumpkin was learning.
“C'mon buddy, I know you can do it.” Again, Tobi molded Pumpkin's chakra in hopes that the salamander would make a move. He sat still for a moment, his head turning slowly to look up at the worm.
“Long Tongue technique! Long. Tongue. Technique.” Whether he was tired of Tobi yelling or he really did do it on command, Pumpkin's tongue finally lashed out and took the worm.
“There we go!” Smiling triumphantly, Tobi got out another worm and prepared it the same as he had before.
“Let's try it again. Use the Long Tongue technique.” Waiting hopefully for Pumpkin to move, he was disappointed when the salamander again failed to react accordingly. He was starting to figure that perhaps Pumpkin had only done it before because it was his only method of reaching the food. Tobi understood that, but he also figured that Pumpkin would associate his words with the act, which in turn would achieve what he was looking to do.
“Sigh. C'mon...” he huffed, wriggled the worm over Pumpkin's head. “It's not that hard, is it?”
Pumpkin looked at the worm with renewed interest, as though it had just suddenly occurred to him that it was there.
“Use the Long Tongue technique, buddy.” The moment Pumpkin's tongue reached out for the food, Tobi grinned. That had been a success—there wasn't any doubt about it.
“Okay, that was good, but we're not done yet.” Bringing out a small mirror, he placed it in front of Pumpkin. Despite his docile nature, there was something about seeing himself in a mirror that really bugged the little creature.
“Use Fire Spittle, Pumpkin.” If on command, the salamander made a noise and shot a mouthful of hot spit at the mirror. Even though Tobi knew that this was the reaction he'd get regardless of what he said, at least he wasn't waiting around for a response. Regardless, he didn't want Pumpkin to be too distracted with staring down his reflection because chances were high that he wouldn't be paying attention to what Tobi was saying.
“You really don't like that, huh?” Tobi remarked, wiping the spittle from the mirror. It left little black marks all across it which were cleaned away easily enough. Setting it back down in front of the salamander, Tobi gave him the command again.
“Fire Spittle, Pumpkin.” Again, there was an immediate response and Pumpkin sent a rain of the little, flaming droplets at his reflection. He was growing antsy by this point, backing away slightly, but his eyes never moved from what he saw in the mirror.
“You know, I'm trying to make you smarter but here you are getting mad about your reflection...” Tobi observed, scratching his head confusedly. He wiped the mirror clean once again and this time set it aside. He wanted to try it without provoking the salamander, though he had his doubts about it working.
“I want you to use Fire Spittle again, Pumpkin,” he said while molding Pumpkin's chakra. The little salamander looked as though he was going to cough up another round of the fire spit, but his intentions to do so quickly died and he sat still once again.
“Argh. I thought we were making progress.” Right as Tobi was ready to throw in the towel, he heard Pumpkin hack, and another bout of the fire spittle came forth. Tobi was left to determine whether or not that was a severely delayed reaction or if Pumpkin wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to be doing anymore.
“Uh, yeah... that. Again? Use Fire Spittle.” There were a few moments of silence between the two, but surely enough, the salamander managed to cough up another use of the jutsu. Tobi smiled—that definitely was his order being followed, albeit slowly. He was okay with that; as long as his time wasn't wasted trying this in the first place, he was happy with whatever progress he could make.
Pumpkin sat idly and looked to Tobi, though not with any sharp look in his eyes as one might expect from a trained salamander. No, he still wore his dopy expression that was so characteristic of him by this point.
“That was good. We're getting somewhere. What about the Long Tongue technique? Long Tongue technique—the one from earlier. Please?” There was no response from Pumpkin at first. Perhaps Tobi had been too wordy with his command, but chances were that the training from before just hadn't stuck with him. Had Pumpkin known his thoughts, he would have apologized a moment later, as the salamander's tongue shot out to fulfill the order. Another delayed reaction, making patience all that more important here.
“Oh, uh, yeah. That's the one. Good job, buddy.” Quickly fetching a worm to feed to his pet as a reward, he settled down to see if he could get Pumpkin to do it again.
“Again, please? Long Tongue technique.” Several seconds came between the time the command was issued and the time it took Pumpkin to respond, which was far quicker than it had been before. The action was repeated and the amphibian was rewarded once again for his performance.
“Now you're getting it. Let's mix it up a little. Use Fire Spittle.” Hoping that he'd be compliant, Tobi watched excitedly for any sign of the jutsu he asked for. Of course, like every other attempt, it took a bit, but eventually Pumpkin responded with the right technique. Granted, two of his entire arsenal of techniques was hardly making a dent in what Tobi hoped to accomplish, but it was a definite start. There would likely be less trouble teaching him the names of his other techniques too, as he already had a good foundation.
“Good, good. I bet I'm tiring you out, huh, buddy?” Tobi smiled softly and pet the salamander atop his head. “Don't worry, we're almost done. I just want to see them a few more times and then we can call it quits.”
After mentioning it, he gave Pumpkin orders for one of the two jutsu, alternating between them for at least five to six more rounds. Surely Pumpkin was growing very low on chakra by now, so Tobi knew he was pushing it, but he wanted to make sure it stuck with his pet. There wasn't any point in doing the training unless there was some sort of reward from it, or so that's how he saw it. Pumpkin was certainly surprising him by that point as he fulfilled each of his orders quite diligently for the lazy creature that he was.
With that success under his belt now, Tobi picked up his pet and carried him inside where he could rest comfortable next to his favorite candle.
Apple pie. The end.