Tate Iwamaru - Training Thread

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ShinobiTruth
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Tate Iwamaru - Training Thread

Post by ShinobiTruth » Thu May 23, 2019 1:01 pm

Taijutsu Training, 2 Points: 2029/2000 words

Alright, this was it. Sensei's first training assignment. Iwamaru was grateful to the woman, honestly. In comparison to most of his previous classmates, his teacher seemed to make a more personal interest in her students.

As he began his training with a range of stretches, he reflected on being back in this place. It felt odd to be standing in front of the targeting boards again. Some naive part of him had expected that, once he graduated from the academy, he wouldn't be using such basic training tools anymore; yet, here he stood. Shuriken in hand, Iwamaru readied himself. There were eight targets in all, stationed in a circle around him. His Sensei had instructed him to run several shuriken throwing drills until he hit the center on every throw. He would start with sequentially hiting each target going clockwise. Seemed easy enough.

Iwamaru took a deep breath and exhaled. His eyes snapped open. Go.

With a practiced touch, each shuriken flew from his hands, as fast as he could go from one target to the next. On the first four targets, his aim was true, each shuriken hitting dead center on their targets. On the fifth, however, his aim began to waiver and deviate. On the sixth, he was two rings away from center. On the seventh, he only managed to hit the outside ring. And the eighth? The eighth missed its mark entirely, the pointed throwing weapon jamming into the ground instead.

Iwamaru's lips pursed in disappointment. Only five... No wonder Sensei is having me perform these drills, he realized, mentally reprimanding himself for what he realized was a partial neglect of his martial skills. Strength was great, but strength without accuracy was useless. If he was missing the mark, that meant he was releasing the shuriken from his fingers either too early or too late. It also meant that he wasn't keeping his arm level and was letting it droop.

Gathering up his shuriken, Iwamaru returned to the center of the targets and prepared himself again. After a deep breath, the shuriken flew from his hand. This pass was better: targets one, two, three, four, five, six; all shuriken hit their mark. Seven and eight, however, still eluded him. They were closer, at least; both of the last shuriken landed on the targets this time, but they were still too far off from center to be considered anything but failures.

Iwamaru nodded. It seemed that the adjustments he was making to his aim were working. He simply needed to practice them more, to translate the motion into his muscle memory. He would have to use these skills in the heat of battle, and having to focus on the execution instead of the large picture of the battle would cost him his life.

He gathered up the shuriken once again and returned to the center of the ring. One more time... With a flurry of movement, the shuriken flew from his hands, and finally, all eight shuriken hit their targets. Satisfied at first, he went to get his shuriken. But as he rounded up his weapons, he gave pause. Practicing this only once wouldn't help him improve... or not by much, at least.

Iwamaru took his place yet again at the center of the ring of targets. This time, he pushed himself to complete each throw a bit faster than before, trying to achieve the same level of accuracy as he had before. The thud of each shuriken hitting their mark one after the other echoed through the training field. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. All eight flew true, but it still wasn't enough. Iwamaru wasted no time in recovering the shuriken and going again. Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud. Still wasn't enough. It had to feel natural.

He ran at full speed this time, retrieving all of his shuriken before hopping back towards the middle of the targets and jumping as high as he could. Down he threw, each shuriken at its target, and the lethal rain of metal stars zipped and spun through the air to strike true at their red-colored destinations.

Iwamaru landed solidly on his feet, exhaling, taking time to survey his work. He nodded after checking each target for the depth at which his shuriken penetrated the targets. His training with accuracy would mean little if he didn't throw with his full strength. These shuriken would only kill if he threw them with the intent and strength to do so.

Going back to his notes, the young soldier looked at the second drill his teacher had assigned him. The instructions confused him at first, but he followed them to the letter. He etched numbers into each of the targets, one through eight, in the order he had originally targeted them. If I remember correctly, I need to start this portion of the drill by alternating targets, Iwamaru told himself. Bringing the shuriken to bear, Iwamaru narrowed his focus. He was starting to get comfortable with throwing the shuriken more accurately, so changing the rhythm was essential to keep pushing his limits. His sensei had probably assigned these targeting variations for this purpose.

His hands flew into a flurry. One, three, five, seven, two, four, six, eight. All eight flew true. That one was simple enough. Keeping the rhythm with the same singular movement was fairly easy at this point. For good measure, he practiced the same targeting scheme twice more, each one successfully, before moving onto the next set. Iwamaru's eyebrow arched at the next set of numbers. The first half were the same! Was changing the second half of the sequence really going to make it any more difficult?

Shaking his head as he finished retrieving his shuriken, Iwamaru readied himself. The throwing stars zipped through the air, and Iwamaru gave himself away to the motion. One, three, five, seven...

Midway through, however, came a jarring stop as he started the second half. Iwamaru halting and reversing the twist of his body to target the second half of the targets in accordance with the sequence didn't come as naturally as he had anticipated. Thus, while targets eight and six struck true, target four was off center, and target two missed almost entirely, sticking into the very edge of the target's outer ring.

The difficulty of that simple movement put the purpose of sensei assigning it to him was now clear to him. She was tellling Iwamaru that he was too rigid in the range and fluidity of his movements. Had she tried to tell him herself, Iwamaru wasn't sure how he would have received that criticism. By allowing him to discover it himself, she knew he would be forced to accept an unpleasant reality and work hard to change it.

The boy smiled. He really did have a good teacher.

Retrieving his shuriken, Iwamaru positioned himself. Instead of being tense, he needed to keep his core relatively relaxed so he could make the pivot more smoothly. He tensed and released the muscles in his abdomen experimentally, getting a feel for how he'd need to exert himself to make this work. After a few minutes of practicing the motion, Iwamaru readied himself for the second attempt. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly and commenced with his attack.

The first four shuriken flew true into targets one, three, five, and seven, and as the time for the pivot came, Iwamaru's body moved more fluidly. The first half of the pivot worked quite well, targets eight, six, and four striking at center as well. The second portion of the movement, however, Iwamaru involuntarily tensed, throwing his aim for target two off slightly, hitting off center. He grunted, frustrated at himself. He was so close! Taking the shuriken up once more, he tried again, practicing the motion a few more times before letting the shuriken loose.

Finally, they all hit home. It was satisfying to hear the shuriken hit target number two square in the center. Now, he had to do it again, but even faster this time. Retrieving the shuriken, Iwamaru practiced the sequence again and again, making it slightly faster each time. Each throw became quicker, and each time he went to grab the shuriken, he would do so faster, more precisely. Eventually, he was moving at full speed, and just as before, he leaped into the air and threw the shuriken down at his targets in sequence. The similar sounds of metal penetrating wound rang through the training court.

Iwamaru landed solidly on the ground, his feet making a resounding thud on the floor. Retrieving the shuriken once more, he reached into his pack and grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat that had formed on his brow and on the back of his neck. It seems that his teacher had given one more sequence to practice, and just by looking at the targeting numbers, he knew this was going to be a doozy. There were also special instructions on this one, and Iwamaru sighed and chuckled as he read them.

Using the large pedestals in this training court, he positioned the targets on eight different platforms, each at varying heights and distances apart from both himself and each other. Setting the targets up alone took ten minutes. Iwamaru could only imagine how long he would take to hit all of them fluidly. Ah, well. There was nothing else but to get to it.

Positioning himself in the relative center of the targets, he mentally recounted the targeting sequence laid out in his sensei's instructions. Eight, two, six, seven, four, three, five, one... Taking a few minutes, he practiced the movement slowly, listening to what his body was telling him. Overextending there, too tense here, bend your back a little more, don't flex during that spin... He ran through the movements over and other, trying to make sure he and his body were working together.

Taking a deep breath, he returned back to the center. After a short pause to center himself, he began.

With a sweep of the hand, the first shuriken spun through the air to strike target eight and target two. The shuriken hit both targets, dead center.

Spinning around, Iwamaru loosed the next two shuriken. Target six was a confirmed kill, but target seven hit off to the side.

Pivoting back in the other direction, he threw the third pair of throwing stars at target four and target three. Target four was off the mark, but target three was a direct hit at the target's center.

One shuriken left in each hand, Iwamaru threw them towards target five, then target one. Both were dead on, burying themselves deep in the red.

Iwamaru allowed himself a small grin. He was close. He had to simply give it one more try, maybe two. But this time, he would do so at full speed.

Bolting in the same order as he had thrown them, Iwamaru retrieved each shuriken, one by one, counting each time he pulled one from his now thoroughly decimated targets. When he returned to center, he did not wait. In a flurry of movement, he began immediately, closing his eyes so he could feel the movement. He had already memorized the position of each target.

First was target eight and target two. He threw the shuriken, but he did not wait before throwing the next pair. Six and seven came next, a movement that was beginning to feel as fluid as breathing. Then came the pivot. Like a reed in the water, Iwamaru flowed with his body, allowing it to take him where his next targets were, and the weapons left his hands. Target three and target four followed, and before he fully realized it, he had already thrown his stars at target five and target one simultaneously. After the final thud, he opened his eyes and sighed in relief. It was a beautiful for his eyes.

All eight targets, confirmed kills. The light glinted off of the metal weapons as they remained burrowed in the wooden corpses.

And now, of course, came the worst part of the training.

Clean up.

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ShinobiTruth
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Tate Iwamaru - Training Thread

Post by ShinobiTruth » Thu May 23, 2019 3:28 pm

Ninjitsu Training, 2 Points: 2039/2000

With all of the training Iwamaru was about to do, this training field was about to become his home.

Ninjutsu was another field of study that took a hit due to his academy teacher’s focus on his physical strength. While Doton still fit his physical prowess well, he knew he would need access to more powerful jutsu before he started taking more serious missions.

Iwamaru knelt on the ground, eyes closed, focusing on his chakra. The training regiment assigned by his Sensei was daunting. Iwamaru was to practice as many of his earth element jutsu as possible within the limitations of his chakra levels until he was able to perform his ninjutsu techniques more quickly. He thankfully had a little more stamina and chakra control, but he would likely be expended by the time this was all over.

To begin, he began to practice the seals for one of his primary offensive jutsu, Ninja Tool Ambush
Ninja Tool AmbushShow
Doton • Ninja Tool Ambush
D-Ranked Ninjutsu
After performing the necessary hand seals, Iwamaru will launch a large ninja tool, such as a shuriken, kunai, or Senbon, from the ground within three (3) meters of his position. This tool is launched at a speed of five (5) and cut/pierce, with a strength of five (5) for up to two (2) meters away in any single direction. The projectile can be no larger than two feet wide.
He ran through the seals, over and over again. He could feel the chakra circulating through himself, trying to diffuse itself into the earth. He let the chakra flow, and a large stone senbon needle launched from the ground and lodged itself straight into a wooden targeting post.

Iwamaru frowned. That was no different than normal. It was still too slow. He had to mold the chakra faster. Closing his eyes once again, he focused on the seals, and he focused on molding his chakra. There was no quick way to do this. Repetition and endurance was the only solution that presented itself to his mind.

As he repeated the seals the fiftieth time, the fifty-first, they became easier to perform. He began to pick up the pace forming the seals faster and faster with each repetition. As he sped up the weaving of his hand seals, he also began molding his chakra more quickly. There was a disparity between the two at the beginning, but as Iwamaru continued practicing, the difference shrank further and further. The furious scramble of his hand seals and the molding of his chakra eventually synced together, and he let the chakra flow. A large shuriken shot up from the ground and buried itself into the same target as the senbon.

He nodded. Pulling up his check list, he put a check mark next to the corresponding name on the list he’d compiled. Then, he moved on to the next jutsu on his list: Mobile Defense. In order to use it, however, he’d need a barrier.
Sunken Shield; Mobile DefenseShow
Doton • Sunken Shield
D-Ranked Ninjutsu
After performing the necessary hand seals, Iwamaru plunges his hand into the ground and pulls up a wall made of solid stone. The wall is lifted out of the ground at a speed equal to Iwamaru's strength. The wall itself has dimensions of 3x3x1 and has a strength of five (5).

Doton • Mobile Defense
D-Ranked Ninjutsu
After performing the necessary hand seals, Iwamaru can move any single barrier or Doton structure infused with his chakra anywhere within five (5) meters of his position at a speed of five (5) in a single direction.
Since Sunken Shield relied on Iwamaru's strength for his speed, he decided to not practice that technique specifically. He was confident that the experience he would gain learning to weave handseals and improve how efficiently he could use his jutsu would translate to the execution of that jutsu as well. Thus, he weaved the seals (as fast as he could at this point) and plunged his hand into the ground as he molded his chakra. Pulling with all his might he brought the impressive stone barrier up in front of him.

Next, he closed his eyes and focused on weaving the seals for his Mobile Defense jutsu. First, he would gradually speed up the pace at which he weaved his hand seals. Then, Iwamaru would mold his chakra to match the specifications of the jutsu more quickly. It was a process he learned from practicing the first jutsu, and he hoped it would help at least streamline the rest of his training regiment today.

Despite his success with his first jutsu, Mobile Defense was posing some trouble, but not with the molding of his chakra. No, instead it was the hand seals. Particularly, Iwamaru found himself awkwardly twisting his thumb as he transitioned between the Ox, Boar, and Dragon seals, the middle section of his string of seals for the technique. Allowing his chakra to settle momentarily, Iwamaru focused exclusively on those three seals.

He would start by weaving the starting seals up until the Ox seal. He would repeat this once, twice, five, ten, twenty times, as many as it took to feel natural. Then once he was satisfied, he would add on the Boar seal, focusing specifically on the transition between the Ox and the Boar seal. Once again, he'd set to practicing this sequence in repetition, each time learning bit by bit how to fluidily execute the seals.

Next, he would add the Dragon seal, and as he practiced weaving his hand seals, he would focus on those three specific seals and the transition between them. This he practiced ten, twenty, fifty times, before finally adding the last seals onto the technique. Finally assured of the fact that he could comfortably weave the seals, he returned to molding his chakra alongside the seals.

Once again, he started by weaving the hand seals, slowly at first. As he repeated the seals, he gradually inched the speed up bit by bit. As soon as he reached a speed that he was confident he could not surpass without ruining the jutsu, he began to mold his chakra more quickly. In the same way, he slowly increased the speed at which he molded his chakra, up until the point that he felt the weaving of his handseals and the molding of his chakra was in unison. Iwamaru directed the chakra outward towards the stone wall, moving the wall three meters to the left. He repeated the jutsu again, moving it to the right. Three more times, he moved the wall, each in a different direction. Satisfied with his progress so far, he checked Mobile Defense off of his check list.

Considering the number of jutsu he was casting in quick succession, Iwamaru was starting to breathe a bit harder. All in all, he'd used roughly six or seven jutsu thus far. His chakra reserves were at about 50% if he was measuring it right. Still, this was no time to quit now. He could tell he was getting better. Weaving seals was starting to get a little bit more comfortable than when he started. Thus, he moved onto the next jutsu: Stone Grenade.
Stone GrenadeShow
Doton • Stone Grenade
D-Ranked Ninjutsu
After performing the necessary hand seals, Iwamaru plunges his hand into the ground and pulls out a small stone roughly three (3) inches in diameter, filled with unstable Doton chakra. At the end of the post, or until it makes contact with an opponent or surface, the the stone will explode with the strength of five (5).
Closing his eyes once more, he started weaving the seals for his Stone Grenade jutsu. As he continued practicing the seals, he started running into the opposite issue with the Mobile Defense technique. The seals for Stone Grenade were relatively easy to weave. Rather, it was the molding and infusion of Doton chakra that he was finding more difficult. Unlike most of his techniques, which relied on either stabilizing or immediately forcing his chakra into an object to detonate it, Iwamaru had to store unstable Doton chakra into this grenade to make this jutsu work. Dropping his hands, Iwamaru now focused on infusing a small pocket of unstable Doton chakra into the earth beneath him before retracting it. He would practice this over and over and over again until he could manage the feat more quickly.

After he was certain his molding of the chakra was up to snuff, he resumed pairing it with his hand seals. He would practice molding the chakra in unison with his hand seals, further increasing the speed of both halves with each repetition. Eventually, he reached a unity between the two, and he executed the technique, once again plunging his hand into the ground, this time producing a stone roughly the size of a baseball. Without hesitation, Iwamaru hurled the stone at the barrier he had created eariler. He was stronger than the stone creations he created; the stone broke through the barrier and immediately detonated afterwards, flinging shards of rock and dust everywhere. Twice more, he repeated the technique, and twice more he threw the stone at the barrier. By the time he was finished, the wall was little more than an artistic interpretation of swiss cheese.

Iwamaru had to catch his breath. That was nine jutsu he'd just used. He only had enough chakra for a few more jutsu. With less than steady penmanship, he checked the box next to his Stone Grenade jutsu on his list. There was one more on the list that he had to practice, one that was vital in his arsenal: Hidden Fang.
Hidden FangShow
Doton • Hidden Fang
D-Ranked Ninjutsu
After performing the necessary hand seals, Iwamaru causes a large stone blade to erupt from within five meters of his position. This stone blade is six (6) feet long and three (3) feet wide, and it erupts from the ground with a speed of five (5) and strength of five (5) in any single direction.
The exhaustion was getting to Iwamaru. Grabbing a towel from his pack, he wiped the sweat that coated his face, neck, and brow. Weaving hand seals was not going to be easy with how shaky his hands were. His chakra levels were low. Very low, in fact. In order to complete this training regiment, he had to be ready to pass out, possibly. It wasn't the first time it had happened, at least. Lifting his hands up, he started running through the hand seals and began to mold what little chakra he had.

The previous jutsu had been fairly easy to improve upon. It was mostly an issue of molding the chakra properly and making his movements for weaving hand seals quicker and more efficient. As he reached into the depths of his chakra reserves, however, the difficulty was increased much more by how little he had to work with. His vision was starting to cloud. His head ached. His ears were filled with the sound of his own pulse. Trying to simply weave hand signs took most of his focus. Though he was able to keep a modest pace with weaving his seals, molding his chakra was a slow and arduous process. Slowly, very slowly, he managed to build up the chakra to execute the technique. He let the chakra flow, and a large stone blade punched out of the ground, its tip grazing the top of the wooden target.

Iwamaru's vision clouded further, but he pushed onward, forcing himself to continue. He didn't let up. Once again, he began waving the hand seals for the technique, reaching deeper still into his waning chakra reserves, molding the chakra to fit his purposes. He would not settle for the same speed as he had just done. He couldn't. He had to be faster. He had to be more consistent. He had to make every last bit of chakra he spent worthwhile. He had to make his enemies fight for each bead of sweat; each drop of blood he would shed had to require no fewer than ten men. His hands moved more fluidly through the seals as he molded his chakra, stoked by his frustration, fatigue, and determination.

His chakra departed from him once again, and a second stone blade appeared on the other side of the wooden target, mirroring the first. He attempted to swing right into the third and final attempt at the technique, but his fatigue made it difficult to lift up his hands. Everything on his body ached at this point. The sweat he had just wiped from his face had returned with a vengeance, and as his head hang low, the saline-laced water dripped onto the floor in front of him. He was breathing heavily, even panting, as he had pushed his body to a similar point to an intense full-body workout.

For a split moment, he was seriously considering calling it here. He wasn't even certain he'd be able to walk if he used any more chakra. But he pushed that thought from his head. No. He wouldn't let himself bow out now. This was it. He had enough juice for one more. He closed his eyes, his vision far too blurry to be able to see anything clearly. As quickly as he could force himself to, he formed the hand seals for the Hidden Fang technique one last time, calling on the last dregs of his chakra to fuel his will to move the earth as he bid it to. The final blade shot straight up under the target, the large stone blade splitting the target in two.

Iwamaru fell back in exhaustion, breathing heavily. He knew he would have to train his chakra reserves more in the near future. For now, he would have to settle for the lessons he learned today. In order to get to the level of strength he needed to be, he'd have to work even harder than he had today. He would have to keep finding his limits and breaking them.

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ShinobiTruth
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Tate Iwamaru - Training Thread

Post by ShinobiTruth » Fri May 24, 2019 10:29 am

Strength Training, 3 Points: 3163/3000

This was odd. Iwamaru had already been stronger than most of his constituents at the academy when he had graduated. Why was Sensei having him train his strength, of all things?

For this training, Iwamaru has dressed down, now sporting a green tank top and grey jogging pants. For the exercises his instructor had given him. He’d have no need for his normal set of equipment.

What was even weirder was that his teacher had specifically given him a day to go to the training field. What was it that was so special that he had to wait? Sensei normally trusted Iwamaru to go when he saw fit, and Iwamaru was nothing if not consistent with his assignments.

As he came upon the field, he soon saw the answers to his questions, and he could not help as his jaw went slightly agape in astonishment. What stood before him were rwo very large weights, one small and one large. The smaller weight was no less than four feet tall and was almost as wide as his entire arm span. The larger weight dwarfed him in height and width, standing no shorter than six feet high. He looked at the instructions again, just to make sure. He was, indeed, in the right place.

With an exasperated shrug, Iwamaru set his water and towel down before wrapping his hands. It was time to get to work. It looks like Sensei has commissioned a pulley system to help him lift the weights on chains. Iwamaru would have to remember to translate his teacher's instructions more literally in the future. She wasn't one to mince words or sully the clarity of her messages with symbolism or sarcasm. Grabbing hold of the chains, he was tasked with starting with standing tricep extensions. He was to start with one hundred of them on the lowest weight.

Tightening his core, and bringing the chains holding the smallest weight over his shoulders, Iwamaru leaned forward at roughly a forty-five degree angle and began. One... two... three... four... five... Iwamaru mentally counted along with each rep. Despite the size of the weight, it didn't weigh as much as he had expected it to. Sure, it was heavier than any weight he'd lifted thus far, but only by a small margin. He anticipated that the weight would increase in intensity as time went on. Twenty-one... twenty-two... twenty-three... twenty-four... twenty-five... It wasn't much, but he was starting to feel a slight tension in his triceps. He imagined that this exercise regimen was meant not only to build his strength, but to also prime his muscles and warm him up for the heavier weights. Iwamaru was grateful to his teachers. He probably would have injured himself had he started trying to exercise on his own. Forty-one... forty-two... forty-three... forty-four... forty-five... Iwamaru had settled into a rhythm, trying to keep the exercise as intense as possible without burning too much energy. He'd learned that it was important to set a rhythm during exercise routines like this, as keeping that rhythm could help make it easier to push through the harder reps. Heat slowly began to rise off of his skin as his blood began circulating more quickly through his body. Sixty-one... sixty-two... sixty-three... sixty-four... sixty-five... Iwamaru closed his eyes and allowed himself to zone out, another trick he'd learned to get through the exercise routine more easily and without distracting himself. It worked wonders in most cases, unless his mind was clouded. Eighty-one... eighty-two... eighty-three... eighty-four... eighty-five... Most ordinary men would have quit long before this point. Chakra was such a wonderful thing sometimes. Having more stamina than a fully-grown adult as an adolescent lent itself to all kinds of limits not applying to shinobi. Ninety-six... ninety-seven... ninety-eight... ninety-nine... one hundred.

Slowly easing the chain back down to the ground, he turned and looped the chain through an additional pulley on the ground. It was time for his next exercise: standing bicep curls. And once again, he’d been assigned 100 reps. Similarly preparing his core, Iwamaru pulled up on the chains One... two... three... four... five... The last exercise had avoided triggering this particular muscle group, so it was still fresh and ready for the abuse. Iwamaru was also quite partial to this exercise. There was something primal but satisfying about it. He couldn’t explain it, really. Twenty-one... Twenty-two... twenty-three... twenty-four... Twenty-five...

An unusually cool breeze blew through the training field, crashing into his increasingly warm flesh. The sudden chill felt strangely nice. Still, he wished there was some music. If only the field were located closer to the music shop where he practiced. Old Mr. Seng would often make sure he had properly tuned his instruments by playing songs on them. They were quite calming, and strangely, they helped him focus on whatever task was at hand. Forty-one... forty-two... forty-three... forty-four... forty-five...

The echoes of songbirds tickled Iwamaru's lonely ears. The sound took him by surprise. While it wasn't an absolute rarity to hear birds in the subterranean levels of the village, it wasn't entirely common either. It seemed like this was as close to music as he was going to get. The pleasant singing drove him to continue his exercise more rigorously. Sixty-one... sixty-two... sixty-three... sixty-four... sixty-five...

A new sound entered into the mix of stimuli Iwamaru was already experiencing. The innocent cacophany of children playing in the streets rang out through the massive cavern. It was fine. So long as they didn't scare away the songbirds, he was content. Eighty-one... eighty-two... eighty-three... eighty-four... eighty-five... The first beads of sweat were beginning to form on Iwamaru's lower back. This was arguably the best part of his exercise routine: the point where his blood was pumping and nothing was starting to hurt yet. It also tended to be the shortest period in his exercise. Ninety-six... ninety-seven... ninety-eight... ninety-nine... one hundred.

Once again, he controlled his muscles as he set the weight as gently as possible on the ground, hitting the training ground floor with a small thud. Next, Iwamaru moved over to a primitive looking incline leg press machine. As he walked over, he was confused to see there were no weight discs on the sides. He was confused. How would this help him train his legs?

Then he realized what he would have to do, and he couldn't help but grimace ever so slightly. Walking over to the weight, he unhooked the weight from the pulley and wrapping his arms around it, lifted it off the ground, reminding himself to lift using his legs instead of his back. Trudging a little bit more slowly, he set the weight on the back of the leg press before sitting down in the chair. Placing his legs evenly on the board, Iwamaru began his next exercise. His goal, as the previous exercises, was 100 reps. One... two... three... four... five...

Amidst the clanking of chains and his efforts in relocating the large weight, he hadn't realized that the sound of the children playing had gotten closer. They were still a ways off, but they appeared to be heading his way. One... two... three... four... five...

Iwamaru closed his eyes, trying to focus on the movement and the sound of the songbirds high above. The noises he had dismissed before, the children, was getting louder still. Focusing became more difficult. Twenty-one... twenty-two... twenty-three... twenty-four... twenty-five...

Sweat now coated the small of Iwamaru's back. Focusing on using the muscles in his legs instead of his lower back, each rep was deliberate and controlled in its execution. Muscle control was just as important as force in building strength, and he could easily injure himself if he used the wrong muscle group for an exercise by accident. Forty-one... forty-two... forty-three... forty-four... forty-five...

His legs started to feel the burn around the fifty rep mark. He was already breaking a pretty decent sweat. Though he didn't think that the second weight would be too much of an issue, the third largest weight definitely intimidated him. As he finally hit his hundredth rep on the leg press, he realized that he couldn't allow himself to focus on that. Worrying about how he might fail would make it more difficult to succeed.

His next exercise was 100 shoulder pulldowns. As he started this exercise, Iwamaru's eyes spied a group of small children walking past the training field. Since this was a sitting exercise, this was the only exercise that let him see outside instead of focusing entirely on his exercise program. They were loud and rambunctious as expected. By their apparent age, they were likely academy students. Iwamaru smiled to himself. He remembered walking home with his classmates like that. For some reason it felt like such a long time ago.

Sweat continued to trickle down his back, the back of his neck now thoroughly soaking his shirt with sweat and perspiration. Iwamaru's breaths were coming in rougher spurts. Once again, doubt began to creep into his mind, but he pushed it out. There was no place for it here. Ninety-six... ninety-seven... ninety-eight... ninety-nine... one hundred.

Iwamaru reviewed the regiment, looking to take a short breather before continuing. He had just one more exercise to take care of before-

NO BREAKS.

He blinked and read the line again, just to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

NO BREAKS.

...Ouch. Okay, so this was about to get harder.

With an irritated sigh, he moved on to the last exercise before moving to the next weight level: bench press. There was no easy way to do this one. Unhooking the weight from the chain yet again, Iwamaru carried the weight over to the bench. Laying down slowly, Iwamaru held the weight in his hands. Pushing the weight up, he began the exercise. Counting each rep in his mind, he couldn't help but feel like this exercise was a bit harder than he had anticipated. It wasn't like he had even changed weights yet. Despite this, his muscles were a little less responsive to his commands than they had been at the beginning of his workout. No doubt, fatigue was starting to get to him. Still, he pushed through. It was at about fifty reps that he heard a voice suddenly ring out.

"Wha'cha doin'?"

He craned his neck upward to glance at the source of the sound as he continued his exercise. He'd been so focused on what he was doing that he'd stop paying attention to what was around him. The children had stopped and were staring wide-eyed at him hoisting what they likely thought was a very large, oddly-shaped rock over his chest.

A breathless chuckle escaped his throat. "Ah... Y'know... Exercising," he offered as a reply, continuing with his reps. "Gotta... stay strong... and get stronger... right?"

They whispered amongst themselves. "Are yew a ninja, mister?"

Iwamaru was glad they couldn't see him, lest they be angered by his quizzical expression. "I prefer 'shinobi.' And yes, I am," he answered. He couldn't say that he was prone to start conversations with young children. This child must have just started in the academy. His curiosity was understandable.

Another voice rang out. "Have yew killed anywun?"

Iwamaru stopped. For a moment, the weight he held literally on his chest was forgotten. The child wasn't wrong for asking the question. Shinobi were soldiers. It was that simple. Soldiers were those trained for war. He didn't regret becoming a shinobi. But he was more than just a soldier... or at least he wanted to be more than that. Resuming, he finished his bench presses before tossing the weight to the side. The thunderous clap of the weight hitting the floor beside him before sitting up. "...No... Not yet, at least," the shinobi acknowledged as he looked at the kids. "But if doing that means protecting this village, and the people in it... then I will if I have to."

Getting up from the bench, Iwamaru returned the large weight to its place and picked up the second weight... or at least he attempted to, at first. He had both overestimated his energy levels and underestimated the true weight of what stood before him. Lifting the darn thing to get it chained to the pulley system was an accomplishment all its own. Thankfully, the second set of reps for the exercises using this weight were much lower: twenty five in total.

Beginning his second set of tricep extensions, Iwamaru clenched his jaw and drew energy from his core. The weight difference was substantial. Each rep was much slower than his first set.One... Two...

A softer voice poked out of the silence, ringing clear through the air. "Do all shinobi kill people?"

Iwamaru stopped. This was a bit much. He was already having to focus on the task in front of him. Why was he getting deep, existential questions from seven and eight years old on top of it? He had half a mind to turn and dismiss them... but he didn't. His thoughts turned to his mother and how she had answered all of his question, regardless of how pointless and contrary they were. And these weren't pointless questions. What he said, however happenstance this meeting may have been, could affect these kids' choices moving forward. Resuming his tricep extensions, he was still keeping count in his head. Twenty... Twenty-one...

Finally, he finished his twenty-five reps... and he set the weight down, slowly this time. As he reassembled the pulley system for his bicep curls, he gave his answer to the children. "I'm not... gonna lie... Shinobi are soldiers. We live... we fight... and we may die for the village," Iwamaru replied as he pulled on the chains, beginning his first curl. "But we're not killers. We don't just fight people... We don't..." He paused to complete a rep. "We don't just... kill people... We also save lives... We help our neighbors... We protect our friends and families... We fight... for something greater than ourselves."

Ten reps had passed as he turned his neck back towards the children. "That's... what it means to be a shinobi... Or at least... That's the kind of shinobi... I want to be," he finished, working on his fifteenth rep. His entire shirt was now drenched in sweat, and droplets streamed down his face to fall to the ground. Even as he spoke with the kids, his arms never stopped working. Matter of fact, reaffirming his convictions seemed to give him an impressive burst of energy. He turned back to the weight. Even the kids understood that he was done with words. Everything that he had to say had been said.

Ten reps later, Iwamaru lowered the weight to the ground slowly. His entire body was beginning to groan. His core was starting to feel weak, his arms were heavy, and he was about to turn his legs into jello with these leg presses. Separating the weight from the chains, Iwamaru squatted and hoisted the weight up, managing to shakily get to his feet. Setting the large stone on the leg press, he sat down and got to work. One... Two... The children had been silent for a few minutes. He suspected they had scurried off after he had spoken his piece. It mattered not. He was close to being done. His legs pulsed and ached as they pushed against the weight and gravity. Fifteen... Sixteen

A cramp erupted suddenly in his leg, bringing his exercise to a temporary halt. Iwamaru hissed as he clenched his teeth and slowly worked through the last ten reps. As soon as he finished the final rep, he threw the safety bars up and let the platform slam down. Rolling off the chair to his knees, he slowly got to his feet and lifted the weight off of the leg press. He was so fatigued that he had to hold the weight with his upper back at this point to move it back to the pulleys.

With a thud the weight hit the ground, and he hooked the massive stone up to the chain pulley. His shoulders and back already ached from having to lift the stupid weight, and they protested as he began his shoulder pulldowns. With each rep, he began to hiss and grunt as his body continued to scream at him to stop. He refused to listen to that voice. He had to press on. He had to prove his convictions through his actions. Though each rep served to bring a new wave of fatigue, he deafened himself to everything that was telling him to stop. Twenty-three... twenty-four... twenty-five.

Now came the final exercise: the bench press. He disconnected the chain and bent to pick up the weight.

It wouldn't budge.

Iwamaru breathed deeply, exhaling before tightening his core. With a growl, he poured all of his force into lifting the blasted weight. His will eventually conquered the stone, and with the stone in hand, he lay down on the bench and began his bench press. One... Two

His back started screaming first. He ignored it.

Three... Four...

Next, his shoulders bulged and twitched. He gritted through the soreness and continued.

Five... Six...

His triceps begged him to stop. He did not relent.

Seven... Eight

His biceps blared in alarm. He silenced them.

Nine... Ten...

His elbows struggled against the pressure. He gave no quarter.

Eleven... Twelve...

His forearms felt like they were spasming. He quickly got over himself.

Thirteen... Fourteen...

His wrists threatened to buckle. He pressed forward anyways.

Fifteen... Sixteen...

The palms of his hands started to bleed. The pain added to his determination.

Seventeen... Eighteen...

His fingers felt like they were going to crack. He dug them into the weight.

Nineteen... Twenty...

His chest started to ache. He drew all the power he had left from his core.

Twenty-one... Twenty-two...

His core began to tremble. He started to push with every muscle in his body in unison.

Twenty-three... Twenty-four...

With one last cry, he threw himself into the weight.

"TWENTY-FIVE."

The exhausted genin simply shoved the weight from above him, the weight falling so solidly that it left an indent in the ground. He had exactly zero energy left. Realizing he would have to walk home now filled him with dread. After laying there catching his breath for five minutes, something popped into his view. A canteen? And whose arm...?

He turned to look. It was the little girl from before.

Locking eyes with her, he slowly sat up, nodding in thanks as he accepted the canteen. Opening it and swigging, he tasted fresh cooled green tea... with a splash of cinnamon and honey. "I appreciate that. Thank you," he reaffirmed.

The little girl nodded. "I wanna be somewun that helps people, too," she replied.

He paused. What should he say?

"Become a shinobi, and you can."

He blinked in surprise. Had he really meant to say that? He took a deep breath. Yes. Yes, he had.

"Become a shinobi... and you will."

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Tate Iwamaru - Training Thread

Post by ShinobiTruth » Fri May 24, 2019 10:09 pm

Stamina Training, 4 points: 4079/4000

So. Sensei wanted him to climb a literal cliff now. Great.

"When Sensei said a wall, I was thinking he was maybe referring to a building," Iwamaru muttered to himself. "A few apartment buildings, maybe. Heck, do it a few dozen times even, a hundred times if you have to."

Clipping his belt and pack to his waist, Iwamaru looked up. "A CLIFF IS NOT THE SAME AS A WALL, SENSEI," he barked to himself, his protest fading into the wind.

Coming with only a pack, a tank top, jogging pants, and hand and foot wraps as he instructed, he took a deep breath as he prepared for his ascent. Taking some chalk out of his pack, Iwamaru dusted his hands with the white powder, clapping his hands to shake off the excess. With his left arm reaching up to grab a small rut, he began his climb.

0 meters.

The first part of the climb is always the easiest, and even at its easiest, it is still slow. This was not like weight training, where he could simply pick up the equipment and go at it. Each step had to be calculated, each movement deliberate and precise. Less than ten meters up, he already encountered his first obstacle. The next viable ledge was a solid three feet away, up and to his right. Letting his right arm and leg hang, Iwamaru braced his left leg for a jump. With a push, Iwamaru flew towards the small lip of rock, and his fingers bit down into the fingerhold. This left him hanging by only his right arm, nothing but a freefall of over three stories between him and the ground. Pulling himself up by his arm, Iwamaru contimued his climb up the seemingly sheer rock face.

Already, he was noticing the winds up at this height were a bit stronger than down below him. He assumed that this was simply going to get worse as his altitude incrased. For now, he trudged onward. He was glad he had done that strength training. Otherwise, this would have moved from "ball-bustingly hard" to "screw that, it's impossible."

Iwamaru contemplated how he could both like and hate someone at the same time so intensely. "I'm gonna have words for you, Sensei," he growled through his teeth.

10 meters.

The already slow climb was beginning to slow further still. Thankfully, he wasn't to the point where he had to start trying to punch his fist through the rock for hand holds, but he knew at some point, he was going to have to. The winds were getting rougher, and they were starting to visibly batter his back and blow an annoying amount of dust in his eyes. Reaching down towards his belt carefully with one arm, he unhooked a canteen he'd prepared just for this training. Taking a small sip, he closed the cap and hooked the canteen back onto his belt. The water helped soothe his surprisingly dry throat and distract him from the surprisingly coarse feeling of the rock wall he was climbing up.

About halfway through this section of the cliff, Iwamaru hit another roadblock, one more serious this time. The next handhold was more than twenty feet away, and while he could have simply walked up the surface of the wall, it woud have defeated the entire purpose of the training. He wouldn't learn how to endure if he took the shortcut. Channeling a little bit of chakra into his fingers, Iwamaru drove his fingertips into the rock, punching little divots in the face of the cliff. Leaning onto his left leg, Iwamaru started slowly punching his way, more or less, towards the ledge. Aside from the size of the task ahead of him, Iwamaru had to admit that it actually wasn't that bad once you got into the thick of it. Heck, one might even find some sort of catharsis-

The rock below his feet gave way.

It was pure reflex (with just a touch of panic) that kept Iwamaru from falling over fifty feet towards the ground. Reaching back into his pack, he pulled out one of his larger kunai and jammed the blade into one of the divots he had just made not a couple of minutes prior. Never had his grip on his weapon be so firm. Pulling himself up, he channeled more chakra into his hand and dug forcefully into the rock, this time curving his fingers in and down into the cliff, making a much more stable divot. Returning the kunai to his pack once he felt safe, Iwamaru continued his ascent, eventually reaching those footholds.

Yeah, okay. This just went back to being a terrible experience.

25 meters.

His canteen was halfway empty, but he was only a quarter of the way up this forsaken construct. His fingers, despite already being callused, had started to hurt, as did his wrists. His back had long since begun to feel sore, and his glutes were taught and at risk of spasming. He was probably being a big baby, but he allowed himself to not care while he was alone, free-climbing a wall for training. Sensei always made him do weird, off-the-beaten-path training like this. Jeez, the woman could at least be here to give him a pep-talk, a break, anything-

"So how many times have you cursed my existence?"

Looking up, Iwamaru saw the blasted woman herself, standing on the cliff face itself with a somewhat sinister grin. He was surprised to see the fair skinned, raven-haired teacher in similar attire to himself: sky-blue jogging pants with a dark blue tank top. It was a particularly low-cut tank top, which did not surprise the genin. His Sensei was both a fairly relaxed and open person, and she was also quite blessed physically. In most cases, Iwamaru had the good fortune of seeing her in her mission outfits, but there were times where he had been summoned to her home for instructions instead. In those rare occassions, Iwamaru had learned to fight hard to resist the urge to stare at his Sensei and her nigh immaculate figure. What she had on now was formal in comparison to what she wore at home. For that, he was grateful. This climb was already difficult enough without having to worry about also fighting against his own male tendencies.

Her sharp green eyes peered down at him. "Such a responsible young boy," she chuckled. Considering her height, her volume made it like a large gufaw, lest her voice be drowned out by the cross-winds.

Iwamaru returned his gaze to the rockface. "Unless you've come here to offer advice, Sensei... I'd appreciate your silence, please," he called back, as he stretched to reach another handhold.

A lance of pain ran through his forehead. This woman (he promised his mother he wouldn't use profanity) had just thrown a rock at him! He was forty meters off the ground. What, in all that was holy and sacred in this world, was she thinking?! "Can I help you... Sensei? he asked through gritted teeth.

She chuckled again. "Oh, you're already helping me," the woman replied coyly. Making a few seals, a platform jutted out from the wall and she sat down on it, dangling her legs over the edge. "I was feeling a bit bored before my evening outing, and I decided to check in on my dear little student. Watching you struggle certainly qualifies as entertainment in my eyes. You're so earnest and forthright when you work."

Iwamaru shook his head, reaching up to grab the next handhold. "Well... I suppose... I should be glad that you've taken an interest in me, Sensei," he sneered. "Tell me... Do your other students... get as much attention as I do?"

Much to his surprise, she shook her head. "None of them are as interesting, or as hard of workers, as you are. And will you quit calling me Sensei? I'm only 21. Call me Mariko."

Iwamaru shook his head. "No can do, Sensei. To do so would dishonor my mother's name."

The teacher's eyes softened just a tad, even as she watched him slowly making his way towards the fifty meter mark of this climb. "You aren't defined by your parents, Iwamaru. You can be your own person," she pointed out.

His fingers dug into the cliff face to form another handhold. "But what I do reflects on them," Iwamaru retorted. "If I don't do all I can to live up to their example, what does that make me?"

The question hung in the air, the silence a contrast to the howling winds at their present height.

50 meters.

"Sensei... remind me again... why we have to always do unorthodox training?"

Half way up the cliff, roughly, and Iwamaru was starting to sense the frays of his energy and his sanity split. His fingers were now officially skinned and starting to bleed, he had several small cuts on the palms of his hands, and the wind was mercilessly whipping back and forth against him. His canteen was about a quarter full, and his entire body was coated with sweat save for his chalk covered hands. Mariko was still right beside him as he slowly zigzagged his way up the cliff face, still chilling on that platform. Iwamaru knew better than to grab onto her platform. Aside from a nasty slap, she'd increase the amount of training he'd have to do. Iwamaru was all for training, but he was certain he was about to fall into an exertion-induced coma after this, if such a thing existed.

"You said you want to get stronger as quickly as possible, right?" she yawned, having spawned yet another platform at the seventy-five meter mark. "In order to do that, you need to shock and stress the body to its limits. That is significantly easier to do when you assign it extraordinarily unusual or difficult tasks."

Iwamaru's entire body was thoroughly sore. He had dried blood streaks on his hands from where it had run down from his palms and fingertips. He'd forgone chalk at this point, lest the wounds get infected. Instead. his hands were wrapped with gauze, which he'd had to do while hanging off this literal cliff. It had not been a quick process. "Considering you just... had me bulk up using weights... I find that a little difficult to believe," he called back up as he gripped the next handhold available to him.

His nonchalant sensei was sipping what appeared to be tea out of a small cup. "Well... you're not wrong," Mariko acknowledged. "There are certainly training compounds where you could get the same training... but it would come with none of the experience."

Iwamaru looked up as he stepped up to another crack in the cliff face with his left foot. "Experience?" he asked, clearly confused by his teacher's last statement.

Mariko nodded. "Of course. I haven't pushed you so hard that you've lost all ability to reason on things, have I?" she joked, taking a jab at her student. She enjoyed watching Iwamaru bristle at statements as such, and boy, did he ever bristle. "I want to you think about this scenario. You're charged with rescuing a diplomat from a pack of roving bandits in the mountains. Let's assume that these bandits are well coordinated and use flags or smoke to signal their keep, or main base, in the event of an enemy attack. These bandits have already given their ultimatum, and they show no remorse in killing innocent people if no one acquiesces to their demands. How do you get inside without alerting the forward guards?"

Great. Now, in addition to the climb, he had problem solving he had to do. Still, at least the question was fairly easy to answer. "You find a blind spot in their surveillance and try to exploit it," Iwamaru replied, certain he had analyzed the proposed situation correctly, carefully testing the next handhold and foothold before making the transition.

But Mariko wasn't finished. "And what if the only blind spot is a several hundred meter cliff to the back of the keep?" she shot back.

Ah. That was a good point. He would have likely held his tongue if this were a normal conversation. But his fatigue and exasperation at the task he was currently trying to fulfill overrode just a small portion of his good sense. "So... I'm climbing... this literal cliff... to prepare for that... unlikely possibility?" Iwamaru contested. "Weren't you... the one who told me... not to obsess over... every single likelihood?" the genin retorted as he lifted himself up to another handhold.

Once again, his sensei shook her head. "It's to help you think outside of the box," Mariko corrected. "It's to help you remember to always try to think of the option that no one else will think of. That out of the box imagination could not only save your life, but it could help you succeed in a mission that you would otherwise fail. Sticking to the script can be good, but only if doing so provides the greatest chance of success. Going impromptu is much easier when the impossible is possible for you."

Iwamaru was astonished, so much so that he nearly forgot about the massive amount of pain his back was in. That surprisingly well-thought, careful reasoning had come from his sensei? His sensei who, at one time, had Iwamaru carry her home on his shoulders after she'd gotten too drunk at a bar? "Outside the box... I think I understand, Sensei," Iwamaru acknowledged, roughly jamming his chakra infused fingers into the rockface to make another handhold.

She shook her head. "Nah. You'll understand when you actually do it on a mission," Mariko countered. "You'll understand when you see the light of surprise and dread in your enemies' eyes before cutting them down."

Iwamaru's skin chilled just a bit as he leaped to another handhold and pulled himself up by the arm before finding additional purchase. He knew he'd have to kill someone at some point, and he was fairly certain he was ready for it. But life was still life. It was still something sacred to him. Some people would not stop their evil ways unless their life was forfeit, but Iwamaru also took no pleasure in it. It was a necessary evil in his work. When other shinobi in the military spoke of killing, however, he often found a callous disregard for human life or simply life in general. It was as if the most important thing in their lives were to keep score of how many graves they had opened up for their enemies. The hyper-patriotism that flooded this village was one of the few things he couldn't stand. Loyalty was important, but blind loyalty was a crutch and a danger. It made even his own name, a literal patriotic namesake, hard to swallow at times.

He was getting closer to the seventy-five meter mark. For all of irritation that this "experience" provided, Iwamaru had to admit that part of him liked this. Pushing your body to its limit to try and surpass it was a great feeling. The view was nice, too, as he was able to see a large portion of the landscape surrounding him. Everyone looked so small down on the streets below. His train of thought was interrupted by another rock to the head. "Really?!" he barked at his sensei.

"Oh shush, that one wasn't me," she defended amidst laughter. "I just didn't stop it from hitting you is all. I'm being kind enough to sit with you and personally observe your training for once. The least you could do is provide me with some entertainment."

Iwamaru ground his teeth in irritation as he jammed his foot into a crack before pressing down, making sure the foothold was secure before he climbed up further. "Why does your 'entertainment'... tend to take the form... of a masochistic tendency to do me... superficial bodily harm and distract me... from important tasks that I'm working on?" he further questioned. His body was beginning to tremble from the exertion of simply holding himself up on the wall, and his fingertips were beginning to go numb. His canteen had just one swig of water left. Taking the last slosh of water down his gullet, Iwamaru threw the canteen up towards Mariko, who caught the bottle without even looking.

Mariko poured herself another cup of tea from her canteen. "Oh, come on, now, Iwamaru. I warned you from the first day we met that I wasn't some prim and proper young lady," the jounin called back. "I enjoy myself some harmless jokes and pranks."

Iwamaru grimaced. He had heard stories aplenty of Mariko's "harmless" jokes and pranks. She'd had to reimburse the cabbage farmer for damages to his cart and crops after she'd shoved Iwamaru off of the roof during a patrol to, quoting the sinister teacher herself, "test his reflexes. He himself hadn't escaped unscathed, having to pick a number of splinters out of his skin over the next few days. "I think... your definition of 'harmless'... differs quite a bit... from most other people, Sensei," he observed as his hand hit the last handhold before the next benchmark.

Mariko simply shrugged. "Eh. That's because most people are squares."

75 meters.

Iwamaru's entire body was drenched in sweat. The shaking he'd felt just a few meters before had gotten worse, and he was starting to get a bit of a headache. Was that due to exhaustion or blood loss from the wounds on his hands? He wasn't sure at this point. All he knew was that he had to get to the top. Focusing what little chakra he had left into his fingers, he continued bit by bit, shoving them into the rock. As he climbed, he kept that same rhythm: right hand, right foot, left hand, left foot. The rhythm was important; he hadn't anticipated exactly how much chakra he'd used up simply making this climb.

In typical fashion, Mariko had gotten bored after Iwamaru stopped talking and walked up to the top of the cliff, saying she would wait for him at the top. He was fine with this development. For all of her helpful instructions and information, she was an absolutely terrible training partner, and she nigh constantly poked fun at every single odd thing that he said or did, if not something about his physical appearance or how overly formal he was. She was often a distraction, and Iwamaru was grateful to be rid of it, at least for now.

Right hand, right foot, left hand, left foot.

The winds up here were so powerful that they threatened to rip the weakened Iwamaru right off and send him spiraling almost eighty meters down into the ground. He clenched his handholds more tightly, digging his bloodied fingertips into the rock even further. His entire mouth was as dry as sandpaper, and the sound of his own pulse had begun to fill his ears.

Right hand, right foot, left hand, left foot.

There. Now he was at eighty meters. Considering he was closer to the top now than he was to the bottom, even his exhausted self knew the best option was to simply push through and finish the climb. And yet, despite being so close to the top, he'd run into another roadblock, the biggest he'd faced yet during his entire training today. The top twenty meters of the climb had no solid footholds or handholds he could grip. Whether by human hand or by nature's spiteful fury, the last twenty meters of the cliff face was rubbed smooth, with almost a sheen. Had he not been on the cliff itself and seen the rock elsewhere, Iwamaru would have sworn on all that he was that the rock was manufactured or polished in a shop. Reaching into his chakra pools, he coated both hands and both feet in chakra. He had done his best to conserve what chakra he could up until this point. It seemed this last stretch would determine whether his rationing of his own energy had been worth it. Slowly pushing each hand and foot into the rock to secure gripping points, Iwamaru started to close the last twenty meter stretch.

Right hand, right foot, left hand, left foot.

Iwamaru felt one of his hands start to give, and he focused his grip even more on that hand. He looked up at his left hand, the culprit in the loss of stability. Something was different about this rock. The smoothness made it even more difficult to grab, even when he had disrupted the surface material and forcibly manufactured a hand hold. If he stayed in one position for too long, he would risk falling. With this knowledge in hand, Iwamaru poured all his energy into making towards the top of this accursed cliff.

Right hand, right foot, left hand, left foot.

Now both hands were starting to slip. This wasn't good. Hanging on tightly for his life, Iwamaru pulled out one of his larger kunai, like he had before to stop his fall. This time, he poured chakra into the tip of the blade and reaching above his current right hand hold, he plunged the blade down and into the rock. Making certain he had a firm grip, he then lifted his right foot and got it secured before repeating the same process with his left hand. Grabbing the other larger kunai from his pack, he drove the point as deep into the stone as possible.

Right hand, right foot, left hand, left foot.

He'd managed to cover the first ten meters. Only fifteen more to go. His shoulders now joined his back in the choir of agony that screamed inside his body. Everything was sore, but his back and shoulders especially were crying in pain, as raw as exposed nerves. Despite the protest of his own body, he continued to push towards the end. He was close to the end of this irritating trial, and he wasn't about to let his own weakness conquer him. He ignored the pain and continued climbing.

Right hand, right foot, left hand, left foot.

Only ten meters left. Iwamaru's impatience drove him forward. He poured every last bit of strength he had into the home stretch. He focused on the feeling of being on solid ground again and used that as hope to finish the task at hand. He audibly grunted as each tortured movement of his body brought him closer to the completion of this nightmare.

Right hand, right foot, left hand, left foot.

Five meters. A mere fifteen feet separated Iwamaru from victory. Would he simply fail here and be the man who almost climbed a more than three hundred foot cliff? No, he would not. He would be more than that.

Right hand, right foot, left hand, left foot.

An audible sigh of relief, even with the high winds buffeting his back, erupted from Iwamaru's throat as his fingers clasped around the ledge of the cliff. With a final surge of strength, he hoisted himself up and over the edge, rolling with his side onto his back, breathing heavily as he finally was able to catch his breath for the first time in a very long time. He threw the kunai over to his right side, the metal weapons clattering on the ground. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes and relished the surprising silence that seemed to come over the area. It was nice. He could enjoy-

"Finally. Geez, that only took you like half an hour. You know it's rude to keep a young woman waiting, right?"

Oh gods. Not her. He opened his eyes and groaned at what he saw. It was indeed Mariko. Others would take her gorgeous features as a sign of welcome. But Iwamaru knew better. He knew the heart that beat within that well-endowed chest. Nothing but machinations and torture awaited those that dared venture into the depths of this woman's mind.

"I... could use... some help here..." the young man relented, too depleted and drained to protest anything at this point.

With a wry grin, she retrieved his kunai before leaning down and propping him up on her shoulders. "You should get some rest. You're going to need it for your training tomorrow."

Iwamaru groaned. It never ends, it would seem...
Last edited by ShinobiTruth on Mon May 27, 2019 12:38 am, edited 7 times in total.

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Tate Iwamaru - Training Thread

Post by ShinobiTruth » Fri May 24, 2019 10:10 pm

Instinct Training, 4 points: 4055/4000

"Well, well! And here I thought that, after the whole cliff thing, I might have actually scared you off."

Iwamaru didn't give that quip the dignity of a direct response. Besides, he frankly would have had to acknowledge what they both already knew. After getting rested up, Iwamaru's stamina had increased considerably, his already gifted energy pools deepening even further. Any sensor would see a level of chakra equivalent to most chuunin. Though he was hardly some sort of legend, Iwamaru's progress was impressive by most standards. With a bit more training, Iwamaru would plausibly be able to take on more difficult missions with relative ease. He had come with only his taotie jian as instructed, for reasons that still eluded him. Iwamaru imagined that the reason for that specific order would be revealed in a relatively short period of time.

Iwamaru's eyebrow arched in curiosity as he saw that his teacher had a rather large scroll next to here as he walked into the training field. That scroll could fit enough weapons to supply a small army. What could she possibly need to do for this training?

She seemed not to be willing to indulge his morbid curiosity voluntarily. "Hey, go stand over there," Mariko ordered, motioning towards a large wooden board.

At the base of said board, there was a white chalk square matching the dimensions of the wooden board. in the middle of this square was a white circle. Iwamaru presumed he had to stand on that circle, which he did. Her instructions only added to the confusion, as she was considerably far away from him, only really within shouting distance. "Is this really close enough?" he called, hoping to get a response.

Instead of answering, Mariko made a flurry of handseals and unfurled the scroll. In a puff of smoke, a torrent of shuriken flew towards his position.

They were too fast for him to dodge. There was no way he'd be able to move out of the way in time. Weaving the appropriate seals, Iwamaru was barely able to use his Sunken Shield technique and pull a slab of rock up from the ground. The air around him sung with the violent, cacophonic screams and screeches of metal against rock and the dull tones of wood punctured by sharp steel. Eventually, the sounds stopped and the dust settled. To say Iwamaru was on edge would be an understatement. A number of holes had been punched through the barrier he had pulled from the ground. By some miracle, he had managed not to suffer any damage, but had he delayed by even a microsecond, it could have easily spelled trouble. Understandably incensed, Iwamaru stood up abruptly. "Are you insane, Sensei?! That could have killed me!" he shouted, able to tell even from this distance that she was laughing.

And, of course, she was. "Oh, the look on your face!" she chuckled, barely able to catch her breath from the strength of her mirth. "You're redder than a tomato!"

Iwamaru grit his teeth, trying to contain his frustration. Why was it that all of Sensei's interactions had to be some joke or ruse at his own expense? "When will you be getting to the point of this training exercise, Sensei?" the young man asked.

"You already have all of the information necessary to know what this training exercise is and what this is for," Mariko responded, this time with more authority. "Look at the details of the situation you're in and your surroundings."

Details? What details? What could she possibly be referring to? Iwamaru's brow furrowed. She wouldn't make a statement like that lightly. She wants him to look for something. Think outside the box. Don't think of just what's there, think of what's-

Iwamaru blinked. What was missing from this picture?

He looked at the training field. The scrolls, Sensei, the target, the square drawn on the ground... everything seemed into place. The young man put his hand on his waist, perplexed.

Wait, his waist. His belt. His supplemental weapons. She'd told him to come only with his sword. She didn't want him to block those shuriken with Doton techniques. She wanted him to block it with his sword, which has the largest natural blindspots. And he had to block them all while standing in one spot.

...Ho boy.

Drawing the sword off his back, Iwamaru jammed his fingers into the stone wall with his other hand and ripped it from the ground, throwing it to the side. Mariko smiled. It seemed he understood. "Let me know when you're ready this time," she ordered.

He nodded. Holding his sword at the ready, Iwamaru braced himself for the next volley. "I'm ready, Sensei," he called.

His instinct was to tense up, but he stayed his nerves. He would need to be flexible to parry these. So this was taijutsu training then. Alright, he could-

"Oh, yeah, so you need to tell me where each of these shuriken are aiming at."

What.

He didn't have time to question the instructions, as the shuriken came flying. The shuriken were small, and though there were fewer than before, they came just as fast. The first two whizzed straight past his head and rammed themselves into the wood board behind him. The third came straight at him, and he barely had time to parry it, glancing off of his right arm and punishing him for his lack of perception with a superficial cut on his arm. The fourth and fifth shuriken swept low. Purely by reflex, he jumped in place as they flew underneath and into the ground behind him. He barely even saw them, let alone what direction they came from.

Iwamaru bristled as he realized this glaring weakness in his capabilities, the warm blood running down his arm serving as the inevitable result for failing to improve. These were coming as fast as he could throw them. Why was he so slow to react?

Mariko was unphased. "Oi! What areas on your body did all five shuriken target? And in what order did they fly at you?" she asked, amused apathy clear in her voice.

Her question pulled Iwamaru out of his stupor. He'd been so focused on coming to terms with his newfoud vulnerability that he'd momentarily forgotten about the purpose of this exercise: to shore up that weakness. "...I know the third shuriken came from twelve o'clock, targeting my chest. Other than that... I only have general targeting areas of the head and legs."

Mariko shook her head. "Nope! Let's go again."

Iwamaru readied his sword again. He tried his best to sharpen his focus. When the technique activates from the scroll, it typically produces smoke. Be ready for that, he reminded himself.

The puff of smoke came and his eyes more quicky spotted the shuriken this time. His eyes caught the first shuriken this time, coming in high at a downward angle towards the left side of his head. He shifted the blade slightly to parry the first shuriken. With a metallic ting, the metal throwing star glanced off of his blade. Much too late, however, he noted the second throwing star and just barely managed to evade it. He recalled the third star at twelve o'clock and parried that one, but he still failed to fully ascertain the direction of the last two stars, jumping over them by reflex. Iwamaru cursed inwardly. This training was not going to be easy. He wasn't nearly as quick himself as these projectiles were. He'd have to have an acute perception of what's going on on the battlefield.

"Hey, you blocked two of them this time!" Mariko noted.

"The first shuriken came down at me from ten o'clock," Iwamaru added, and she nodded.

Iwamaru readied his guard yet again. And when the puff of smoke burst into view, he was immediately on the lookout for the second and the two that kept sweeping at his feet. The second shuriken came at two o'clock, sweeping slightly upwards. The first two shuriken were parried without incident, as was the third. His eyes finally managed to catch the last two shuriken. They also came from straight forward (twelve o'clock, riding low), and the shuriken on the left was launched slightly before the one on the right. With a single strong sweep of the blade, Iwamaru deflected the last two shuriken. "Shuriken numbers three through five all came from twelve o'clock. Shuriken three shot straight for my chest. Shuriken four and five came at twelve o'clock with a slight curve, aiming for my Achilles' tendons. Shuriken one and two came from ten and two o'clock respectively, aiming for my temples."

Mariko nodded. "Alright, good job. Let's up the ante, shall we?"

Iwamaru nodded. Okay, this wasn't so bad. So long as he continued to focus, he could do this. He readied his blade and gave the signal to Mariko, who activated the scroll once more. He knew what to do. Look for the shuriken and whichever direction they were coming. He could-

His face contorted in confusion and pain as he felt something slash across his shoulder blades and warm blood began to drip down his back. There was another scroll somewhere? The realization distracted Iwamaru from tracking the other shuriken, eight in total, only dodging and parrying by reflex. At least two other shuriken zipped over his shoulders from behind. He couldn't simply rely on his eyesight. He'd have to use all of his senses to more efficiently process the information he was receiving. Wasting no time, Iwamaru called out to his teacher. "Again, Sensei!" he requested.

Mariko didn't hesitate. The puff of smoke erupted from the scroll almost immediately. Iwamaru didn't close his eyes, as they were his primary sensory tool to track and detect the shuriken. However, he also paid closer attention to his hearing to try and track any other shuriken that were coming from behind. The telltale whistle of the throwing star gliding through the air gave it away. Iwamaru pivoted towards five o'clock and brought his blade to bare with a single hand. The clang of metal hitting metal confirmed his observation. He also glanced two shuriken coming from six and seven o'clock, but they were further away than the shuriken coming at him from the front. The second shuriken swung down from two o'clock. Based on its arc, it would likely curve and swing towards ten o'clock if Iwamaru didn't parry it. He, of course, did parry it, as he did with the shuriken swinging from nine o'clock toward twelve o'clock on his left. Shuriken number four came straight from three o'clock, which was parried. Shuriken number five and six where the ones behind him. As he turned to parry them, he noticed that the shuriken at six oclock was arcing slight towards him, aiming at eleven o'clock, and the shuriken from seven o'clock was arcing more sharply, heading for four o'clock. He deflected both of these with one swing and spun into the motion, preparing to block shuriken six (coming in at twelve o'clock dead center), shuriken seven (eleven o'clock arcing down towards five o'clock), and shuriken eight (two o'clock arcing up towards seven o'clock).

Iwamaru took a breath and wiped off perspiration from the back of his neck. He was admittedly surprised at how much this training was taxing him physically. He didn't have time to focus on how much energy it would require, however. Mariko's question echoed across the field in an almost lacksidasical tone. "Alright, Iwamaru-chan," she prodded. "How many shuriken were there, what directions were their initial trajectories coming from, and which direction were they arcing towards?"

Iwamaru kept his cool. He wasn't a big fan of the honorific "chan", and he knew that Sensei was likely using it to simply throw him off his game. It wouldn't work. "There were eight shuriken in total. The first shuriken entered my effective range at five o'clock and was arcing straight towards eight o'clock. Shuriken number two came straight from two o'clock, flying downward toward ten o'clock. Shuriken number three flew in upwards from nine o'clock heading towards twelve o'clock. Shuriken number four flew at me from three o'clock with no arc. Shuriken number five came from six o'clock, arcing down towards eleven o'clock. Shuriken number six flew down from seven o'clock, arcing toward four o'clock. Shuriken number seven flew at me from eleven o'clock, arcing down to five o'clock. And shuriken number eight arced up, from two o'clock toward seven o'clock."

Mariko clapped. "Excellent. You're about half-way done with this training. Let's make things a little more difficult," she foreshadowed.

Iwamaru's stomach dropped ever so slightly. Why did those words concern him so much?

Mariko closed the scroll she was currently using and set it aside before lugging over another scroll of equal size in front of her. "Alright, so this one's gonna be trickier. I'm going to fire a stream of weapons non-stop for five seconds. You have to tell me how many weapons get sent out. Okay? Okay, let's go!"

Iwamaru groaned internally. When she didn't wait for an answer, it meant she knew he was about to hate what came next. And, of course, because she would find his subsequent frustration hilarious.

The poof of smoke came, and a literal tornado of weapons of all different sizes and shapes came at him. Or it might as well have been, considering that Iwamaru was immediately getting ready to block the incoming wave of projectiles. His eyes strained to try and pick out all of the weapons but he was so busy trying to parry the ones that came at him that he couldn't keep track of them all.

One.

Iwamaru continued to parry as many weapons as he could, but there were too many. Some slipped through his guard but missed him completely. Others just grazed him. New cuts appeared on his left ankle and right forearm as a kunai and a shuriken got a bit too close for comfort.

Two.

An unfortunate senbon lodged itself into his hand. Though he struggled to do so, Iwamaru fought through the pain and continued to parry the weapons with one hand.

Three.

The boy dropped to one knee continuing to parry and deflect everything he could, trying to lower his profile. This worked, but it brought him no closer to his goal.

Four.

One massive fuma shuriken erupted from the cloud of smoke. Iwamaru swung at it with all of his might, deflecting the shuriken off to the side with a crash.

Five.

The dust settled and Iwamaru took a moment to catch his breath. His body screamed at him as he braced himself and took out the senbon needle that had so impolitely imposed itself upon the back of his right hand. Shaking it, Iwamaru fought through the pain as he surveyed, his surroundings. The board behind him was covered with weapons, as was the ground around him. Mariko saw Iwamaru's confusion, but she said nothing. He'd have to figure this out on his own. "Do you have an answer for me, or do we need to go again?"

He was indeed confused... but not because he felt hopeless. No, on the contrary. He noticed something he hadn't during the jutsu's execution. Though he couldn't be entirely certain yet...

There were more weapons here than had been thrown from the scroll. There was another technique at work here.

Iwamaru stood and readied his blade. But right before he called for Mariko to use the technique again, he looked at his blade. This... In the previous exercises, it was aiding him. But he had to use it more carefully, or it would be a detriment. Focusing on maintaining his guard and counting the projectiles was a bit too much at his current level. How could he improve his ability to process this information?

Dropping his sword arm, Iwamaru let the blade hang loosely in his hand. He also turned his body sideways, his shoulders perpendicular with the large wooden board behind him. "Let's go again, Sensei," Iwamaru called.

Mariko grinned. Slowly, but surely, he's starting to get it, she thought to herself as she made the needed seals.

The poof of smoke came, and the twister of deadly metal spiraled towards him. Iwamaru loosened his body up and focused only on dodging the weapons that were within range of hitting him. Leaning his body back and forth, he'd weave to and fro, his eyes scanning the area in front of him. Waiting for the weapons to get close before counting them would be too late. Instead, his eyes scanned them while they were still a ways out. He found he was able to count them. Twelve, twenty-four, fifty, seventy-five, one-hundred... It went on this way for the whole five seconds. The fuma shuriken flew at him again at the last second, which he deflected more easily with his blade this time around. Mariko waited for the dust to settle before posing her question again. "Alright, how many weapons did I launch at you?"

Iwamaru exhaled deeply. "I counted two-hundred fifty-seven, including the fuma shuriken." Iwamaru was confident in his response this time. What's next, I wonder?, he thought to himself, already focusing on the next exercise.

His expectations were about to be subverted. "EEEEEHHH! Wrong! You weren't even close!" Iwamaru's confusion showed on his face. "Look around you. Does it only look like two hundred weapons there around you?"

Iwamaru scanned his surroundings. She was right. Even with his most conservative estimate, there were more than double that number of weapons, and the tests from before would only account for a handful of those. He was missing something. He turned to his sensei. "Well, that means I need to try again, then," he admitted.

Mariko shook her head, sweat beading on her brow. Casting this technique so many times was taking its toll on her as well. "Try to finish this up in the next couple of tries. I'm dying for a bath, and I don't wanna wait much longer," she yawned as she weaved the seals for the technique again.

Iwamaru took the same stance again. Relaxing his body and focusing his mind and eyes, he waited for the poof of smoke. It came, and his eyes scanned more closely. As he peered closer, he noticed something he hadn't before. The jutsu being used here wasn't merely a storage release technique. There was another technique being incorporated here into the scroll. Within the shadow of a shuriken passing by, he noticed something else: a senbon needle. It was hiding in the shadow of each and every single shuriken and kunai that flew by. No wonder Mariko sensei had said he'd been off. That would increase the number of weapons being thrown at him by over fifty percent!

With this knowledge, Iwamaru made sure to search for weapons hiding in the shadows of other weapons. The time ticked down.

One... Two... Three... Four...

The fuma-shuriken came as always, but Iwamaru noticed its flight path was slightly different. He looked closer. Ten senbon, all aimed for his legs were clustered under the shadow of the large weapon. Jumping up on the shuriken, Iwamaru kicked down hard, sending the weapon and the needles underneath skidding into the ground beneath him and crashing into the now thoroughly "decorated" board behind him.

"Four-hundred and seventy-six... Including the needles under that fuma shuriken, Sensei," he replied.

Mariko nodded. "Alright, alright, not bad. Don't get too full of it just yet, though. We still have one more test," the woman cautioned.

Iwamaru nodded. "I'm ready, Sensei," he assured.

"In this last test, I want you to tell me both the number of weapons that are being fired at you, but I also want you to tell me how many of each weapon you had to parry. Understood?" she ordered, her green eyes indicating she wasn't expecting him to get this on the first try.

Iwamaru nodded again. "Understood, Sensei."

Mariko weaved the hand seals, and the poof of smoke came. But what came next was not the tornado of weapons that he was expecting. Instead, a large single stream of dark steel flew toward him. He had just enough time to bring up his sword to guard, both hands clasped on the hilt of the weapon. With a thunderous roar, Iwamaru's strength was pitted against the constant stream of weapons he was blocking. The young man gritted his teeth, as he had to put all his strength into maintaining his defenses against the wave of projectiles. Even as they clashed against his blade Iwamaru began to count.

One.

Blood continued to spurt from the cuts that he'd already accrued from the other parts of this training exercise. He ignored the pain that accompanied the natural tension of his muscles under the strain. As the first shuriken had clashed against his guard, he'd seen a senbon deflect off of his blade at the same time. Just like before, there were senbon under each and every one of the shuriken and kunai that were being thrown at him. He'd had to account for those in his calculations realtime.

Two.

His eyes continued to shift and strain as he attempted to keep track of all of the projectiles both en route to his blade and those already clashing against it. Not able to afford any sort of finesse to his defense lest he lose track of the weapon count in his head, some of the projectiles, despite having been parried, still caused injury. One kunai slipped and jammed itself into his thigh. Another shuriken nicked the side of his forehead. A senbon lodged itself neatly in the steel toe of his left boot. Still, he didn't let his focus drop.

Three.

Iwamaru's eyes eventually traced all the way up towards the end of the string of weapons erupting from the smoke. From the massive cloud, he saw the end-game: the large fuma shuriken curving towards him, dead center. Underneath, he saw another ten senbon needles as before. He'd have to plan quickly. If he didn't choose correctly, he'd be meeting those senbon personally very soon.

Four.

Jumping back Iwamaru continued to defend. All of the weapons that would come out of the scroll were already in transit. Grabbing one of the other fuma shuriken, Iwamaru swung it in front of him at the last second, deflecting both the fuma shuriken and the senbon that lay waiting in its shadow. Bracing his shoulder against it, the impact of the heavy weapon caused him to slide back towards the large wooden board which had now become a hazard in its own right, shuriken and senbon all still ready to pierce and cut anyone foolish enough to get close.

Five.

He finally stopped, his back a mere foot away from the board as the large shuriken dropped to the ground, his kinetic energy spent. Walking out in front of the large weapon he'd used as a shield, he sat down on the ground, catching his breath. Mariko, her chakra also expended, walked up as she took a swig of water from her canteen. "Well?" she asked.

Breathing deeply a few times, he took a few moments to respond. "Five hundred... seventeen... including the ten senbon you hid under the last fuma shuriken," Iwamaru replied. "So that's one hundred twenty shuriken, one hundred twenty kunai, two hundred seventy-six senbon... and one fuma shuriken."

Mariko smiled as she sat down next to him, ruffling his hair. "Well, look at you! And here I was worried for a second that you might not get the hang of it as quickly as you did your other training. Doesn't that show you what a great teacher I am?" she asked coyly, her sarcasm written clearly all over her face.

Iwamaru chuckled mirthlessly. "If you call having me place my life in peril each time I train with you 'teaching,' then yeah, sure," he jabbeb back, pulling the senbon out of his boot and the kunai out of his leg, wincing slightly at the second.

Mariko socked the young man in the shoulder, laughing. "Hey, no talk-back, or I'll make you do clean up yourself."

Rubbing his now considerably sore shoulder, he nodded or chuckled. "Understood, Sensei."
Last edited by ShinobiTruth on Thu May 30, 2019 1:22 am, edited 17 times in total.

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Tate Iwamaru - Training Thread

Post by ShinobiTruth » Fri May 24, 2019 10:10 pm

Control Training, 5 points: 5074/5000

For once in recent weeks, Mariko-sensei was too busy to attend to Iwamaru's training personally. He was ecstatic when he was instructed to go to the training field alone today. His excitement was so palpable that it had almost dwarfed the utter embarrassment of seeing his teacher, physically blessed as she was, come to the door in literally her undergarments and a robe. As he rounded the corner from her apartment, he bolted towards the training field, both elated that he had this time to himself and desperate to get his mind and body on something other than his jounin sensei's admittedly ravishing form.

Iwamaru was used to elaborate set-ups during his training sessions. Therefore, his surprise was nothing unexpected when he came to the training field to find only five metal balls sitting in cupped wooden pedestals. On the central pedestal there was a single note pinned do it with a kunai that read simply:

"Make all five metal balls float and spin in circles."

Iwamaru was still confused after reading the note. There had to be a catch to this. There was no way Mariko-sensei would assign him such a mundane style of training without some sort of roadblock or strict condition. Iwamaru picked up one of the balls, giving a very thorough examination. Physically, the ball was nothing spectacular. Other than perforations along the surface of the material, there was nothing else visibly noteworthy about it that would give Iwamaru a clue as to how it was different from any other steel orb.

Setting the ball down Iwamaru sat with his legs crossed at the designated spot on the ground, a crudely drawn X marking the spot. Iwamaru closed his eyes, as he was want to do when focusing intently on the flow of chakra during his training. Reaching out with his chakra, he moved it towards the wooden post furthest to the left and was surprised to feel his chakra suddenly envelop the post itself. It seemed that there was some sort of chakra-conductive steel rod inside the post. Iwamaru immediately cut the flow of chakra. Well, there's one roadblock already, Iwamaru realized. If he sent his chakra towards that rod again without being careful, he would very quickly run out of chakra. Though he had considerable chakra pools, even his stamina wouldn't last long with one of them, let alone five. He'd have to control his chakra much more carefully than he was used to. There had to be a secret to channeling his chakra into the large steel rods within the wooden pedestals.

Closing his eyes again, Iwamaru pushed his chakra outward, just as before, but much more carefully, stopping just before connecting with the base of the steel rod. Pushing his chakra up against the base of the rod, he gently poked and prodded, trying to find any irregularities within the beam itself. Though it took some time, eventually he found it: a single channel, traveling a bit deeper into the rod that seemed to progress upward. Controlling his chakra carefully, he pushed his chakra into the channel, following it upward as his chakra ascended higher and higher. Eventually, his chakra reached the top and planed out. Instead of the entire pedestal lighting up with his chakra, a small beam of chakra appeared beneath the steel ball. Iwamaru smiled. There was step one finished.

Using the same principles he applied to the pedestal, Iwamaru further pushed his chakra into the steel ball, but he found this much harder to do than the pedestal. Though there were channels in the ball he could follow as well, there were more than one, and the vast majority of them led to vents that channeled his chakra out of the ball, wasting it. This was evident by the sound of rushing air and spurts of light blue chakra popping out all over the ball. Iwamaru drew his chakra back to the pedestal so as to avoid trying to brute force the correct path. Instead, he further tightened his chakra control and sent a single tendril of chakra into the ball, a significantly difficult task for Iwamaru. Thankfully, the amount of chakra he lost was minimal due to the tiny levels of chakra required for this particular task, but it still took him several minutes of focusing on his chakra to finally get the single vein of chakra into a stable channel at the bottom of the steel ball.

With the same pace, Iwamaru started pushing his chakra further into the steel orb, carefully exploring the tiny channels etched into the inside of the training sphere. There were still blowouts of tiny amounts of chakra here and there, but not as many as before. Despite this, the pace was grueling, to say the least. It was literally like solving a maze, but his chakra was the medium instead of his body. Whoever made this orb literally had to have spent hours, if not days, simply etching the intricate trenches into the chakra-conductive material. Iwamaru had been at the exercise for naught but ten minutes, and he already had a few beads of sweat forming on his brow.

Eventually, he felt his chakra channel into an empty spot in the center of the orb. Slowly but surely, the empty space filled, and he felt the orb become an extension of his own chakra. Pushing just a little harder, the orb slowly began to levitate off the pedestal by a few centimeters. Iwamaru continued to gently push and stress his chakra further, until the orb was floating shakily about a foot above the basin built into the pedestal. Most would be satisified with that result, but for Iwamaru, that wasn't enough. The earth was not unstable. It was a solid foundation, one upon which the entirety of humankind had been forged. He would not allow himself to be fickle in his control of it. Iwamaru continued to refine his control of his chakra, working to stop the shaking. Eventually, the trembling stopped. Holding his chakra steady for a solid minute, making sure he could properly control it, he slowly started twisting the chakra in the center of the orb, where it was the most condensed and plentiful. The progress was just as deliberate and paced as the rest of his training had been thus far. The rotations began at a snail's pace to start; over the next five minutes, the spin was about three revolutions a second. He decided to maintain that speed.

Satisfied that he had completed the first part of the training, Iwamaru created another branch off his chakra and reached out to the second pedestal. He slowly began to prod the bottom of that rod and found his chakra being sucked in from the middle. He quickly cut off his chakra from the pedestal to avoid losing more chakra and disrupting his focus on the first pedestal. It almost felt like... there was a hole in the pedestal, designed as a chakra sink to force chakra into it. It seemed that each pole was different in its constructions and obstacles that it presented to using it correctly. Iwamaru decided to change his tactics. Forming his chakra into a ring, connected by a few connected threads of chakra. He formed this ring to match the parameters of the rod before carefully pushing it up against the bottom of the pedestal. Much to his relief, that same draining feeling was notably absent. Using the ring as a base, Iwamaru poked and prodded, looking for the channels just like the previous rod. He eventually found it, the trench even narrower than on the last beam. Focusing intently on his chakra, he slowly pushed his chakra through the channels. Iwamaru noticed that there were even more twists and turns in this beam, and instead of sharp corners and straight lines, this conductive steel rod incorporated curves and zigzags into the etchings that had been made on its surface. After several minutes, Iwamaru reached the top. It took him nearly a time and a half to reach the top of this particular pedestal, but he felt that he was getting better with controlling his chakra so deliberately than before. The center of the bowl on the pedestal glowed, indicating his success. Not wasting any time, Iwamaru extended his chakra carefully towards the base of the orb.

Imagine his surprise when he didn't feel any channels on the bottom for his chakra to enter into. Now curious, Iwamaru traced the surface of the orb with his chakra for a brief moment. He couldn't afford to do it any longer; too much time on that would cost precious chakra. Based on the "feel" of the object, he realized that much like the steel rods, this orb had a channel traveling along the outside of the sphere, with the port of entry being located on the top of the training tool. Not quite understanding the purpose, Iwamaru nonetheless pushed his chakra through the channel. In his haste, he stretched the thread of chakra he was controlling and it snapped, bursting into the air. It was at that point that Iwamaru realized the premise was simple. Pushing too fast through the channel would disrupt the connection and cause it to collapse. With this new found information, the genin restarted his task, pushing the thread along the surface of the orb through the etched channels until he reached the top. With a deliberate pace, his chakra entered the entry port at the top of the sphere.

Much like the pedestal before it, Iwamaru was not surprised to find that this included both more intricate chakra channels on the inside and more chakra vents, making his task all the more difficult. This orb took longer than the other orb, as he had to continue doubling back and retracing his steps. Though not as numerous as the beginning of the first orb, a handful of spurts of chakra still escaped through the vents, an obvious sign of the mistakes Iwamaru was making while trying to find the center of the training globe. Eventually, nearly ten minutes later, he found the central cavity and, in like fashion to the first orb, slowly filled it with his chakra. Concentrating more intensely this time, the orb lifted smoothly off the pedestal, and it was only a minute or so after before Iwamaru got the orb spinning at the velocity he desired.

Iwamaru started forming a third branch of chakra to continue the exercise, but as he did so, he felt the control he had on the second orb begin to falter, the levitating metal ball beginning to shake and bob up and down. Iwamaru worked to steady the second orb once more and return it to its previous speed before turning his attention to the third pedestal. Iwamaru's neck strained from the exertion while slowly forming the foundations of the third chakra branch at a speed that watching paint dry would contest for being more expedient. Sweat now thoroughly drenched his back, the entire meditative activity becoming increasingly draining to the genin. After a grueling ten minutes, the chakra was almost to the bottom of the pedestal, but Iwamaru retracted the chakra slowly back into himself. He wanted to make sure that he could form additional branches more readily than that. He started again, pushing himself a little harder this time to faster. He would repeat this again for the next twenty minutes until he was certain he could smoothly make a third branch comfortably. The third branch reached out to the bottom of the pedestal, and it was there that he found the next challenge in this training program.

There were two channels carved into the bottom of this steel chakra rod. Considering how things were going thus far, he suspected he would have to channel chakra up both sides of the beam before he could get to the orb. Focusing intently on the edges of his chakra, two thin streams of energy began to fill the channels and slowly but surely crawl up the side of the steel. Despite his progress, this exercise continued to challenge him in surprising and very informative ways. About halfway up the beam, the two channels crossed, and as his chakra streams crossed and merged, the chakra began to bleed and be absorbed into the steel. Not good. Drawing the two streams back, he thinned them down for a moment just as they were crossing over before allowing them to fill out the channel again, carefully controlling the flow of his chakra as he continued to fill out the etchings on the pedestal. As he encountered sections where the etching looped in on itself, creating artificial intersections, he used the same principle he learned with the first intersections to continue inching towards the top of the pedestal.

Finally, his miniscule chakra streams cleared the top lip of the pedestal and rushed toward the center. Iwamaru was surprised to find that, much like the center of the orbs, this pedestal had a large dip in the middle where chakra could coalesce. This one, however, was split down the middle, half the pool for each side. Iwamaru carefully poured chakra into one side, right until it reached the very top of the divider without pooling over. He repeated the same step for the other side, and the center of the pedestal activated.

This new configuration posed another challenge. Instead of a single stream of chakra reaching up to the training sphere, Iwamaru would have to keep the streams split as they reached up into the etched channels above them. The practice he'd had with making the multiple larger chakra branches had helped him with some of the needed skills, but he had not done quite the same on such a small scale, requiring further control. The journey for his little chakra streams from the bottom of the orb to the entry ports he eventually discovered on each side of the training sphere was long and arduous, yet they persevered and entered into the catacomb that was the steel insides of the object. Inside, the layout of the paths to follow were even more complex than coming up the pedestal, crossing over each other multiple times. Iwamaru's body was starting to tremble ever so slightly from the immense physical toll the focusing and stressing of his chakra control was taking out on him. Once he reached the center of the orb, Iwamaru had to fill each side of the center up at the exact same time, as when he tried to fill them unevenly, the metal punished his foolishness with sapping more chakra from him. Eventually, he figured out the trick, and the sphere rose triumphantly into the air. Getting the orb to spin was a simple task now, requiring only thirty seconds of his time before it was rotating in sync with the other two orbs.

Iwamaru braced himself as he reached this point. It had already been difficult to make a third chakra branch to pass the halfway mark of this challenge. How was he going to make a fourth or fifth? Very slowly, Iwamaru started slowly building up spare chakra and attempted to extend it out towards the fourth pedestal-

Iwamaru's body started to rack with an intense pain. Ow, ow, ow, no, okay, that's not gonna work. Only now did he realize that to try and pump out more chakra at this point would likely cause him injury. For a moment, he wasn't certain if he had a solution to this issue. If he was already using all of his chakra for this task, should he simply focus on more precisely controlling the other orbs? No, that didn't seem right. Mariko-sensei's note had ordered him to lift all five orbs. She would not have given him such training if she wasn't fully confident in his ablities to complete it. Frustration spurned scrutiny of his current methods. Perhaps there was a way to make his current level of chakra control more efficient?

Focusing on the first branch, Iwamaru compared the size of the chakra branch he was looping through the pedestal and the orb. He knew that he would have to adjust his chakra control carefully to avoid completely losing all of that chakra to the voracious appetite of the metal. Whilst thinning the width of the main chakra branch, he increased the speed of the flow of chakra through the pedestal and orb. At first the orb wavered and bobbed down a few inches, but he managed to gradually shrink the main chakra branch all the way down to less than a quarter of the size it was before. After holding his chakra like so for five minutes to make sure he could successfully sustain it, Iwamaru moved on to the second branch.

As expected, making the second chakra branch extending from his body flow in a similar manner to the first would prove more difficult. The more intricate the pattern of chakra flowing through the orb, the less tolerance it had for even gradual changes in chakra flow. Even more slowly than the first, Iwamaru gently throttled the amount of chakra going into the connection back while increasing the speed the remaining chakra was flowing to sustain the movement of the ball over the bowl on top of the pedestal. The second ball dropped half way towards the basin, and the spinning slowed by nearly seventy-five percent. Restoring the orb to its previous height and velocity took another two minutes.

Iwamaru tensed as he moved on to the third. He wasn't certain if the orb would fall back into the basin and if he'd have to rethread his chakra through it if he wasn't careful. Just as he was ready to begin the incremental process, a novel thought shot through his mind: what if the fact he was doing it so slowly was a detriment instead of a benefit? It was a lot to risk. The completion of his training today could easily reside on this decision. But he had to try. Iwamaru braced himself and quickly choked the chakra input while simultaneously speeding up its circulation through the third branch. Though the orb did visibly dip, it quickly returned to its original stability and rotation speed without much issue. That breakthrough was important. He was confident he could finish the rest of the exercise, not barring any extrenuating circumstances.

Making a fourth chakra branch, Iwamaru reached out towards the bottom of the fourth pedestal. He would do a ring connected by thin streams of chakra instead, looking to avoid falling into any pitfalls in the steel that might cost him more chakra. Iwamaru was not surprised to find that there were not two, but three seperate chakra veins that had been etched into the surface of this pillar. As he traveled up the base of the pedestal, though, he did find it odd that the paths never seemed to cross over each other, even as the sweeping lines and zigzags became more prominent. Instead, the same chakra threads wove a glowing picture on the surface of the metal, twisting and folding over itself numerous times. Iwamaru took his sweet time, his entire body drenched in sweat from exhaustion. It took Iwamaru ten minutes just to finish successfully navigating the channels fashioned like pictures before he passed even the half-way mark of the fourth pedestal. As his three streams traveled up further, they encountered another set of pictures. Iwamaru's clasped hands began to quiver and shake, his energy levels beginning to drop dangerously low. The second set of pictures etched into the metal were even more intricate and detailed than the last, and the fourth pillar had, by far, taken the longest for his chakra to successfully navigate to the top at an astounding twenty minutes time.

Iwamaru pushed forth with the exercise, reaching up to the orb with three seperate thin chakra streams. As with the second and third training spheres, lengthy intricate patterns were imbedded on the surface of these orbs, which Iwamaru had to trace to find the entry ports to the insides of the orb. Considering his worsening fatigue, this task took about five minutes of his time, small bursts of chakra erupting from the surface of the orb as his lack of energy produced mistakes. His stomach began to feel disturbed, and he swallowed hard as the acids in his gut were upset. Eventually, the three streams each found their entry points. One was at the top of the orb, the second was at the eight o'clock position on the sphere, and the third was at the four o'clock section of the ball.

Iwamaru set to exploring the tiny tunnels etched into the steel, expecting chakra blowout but finding none. As a matter of fact, other than the fact that the center, which he found quickly, had three portions to fill instead of two, nothing seemed remarkable about this orb. Despite filling the center of the orb, however, the sphere wouldn't budge. Iwamaru was confused. Why wasn't it moving? His frustration with this exercise was mounting. Screw it. He was going to fill every single pathway with chakra and then try to lift the hunk of metal up into the air. It would not be until a few minutes later that the pathways would be filled and that Iwamaru would discover that frustration could serve as a powerful source of invention. Due to his lack of energy, the fourth orb floated up at a snails pace, wobbling violently too and fro until eventually becoming still. Then he began to spin the orb, which he found much harder to do than before; having to rotate the orby by pushing against the walls of every nook and cranny in the orb was much more taxing than an already spent Iwamaru had expected. After about five minutes, he got that orb spinning like the rest.

Iwamaru eyed the fifth pedestal with a searing gaze born of fatigue and frustration. His lack of energy made him weary of this final hurdle. Was he certain he could pull this off? Was he willing to pass out to make this happen? Part of him frankly thought that coming back to finish later would be the more prudent choice. Foolishly standing ground in the face of certain death would result in unnecessary losses. And yet... he realized he could not give up here. There may come a time where he'd be called to make the ultimate sacrifice. Death was a constant companion on the path he'd chosen, and before he surrendered itself to its familiar, cold embrace, he would have to eek out every last ounce of strength and power he could to protect those under his charge. Surrendering here was not an option.

Breathing deeply and exhaling, Iwamaru stretched his chakra further, making a fifth and final branch to reach out to the bottom of the pedestal. As he'd expected, when he felt the chakra ring connect, multiple paths up the side of the chakra rod were found. What confused him, however, was that he felt paths etched into the bottom of the pedestal as well. Slowly pushing his chakra into the pathways at the bottom of the pedestal, Iwamaru soon found that there were a number of dead ends, all leading into chakra sink divots carved out of the bottoms of the pedestals. Iwamaru would have to fill all of the connected pathways at the bottom before continuing up the sides. Slowly, he pushed through the exhaustion as he felt each channel fill up with the precious chakra he had left to give. Eventually, after several minutes of struggling, he managed to fill in all of the connected channels at the bottom of the steel pillar. With that squared away, Iwamaru pushed his chakra into the four pathways up the sides of the pillar. If Iwamaru had found himself strained by the last four pillars, this fifth pillar would be an absolute nightmare in his eyes. There was no discernible pattern to how and when the paths intersected or separated, colliding, crossing, and parting ways in a spastic sequence. The going was gut-wrenching in its sloth; the pit in Iwamaru's stomach deepened as he continued to stretch his control of his own chakra both to his limit and past it.

About halfway up the sides of the pedestal, Iwamaru's head exploded with pain. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel his vision get blurry. Gritting through the pain, Iwamaru pushed onward, forming his chakra to fit the contours of the grooves in the metal. The going was even slower now due to the physical discomfort he had to fight through. Despite this, after a solid fifteen minutes, the tiny chakra streams managed to reach the top of the pedestal. The four pools of chakra filled up in the center, and the center of the basin lit up.

As he reached this important goal post, his entire body convulsed, and he had to put all of his willpower into retaining his chakra control as he involuntarily evacuated the contents of his stomach. Heaving, he squeezed his eyes shut. He knew that if he didn't hold on with all he had, he'd lose all of his progress. Getting it back today would be impossible. A fire burned in his chest, even more than the stomach acids burning the inside of his throat, and his chakra tendrils quickly took to navigating their way to the inside of the orb. An intense focus had taken over Iwamaru's facilities, and his refusal to cave was powering him forward. That focus was vital, as the surface of this particular orb was immensely more complex, even moreso than the other orbs combined. There were four different entry points for the chakra to enter into the inside of the orb, but the surface of that orb was so intricately chiseled that the winding paths his chakra had to travel felt like mazes within mazes. Iwamaru was past the point of sweat; he was so spent that heat could almost be seen radiating off of his body. This was arguably the first time he'd ever pushed himself to his absolute limits in regards to his chakra reserves, and he certainly didn't want to again anytime soon.

After a while, Iwamaru reached the inside of the orb with all four tendrils, located at twelve o'clock, three o'clock, six o'clock, and nine o'clock on the orb. After the maze on the outside, there was another veritable maze on the inside of the orb. The zigzags, twists, circles and straight drops inside the orb was like nothing else that he could have expected based on the previous spheres. The muscles on his neck strained and bulged from the exertion as the chakra flowed through the channels inside of the orb. Slowly, bit by bit, each of the multitudinous channels inside the metal ball began to fill with chakra. The minutes dragged on as Iwamaru made consistent, if not agnoizingly slow progress. It took a full fifteen minutes to fill two-thirds of the orb's channels.

Another complication arose as Iwamaru's head began to spin. Iwamaru was forced to pause as he breathed in and out, deeply, for several minutes. Waiting for the sense of vertigo to vanish before he resumed, Iwamaru pushed through the last set of channels before filling the core of the sphere with his chakra. Iwamaru attempted to lift the final orb with his chakra.

Nothing.

Was it because he was tired? He tried again, focusing more intently focusing on the fifth sphere, pouring all of his will into lift that stupid metal ball off of the god-forsaken basin that it sat in.

Nope. Zilch. Nada. Zero.

Iwamaru traced his chakra lines in his mind. The orb was completely filled. He'd successfully filed every channel on the outside of the orb and the sides and top of the pedestal. What was possibly missing? He continued to search for an answer that eluded... until he finally realized that the answer in question was staring him in the face.

The bottom. The chakra sinks were not chakra sinks at all. They were merely deep chakra pits drilled into the metal. Their depth into the metal had confused Iwamaru into thinking that they were merely chakra sinks. From a training standpoint, that was immensely clever, but Iwamaru was far too strained and too tired to fully appreciate that observation at this point. He wanted this done, and he wanted it done now.

One at a time, the chakra pits were filled. Iwamaru was working on fumes at this point. If he pushed himself too much further, he would actually injure himself. Each pool being filled was an agonizing chore, a test to see how far he could stretch himself without killing himself. His entire body screamed at him, drenched in sweat and sore all over, despite not having moved a muscle in so long. A growl ripped from his throat as he pushed onward. After five mind-numbing minutes, the last of the deep pits carved into the bottom of the pedestal was finally filled.

Iwamaru paused. This was it. All he had to do was lift this stupid ball and his training would be done. Yet, he'd never had so much trouble lifting the orb before. Hopefully, he'd been thorough enough and hadn't glossed over some minute detail that would vex his tired soul even further. With trepidation, he imposed his chakra against the orb.

This orb certainly was heavier than the others, but with effort, he managed to bring the orb to float along with the rest. He then forced his chakra to push against the orb, both inside and out, trying to make it rotate. It resisted his will. He pushed even harder. Slowly but surely, it started to move. Slowly it span, going incrementally faster every minute. Harder and harder, he pushed to rotate the orb even faster. The orb eventually began to rotate at one spin per second. That still wasn't enough, though. His heart pounded in his head as he exerted himself against the training tool even further. His entire body began to shake against the strain as finally, at long last, the pace matched that of the other four orbs. All five orbs, perfectly still, perfectly level with each other, spinning at the same speed. He held the formation for a minute longer before he simply no longer could. All five orbs dropped into their respective basins with a resounding clang, and Iwamaru fell back. The cool air felt refreshing against his hot, expended skin. He closed his eyes and fell asleep on the spot. After all of that work, he deserved a good rest.

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Tate Iwamaru - Training Thread

Post by ShinobiTruth » Sun Jun 02, 2019 7:09 pm

Strength Training - 10 Points: 10,113/10,000 Words

Daily Training Snapshots: Day One - Back

Iwamaru had found himself an isolated area in the village to begin his special strength training, centering on one isolated, half-crumbling apartment building. He was taking a book out of Mariko-sensei's book and attempting an unusual form of training this time around. Previously, he would have simply gone to any of the numerous training fields he'd been too before, but that had been before the fire was lit under him. He had a definitive goal to reach, for the first time possibly ever. There was no way he could resort to the same strength training methods he'd used before and achieve the physical might he'd need to prove worthy as a member of the Jousai. He had to up the ante if he wanted to reach that goal.

Wearing only a tank-top and jogging pants, he wrapped his hands and the bottoms of his feet, eyeing a protruding piece of rebar poking out from a shattered slab of concrete that used to be a wall about four stories up. The stairs to this building were demolished, meaning climbing up the easy way was out of the question. Somehow, he found himself thankful to his insane teacher. Her insisting he climb that cliff-face had prepared him for the task ahead.

With his current strength, he'd no longer need to use chakra to adhere to the wall. Digging his fingers into the stone, the concrete gave way under his strength as he started the climb. His fingers reached up and slammed into the stone, his fingertips now well worn enough to not flinch under the pressure. Clenching tightly with his left hand, Iwamaru dug his toes into the cement to make himself a foothold. He then did the same with his right hand and right foot, and just like that, he was off.

Ten Feet.

The climb, while a bit slower than he had hoped, was still going smoothly. He wasn't even at the point of breaking a sweat as he reached the one story mark. A massive hole in the wall abruptly halted his progress. He'd planned this route, as climbing horizontally would work a greater variety of muscle groups in his back. Reaching far out to the left, the fingers on his hand jammed into the concrete, bits of rock and dust falling to the ground. Reaching over with his right hand, he did the same, gouging the concrete to make another handhold before clenching tightly. Supporting his weight with both hands, Iwamaru put his right foot in the foothold he'd created with his left foot just a few moments before. He then jammed his left foot into the concrete and made a new foothold before making a new foot hold for his right foot in like fashion. This vertical crab walk would continue as he made his way roughly three meters to his left, where there was a straight path up to the fourth story. Reach up with his left hand, he resumed his climb.

Forty Feet.

Reaching the height where his exercise was to take place, Iwamaru started moving himself to the right on the wall. He would make it about roughly ten feet until he ran out of concrete, only a single thick piece of rebar extending out another fifteen feet into the air. Below was a four story drop where shattered contrete and twisted, rusted steel lay forgotten in a proverbial open grave. Bracing himself for the additional strain on his back, Iwamaru moved his right hand onto the rebar first, allowing his right leg to swing out into the air. Keeping himself hoisted up, his chin above the bar, Iwamaru brought his left hand to the rebar as well, which visibly shook under his weight but held. Inching himself over closer to the end of the rebar, Iwamaru spent the next two minutes getting to his target destination, the middle of that long steel bar. Had he gone all the way to the edge, his weight on the bar would have made the bar bend, thus ruining his form and the entire premise of the exercise.

Spreading his hands out further and adjusting his weight, he began with his pull-ups.

One... Two...

He still had plenty of energy left, but lasting improvements in strength required appropriate muscle control. Besides, going fast with the pull-ups would make the rebar wobble and potentially snap... and he neither relished the idea of falling that distance nor coming face-to-face with what awaited him at that tentative destination.

Three... Four...

Iwamaru decided to make things a little more difficult for him. Keeping himself hoisted, Iwamaru twisted his left wrist and grabbed the other side of the rebar. Holding his weight with that one arm, Iwamaru let go with this right hand slowly swung himself down and under the rebar, clasping his right hand back onto the rebar when he was on the other side. This, once again, he did slowly, both to add intensity to the exercise as well as to avoid an untimely death. What was a shinobi training without a bit of risk, though?

Ten... Eleven...

He was almost halfway through this exercise. Part of him wanted to burst with rapidly executed reps, but he remained patient, remembering his ultimate goal. There was no point in proving himself worthy of the Jousai if he did a sloppy job or rushed things. Between every two reps, he switched sides of the rebar to add to the difficulty. A fire was lit within him, one that burned brightly ever since he'd met Tatsuo. He would kindle that flame and build it into a raging blaze.

Sixteen... Seventeen... Eighteen... Nineteen... Twenty!

Swinging his body back and forth one the rebar, Iwamaru kept going until he built up enough momentum to swing himself up and off of the rebar onto a slab of concrete which still held to the building about twenty feet away. From there, he'd climb down the wall and proceed to the next part of his first day's exercises. He had a long way to go, but death would come before failure, and he'd promised himself he wouldn't fail.
Daily Training Snapshots: Day Four - Legs

Okay, so maybe there were some exercises where having standardized equipment would help, but Iwamaru wasn't one to simply concede to problems in front of him. He was a bit of a problem solver, if not a bit of a crude one. Thus, when Iwamaru needed some sort of weight to do leg presses, he improvised. Taking two large chunks of concrete, he found himself a straight, sturdy piece of rebar amongst the rubble and quite literally slammed the two pieces of concrete onto the ends of his makeshift handle before bending the rebar at the ends. The tips were rusty and soft, but the concrete held to the bar without wiggling or moving too much.

The location of his next exercise would be on the second floor of this destroyed building, for which Iwamaru had assembled a staircase equal in crudeness to his weight he'd just assembled just a few minutes prior. Slinging the bar over his shoulders and keeping his back straight, Iwamaru stood in front of the first step and, in a lunge-like fashion, placed his left foot on the first step.

Thud.

His wrapped foot resounded soundly against the concrete, along with the gentle creaking of old steel, as the steps had been secured with scavenged rebar as well. Focusing on the muscles in his legs, Iwamaru exhaled. It was easy to do an exercise with this by triggering his back muscles, which he was hoping to avoid. Flexing his left glute and hamstring, Iwamaru lifted himself up and swung his right foot up and through to land on the second step.

Thud.

Okay, so far, so good. This step was wider than the first step, so securing a foothold had been no issue whatsoever. There were about four more steps to go after this one, and while he wished he could simply jog up the steps to get to the top, the weight on his shoulders was still too considerable to do that at his current level. He'd try it once he got stronger, though. That would be a great benchmark to reach. Flexing his right glute and hamstring, he repeated the same step as before, swinging his left foot under and up onto the next step.

Thud.

He normally trained in isolation. He'd never really had a training partner before. The thought that he might have one if he were accepted to work for the Jousai excited him. He'd almost taken the offer to use their training equipment, but he politely declined. It didn't feel right to use something he'd not earned... or at least that he hadn't earned in his eyes. No such refilling missions had popped up at the office since he'd last been. He would keep watch like a hawk for them. Flexing his left leg, he pushed up, bearing the entire weight of his body and the weight as he swung his right leg up to complete the next step.

Thud.

Iwamaru's father had complimented his son on the results of his training, which felt bittersweet. Iwamaru shook his head. As much as he hated to say this, thinking about his family too much during training would make him sloppy. Pausing for a moment to double-check his form, Iwamaru clenched the bar over his shoulders more tightly, the concrete weights shaking slightly as he pushed his weight with his right leg, moving his left leg forward to continue the climb.

Thud.

The twang of metal straining under the weight reminded Iwamaru of his harp. It had been some time since he'd last seen Mr. Seng. He'd have to apologize to his music teacher the next time he saw him. He imagined, with all of the muscle he was going to build, he'd look a bit different than he currently did the next time he met the old man. Iwamaru flexed his left leg, making progress a bit more quickly than he'd anticipated with his ascent up these makeshift steps.

Thud.

Two more steps and here was there. The "training platform", if it could be called that, was actually two parallel beams of rebar that were exposed, connected by concrete on either side but otherwise exposed below. Just like with the pull-ups, Iwamaru would not be able to do the exercise quickly lest in his haste, he cause the metal to break and fall with both his own weight and the weight of the large improvised exercise tool he bore on his shoulders. Flexing his right leg, the trunk of a left leg came swinging under and up like a boxer's uppercut, planting itself firmly on the second to last step.

Thud.

There was only one more step. There was no need to distract himself further with thought. Iwamaru poised himself and, holding his weight with his left leg, brought his right leg up to step firmly on the final step.

Thud.

Bringing his other leg up, Iwamaru saw the two bars upon which he would stand before him. Stretching his left leg out first, he tested the bars to make certain they would support his weight. They held, as expected. Satisfied with the result, he hoisted his other leg onto the bars, placing his full weight on them. They bent slightly, but with the two bars present, they were able to handle both Iwamaru and the weight on his shoulders without issue. With that, keeping his back straight, Iwamaru began with his squats.

One... Two... Three... Four... Five...

The creak of metal under under his feet signaled the strain the surface he was standing on was under. He took note of it, but he continued with his exercise nonetheless.

Six... Seven... Eight... Nine... Ten...

This was only the second exercise for leg day, but Iwamaru was starting to feel the burn. Clenching his teeth, Iwamaru soldiered through his reps like a champ.

Eleven... Twelve... Thirteen... Fourteen... Fifteen...

Iwamaru paused to take a deep breath and resituate himself, drawing power from his core to push through the last few reps.

Sixteen... Seventeen... Eighteen... Nineteen... Twenty!

A bead of sweat trailed down Iwamaru's back. Well that was done... Now back down the stairs... Backwards.
Daily Training Snapshots: Day 7 - Chest

For today's training, Iwamaru was having a bit of a change of scenery. It turned out that the section of this level that he had thought had been surrendered to the elements and blight was actually targeted for massive reconstruction and renovation, so as to not provide malcontents any areas where they could easily hide from monitoring on this level. Though Iwamaru's current training site was still perfectly safe (for now), he figured that if he was going to train, why not try to help some of his fellow villagers also?

Iwamaru spoke to the skeptical foreman of the construction site he was now on. After aptly proving his physical strength by fireman carrying an injured ox off of the construction site by himself, the now much less skeptical foreman assigned Iwamaru to draw water for the crew so they could mix it to make cement and mortar for the building they were working on. An on-site well was drilled, as they found an aquifer nearby. The large metal pail was attached to two chains that fed through pulleys, and triggers at the top of the pail would trigger once fully compressed against the top framework of the well, releasing the water into trenches.

Iwamaru checked his wraps and waited for his services to be needed once again. He'd been at this for nearly half the workday already, and he'd learned that he didn't need to wait long. These workers were quick. "Hey, kid! Water, would ya?"

"Yessir!" he replied, tightly gripping the two chains. Bringing the two chains out towards the center of his chest, Iwamaru performed what was essentially a chest fly. To get enough water for every time he was called, he had to do no less than fifteen. These he also had to do quickly while still properly controlling the movement.

One... Two... Three... Four... Five...

The resounding clang of the metal pail hitting the top of the well frame rang out each time, and it was followed by a series of splashes and gurgles as the water poured into the metal channels prepared by the construction workers. Every so often, some of the water would splash onto the boy, which he relished. His skin hot from exertion, he continued.

Six... Seven... Eight... Nine... Ten...

The foreman came over to check on him. "Well, ain't you somethin', young man," he observed. "And here I thought the shinobi were above the simple dirty work we do every day."

Iwamaru exhaled as he pulled the chains towards the center of his chest again. "Some probably think they are..." he admitted, acknowledging the stain the class system brought upon their title. "But I have good parents... They taught me... everyone in this village is a part of Iwa... doesn't matter what they do."

Eleven... Twelve... Thirteen... Fourteen... Fifteen!

The foreman smiled, clearly impressed by the young man's code of ethics, was about to say something when his eye caught something. "Hey, hey! 'The heck 're you doin'?! You only needed one bag of the slag for cement! Why'd you dump two?!" he shouted, stomping over to the construction workers he was in the process of berating.

Iwamaru double-checked the wrappings on his hands. He suspected the foreman would need his strength in a moment.

His fairly obvious prediction did not delay in being fulfilled. "Hey, kid, I'm sorry, these screw-ups dumped too much of the mixture in. We're gonna have to make this a double batch of cement. Get us some more water, would ya?"

Iwamaru nodded. "You got it, boss!" he called back, taking a deep breath before pulling the chains up and towards the center of his chest.

One... Two... Three... Four... Five...

Metal clangs rang out yet again. Each time a clang ran out, the sound of gushing water would follow. Some of the workers on their breaks came to watch this fabled youngster with the strength of an ox. He wasn't sure why; it wasn't like shinobi were entirely uncommon to see. Besides, at least right now, they served as a distraction. His arms burned with the heat of rushing blood as he continued his manual labor, the chains clinking as they were pulled taut by Iwamaru's hands.

Six... Seven... Eight... Nine... Ten...

One of the younger employees, a junior, approached with a large wooden pail of fresh water. Iwamaru eyed him weaving through the construction, even as his arms pulsed with the motions of his exercise, veins starting to protrude on his biceps and forearms. It seemed that, despite the young man being older than him by at least a couple of years, he was insistent on showing the "proper" deference. "I was ordered to bring you some water, sir."

Iwamaru nodded, giving his response in breaths between reps. "Many... thanks... kind sir. You... can call me... Iwamaru," the genin replied, grunting slightly as he continued with his reps. "Could you... do me a favor?"

Eleven.

The young man nodded. "What do you need, Mr. Iwamaru?"

The genin chuckled a bit. Mr. Iwamaru. He'd never get used to that. "Could you... take a cup of that water... and pour it on my head?" he asked, pulling against the chains, refusing to allow his sore muscles to stop him.

Twelve.

The man nodded again and, taking the shallow bowl that had been brought along with the pail of water, scooped some water into it and slowly poured it over Iwamaru's head. The chill of the water on his head, neck, and back invigorated the young genin to finish the last two reps.

Fourteen.... Fifteen!

Slowly letting the pail down back into the well, Iwamaru took the pail from the junior's hands and, after saying thank you, brought the wooden bucket to his lips. In one prolonged gulp, Iwamaru drained the contents of the water bucket completely, sighing deeply as he set the bucket down. The young junior stepped forward and asked timidly. "Would you like another, sir?"

Iwamaru nodded heartily. "If you're willing to bring it. We still have work to do, right?"
Daily Exercise Snapshots: Day 11 - Core

Iwamaru had returned to his isolation, back to the familiar scenery of the dilapidated apartment building he'd been training at before. Instead of requesting any sort of monetary compensation, Iwamaru instead requested one of the construction grade chains they had at the site he'd been at just a few days ago. Considering the potentially exorbitant fees they might have been charged for using Iwamaru's services without formally requesting them from the Tsuchikage's office, they found it prudent to oblige Iwamaru's request instead.

He was glad they hadn't asked what it was for, lest their eyes pop out of their sockets from astonishment. What Iwamaru had done was fashion the chains into a harness with a large tether. At the slack end of that tether, Iwamaru placed all matters of concrete and debris into it, creating a weight to constantly pull against his core whilst he performed hanging situps. He was currently situated on the third story, his legs holding him up as the rest of his body hung down towards the groun, the bundle of construction refuse and crumbling rock currently resting on the ground within the tether of the harness.

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Iwamaru was going to do three different variations of the sit up. One straight, one leading to the left, and one leading to the right to target both his core and his obliques. Taking a deep breath, Iwamaru slowly exhaled as he braced his legs and lifted his torso up, the chains constricting under the pressure. The rumble of the concrete and metal compacting and lifting against the chains filled the air as Iwamaru completed his first sit-up. He then slowly brought the load back down to sit on the ground with a resounding thud before doing another sit-up, thistime twisting his torso to the left. Iwamaru would repeat it yet again, twisting his torso to the right on the third time.

"One," he sighed. Only roughly nine more reps or so to go.

The process would continue like such. Iwamaru would reset with each and every sit-up, using the sound of the bundle of construction debris hitting the ground to signal that he had properly reset. Up, left, right. Up, left, right. He'd taken off his shirt for this particular exercise. He was already starting to notice gains, and he didn't want to have to worry about buying any more garments. His shoulders had gotten a bit bigger, and they were more defined than before. His arms were more taut and defined. He had already had an excellent physique before, and he was simply building on that foundation now, like a hill growing to become a mountain. Tatsuo had said that maybe if he was a chuunin, they might recruit him.

Iwamaru's greatest joy was to subvert expectations.

He'd already completed a number of core exercises today, and a thin layer of sweat caused his skin to glisten as he continued with his sit-ups. Perspiration dripped off of his back and felt onto the "weight" below him. Twisting to the left, returning to neutral, then twisting to the right, Iwamaru finished his current rep, the rumble of rock colliding with the earth echoing through the ruined apartment complex.

"Four."

Iwamaru had wrapped some gauze around the chains that would make contact with his skin to prevent rubbing injuries, but his skin hadn't quite toughened up enough. Little dots of red appeared on the gauze as the chains abraded at the upper layers of skins and caused Iwamaru to bleed slightly. He ignored the pain, as well as the sensation of his blood dripping up his shoulder. So long as it wasn't a significant blood-flow, he would be done with the exercise before it became an issue. He sat up straight, the rattling of chains a cacophony against the peaceful silence that surrounded this desolate place. He crunched to the left, the sound of the rattling metal and stone in his harness akin to an earthquake. He crunched to the right, the bundle swinging and smacking into the wall, causing superficial damage to an already desecrated building.

"Seven."

The sound of a crash gave Iwamaru pause. Quickly looking down at the wall, he was relieved to see that there were no cracks or unexpected collapses. The sound must have simply been the sound of a controlled demolition at one of the construction sites. Though they were still a long way from this particular block, Iwamaru could see the first few construction sites from the top of the building when he was training. Sitting up and finishing the first part of the rep, Iwamaru set his back against the wall once again, the ground echoing the impact with his weight more softly. The size of the weight bundle he kept at the end of this chain harness was starting to leave a sizable indent in the ground. Iwamaru sincerely hoped that his training here wouldn't cause issue for the construction workers that would eventually come to rebuild this place. One crunch to the left and one crunch to the right later, Iwamaru finished the set.

"Nine."

Iwamaru took a few deep breaths. He was starting to feel the fatigue of his day of training get to him. Pressing his chest against the chain harness, he started with the first part of his final rep. His core ached and protested against the abuse, but Iwamaru would not be denied, and he completed the first crunch. Slowly letting his shoulder blades back down, they set against the cold concrete, now a bit wet with Iwamaru's sweat, he started the second part of the rep, crunching his abdomen to the left as he lifted the weight attached to him. His left oblique whined and screamed. Iwamaru paid no heed. A second thud rang out as the load once again hit the ground. His right oblique threatened him with failure. He threw that threat back at it and smacked it upside the head. His third crunch ended with a growl as he relaxed and let the bundle of debris, his training tool, hit the ground for a final time.

"Ten."

Iwamaru unhooked the chain harness and threw it over the rebar that he was hanging from by his legs. His fatigue, however great, was still no match for his willpower. He would take that test again at the end of this thirty days.

And he would pass it this time.
Daily Training Snapshots: Day 15 - Back, Shoulders

Training today was interrupted by an industrial accident.

Iwamaru heard the crash before he saw the dust. One of the new construction sites that had popped up recently seemed to have suffered a catastrophic equipment failure. The shouts of men and women arose from the haze that covered the area. Iwamaru knew that if he waited for the Tsuchikage's office to send aid, it would take some time. In that time, someone could be dying, if not already dead. It wasn't even a decision; using his Gaia Boost technique, Iwamaru leaped and bounded through the still mostly deserted sector and quickly arrived at the site of the accident not long after it occurred. Iwamaru's feet slammed into the ground as he came dropping down like a bomb, cratering the earth beneath him. "Shinobi on the scene! Sitrep, now!" he ordered. If it involved people's safety, he would use his rank to accomplish whatever he needed to.

One of the supervisors on the site ran up to him. "One of the cables hoisting steel beams up to the third story snapped and fell on top of the drain trench. We have people trapped in there, and the space is filling up with water. They'll drown if we don't do something, fast!"

Iwamaru nodded and ran over to the mass of steel beams in front of him. It was faint, but he could hear the panicked cries of men and women underneath it. What was not that faint was the sound of rushing water. They would be out of space to breath in five minutes and would drown shortly after. Wasting no time, he grabbed one of the steel beams and, hoisting over his head, bellowed "Everyone, move!"

They knew better than to not listen. Not moments after he issued the order, the area was cleared. He tossed the beam into the now open space.

Iwamaru didn't wait to see where the beam had landed; by the time it hit the ground, he was already picking up another one. In like fashion, he hoisted the beam over his shoulder and tossed it away. He could not allow himself a lapse in speed, not even for an instant here. Lives were literally on the line if he slowed down in any way, shape, or form. A third beam jointed the relocated pile, as did a fourth, fifth, six, and so on.

He couldn't simply remove enough to create an opening. Someone could still get trapped down there even with that opening, and Iwamaru wasn't about to let that happen. Screaming with each toss, the ringing sound of steel clashing against steel filled the air. As he was throwing one steel beam, his eyes caught the cable above him, and he realized the cause of the accident. This was no unseen issue with the cable, like a bad weld or placing too much weight on the cable.

The cable was dotted with heavy rust spots. The foreman had approved, if not ordered, the use of old, subpar, or unsafe equipment. Iwamaru's blood boiled. He'd half a mind to find the man and throw him through a wall or five after this was done, but he'd let the village take care of him. For now, the people needed his help.

Lifting one beam off of the ground and tossing it aside, he called down. "Shinobi! Take my hand!" he shouted, reaching down.

He felt a hand clasp his, and with a firm grip with both hands, Iwamaru pulled the terrified worker, a young woman, out from below. "There are others down there, Mr. Shinobi! Some of the beams fell in and separated us!"

Iwamaru shook his head. "I'll get them out; don't worry," he assured her before she was handed off to a supervisor. He reached his hand down again, and a second hand clasped his. This time, when he pulled, a man emerged from the trench. The man profusely thanked Iwamaru, which he returned with a nod. He had no time to engage in pleasantries. Moving onto the next grouping of beams, he resumed his work. The sound of steel on steel became louder, as did the terrified cries of those still trapped under the pile of metal beams and the sound of rushing water.

Iwamaru eventually encountered one of the vertical beams the previous worker had told him about. After removing the beams on top of it, Iwamaru gripped the metal beam stuck in the trench. He could see hands reaching out from behind it, as well as hear their belabored calls for help. "Move back!" he ordered, waving at the people underneath to move away from the beam. They did so, and bracing with his legs, Iwamaru started to lift. The ground in the trench had turned to mud, making the job that much more difficult. Gritting his teeth, Iwamaru continued to push up on the steel beam until, with a squelch, it ripped free from the mud. Pulling it fully from the trench, Iwamaru tossed it on the pile with the rest of the removed steel beams he'd moved must a few minutes before.

Five more people came wading out through the water, and Iwamaru grabbed their hands, one by one, and hoisted them out of the trench. Workers were nearby, ready to receive them and receive treatment. One of the men, however, refused to extend his hand. "There's another woman inside!" he shouted.

Iwamaru pulled him out by the scruff of his shirt and jumped in. Wading through the water, he saw the last young woman, pinned in the corner by a beam, right next to the water spigot that had been ripped open from the weight of the beam. Getting to her from the top would have taken too long. She would have drown had he not come down here. Taking a deep breath, Iwamaru dipped below the water. Feeling for the steel beam, he pulled up with his shoulders while pushing against the ground with his legs, which sunk into the mud. The beam slowly began to lift, the soft thud of other steel beams on top of it falling and hitting the ground. Eventually, the beam was high enough for the young woman to swim under and out to freedom.

Swimming to the edge of the trench, Iwamaru pulled himself up and out of the water, exhausted and soaked to the bone. The construction crew around him applauded, which he replied to with a tired nod. At long last, a fellow shinobi arrived on the scene, a female chuunin. Saluting, Iwamaru was breathing hard. "Ma'am... I'd like... to report a safety violation," he stated.
Daily Training Snapshots: Day 17 - Arms

Oh. Yay. Mariko-sensei found his personal training spot.

Iwamaru had originally intended to make his own dumbbells for training his biceps. When he saw her waiting for him when he arrived this morning, his heart sank. What had turned into a peaceful seclusion where he'd become stronger had turned into a source of nightmare fuel, sucking all hope for a calm and "normal" training session. Well, as normal as it could get for a shinobi.

"Sensei, why am I up here with no weights?" he called down, his sensei's body much smaller from a height of five stories.

"You'll see in a second. Now, shut up and let me work," she called back, working with the chain that Iwamaru had acquired from the construction job he'd helped with over two weeks ago. He could see her toiling down there, grabbing a piece of concrete out of the weight tether, putting two more back in, changing them out like they were parts on a carriage. Eventually, she called up to him. "Here, catch!"

He bent down and caught a long piece of rebar. Attached to it was the steel chain he'd gotten, minus the hook. He sincerely hoped she hadn't broken it just to make this. It would hinder his future core training if she had. He attempted to stand up, balancing on the two pieces of rebar, but he was halted by the chain pulling taut. Ah. That's what she was thinking. Standing up as straight as possible, he began his arm curls.

One... Two...

Each rep had to be performed slowly, not only so that he could use proper muscle control, but because one misstep and he'd be falling five stories down to the ground, face first. While he was actually fairly confident he could survive that fall now, he didn't think he'd walk out unscathed. Still, his sensei was staying uncharacteristically quiet. Completing his third arm curl, he looked down. She was gone.

Where'd she-

"Iwamaru-chaaaaan~."

The sound had come from his right side. Still continuing his arm curls, Iwamaru slowly turned his head in that direction and was mortified to see his sensei with her foot on the edge of the rebar he was standing on. He knew exactly what Mariko was going to do. He shook his head furiously.

She nodded, and pressed down.

The rebar under him began to wobble.

Five... Six...

Iwamaru channeled chakra into his feet to hold himself to the bar as he continued his exercise. His arms were beginning to tire a bit faster than normal. Unlike previous attempts, he'd always allowed the weight to hit the ground when his arms were fully extended. With how Mariko-sensei had set up this exercise, even when his arms were fully extended, he wouldn't be free of the weight. Truly, this was taking the exercise to a whole new level: doing proper reps with a heavy weight while also maintaining proper form and balance on an unstable surface.

Nine... Ten...

The shaking beneath his feet intensified as Mariko upped the ante. Stepping further out onto the rebar, she pressed down harder, causing the steel to flex even further. Iwamaru closed his eyes, as the shaking would likely cause him to become nauseated if he didn't. Instead, he focused on the use of his biceps, feeling the rebar twist in his hands as he pulled the weight up and slowly let it back down.

Fourteen... Fifteen...

Sweat was beginning to form on his brow. He had to admit: if there was one thing that Mariko-sensei knew how to do, it was how to make an already rigorous training regimen even more intense. With the rebar wobbling so much, he had to go even slower than he was before just to make sure that he was using the proper form and was executing each bicep curl correctly. The rattling of the chain as he shook up and down clanking against the concrete wall hit his ears. This was okay. Everything was okay. If submitting himself to his teacher's insufferable whims and training methods would make him strong enough to work with the Jousai, then he would suffer it with relish. He was also anticipating the look of surprise on the Bannin's face when he saw how much he'd grown in this month. That was worth all of this.

Seventeen... Eighteen...

All of the sudden, the shaking stopped, instead replaced by a sudden weight and warmth on his shoulders. "Wow, you really have been bulking up, huh?" Mariko observed, her voice coming from above.

Looking to each side, his suspicions were confirmed. This woman... she was literally sitting on his back! Like a horse! The sound of metal creaking and flexing certainly did nothing to alleviate his anxiety, either. It had been okay before, with here merely applying a little extra force to the rebar. But this? Both of their added weight on it? He wasn't certain if the rebar would hold.

Twenty... Twenty-one...

"Y-Yes... I-I'm trying to get stronger... So I can volunteer to clear the mountain pass... with the Jousai," he explained as his muscles began to strain under the exertion. Sweat dripped down off of his eyebrows to the ground below as he curled his arms again.

Twenty-two... Twenty-three...

"Ah... That explains it! I was wondering why you weren't coming around as much to train. Finally have a goal to reach for, eh, Maru-chan~?"

Twenty-four... Twenty-five!'

He couldn't see her face, but he felt her smile in her voice. "Good. That's an excellent goal to reach, Iwamaru. I'll be proud for you if you do."

Iwamaru smiled. For as much as she tried to be like a rambunctious older sister, Mariko did remind Iwamaru of his mother at times. Finishing the last rep, the genin lowered the weight down as low as it would go before he let the rebar slip from his hands, the weight hitting the ground with a resounding thud. Then, he stood up straight, grabbing her legs to make sure she didn't fall off. "Not if, Sensei... When... Now, will you please get off of me?"

She shook her head. "Nope! Matter of fact, that's gonna be part of your training today: doing all of your exercises while I'm sitting on you in some way. Fun, right?"

Iwamaru groaned. "Salt of the earth, Sensei. Salt of the earth."
Daily Training Snapshots: Day 20 - Wrists

Well, this was an interesting exercise to be certain. Iwamaru had uncovered a large metal contraption with rusted metal gears attached to the side at another dipalidated building adjacent to the one Iwamaru had been training at. For all of the major muscle groups he had been targeting, Iwamaru hadn't really paid much direct attention to small groups, like his wrists. Sure, they'd gotten stronger, but they still needed some love and care of their own. With that objective in mind, Iwamaru devised how to work his muscles in his wrists. Hooking the tips of his fingers around the teeth of the gear, he would slowly clench his fingers and pull the gear tooth towards the inside of his hands. The resistance caused by the rust and age of the machine would actually served to his benefit, increasing the overall difficulty of this already strict and peculiar exercise.

This would be the first exercise of the day, meaning his subsequent exercises would automatically increase in difficulty. Hooking his fingertips around the lip of the gear's tooth, Iwamaru pulled it back, the grinding and squeaking of rusty, aged metal protesting against his grip but ultimately giving into his will. Unlike with most of his other exercises, Iwamaru immediately felt the strain on his muscles. It wasn't much, and he could certainly continue, but he would have to focus on his wrists a bit more over the last ten days of his training.

Reaching out to the next tooth, Iwamaru continued with the exercise, pulling back tooth after tooth, the continuous grinding of rust and metal piercing the air around with the assaulting vibrations of its age and stubbornness. The exercise was working, but it still seemed a bit too easy. He decided to, as usual, make the exercise more extreme. Dropping his ring and pinky finger, he started his next rep of the exercise with only his middle finger and index finger, curling them in and pulling against the rusty gear tooth. The increase in effort required was substantial, and though it wasn't any sort of exhausting that would make him sweat, it was certainly more difficult than before. More slowly this time, the gear spun on its axis, bending to his will, the screech of metal lower and longer-lasting than before. Eventually, the gear tooth reached the inside of his hand, his palm hovering over it.

Iwamaru would then reach out to the next gear tooth with his ring finger and pinky finger, dropping the index finger and middle finger this time. Considering these were his smallest fingers, this part of the exercise was exceptionally difficult, and he had to focus hard on the movement of his tendons in his hands as he pulled against the rusty gear tooth. For a solid ten seconds, the rigged wheel didn't budge. Then, with a few creaks, the gear slowly gave way, slowly moving towards the palm of his hand.

Iwamaru then alternated to his left hand and repeated the same exercises, first starting with all four of his fingers on his left hand. As expected, the first parts of the exercise, while taking some effort, were relatively easy. Continuous screeching and howling of the machine against his unwarranted movements of its parts echoed across the dead walls of this abandoned place. Counting in his head, Iwamaru kept track of his reps.

Six... Seven... Eight... Nine... Ten!

Adjusting his exercise in kind, he started the next set of reps with only his middle finger and index finger. As before, this made the exercise that much more difficult, and Iwamaru gritted his teeth as he focused intently on the use of his fingers and the tendons in his hand and wrist. Slowly, the rusty metal tooth bent to his will, slowly spinning around on its axis. This he did several times, to make sure that he was working the tendons to their absolute extent. Then, he repeated the same exercise with the ring finger and pinky finger on his left hand, just as he had done with his right hand. And just as had happened with his right ring finger and pinky finger, it took several long seconds for the large gear to finally respond to his command, slowly spinning and continuing to grind against the rust that coated nearly every part of its surface.

Iwamaru stretched his fingers in and out, testing his range of motion and the tenderness of the muscles in his wrists when another idea came to his head. What if he tested each individual finger? He stopped and stared at the gear for a moment before deciding to move forward with that deeper extension of the exercise.

First, he would start with his index finger on his right hand. Hooking the sole finger around the great rusty wheel, he pulled against it with all of the strength he could muster. His goal was five reps for each finger, excluding his thumbs.

One... Two... Three... Four... Five!

Alright, the index finger was easy enough. He then changed fingers, testing the finger on his left hand.

One... Two... Three... Four... Five!

Good, the same general result. Tough, to be certain, but certainly not undoable. Iwamaru then changed to the middle finger on his right hand. His fingertip wrapped around the rust-ridden gear...

One... Two... Three... Four... Five!

Okay, so certainly tougher than the index finger, but still within his capabilities. Next, the middle finger on his left hand.

One... Two... Three... Four... Five!

Alright, half-way there! Next, Iwamaru set up to start the exercise with his right ring finger. As he looped and pulled with that finger, he defintely felt a strain he hadn't felt on the previous fingers. He forced himself to soldier through it. Eventually, the wheel began to turn...

One... Two... Three... Four... Five!

He was close to finishing, and he wasted no time in starting the exercise with the left ring finger. He chuckled as he actually felt a small amount of sweat form on his forehead. Even working out fingers could be exhausting it seemed.

One... Two... Three... Four... Five!

At long last, he was at the pinky fingers. Iwamaru knew this was going to be hard. Placing his right pinky finger on the gear, he pulled. For a solid twenty seconds, nothing happened. Iwamaru gritted his teeth as he strained against the rusted gear. Eventually...

One... Two... Three... Four... Five!

One more finger to go. The left pinky finger. He poured every last ounce of strength he had left in his now supremely sore wrists.

One... Two... Three... Four... Five!

Shaking his hands out, Iwamaru was glad to be done with this particular exercise. He knew it was important to exercise even the smallest muscle groups, but he fervently hoped that he would have an easier time using the Jousai's equipment when he earned his place.
Daily Training Snapshots: Day 25 - Full Body

Iwamaru by this point had shed most of his baby fat due to the rigorous training he'd done over the past twenty-four days. As he was in his last week of his training, Iwamaru wasn't just strong. He was ripped. He'd had to go buy new t-shirts because of how large his shoulders and arms had become. His level of strength had skyrocketed, and for as much as he'd loved the old broken down building he'd spent most of that time in, he was now confident that with a single punch, he could destroy what remained of the building. So, as to make clean-up easier and safer for the construction workers that would soon be there, he did just that. It also meant he had to find another means of training for this last six days.

Thankfully, he'd found a rickshaw driver in need of a runner.

Checking the shoulder straps on the harness he'd been given, Iwamaru slipped on his gloves. He wouldn't have his sword on him, but the rest of his equipment was on his belt. This would certainly would be a change of pace. He was hoping that he got the workout that he was looking for from this little sidejob, though. The day had started out a lot slower than he had been hoping when he'd accepted the job. He shrugged to himself. That's what I get for being too hasty, he thought to himself.

"Excuse me! Excuse me! Please, we need your help!"

Iwamaru's eyes shot towards the sound of the noise. He saw a man, five kids, and a woman who was heavily pregnant... and considering the look of pain on her face, she was likely starting to have contractions... Oh.

Oh no.

The man was presently bartering with a carriage rider, but the price he was asking for all of them was ridiculous. Iwamaru looked back at his rickshaw. It would be a bit of a rough ride... but he could fit them all. "Hey! I have space, I can take you!"

The man heard a voice offering help and didn't think to question that it was a rickshaw. Beckoning the kids to come to him, they scrambled over and climbed on. The wife, going a bit slower for the most obvious of reasons, reached the rickshaw. Kicking up the stirrups to hold the rickshaw in place, Iwamaru slipped out of his harness and offered to pick her up and sit her on the cart, which she obliged. The husband thought he'd need help at first, but when he saw the young man pick up his beloved like she was a literal piece of paper, he deferred to his ability. "Are you sure this is okay? We won't be too heavy for you?" the husband asked.

Ducking back into the harness, Iwamaru shook his head as he refastened the clasp on his chest. "You'll be fine. None of you weigh as much as the ox I herded yesterday!"

The man had a brief moment to digest that confusing statement. "What-

And they were off!

Iwamaru knew the nearest hospital was roughly a mile away from here, but he also knew the best ways to get there. Right now, the market would be crowded, meaning he'd have to cut up three blocks north and head east before going south for a block or two. All in all, he could probably get them there in about six minutes.Thankfully, this rickshaw had wheels that allowed them to pivot as they turned to a degree so that, as Iwamaru took an immediate sharp left, the family wasn't nearly thrown from their seats. There wouldn't be too many turns like that, thankfully. For now it was a straight shot up this road.

Iwamaru shouted to people in the street up ahead. "Coming through, please move!" he called, bringing those about to be bulldozed over by him and his passengers to attention. Considering the seriousness of the issue, he figured it would be important to keep the kids' spirits high. Thus, whilst running through the street at max speed, he started howling like a wolf. The kids, tickled to the bones by the sound, started repeating it in kind, much to the chagrin of the husband. He knew Iwamaru's intentions, though, and thus tolerated it. "Do you always make animal noises when going about your work?" he asked.

"Do you not?" he replied with as much of a grin as the context would allow him to offer.

Just as they were about a hundred feet off from the next turn, a collision between two carriages occurred right before their eyes. Slowing down the cart quickly but safely, Iwamaru cursed under his breath as he removed his harness. They had no time for this! After assisting the carriage drivers off to the side of the road (thankfully, they were not terribly injured, just a bit bruised from the fall), he then quickly tended to the people in the carts, all of whom were thankfully unharmed but terribly frightened. Having no time for pleasantries, he then, in full view of everyone, ripped off the tops of the carriages, one with each hand, and tossed them off to the side. Now with a clearway out of the rubble, the passengers scrambled to the side of the road as well. With a few deft chops and cuts from his kunai, the horses were freed, and the carriage drivers led them away from the intersection. With two deft kicks, he forcefully shoved the wreckages out of the center of the street towards an alleyway, relieving the congestion that had built up because of the accident. Lastly, he threw down a smoke bomb and detonated it, making sure it was far away from the center of the intersection to allow people to pass. The drifting smoke would alert other shinobi of an incident. They would clean up the rest soon.

Running back to his rickshaw, he put the harness back on, and just like that, they were off, taking that very same right hand turn. The passengers of his rickshaw were uncharacteristically quiet. He turned back for a moment and noticed how intently they were all staring at him. "The ox I herded were really big," he offered, chuckling because even he knew that was a load of crap.

After about ten minutes later, after a few more turns without incident, they skidded to a stop at the very front of the hospital. The kids were, once again, howling like wolves, and it was only now that Iwamaru felt a tinge of regret for what he'd introduced to the man's children. Despite that, any grievance he might have with Iwamaru was gone from his face, replaced by relief. "Thank you, young man, thank you so much," he stated, handing over the payment for the ride after he helped his wife down from the rickshaw. "We'd been trying to get a ride to the hospital all day. I don't know what would have happened if we hadn't gotten here in time."[/color]

Iwamaru shook his head, trying to catch his breath. "No worries. Keep it. Just doing what I can," he offered.

The children had alerted the nurses to their mother's plight, and two midwives came out with a wheelchair and rushed her into the hospital. "Please, tell me your name. I will name my child after you for your generosity," the man insisted.

Iwamaru laughed. "No need, friend. We are both fellow villagers. Let your child have the dignity of their own name."

The man's eyes softened. "Who are you, to act so kindly towards me?"

Iwamaru picked up the handles to the rickshaw in his hands. Before he turned and left, he answered:

"I'm a shinobi."
Daily Training Snapshots: Day 30 - Full Body

This was it. This was the last day.

Iwamaru had just secured a mission tomorrow to transport more armaments to the Jousai Citadel. He'd just finished a light workout before getting the summons, and he was jogging home in his workout clothes. He could hardly contain his excitement at showing Tatsuo his progress. He still remembered the feel of Raijin-sempai's hammer in his hands. He remembered how happy he'd been to be able to lift it even a little. He still wondered if he could even now. Was he ready? There was only one way to find out.

The sound of a little girl wailing loudly broke Iwamaru from his train of thought. That wasn't only a cry of sadness; it was one of panic. Iwamaru bolted towards the source of the crying: a young girl, no older than ten, sitting at the dock of a small fishing lake. Skidding to a stop next to her, Iwamaru knelt down. "Shh, shh, little one, don't worry. I'm here to help. What's wrong?" he asked, trying to look the girl in the eye.

The young girl had her face buried in her arm. "M-My little brother and I... w-we got into an argument, and he ran away," she sobbed, pointing toward the lake. He took our dog on the boat a-and unhooked it from the dock. He's all the way out there in the water, mister. He can't swim!"

Trying his best to calm the girl, Iwamaru reassured her. "Don't worry, little one. I'm a shinobi. I'll go across the water very quickly and carry him and the dog back-"

She shook her head, clutching Iwamaru's shirt in a panic. "You can't! He hates shinobi! Our papa was a shinobi an' he died! He died during a mission... He's always hated shinobi since then!"

The girl's very pointed objection shot Iwamaru to the core. He remembered the last time he'd talked to a child about being a shinobi. Maybe he shouldn't be worried about it. He didn't regret the choices that made him enter the force, nor would he deter anyone else from joining.

Iwamaru looked down at his hands. No... He wasn't just a shinobi. He was a citizen of Iwagakure no Sato. He didn't need to save the child as a shinobi. He could do it as a man. "Then I'll swim to him. Go. Get your mother. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Before she could protest, Iwamaru dove head first into the water with a clean splash. The cold water washed over his skin and threatened to fill his nostrils as he broke the surface. Hand over hand, and with powerful kicks driving him forward, Iwamaru shot across the water, faster than any man she'd probably seen before.

Iwamaru had done swimming before, but never had he done long distance swimming before now. He didn't fully appreciate the need to pace one's self before he started to feel his energy wane. The boat, though it was visible, was still a long ways away. He thought to slow down and try to pace himself, but then he decided against it. We were dealing with a young child under the age of ten. It was entirely possible that he could decide to try and escape himself into the water, and while he'd like to think the boy could, it was also entirely possible that the child couldn't swim. No, he had to pour all of his strength into getting to the child quickly and getting him back to shore.

Ten solid minutes of overarm strokes later, Iwamaru finally was coming up on the boat, and through the sloshing of water in his ears, he could hear the faint wimper of a small child. Good, the child was still alive. Iwamaru's first thought was to climb into the boat, but then he paused. Doing so might easily spook the child. Instead, he stopped and tread water. "Hey! Young man! Hey"

The whimpering stopped, and after a few seconds, a tear streaked face poked out over the rim of the small wooden boat along with a very scared looking beagle.

Iwamaru smiled amidst breaths. "Throw me the mooring rope, young man. I'll get you to shore."

Much to Iwamaru's surprise, the boy's face twisted in anger. "No! Go 'way!" he shouted before vanishing, the dog quickly following suit.

Great. He'd swam all the way out here to come save someone that didn't want to be saved. Now what? Swimming a bit closer, he knocked on the side of the boat. "Young man... Can I come aboard? I won't try to take you back, I promise..."

There was a long pause. Then "...Okay."

He had to make sure to not make the boat tip over. Channeling a little bit of chakra into his feet underwater, he gave the appearance of leaning over the edge of the wooden boat and flopping on the floor. Catching his breath for a moment, he sat up and took a good look at the boy... and Iwamaru couldn't deny the resemblance he held to his younger self right after his mom died. The sadness, bitterness, resentment towards the world. Part of him still held onto those feelings deep inside. "Hey... Your sister's really worried about you," he told the boy.

The boys lower lip started to quiver, but other than that, he didn't budge.

"I know what she probably said hurt a bit... but I'm certain she didn't mean it. She loves you, with all of her heart," he continued, watching the boy's crossed arms slowly drop. "And I bet you probably said some pretty mean things to her too, things that you didn't mean, right?"

He shook his head, staring at the floor of the boat as the tears began anew.

Iwamaru lightly patted the kid on the shoulder. "Let's go. So you can apologize in person... and so you can tell her that you love her. Alright?"

The boy sniffled. "...Okay," he replied, his voice cracking.

Iwamaru shook his head and rolled himself over the side of the boat back into the water, taking the mooring rope with him. Taking the rope in his teeth, Iwamaru swam forward. Eventually, the rope pulled taut dragging the boat with him. Despite the additional weight of the boat and soaked jogging trousers, he was making a pretty modest clip. The beagle, balancing himself on the prow of the boat, barked excitedly as they sped across the water. The little boy moved towards the center of the boat. In silence, he sat, watching the shoreline as it slowly came closer into view.

Iwamaru was nearly spent. He'd never swam that far that quickly before, and swimming worked out practically every muscle in his body at once. His arms ached. His back ached. His chest and core ached. His shoulders ached. His legs ached. Heck, even his neck was sore from dragging a boat around with his teeth for nearly fifteen minutes while swimming as fast as he could. Thankfully, his workout before had been a bit light. Now this? Swimming across a small lake? This was an exercise worthy of closing out this month of intense training.

At long last, he made his way to the dock, where the same teary-eyed sister and a distraught mother were waiting. Pulling himself up on the dock and tying the boat to the mooring post, he helped the young boy and the beagle out of the water. The little sister and little brother ran towards each other and hugged, quickly followed by an enveloping embrace from their mother, who profusely thanked Iwamaru. Assuring her no thanks was needed, a sopping wet Iwamaru gathered his few things and departed.

As he walked away, the little boy looked up to his sister. "Sis, who is he?"

She looked at the back of the man who'd stopped to help them. "He's a shinobi... and he's our hero, little brother," she told him.

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ShinobiTruth
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Tate Iwamaru - Training Thread

Post by ShinobiTruth » Thu Jun 06, 2019 12:11 am

Daily Training Snapshots: Supplemental - Speed, Day 1: 5088/5000 words

Alright, so not all of the missions received when you're a genin are glorious or interesting. Sometimes, they're as simple as catching an animal that's run away from its home.

Iwamaru was on the top of a shop, scanning the streets for the sign of a small dog that fit the description of the pet that Iwamaru had been provided by the villager that had contracted the shinobi to find it for her. An older woman, she seemed quite distraught over the loss of the pet, especially considering it was so small and fragile. It could easily be stepped on by an ox, horse, donkey, or other much larger beast of burden, and its life would end quietly without anyone batting an eyelash at its corpse. It was imperative that Iwamaru find the animal, and quickly.

Hopping along the roof-tops, Iwamaru peered down into several alleys, looking for the dog. Eventually, he found it, seemingly quite content to feast on the scraps from a local shop's compost. Jumping off of the roof, Iwamaru expected this to be a fairly simple capture. The woman did say her dog was well socialized. What he didn't realize, however, was exactly how large and physically imposing he'd become during his training. When the dog saw what it thought to be a behemoth of a man, it yelped and, scrambling atop the compost pile, jumped over a nearby fence, cordoning off the alley from the adjacent street. Rolling his eyes, Iwamaru took to chasing after the dog.

Despite its small legs, the dog was quite fast and agile. Dipping underneath stalls and zipping between the wheels of various fruits and vegetable carts, it tried to hide and distance itself in the marketplace. Iwamaru pursued the animal, his keen senses not letting the animal escape his gaze but his speed, still somewhat lacking. The dog began to pull ahead, away from him.

A great sense of irritation arose in Iwamaru's chest. What exactly was all of this training he was doing trying to get stronger if he was too slow to catch his enemies? The mere thought was absurd! He would be the laughing stock of the village if he couldn't even catch one small dog. Or at least, that's how he saw it in his eyes. Tapping deep into his energy reserves and the muscles he'd built in his massive trunk legs, Iwamaru pushed himself to run faster.

At some point, he managed to break even with the dog's speed, moving just about as fast as the quadruped mammal. This continued on for several minutes, as the pair bobbed and weaved through the crowded marketplace. There were a number of times where Iwamaru dreaded that the dog may have been run over or trampled by something (or someone) else further ahead, but as he continued trying to catch his quarry, he could see the now irritating animal still lively running away from the big bad scary man simply trying to get it back to its owner.

Eventually, the marketplace gave way to a large grassy park, dotted with trees, about a full city block in size. Mostly tall grass, Iwamaru pushed himself to go even faster. He had to catch the dog in this park. The marketplace was even busier in the section they were running towards. It was a miracle enough that the dog hadn't been stomped to death in the first part of their chase. There was simply no way he could see any possibility of the dog making it out of the more densely traveled sections of the marketplace alive. It was all or nothing.

They had been in the park about ten seconds, and Iwamaru had managed to close the gap by two feet. There was still roughly ten feet more to go. The spry little dog was already difficult to see in favorable environments. The tall grass that it was dashing through completely obscured the animal, and the only way he could tell its location was by the movement of said tall grass around the small animal as it bolted through the foliage and vegetation without hesitation or refrain. The tall grass in and of itself was also a significant danger. There were other critters and animals in there, like snakes, that could not only fend off the dog, but could possibly kill it and eat it for their next meal. His legs were burning, but Iwamaru pushed himself further still. The distance between the dog and the human shinobi closed even further, dropping down to only eight feet of clearance.

About a quarter way through the park, this gap still remained. Despite his chuunin level stamina, Iwamaru had to commend the frightened dog. Out of fear alone, it had managed to give Iwamaru a modest workout. It had even helped him establish the limits of his abilities and even begin to expand them. He would thank the dog by returning the now likely exhausted pet to his loving and caring home. Iwamaru pushed even harder and closed the distance to four feet.

Halfway through the park, Iwamaru could see the street where the park ended and the road towards the much busier section of the marketplace began. His nerves started to fray. He really had to pull something out from deep within him in order to save this dog. If he didn't, he would not only suffer the shame of failing a D-Ranked mission, but he'll have failed himself and the dog as well, who deserved a chance at a full life just like any animal. Iwamaru drove his feet even faster than they were going already, hoping this newfound speed would be enough to end this mission before things got truly hairy.

At long last about three-fourths of the way through the park, Iwamaru got his hand firmly on the scruff of the dog's neck. The dog offered a protest, but as soon as he made eye contact with Iwamaru's powerful green eyes, any future contests the dog might have had were quickly forgotten. Iwamaru walked off, intent to carefully study this mission and see exactly how he could improve.
Daily Training Snapshots: Supplemental - Speed, Day 2

Alright, so big bad tank boy Iwamaru was a slowpoke. He understood that after yesterday's ordeal with a small dog that he literally could have flicked to death.

Iwamaru was back at the top of buildings, looking for another dog. Normally, after the first mission, the administrative office had to find another genin to take the lackluster mission. Thus, it was with a confused arch of the eyebrow that the secretary at the office handed him another dossier for yet another lost dog. This one was slightly larger, though still pretty diminutive in size. It was a hair dog, as well, so at least it would be more likely to stand out.

...Or at least that's what he thought when he started the mission. Yet, as the minutes dragged on, approaching nearly an hour of searching, Iwamaru was still left scratching his head. This doggo had done up and vanished. Where could the critter possibly be? Perhaps he needed to work on his visual acuity in the near future as well. Almost as if on cue, Iwamaru's eyes passed over a bundle of rolled wool. Something caught his eye, and he did a double-take. Lying in that pile of wool was his target, apparently just resting, curled up into a ball. Perhaps a bit scared of unfamiliar territory, based on how it was resting, but other than that, it was okay. In his elation, Iwamaru jumped down from the roof, realizing only while in midair that doing that was a terrible idea and would likely scare the dog away from its resting place. And like a self-fulfilling prophecy, Iwamaru landed with a hard thud on the ground, and the dog scrambled off the wool pile into the streets.

Rolling his eyes, Iwamaru set off, again, bolting through the market streets, chasing after the dog. Much like the dog the day prior, this particular pooch was in danger of being trampled or rolled over by a great many deal of things, but at least it was big enough for the humans to take notice and part ways for it. Considering they also saw Iwamaru chasing after it immediately, they imagined he was either animal control or its own and simply let him be. Iwamaru thanked the earth for that misunderstanding; it was much easier to keep pace with the dog when the path was clear.

Then the dog turned left down one of the main travel roads... Oh no.

Taking the same sharp left, Iwamaru cursed to himself as he saw a large number of carts and carriages, being hauled by various types of beasts of burden, all traveling down the main road separating one block from the next. He continued running forward, zipping between carts, hoping to find his quarry. Eventually he spotted the dog up ahead, his small frame able to move much more easily through the constantly shifting maze of carts and carriages. Iwamaru started running parallel to the dog, hoping to catch up before cutting over to his left to catch him. Slowly, but surely, Iwamaru started to close the distance between himself and the dog. Five meters dropped to four, four meters eventually dropping to three. He allowed himself a bit of hope. Maybe this mission would be over more quickly than the last. That would be a real trea-

Without warning, the dog veered off to the left into (you guessed it) another park. This one was filled with various stone bridges and walkways, weaving its way throughout. Yeah, no, hoping too early was a mistake.

Dodging his way through the traffic on the road, Iwamaru made a mad dash into the park. The dog would zip down one of the paths that took it to a short tunnel. Iwamaru opted to travel in a straight line instead, hoping to beat it through speed and economical movement. They were both running diagonally through the park, once again roughly the size of a city block, the dog below still managing to keep the distance stable even despite running in and out of the winding tunnels and pathways below him. Iwamaru poured more of his energy into his admittedly sore legs. Slowly, but surely, he managed to close about another meter of distance, he and the dog now only roughly six meters away from each other. This general distance measurement remained consistent as the young man and the dog embroiled in the chase crossed the halfway mark for the park, crossing its geographical center.

There was no real danger on the other side of the park this time aside from the obvious, but Iwamaru vowed to himself that, just like before, the dog would not reach the end of this park. He didn't want to return empty-handed or with only the corpse of the dog. The missive specifically stated that the dog was wanted alive. He would fulfill the parameters of the mission. Pushing his legs to go even faster, Iwamaru continued to slowly close the gap between himself and his target, his feet soundly pounding on the ground below, villagers in the park to relax looking up to see the heavily muscled young man running through the park with seemingly no purpose in sight. Six feet became five feet, five feet became four feet, four feet became three feet. He at times envied these animals, they tended to naturally have levels of speed and stamina that humans always had to work themselves to the bone to achieve, even as shinobi.

Three-fourths of the way through the park, they were on the home stretch, a single path leading straight out of the park and into the rest of the marketplace. It was now or never. Iwamaru pushed himself even harder, eventually closing the last three feet and grabbing the dog by the scruff of the neck and slowing down. The dog yipped and barked in protest, but Iwamaru scooped the pooch up in his arms regardless and held it firmly. Eventually, it calmed down, and as Iwamaru started walking back to the administrative office, he even started petting it a bit. His mom had always wanted a pet...
Daily Training Snapshots: Supplemental - Speed, Day 3

So the assistant at the office now thought Iwamaru to be completely insane. Not in the entire history of her working at that office had she seen the same genin come back for a third time to do a pet retrieval mission. She literally asked him if he was feeling alright and offered him a card to village psychiatric consultation services. Iwamaru wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that statement, so he simply thanked the lady, took his mission dossier, and went on his merry way. He would be lying if he said he didn't still have that odd exchange on his mind even as he was beginning his mission/training. Hey, if he was gonna have to train to become faster, he might as well do it while getting paid and working with animals.

This time, the animal was not a dog. Rather, it was some type of rodent, much akin to a ferret. Known for their speed and excellent jumping abiliities, they're prized as vanity pets throughout the middle class merchants in Iwagakure. They naturally lived in the mountains but were actually fairly easy to domesticate. Often times, owners would keep their cages in high places and on rooftops, as they preferred high places. Thus, while Iwamaru was still on a roof as he was before, he was not looking down on the streets today. No, instead, he was moving, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, scanning for the small pet with his eyes. The creature's fur was white and brown, making it stand out against the fairly drab sight of the various browns, grays, and blacks that the roofs were colored in the village.

He had to search more slowly with his eyes so as to not pass over any potential hiding spot. The target was smaller this time, meaning there were more places it could hide. Opting for stealth, Iwamaru decided to wear his tabi today, as his boots were too loud. Iwamaru's eyes slowly scanned the roofs around him, and a rustling of sorts under a newspaper caught his eye. Landing as quietly as he could, Iwamaru slowly approached the newspaper. As he got roughly within three feet of the refuse, a white a brown streak zipped out from under it and bolted away towards the edge of the roof. At first Iwamaru was certain the creature would kill itself, but when he saw it jump and extend skin membranes to glide over to the next roof, he realized he'd need to be more concerned about himself more than anything.

Leaping over to the same roof, the ferret-like creature turned what Iwamaru was hoping, yet again, would be a simple capture mission into a high octane chase across the rooftops of the city block. Anyone who was working or resting on their roofs would see the interesting sight of some sort of small creature leaping between buildings followed by a stocky looking young man. Working jumps into his full sprint made this even better training than before for Iwamaru, which he didn't mind. There also wasn't as much of a danger on the roofs as there was for a creature his size in the streets. No, the only thing he had to worry about was making sure he could make these jumps. Even though the boy was already starting to close the distance between himself and the creature he was pursuing, the jumps this animal was making without even breaking a sweat was impressive. So, yes, even as he was running and leaping, full speed and even faster, between rooftops, he still had to make sure he was moving fast enough to clear the gaps.

That, and hawks. The occasional hawk would make its way down here and roost high up in the walls... and a small ferret would certainly make a good meal.

A full three rooftops had separated the boy and the target before Iwamaru had managed to at least match the creature's speed. Slowly, over the course of the next minute or so, he would decrease that gap by a half rooftop. By the time the ferret had landed on one rooftop, Iwamaru was already mid-jump to the next one. Though it was certainly taking time to do so, the genin was, inch by inch, closing the sizable gap between himself and the animal he was charged with capturing and bringing back to its owner alive.

Soon, that distance dropped even further to two rooftops. Iwamaru was actually enjoying the pace at which he was pushing himself, bit by bit, to go even faster, but the telltale cry of a bird of prey in the sky ended that relaxed notion right quick. Looking up mid-jump, Iwamaru could see a hawk having left its roost and slowly gliding down, ready to hunt. It was still a ways off, but it was likely that the creature had already spotted the ferret. Iwamaru pushed himself harder, and over the next ten seconds, he managed to close the gap between himself and the ferret even further, about one rooftop and some change. Iwamaru's eyes shot up to the animal again. It was circling around, a bit north of them, but still within their vicinity. It seemed that the bird had caught eye of the quick but ultimately defenseless ferret that was jumping between rooftops, just gleefully announcing its presence to the terror of the skies. If the bird could do so, it probably would be licking its beak in anticipation.. Iwamaru kicked his legs into overdrive. If he didn't catch this ferret in the next ten seconds, this poor pet was about to become a bird's lunch.

Putting on a last burst of speed, Iwamaru closed the last rooftop, jumping after the creature. The bird saw its chance and swooped in while its prey was airborne. Grabbing the ferret with one hand and smacking the bird with the back of his other hand, Iwamaru landed soundly on the next rooftop, a startled but unharmed ferret in his hands and a hawk flying away, nursing its bruised ego and empty stomach. Having realized that the human chasing it had just saved it from certain death, the ferret climbed on Iwamaru and slipped inside his jacket, making itself comfortable. Iwamaru made haste towards the administrative office, petting and lightly scratching the little ferret. His owner would be happy to see him safe and sound.
Daily Training Snapshots: Supplemental - Speed, Day 4

Thankfully, the secretary didn't think he was crazy anymore. Someone pointed out the very obvious possibility that Iwamaru could have been taking so many pet retrieval missions back to back because he was an animal lover, and that seemed to gloss things over quite well. Considering it was an older woman who served as the secretary, she seemed to have formed a grandmotherly bond with the boy over these missions.

Iwamaru didn't have the heart to tell her that that bond was entirely one-sided.

His target this time around was of the feline variety, of a more exotic distinction. The animal was apparently purchased from out of country, and Iwamaru had the displeasure of seeing the ungrateful, irate businessman who reeked of ludicrous amounts of cologne requesting shinobi services. He was warned that the cat was exceptionally fast and was adapted to urban environments. For some reason, Iwamaru found that particular detail strange, because he was told the cat would likely be found in a park. Why would a cat that is supposedly adapted to urban environments going to be more easily found in a place specifically devoid of major urban development?

Shaking the thought from his mind, Iwamaru focused on the mission. This park on the upper level of the village was larger than the ones at the bottom, more than double the size. It was a massive area to search, and the patterning on the cat's fur was ideally suited to camoflague itself in dense greenery.

Iwamaru would have had to spend more time looking for it if not for an inexplicable stroke of luck. Iwamaru turned a corner to head down a forested path and, lo and behold, the target walked out from the tree line onto the path not five feet right in front of him. His eyes locking onto his objective for the mission, Iwamaru dashed towards the cat, and the cat fled through the tree line. Iwamaru followed in pursuit. It was a bit larger than he expected

Charging through the foliage, Iwamaru pushed the dial to eleven right from the get go. If he lost sight of the cat even for a second, the mission would most likely end in failure. The cat was known for being very adept at camouflaging itself and masking its presence. It was mere happenstance that he'd managed to find it in the first place. He had to go full speed, all pistons firing, at all times. He trusted he'd have enough stamina to do so. His only concern was his legs being able to keep up.

As they broke from the treeline and reached a grassy plain, Iwamaru got a better look at the animal. It was truly a sight to behold. A feral looking feline, its powerful legs and back glistened in the sunlight as what almost seemed like gold specks in its fur. The dark brown colors in its fur helped disguise it in the dark underbellies of woods and forests, and its speed let it capitalize on its natural stealth to take down its prey. Iwamaru was having trouble simply keeping up with the creature. Pushing himself past his limit, Iwamaru pulsed forward, starting to inch slowly towards the member in his mad dash to capture the creature.

Iwamaru saw about half a mile out that there was a second, even more densely overgrown treeline that the two of them were running at, going full speed. The genin knew that if he didn't catch the cat before they reached that treeline, this cat was going to get away. It would slip into the underbrush while Iwamaru would be halted dead in his tracks. He couldn't afford to barrel through the trees, as he would likely crush the cat in knocking even one of the smaller trees over. It would be a dead end for him. End of line. At all costs, Iwamaru could not let the cat get to that treeline. Iwamaru drove his legs into the ground even further, straightening his back as he continued to chase after the speedy feline. He continued, bit by bit, to close the gap between them.

They were about only a quarter of a mile out from that treeline, and about ten feet of clearance separated Iwamaru from his objective. The cat showed no sign of slowing down, meaning Iwamaru had to pick up the pace even further. It already felt like Iwamaru was running as fast as he could, but he had to go faster. He had to be ready to rip the muscles in his legs to catch this cat if he had to. Grunting through the fatigue, Iwamaru pushed his tired legs to go further beyond their limits, and with each stride, Iwamaru cut a couple of inches off of the distance between himself and the cat that he was chasing.

There was only about a hundred yards between the cat and the dense tree line that represented its eternal freedom. Part of Iwamaru wanted to let the cat go free. He wasn't partial to the foul man who wanted the cat returned to him. Yet, he had a duty to complete the mission. This sense of duty drove him forward, pushing his speed past its current limits, helping him blast forward and finally, at long last, catch the cat by the scruff of the neck. The cat hissed and protested as it hunched over, its claws not able to get through his toughened skin. It was only after he had the animal in his hands that he noticed a very peculiar collar. It didn't have a name; instead... it had a lot number.

This cat was being sold. Likely to be killed and skinned for its fur.

Catching his breath, Iwamaru was conflicted. The cat had likely been poached from its home in the wild. Having a soft spot for animals, the wholesale slaughter of animals for something other than necessity, like food or clothing that you don't otherwise have, was detestable in Iwamaru's eyes. But he was given this mission by the village. He'd never failed a mission before, and it could even be considered a matter of loyalty.

What would he do?
Daily Training Snapshots: Supplemental - Speed, Day 5

This was his last day for training his speed. The last month had gone by so quickly. He'd already put in a request to take the next set of munitions up to the Jousai Citadel, but he'd need to wait a couple of days to see if he'd be approved for the mission. For now, he took one last animal retrieval mission, and boy, was this one a doozy.

It came from a fellow shinobi.

With a considerable amount of embarrassment, this particular shinobi was responsible for training search dogs for the civilian police force, particularly for tracking and locating illicit substances. Normally, the shinobi would have simply looked for the pooch himself, but in this particular case, he already had another dog he was still training. The training was intensive and highly regimented, and any break in routine would potentially ruin the dog's ability to be trained. Iwamaru warmly accepted the mission, intrigued by the shinobi's work, and he granted him the assurance that the dog would be returned safe and sound. There was also another funny tidbit to the mission as well, and Iwamaru relished the opportunity he would have to indulge it. The dog was trained to respond only to the trainers voice... or to very specific commands, should the trainer not be present. With these commands in mind, Iwamaru headed to the marketplace, as the dog would likely be attracted to the smells of the food there.

Unlike the previous pets, this doggo was larger and more lupine in appearance. He would stand out like a sore thumb, and stand out he did; not five minutes into his search, Iwamaru found the doggo tearing into a roasted pheasant. It seemed that one shopkeeper had taken a liking to the beautiful and intelligent creature, and he'd given up some of his product to satsify the dog's needs.

After a short conversation to the shopkeeper and a purchase, Iwamaru walked up to the gray and white wolf dog, another roasted pheasant in hand. The creature's sharp, intelligent eyes focused in on him, aware that the human wanted something with him.

"Iwamaru," he said, unable to hide his smile.

The dog wagged its tail. It'd long finished the first bird, and it eyed the second one in Iwamaru's hand with a vengeance.

"Fall in."

The dog walked over to him and sat down at his heels.

"Follow."

Iwamaru walked out of the store toward the administrative office, and the dog followed, stepping in line. Iwamaru was amazed at how well the dog followed orders. With how well it followed orders... that gave Iwamaru an idea. A way to train even with an easily obedient dog.

The pair reached the main street that led up to the main office, where the dog's trainer was waiting. It's keen sense of smell could pick up his scent, and his tail wagged excitedly. All Iwamaru had to do was give the command, and it would begin. Poising himself to run, Iwamaru gave the word.

"Return."

And like that, both the dog and the boy were off. Iwamaru could see the progress he'd made up until this point. Had he tried this stunt at the beginning of the month, the dog would have immediately outpaced him. Now, while the dog was still pulling ahead, the race was much closer, neck in neck at first, though the gap began to widen over the first quarter of the stretch.

Seeing this as a competition with a new friend, Iwamaru allowed his competitive drive to direct his actions, and he pushed his legs harder than he had at any point in time prior to this moment. The gap between the two ceased to grow over the second stretch. As they crossed the half way mark, Iwamaru just a second or so behind his lupine companion, he was running right at pace with his "opponent." The dog was still ahead, but now there was a chance to make a comeback.

At the beginning of the third part of the stretch, Iwamaru channeled deep and pulled from his considerable well of energy. Pushing the movements of his legs even more quickly, Iwamaru started to close the gap between the two of them, inch by inch. First it was five feet, then it shrunk to four feet, then it shrunk to three feet. He couldn't help the silly grin as he saw himself draw ever closer to this strange and gorgeous dog, against which he now pitted his skill and pride. As they reached the three-quarters mark, the pair were neck in neck, neither one giving ground to the other, the lead constantly changing between the two.

Going into the home stretch, a blaze suddenly ignited within Iwamaru. The competitive fire he'd lit within himself had turned into a blaze of fury and glory, and the impact it had on him was so potent that it could be considered psycho-somatic. Even his chakra seemed to shift and swell as the chakra paths in his legs opened up wider than they ever had before. The previous race that had been neck and neck ended with a blowout, Iwamaru pulling solidly ahead of his canine friend as they crossed the gateway to the administration building. Iwamaru relished in the vain sense of victory, indulging his childish side just a tad as the dog soon came up behind.

"Gas," he called, followed by "Fall in."

The dog screeched to a halt, panting happily, and returned to Iwamaru's side. Handing him the roasted pheasant as a participation prize, they both walked inside to greet his grateful master.

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Tate Iwamaru - Training Thread

Post by ShinobiTruth » Sun Aug 18, 2019 11:29 pm

Training Snapshots: Supplemental - Genjutsu, Day 1: 5061/5000

Out of all of Iwamaru's skills as a shinobi, per the norm, his competency with Genjutsu and defending against Genjutsu was, by far, his least favorite. In most Ninja villages, it's said that finding individuals proficient in Genjutsu is a serious trial, as it requires both the latent talent to skillfully manipulate Yin chakra and strategic flexibility to craft illusions potent enough to expose weakness in even the most powerful of shinobi. Such is a rare talent indeed, one that Iwamaru sadly couldn't say he had. What's more, he had little knowledge on the subject other than the most basic knowledge that he'd learned when studying back at the academy. Up to date, he'd not yet had to face off against an opponent skilled in the art of Genjutsu. When he got the missive from Mariko-sensei, he groaned, as usual. She had a way of finding the training he needed the most and giving him said training in the way he hated the most.

It was with this missive that Iwamaru headed to the archives. With the scroll he'd received, he'd be led down into a secure reading room, where the scrolls would be procured for him and brought into the room. Considering that what was in the scrolls could often be highly sensitive, all viewing of documents outside of emergency circumstances were only to be viewed in secured rooms, locked from the outside. He sat for a few minutes waiting before, with a clang, the secretary unlocked and opened the door, bringing in a single large scroll. Though he didn't show it, he marveled at the size of the scroll. This was supposed to be a text on the fundamentals of Genjutsu? He shuddered to think what a more advanced text might look like.

The genin sat down and began to unfurl the scroll as the secretary closed the door behind him with another clang and the distinct sound of gears turning and locking. Looking at the scroll, Iwamaru began to read in an undertone. "Genjutsu, or Illusionary Techniques, are techniques that utilize the Yin chakra nature to create and impose illusions and hallucinations on one's opponents. These illusions and hallucinations can be widely varied in the forms they take and their applications. They can range from simple optical illusions to powerful hallucinations that even affect one's thinking and emotional state."

That was new. Genjutsu were more than simple optical illusions? To be honest, during his time at the academy, they hadn't really focused on explaining all of the different ways that a genjutsu could be constructed. He was starting to understand why. The form a genjutsu can take could be more varied than even the most complex schools of ninjutsu, particularly because none of it was real. For young academy students, that was likely too big of a concept for them to grasp. It was better to simply teach the basics and how to defend one's self from it. Still, now that he was close to qualifying as a chuunin, Iwamaru knew that such a limited scope of knowledge on Genjutsu was no longer sufficient for his purposes. He had to learn more. He had to be ready to defend against an opponent proficient in using genjutsu. Not having that skill could literally mean life or death.

He continued to read. "In order to cast a genjutsu, three conditions must be met. First, the individual casting the genjutsu must have both a proficient level of skill in using genjutsu to cast the genjutsu they wish to use and an equivalent level of chakra control to properly impose the genjutsu into an opponent's chakra system once it has been cast. Due to this requirement, many shinobi using genjutsu often have other ninjutsu-based arsenals at their disposal to make further use of their already above-average levels of chakra control. Next, the user of the genjutsu must choose a method by which to initiate the genjutsu. While there are potentially a limitless number of ways that a shinobi using genjutsu can initiate the genjutsu, there are typically one of six different types of initiators, which shall be explained later in this text. Finally, the genjutsu itself must fall into one of a number of different subsets of illusions that the caster of the genjutsu is capable of using. More skilled users of genjutsu will, logically, have access to a greater number of classes of genjutsu as well as a greater number of ways to initiate the genjutsu in question."

Already, what seemed to be a pretty straightforward discussion of one of the three most basic forms of combat a shinobi can use in the line of duty was quickly unwinding into a crisscrossing spider's web of various different factors that one would have to consider when fighting an opponent who would seek to utilize illusions against him. There were even more pieces of information to consider now. First off, a person who was proficient in using genjutsu would also have to have at least above average chakra control. At best, this would mean that the individual casting the genjutsu was likely to last a pretty significant period of time in battle, and at worst, it meant that the opponent was likely to have an arsenal of potent ninjutsu sitting in their back pocket in case their genjutsu failed to do its job. Next, the way that a genjutsu could be initiated was not static. He'd have to learn more as he read on, but it seemed that just within the basics of genjutsu, the person proficient in the art was allowed a great deal of latitude and flexibility in how they could execute their jutsu. Iwamaru had always prided himself on his fairly sharp battle sense. He realized that that battle sense would be pushed to its limits if he were to ever face a skilled user of genjutsu on the field.

A knock on the door signaled the end of today's study session. He would have to return tomorrow to learn more.
Training Snapshots: Supplemental - Genjutsu, Day 2

Another day, another hour or so of studying in the archives. Iwamaru had always known that he lacked in-depth knowledge about genjutsu, but as usual, his teacher's odd insights exposed exactly what glaring flaws rest in his capabilities. He still wondered exactly how she knew exactly what he needed to work on when he needed to work on it. It would be creepy if his teacher weren't so aloof about almost everything at any given point of the day. Still, everything she'd instructed him to do had been for his betterment. All in all, she was still technically doing her job, and that's all Iwamaru could really ask.

He sat in the same room as last time, the very same scroll laying on the table in front of him, unfurled just a little more than it had been the previous day. He'd gotten up to the three requirements needed to cast a genjutsu, which had laid a framework upon which for him to continue his studies on the subject. The next section that he was about to start reading was touching on one of those three requirements that required more elaboration: initiating actions required to target the genjutsu. "Though the variety of ways each genjutsu can be initiated, in most cases, these genjutsu usual have one of six different types of initiators attached to them. The first, and often most commonly used, initiator is sight. A genjutsu with a sight-based initiator requires that the opponent being targeted by the genjutsu see something on the caster's person or see an action being performed in order for the person to become trapped in the genjutsu. Even small movements, such as pointing at the target, waving a hand, or having the target see you snap your fingers, are sufficient sight-based initiators for some genjutsu. Except in rare cases where the opponent is either vision-impaired or where the opponent doesn't require eyesight to fight, sight-based initiators are highly effective and, as such, are commonly used by shinobi specializing in genjutsu."

Iwamaru paused and made a mental note of this. It made sense that sight-based initiators would be most common. People lacking a certain sense either didn't last long on the field of battle or were renowned for their methods of overcoming their handicap. Based on the information he was reading, if he had reason to suspect that he was fighting a genjutsu user, it might benefit him to develop a means of fighting them that didn't involve using sight. He wasn't sure how he'd do that at the present moment, but he'd figure out a way. For now, he would move on to the next passage.

"The next most common initiator used to trap targets in genjutsu is sound. In a manner similar to sight-based initiators, sound-based initiators allow the caster of the genjutsu to use a variety of sounds or auditory cues, such as their own voice, the snapping of their fingers, or the sound of an explosion to successfully trap their opponent in an illusion of their own choosing. Being just as versatile, if not more versatile in some ways, than sight-based initiators, sound-based initiators are very common in the world of genjutsu."

Iwamaru grimaced. This also made sense, but he could reasonably argue he'd have a higher degree of difficulty with combating or evading sound-based genjutsu. Blocking off sight was one thing. It would be much more difficult to reliably defend against a sound-based genjutsu, especially considering how efficiently sound travels through the air or even liquid substances like water. Still, potentially cancelling out the noise with perhaps a louder noise could possibly interfere with a sound-based trigger that is softer or more gentle in nature. It wasn't a guarantee, he imagined, but it was something he could test out eventually. He returned his gaze to the scroll, eager to learn more.

"The remaining four initiators, while not wholly uncommon, are less common than the previous two initiators discussed. The first of these four is smell. Using some sort of technique or substance that produces odors, the caster of the genjutsu binds the illusion to the target's chakra system using their sense of smell. Though it is not impossible to initiate these genjutsu without such measures, it is not uncommon for genjutsu casters using smell-based initiators to have a genjutsu of some sort that produces a smell, scent, odor, or aroma to facilitate more easily catching the opponent in the illusion of their choosing."

Smell, huh? It was a bit nuts to consider exactly how versatile genjutsu could be. He knew that he had no skill for it, but with what he was reading now, he was seriously considering investing some time in learning even just a few basic genjutsu to add to his arsenal. Though he imagined the situations in which they'd be useful would be limited, there was no telling exactly what kinds of situations he might find himself in as a shinobi.

"The last three initiators are touch, using some form of physical contact to initiate a genjutsu; taste, using some sort of edible substance or flavor to initiate the genjutsu, and sensory-based, or using an opponent's ability to sense the caster's chakra as a medium to initiate the genjutsu. All of these initiators tend to be more highly specialized, either due to their complexity or the inherent risk that comes with using them. NOTE: these are simply the most basic of initiators. Custom initiators can be made to more closely align with a shinobi's strategies."

Iwamaru nodded. Again, the premise seemed so simple that he was ashamed that he'd neglected to fully internalize this information back at the academy. Some of these initiators, particularly touch and sensory-based triggers, required that you potentially be within your opponent's range in order to initiate said genjutsu. Considering that it was especially rare to find people skilled in both genjutsu and taijutsu, it was fair to say that most genjutsu-based shinobi were likely mid-long range fighters, preferring to wear their opponent's down mentally from a distance rather than fight up close. The last bit also had him curious. What kinds of initiators could a person make? He'd have to find out tomorrow; a knock on the door signaled his time was up.
Training Snapshots: Supplemental - Genjutsu, Day 3

For the first two days, Iwamaru had forced himself to come to the archives to comply with Mariko-sensei's missives. Now, however, he was eager. He realized that if he didn't have someone to kick him out of his comfort zone, he was afraid of trying new things. Damn her perceptiveness. It frustrated him that his vision of self was so narrow and clouded that he couldn't realize these things about himself. He had to be more honest with himself on things, lest he let himself become stunted in his growth. Good shinobi were flexible, adaptable, logical, and shrewd. He needed to emulate that mentality.

For now, however, he had to be more knowledgeable about genjutsu. Yesterday, he had covered the most basic of initiators. Next in the manual was the actual types of illusions themselves. There was a laundry list to go over. It seemed daunting at first, but Iwamaru was certain that if he took the process one step at a time that he would grasp the material at the end of it all. "There are four main types of genjutsu or illusions that can be cast upon an individual. The first type of genjutsu is Illusion-type Genjutsu. Illusion Genjutsu, as the name implies, creates a hallucination that is meant to trick one of the five senses. Though not very powerful at lower ranks, Illusion Genjutsu can be very useful in feeding enemies false information and distorting their ability to soundly make decisions in the midst of battle. Especially when dealing with Illusion Genjutsu, the less obvious the illusion or hallucination is, the more effective it tends to be. Even Chakra senses can be deceived by these kinds of genjutsu."

Iwamaru paused. He had been meditating on what kinds of simple genjutsu he could construct for his own use that wouldn't immediately be passed off as a genjutsu. He never planned on specializing in the art, but having a few pocket genjutsu could be useful. He wondered if some simple, practical illusions, like making the opponent taste blood in their mouth, could be useful in making the enemy think they've taken damage and force them into unnecessary combat positions. Or perhaps make them experience a ringing in their ear after hearing the sound of a nearby explosion to hinder their hearing. He would jot down some ideas on the way home from his study session today. "There are two additional sub-types of Illusion Genjutsu that need to be explained further. The first are Sensory Control Illusions. Sensory Control Illusions, as the name implies, are hallucinations that give the caster of the genjutsu complete control over one of the opponent's six senses (sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste, chakra sense). Multiple Sensory Control Illusions can be imposed upon an opponent, but each one, due to how complex crafting the illusions can be, must be their own separate jutsu. What's more, the more genjutsu that a person has imposed upon their person, the more obvious the illusions tend to become. Those planning to cultivate their skills with Genjutsu should keep this fact in mind when planning their jutsu arsenal."

Iwamaru nodded. He wasn't certain if it would be beneficial in his case to consider making use of one of those kinds of genjutsu. For now, he'd stick with the original plan and use simple illusions that could be mistaken for realistic causes and effects in the middle of combat. Once he had a better understanding of Genjutsu as a whole, he would revisit the subject. "The other are Illusions of Force. These are genjutsu that have the capacity to trick the opponent into thinking they are bound. Their deceived perceptions enforce the notion that they are actually being bound, and thus their movements become inhibited. These types of Illusion Genjutsu are only possible in the hands of a person especially skilled in the arts of Genjutsu and manipulating Yin chakra. Note that, aside from Kai, a sufficiently strong opponent can break out of these techniques as well."

Iwamaru grinned. That last line, in particular, was good to see. Even if it was only in a limited manner, his focus on training his Strength would provide some defense against Genjutsu. He had to make sure not to take that for granted, however. In all of the studying he'd done, he'd found exactly one situation where it would be useful. He had to move forward with the understanding that such would likely be the rule, not the exception.

Iwamaru moved on to the next passage. "The second type of genjutsu is Status Genjutsu. Unlike Illusions, which focus on what the brain perceives, the purpose of Status Genjutsu is to interfere with how the brain thinks and processes thought, memories, or emotions. Placing an opponent under a Status Genjutsu is almost akin to a post-hypnotic suggestion, manufactured inception, a seed planted in the fertile soil of the opponent's paranoia to take root and overgrow like lethal weeds or parasitic fungi. The complexity of Status Genjutsu prevents novice practitioners from being able to craft them. Only those who already possess some level of skill or experience are capable of making use of this type of genjutsu."

The genin had to admit that this passage startled him. Messing with his senses was one thing. How was he supposed to defend against something that could literally insert fabricated thoughts into his own head? Iwamaru wondered if there were certain types of mental conditionings that could help protect him from involuntary deviations in his thought process. They obviously wouldn't be perfect, but perhaps they could stave off the worst of the effects of Status Genjutsu. He read on further. "Sleep Genjutsu, a type of Status Genjutsu, can be extremely potent if used in the right situation. However, there is a period of time where the opponent has the opportunity to recognize the ruse of the illusion and release themselves from it. Even shinobi with relatively little training in Genjutsu can break free of Sleep Genjutsu."

Iwamaru had just enough time to jot down that note before he heard a knocking on the door. It seemed that his time was up for today.
Training Snapshots: Supplemental - Genjutsu, Day 4

Alright, day four was already here. Iwamaru had made certain to bring a snack and some water. The secretary had recognized him and only briefly checked the missive before leading him to the study room. She'd already prepared the scroll for his viewing, as the scroll was already on the table when he entered the room. Pleased with this development, he sat down and immediately resumed his studies. He'd only been able to cover two of the four types of genjutsu most commonly used in battle last time. There'd been a considerable wealth of information to consider from just those two entries. Iwamaru was curious to see what else this art had to offer.

Locating where he left off in the scroll, Iwamaru resumed reading. "The third type of genjutsu, often the most confusing and arguably the most potent of the four types of genjutsu, is Overlay Genjutsu. Overlay Genjutsu create an entirely new world within the mind of the victim of the genjutsu, distorting their perception of the very passage of time itself. Because of how quickly these type of genjutsu expire, lasting only a split second in the real world, it is nigh impossible for an opponent to escape an Overlay Genjutsu they've become trapped in. They are forced to bear the full mental brunt of the assault placed on their minds. One's ability to defend against an Overlay Genjutsu is determined entirely on their proficiency in Genjutsu. It is a powerful tool against anyone foolish enough to completely neglect their training in Genjutsu and can sometimes determine the outcome of a battle outright. Due to their complexity, Overlay Genjutsu cannot be performed by those who do not dedicate themselves to the study of Genjutsu, nor are lower rank versions of Overlay Genjutsu even possible. The level of skill in Genjutsu, Chakra Control, and perceptiveness required to use even the most basic of Overlay Genjutsu exclude those too indecisive to choose the path of Illusion Arts as their main weapon."

Iwamaru understood the premise from a baseline level, but he knew that he'd need to experience one of these kinds of genjutsu personally. The realization filled him with trepidation, but he knew that without experiencing it himself, he'd have no way of knowing what it was like beforehand... and for something so powerful, that could mean a death sentence if he first encountered it on the field of battle. At least in the village, he wasn't likely to die from getting hit by it. He started thinking about where he might find someone skilled enough to use such a powerful genjutsu before remembering that he worked with the most elite organization in the village. If there was anyone that knew something about Overlay Genjutsu, he could most certainly find them at the Jousai headquarters. With that small piece of his itinerary squared away, Iwamaru continued. on with the next section of text.

"The fourth and final type of genjutsu is Warp Genjutsu. In theory, these are much simpler than the third type of Genjutsu, Overlay. They are simply the fusion of Illusion Genjutsu and Status Genjutsu into a single technique. In summary, they are hallucinations that both trick one or more of the opponent's senses and also impose certain thoughts or feelings on the opponent's mind involuntarily. In practice, these are the most difficult of genjutsu to both create and use. Aside from the appropriate level of skill in Genjutsu, Warp Genjutsu also require significantly higher levels of chakra control than most other types of genjutsu. While the most basic of Warp Genjutsu can be utilized by anyone who is proficient enough in the art of Genjutsu, any Warp Genjutsu of the more advanced caliber require one to devote themselves wholly to the study and practice of genjutsu techniques. Warp Genjutsu, due to their nature, can be very versatile in their application."

Iwamaru paused, jotting down notes in his own journal. So considering what he had reviewed so far, he'd been able to reach a number of conclusions. First off, he was most definitely not going to specialize in Genjutsu as a skill. He knew that focusing on his primary talents would be more important. However, he had to make sure that he did not neglect the art entirely. Especially considering that some level of defending against all genjutsu techniques relied on his own competency with genjutsu itself. In a limited number of applications, he would also need some genjutsu of his own to use against opponents. Instead of relying on power for those genjutsu, however, he would have to make them supplementary genjutsu, things that could be mistaken for actual occurrences in intense battle situations. He would also need to expose himself to at least one Overlay Genjutsu, in order for his body to remember the sensation and experience of being in a situation where time is so sharply dilated. Additionally, he would have to develop his critical thinking skills and problem-solving skills. It seemed that part of defense against genjutsu techniques comes with quickly recognizing their nature. He'd been taught the basics of how to break out of the most basic of genjutsu techniques in the academy, but he understood how much further he had to understand beyond the basics if he wanted to be fully prepared to engage in combat against a Genjutsu Specialist. He could not afford to have a narrow or linear strategy. He would have to find ways to either prevent the Genjutsu Specialist from using genjutsu in the first place or prevent the use of common initiators. Perhaps he could investigate burrowing techniques? That would cover both sight and sound right from the get-go. Iwamaru also wondered if certain types of mental conditioning could possibly serve as a defense against genjutsu cast on him. It was certainly a possiblity worth investigating.

A knock on the door signaled that his time was up. He looked at the scroll and jotted down where he was leaving off. It seemed that the only thing left to cover would be the various ways of how to break out of a genjutsu technique... the normal ways, at least. In order to find new ways to deal with genjutsu, he had to have a firm grasp on the fundamentals first.
Training Snapshots: Supplemental - Genjutsu, Day 4

Alright, this was it. The last day of his assigned research period. He'd learned a lot about genjutsu over the last four days. Now was honestly more of a review of what he'd learned in the academy, but he hoped that he'd learn a bit more in-depth about the traditional methods of escaping or combating genjutsu. It was from this information that he hoped he might develop some methods more suited to his own style of fighting. He wasn't likely to be able to simply dispel every illusion he came across. Just like the people using the genjutsu techniques against him, Iwamaru would have to get creative.

Finding where he'd last left off as the metal door closed behind him, Iwamaru began to read. "There are three ways in which a person targeted by a genjutsu technique can defend themselves or dispel the technique imposed upon them. The first and most basic of these defensive tools is Kai. Kai is a technique that momentarily halts and jumpstarts one's flow of chakra in the body. By interrupting the flow of chakra, the enemy's chakra imposed upon you is expelled forcefully from the body and dissipates. This act ends the illusion immediately. While weaker genjutsu techniques can be dispelled with even a modicum of training, the difficulty of dispelling genjutsu techniques placed upon an opponent practically scales exponentially. As such, those not specializing in Genjutsu should either have at least a decent level of skill in genjutsu solely for defense, or they should have another contingency ready to deal with Genjutsu Specialists."

The necessity of a contingency was obvious in Iwamaru's eyes, but he didn't realize that the level of skill needed to break out of a genjutsu technique using Kai wasn't a linear correlation. He'd have to give that some thought, especially as he took on more dangerous missions. He would need to have a multi-layered defense against this particular weak spot. Understanding most certainly helped, but that was only half the battle.

The boy continued reading. "The second option, while most certainly risky, is arguably just as effective, if not more effective in certain circumstances, in breaking a genjutsu technique that has a hold over a target. This is to forcibly lose consciousness. By momentarily losing consciousness, the brain ceases all non-vital functions, which will immediately dispel the illusion. An inactive brain cannot be held captive by an illusion it cannot physically perceive. The risks that come with this method of breaking genjutsu are obvious. Losing control of one's faculties and thoughts in the midst of an intense battle situation can spell death if executed poorly. This option should only be considered if the individual using it to break a genjutsu has a way to cover or defend themselves while they are unconscious. Needless to say, this requires serious forethought and preparation."

Iwamaru pursed his lips. It's true that such a channel was risky... but it was an elegant and simple method for rendering an opponent's technique almost useless. It was also a good way to escape the mental damage normally caused by genjutsu. Perhaps he could develop a technique once he had greater control of his body? That was certainly an idea. He would have to discuss the possibilities with Mariko-sensei. She would likely have some ideas for him. He moved onto the final passages of the scroll: "The last method, the most costly of methods to break a genjutsu, is to inflict a sufficient level of pain on one's self to break the genjutsu. Physical trauma and pain can disrupt the chakra system violently enough to cause the opponent's chakra, imposed by the genjutsu, to become expelled and to dissipate. NOTE: In the vast majority of cases, this should only be used as a last resort. Inflicting unnecessary wounds upon one's self in the field of battle inherently puts one at a disadvantage. This is especially true for higher-level genjutsu, as the amount of pain required to escape these genjutsu becomes so dangerously high that one may risk death simply with the act of inflicting the damage upon themselves. While this can be a conditionally acceptable option for lower-ranked genjutsu techniques, it should never be anything other than an absolute last resort, if defeat or death are otherwise unavoidable without pursuing this option."

Iwamaru rolled up the scroll as he pondered on the last clause in the scroll. The third option was useful information to know, but he would have to seriously consider in what circumstances he would even think of using such an option. He hoped that he didn't find himself in a situation where he couldn't either kai out of the technique or force himself to go unconscious, but he knew that he'd ultimately have to be prepared. It didn't say it wasn't an option; instead, it was merely listed as the last option.

All in all, his studies had given him much to consider. It was amazing to see how even just a small amount of information could really widen his perspective. He had so much more to think about now. For the first and only time this week, he walked out before his time was up. It was his parting gift to the secretary... for now at least. He suspected that he and this room would likely have a long and intimate relationship as he grew on his path as a shinobi. Now...

...To find someone who knew about Overlay Genjutsu... His stomach churned at the thought.

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ShinobiTruth
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Tate Iwamaru - Training Thread

Post by ShinobiTruth » Tue Aug 20, 2019 1:12 pm

Jutsu Being PracticedShow
Doton • Instant Exit <===== Day 1
D-Ranked Ninjutsu
After performing the necessary hand seals, Iwamaru channels Doton chakra into any location with five (5) meters of his person, including terrain created by his own Doton techniques. A passageway is created that is ten (10) feet high, five (5) feet wide, and up to ten (10) meters deep. This passageway is created at a speed of six (6). This technique cannot be used against structures or terrain infused with an opponent's chakra that has a higher Control than Iwamaru.

Doton • Stone Grenade <===== Day 2
D-Ranked Ninjutsu
After performing the necessary hand seals, Iwamaru plunges his hand into the ground and pulls out a small stone roughly three (3) inches in diameter, filled with unstable Doton chakra. At the end of the post, or until it makes contact with an opponent or surface, the stone will explode with the strength of five (5).

Doton • Basic Sundered Domain <===== Day 3
D-Ranked Ninjutsu
After performing the necessary hand seals, Iwamaru channels Doton chakra into a five (5) meter area around his person, including stone and concrete terrain or structures. The stability of the ground/terrain is weakened. If Iwamaru punches or stomps on the ground with five (5) strength or greater, the ground will break apart, rasing small slabs of earth and rock around him. Each of these slabs has a strength of five (5). This technique cannot be used against structures or terrain infused with an opponent's chakra.

Doton • Gaia Boost <===== Day 4
D-Ranked Ninjutsu
After performing the necessary hand seals, a small one (1) foot wide, two (2) foot long pedestal will shoot from the ground anywhere within five meters of Iwamaru's position with a strength of five (5) and a speed of five (5). If Iwamaru uses this technique to jump, it will increase his strength for the purposes of determining the height/distance his jump covers by five (5).
Training Snapshots: Supplemental - Ninjutsu, Day 1 (Instant Exit): 5128/5000

Alright, something Iwamaru was actually comfortable with. He definitely enjoyed ninjutsu training more than most other types of training. That and Strength training were the subjects that came most naturally to the boy.

When he'd first found out that he had Doton as his primary chakra nature affinity, he was actually disappointed. He'd figured that for a person as physically imposing as he could be, a more offensive element suited him, one that would counter-balance his natural bulk and endurance. Yet, with patience, his teachers showed him that Doton suited one with a more flexible mind such as he was and those that were creative in their application and use of Doton would be rewarded with a versatile and effective toolkit. He embraced Doton's versatile nature and despite his techniques not necessarily packing the hardest of punches, Iwamaru wound up having arguably the most unique toolset out of any of his classmates, supplemented by his monstrous strength for a child of his age. He still remembered the day he literally took the feet out from under one of his classmates with the technique he was going to practice today: Instant Exit. The look on his face was priceless.

Instant Exit was great for discreet infiltration of enemy fortifications and as a quick movement option on the battlefield, but it had its limits. As Iwamaru tended to use the technique to create pathways underground, he was always playing on a wire's edge. The boy had never experienced a cave-in, thankfully, but even with his level of strength presently, he wasn't certain he'd survive one if it ever occurred. As such, he needed to become more proficient at weaving handseals and casting the technique more quickly than he could right now. For now, he started with a single use of the technique at his present max speed. This would serve as an analog, a point of comparison against which he could measure his progress. As he made the seals, the path opened up before him, creating a trench in the ground matching the parameters of the technique: a ten-meter long trench that was ten feet deep and five feet wide. Jumping down into the trench, he reviewed the exercise. The premise was simple. He would have to keep casting the technique repeatedly as he ran, doing his best to not faceplant into a wall. He knew that his physical movement speed was much faster than his ability to weave seals. So, for now, he'd increase his speed incrementally.

Breaking into a jog, he began to weave the handseals for Instant Exit, watching as the end of the trench began to swell in his vision. He managed to cast the first repetition of the technique with a few meters to spare, the next ten-meter stretch opening before his eyes. Repeating the same process without stopping, Iwamaru cast the technique again, this time with only a meter and a half of clearance left before the wall when he finished it, the chakra rushing out of him and opening the pathway further. Still, he pressed onward, pushing his hands to move faster, for his chakra to mold faster. The third repetition of the technique he managed to finish a mere few feet before he would have run smack dab into a wall of dirt. He attempted to weave the seals for a fourth iteration of the technique, but two-thirds of the way through weaving the seals, Iwamaru realized he would fail. Skidding to a stop before he wound up literally slamming himself into a wall.

Climbing out of the trench, Iwamaru observed his handiwork. He needed to be able to cast the technique no fewer than five times before he considered this training session over. He couldn't use this technique alone for his training, as he needed to have more experience with quickly weaving a variety of handseals for his training to be effective. Moving fifteen meters off to the right of his original starting position, Iwamaru weaved the handseals for the technique as fast as he could manage. He felt his hands getting faster, but they weren't quite at the level he was looking for. Dropping back into the trench, he prepped himself for another brisk jog down the trench, reviewing his goal. He was already a good portion of the way there. He needed to just be a little bit faster for this exercise to be complete. He already had managed to cast the technique three times after the start. Casting the technique five times wasn't much of a stretch at his level. For a moment, Iwamaru was still, almost as if forcing himself to wait for an unseen opportunity. In reality, he was simply psyching himself up for the task that lay before him.

Digging his feet into the ground, he launched forward, quickly jogging towards the end of the tunnel. Pushing his hands to move faster, Iwamaru weaved the handseals for the technique. Unlike the first attempt, he managed to complete the first jutsu with at least five meters to spare on his brisk jog down the initial ten-meter stretch. He did not relent or take his progress for granted, however. This training exercise was still active for him. Without missing a beat, Iwamaru continued to weave the seals and mold chakra to direct into the earth in front of him in the trench, bending the soil and dirt to his will. The second iteration of the technique in the second trench was executed, Iwamaru still having four meters of clearance as the trench expanded in front of him further. He was excited to see how quickly he was improving. Remaining focused on the exercise at hand, Iwamaru began to weave the seals and mold the chakra he'd need for the third iteration of the technique. His timing on weaving the seals was improving, as he still had three meters of space to cover between his location and the end of the current trench before a new portion opened in front of him, small beads of sweat forming on his brow as he continued his training. It was in the second run that he managed, at the end of it all, to cast the technique at least five times. He almost managed to cast the technique a sixth time, but he had to stop just two seals before the end of the technique as he avoided clocking himself with a wall full of soil and rocks.

Alright, on to the next training for today...
Training Snapshots: Supplemental - Ninjutsu, Day 2 (Instant Exit)

Iwamaru was definitely more inventive with the utility aspects of Doton techniques. When it came to offense, however, he struggled just a tad. It was likely due to the fact that he focused on providing the offense with his own strength, but it was still a shortfall in his arsenal that he would soon be correcting. In order to do so, however, he needed to become more proficient with ninjutsu first. To that end, his second day of ninjutsu training would involve using one of the few offensive techniques he had in his playbook: Stone Grenade.

It was a simple, yet elegant technique. Instead of relying on his chakra for the launching speed, he simply took the item into his own hands and launched it at a speed equal to his Strength. It still was only as good as your average exploding tag, but its speed was several times faster than he could manage with chakra alone. He remembered it was one of the techniques that had been responsible for him passing the final exam in the academy. His classmate, a ninjutsu prodigy, had suspected that his skill with ninjutsu would help overpower the seemingly oafish brute Iwamaru was from a distance. In reality, Iwamaru was able to overcome the classmate's techniques with this very same technique he was training now.

His objective was fairly simple. He would cast the technique as many times as physically possible with a ten-second window of time. He started with his control set, weaving the seals as fast as he could presently without worrying about messing up the seals. In the time frame allotted, Iwamaru found he was able to successfully cast the technique two times, with not much room for much else. He wanted to elevate that number at least up to three, if not possibly four. He suspected that four was likely an overestimation of his growth, but he would push for it nonetheless. Tossing the two grenades away, they each exploded when they hit the ground, well outside of the range where they could be considered a threat. With the stage set, Iwamaru leaped into action, his hands flying into a frenzy. About three and a half seconds into his time, he completed the first iteration of the technique and immediately began to weave the seals for another. About seven seconds in, the second iteration was completed, pulling the second grenade from the ground. As he continued trying to weave the seals for the third technique, his timer rang. He clearly wasn't there yet. His weaving of handseals was accurate, but it was still too slow. He had to be quicker. Tossing the two grenades he'd pulled from the ground far away from his training space, he waited for their explosions, using those as a signal to start. Hearing the crackle and boom of the two stone bombs exploding, Iwamaru began anew, his hands becoming more and more like a blur. This time, it was within three seconds that he managed to cast the first repetition of the technique. Immediately starting to form the seal for the second, Iwamaru kept up the pace. Within six seconds, the second iteration of the technique was fully executed as he pulled the second small stone from his hand. The pressure was on as he rushed to complete the third set of handseals within the remaining time. Nine seconds came, and he managed to finish the technique, getting the third stone in hand as the time expired. Looking in his hands, he was satisfied to see the three perfectly round stones brimming with his unstable Doton chakra nestled in his palm. He was glad that his primary goal had been accomplished. With that said, he was surprised that he had finished so quickly. Iwamaru, studious as he was, had actually managed to underestimate his capacity for growth and learning this time around. Perhaps...

Perhaps four executions of Stone Grenade in a ten-second window wasn't as preposterous of a notion as he had once imagined? There was really only one way to find out, wasn't there?

He now had his new objective in mind: four executions of the Stone Grenade technique within a ten-second timeframe. It wouldn't be easy, to be certain. The genin would have to weave his handseals even more crisply than he had before. Still, there was very little point in entertaining his self-doubt or procrastinating. He had a job to do, and he would get it done. Starting the next attempt, Iwamaru clenched his teeth as he focused firmly on weaving the handseals as quickly and as accurately as possible. The first iteration of the technique was done in a little under three seconds. Not fast enough. He continued pressing forward, urging his fingers and hands to work even harder, even faster. The second iteration of the technique was completed at about five and a half seconds. His forearms began to strain under the harsh and quick movements that Iwamaru was forcing them through. He carried on, ignoring the sensation. The third iteration of the technique was finished at the eight-second mark. Though he was certain he wouldn't make the fourth repetition of the technique within the time, he pushed his hardest to do so. Sure enough, he still had three seals to weave by the time the buzzer rang. He wasn't quite there, but he was close. Iwamaru could feel success just ever so slightly out of his reach, and it was most certainly attainable. Throwing the grenades, he waited for the explosions to ring out. He listened intently to the silence until it was punctured by the concussive waves of the Stone Grenades that he had previously produced in his last run. His hands flew into a frenzy of motion, almost blurred to an untrained eye. His first repetition of the technique was finished in about two and a half seconds. It was better than his last attempt, and this success pushed him further forward, his momentum carrying his hands through the motions of weaving the intricate handseals like water through a quiet river. The second instance of the technique was completed at just shy of five seconds. A small bead of sweat began to form on Iwamaru's brow. The cramps in his hands were getting worse, but he pushed forward, refusing to concede control of his hands to pain. The third repetition of the technique was completed at exactly seven and a half seconds. He'd lost a small portion of his time. It was vital that he complete the fourth iteration of the technique before the timer rang and ended the run. In a final burst of determination and coordination, Iwamaru weaved the necessary seals for the fourth repetition of Stone Grenade. The timer rang right as he pulled the small stone from the ground. He'd managed to do what he'd thought impossible for him just at the beginning of that training session.

With a large smile, he threw the small, explosive stones with all his might. He allowed himself a moment to relish in his success, the exploding stones the closest he'd get to applause.
Training Snapshots: Supplemental - Ninjutsu, Day 3 (Sundered Domain)

This technique, despite arguably being one of the most important techniques in Iwamaru's arsenal, carried with it strangely bitter memories. It was a product of better times long since past, a reminiscent image of what was and would likely never be again.

This technique had been created with his father's help.

Back when his father still had his emotional stability, he had a more involved role in Iwamaru's training. While he could be overbearing and strict at times, it was also quite evident that he had great faith in his son as a father would. His father so readily saw the potential in him that he often struggled to find. Despite how much he had resented those moments when he was younger and more naive... he now wished that things could be as simple as they had been at the birth of this technique.

Shaking his head, Iwamaru's objective for this technique was much different than his training before. Unlike with the previous two days, he would only cast the technique once for each attempt he would make. This wasn't the type of technique that he would be executing in rapid succession in a real combat situation... or at least not in any real combat situation that he could fathom at the present moment. Instead, he would be aiming the window of time necessary to execute the technique and make it ready to deploy, a much more likely situation he would find himself in while on a mission. This technique itself would allow him access to a number of projectiles he could throw at his full strength, lending further to the effectiveness of the technique. As with all of the other techniques, he would start by casting the technique at his fastest comfortable speed. While he did this, he found himself surprised at how his training previously was already having an impact on what he was capable of now. He was certain that he would have taken longer to cast the technique at the beginning of this five-day training course. He clocked himself at two and a half seconds on his initial attempt. Though that wasn't too terribly long, he knew he could do better. He was going to try and get the time down to one second flat. He imagined this would take a number of tries, but he would simply have to keep at it until he eventually got the process down to pure muscle reflex.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling, Iwamaru focused on the images of the seals in his head. Having proper visualization would be important in this particular activity. If he was doing this right, he'd be able to cast the technique and throw one slab in approximately one and a quarter seconds. His eyes snapping open, his fingers flew together as they weaved the seals for the technique. He felt the chakra flow out of him and, with a stomp, Iwamaru caused the ground to shatter, producing several thin slabs of rock. Reflexively reaching for one of the slabs, he took it in hand and, ripping it from the ground, threw it with all of his might. He took a look at the timer.

It read two and a half seconds.

Iwamaru pursed his lips. It was still faster than his original estimate, but he certainly had a long way to go. He meditated on what he might have done wrong. After a few minutes of meditation, Iwamaru settled on a section of seals that he realized were slowing him down. He returned to that section of three seals and started to practice weaving them over and over again, trying to tighten the execution on that particular sequence of handseals. Eventually, after five minutes of practice, he felt he had it down. With that practice completed, Iwamaru thought it best to relocate to another portion of the training field before his next attempt. The nature of the technique left the area of effect rather cluttered if he didn't use all of the slabs that the technique produced, and having a clean work environment was important. Taking another deep breath and exhaling, Iwamaru once again focused on the image of the string of handseals in his mind's eye, slowly giving himself over to the intense focus that this training required. Yet again, his eyes snapped open, and as he began weaving the handseals needed for the Sunken Domain technique, Iwamaru could feel that already, his execution was becoming quicker, more efficient and less clumsy. The marginal increase in his dexterity and coordination worked wonders as his fingers seemed to more easily flow between the seals. Even as he improved, however, he was able to recognize areas where he could still improve further, noticing a small gap in his rhythm between two particular handseals. Stomping the ground and throwing one of the rock slabs after completing the second iteration of the technique, Iwamaru checked his time again.

It read one and a half seconds. A marked improvement from his last attempt, but it still wasn't the goal he was shooting for.

He had to shave off about a quarter of second off of his time still, but Iwamaru was certain that with practicing the transition between those two seals he'd felt slip during the last attempt would get him the time mark he was looking for. Moving away from the area where he'd just executed the technique again, Iwamaru practiced the two seals over and over again. After another five minutes of practice, he felt that he'd gotten the transition between the two seals smooth enough that he could reach the goal he was shooting for this time around. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he didn't give himself any more time than necessary to visualize the execution of the technique. His eyes snapped open one more time, and his hands flew into action, Iwamaru's face intense with focus as the technique was completed and, with a stomp, Iwamaru grabbed one of the slabs and immediately tossed it forward with all of his strength. Iwamaru checked his time again.

The timer read one second flat.

He blinked before smiling. He had managed to even beat his time by a small amount, let alone beat it. That was certainly an encouraging sign for the last two days of training he had in front of him.
Training Snapshots: Supplemental - Ninjutsu, Day 4 (Gaia Boost)

Well, this training setup was an interesting change of pace. Instead of a long, flat field, the genin was encountered with two large walls from side to side. Returning to the roots of his heavy utility arsenal of Doton techniques, Iwamaru was going to train using solely Gaia Boost today. Gaia Boost was a technique he had devised when he'd been repeatedly losing against a fairly fleet of foot classmate in sparring matches during his academy days. He and the young girl were equal in terms of speed, and as such, Iwamaru could never fully close the gap by the time she'd worn him down with blow after blow from her long-range techniques and thrown weapons. In hindsight, the very first match he'd busted this technique out against her had been just slightly over-kill. He'd actually already managed to corner her in one section of the sparring ring, and in a state of desperation, she threw out a smoke bomb to try and slip past Iwamaru to claim the topographical advantage once more. He waited for her to emerge from the smoke and used this technique to tackle her.

The objective was simple and complex all at once. He simply had to use Gaia Boost to climb to a platform approximately thirty meters up off the ground... but he had to do so by jumping between the walls, which were far enough apart that he couldn't do so with merely his base speed alone. He would need the extra distance and acceleration provided by Gaia Boost to accomplish this task. Iwamaru took a few minutes to plan his strategy for completing this challenge. He'd need to weave the seals for the technique as fast as he possibly could, or else he would lose his moment over time. This was arguably the trickiest training Mariko-sensei had assigned him in recent member. Perhaps this was due to how close he was to reaching the qualifications for his Chuunin Exam. Though he'd thought to simply not say anything, he let his father know that he would be submitting his candidacy soon, leaving the note on his nightstand. He'd not heard from him since he'd left the note.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Iwamaru commenced with the exercise. Running towards one wall at full speed, he started weaving the seals before jumping and twisting his body in order to firmly plant his feet against the wall. As he finished the seals, Iwamaru felt the earth from the wall pushing him up and away, and he used the technique to vault from that wall to the next, the sound of rushing wind partially deafening him as he continued to weave seals, preparing to make contact with the opposite wall. Once again, he finished the technique as he twisted his body and felt his chakra reach out into the earthen surface of the wall. Not a few moments after his feet landed, he could feel the rumble and the push of the small stone pedestal quickly jutting out of the wall to propel him forward and up towards the first wall he'd just left moments ago. Despite only using the technique twice, he'd managed to already clear the first ten meters of the thirty-meter climb.

There was no time to think, no time to congratulate himself for his efforts, no time to reflect on what he could be doing better. He had to act decisively. Even if this were a training exercise, any failure here wouldn't simply involve doing this whole entire exercise over. He was already ten meters up, and while he was a tough young lad, even he wasn't certain if he could take a ten-meter drop and still walk away from it unscathed, let along twenty or twenty-five meters. He remained focused on the task at hand, continuing to weave handseals without skipping a beat, watching with a small amount of trepidation as he flew closer and closer to the tall stone wall that would either serve as his footstool towards success or crush his hopes and dreams... not to mention probably break a few bones. Finishing the seals right on time, he twisted his body and felt the soles of his feet land roughly on the earthen surface, only for him to torque his muscles and launch himself off of it with the help of the rock launching pad that had suddenly erupted from the wall. There was a certain exhilaration he felt from flying through the air like this, only his wit and skill between himself and a precipitous plunge into the same earth that he commanded. He was still fairly surprised that he didn't receive Wind Nature chakra affinity along with Earth Nature chakra affinity. He certainly loved being in the air despite not having its blessing. Weaving the appropriate seals, Iwamaru once again felt the Doton chakra flow from him as he rotated his body and felt his feet solidly planted on the stone wall for but a split moment before the earth itself extended its small finger and flung him back into the sky. He was now twenty meters through his thirty-meter journey.

It was at this point when he realized that the walls actually flared out slightly. He forced himself to be calm. He was certain that if he fell from this distance, he would seriously injure himself, and it was vital that he remain calm. It meant that the rest of his executions had to be perfect from this point on. He couldn't afford to make a single mistake. Quickly weaving the seals necessary for the Gaia Boost technique, Iwamaru pivoted his body and made contact with the wall. He realized that he would have to execute the technique even more exactly than he had been before. If he waited too much later after he made contact with the wall, at best he wouldn't gain any more altitude, and at worst he'd begin to lose height. He'd also been using the technique quite a lot during this training session, more than he had during any other of his training sessions. The sweat beginning to form on his back was proof of this. He realized that for all of the other training this week, he'd not had to sweat much to improve. He smirked in spite of the circumstances. This was his sensei's way of keeping him humble. Adjusting his timing, Iwamaru weaved the appropriate handseals yet again for Gaia Boost, snapping his legs and making contact with the stone pedestal just as it began to rise out of the wall. He flew through the air, and though he was still gaining altitude, he recognized that he wasn't gaining as much height as he was in the previous twenty-meter stretch between the two massive walls. All in all, his rate of progression was cut in half. He acknowledged that fact and moved on. Focusing too much on what had been taken away from him would distract him from what he still had, and what he still had was progress. The wind began to get stronger as he got higher up towards the top of the walls, which kept him cool, but he could feel the chakra fatigue starting to slightly creep in. Though he had as much stamina as your average chuunin, even a chuunin might face some level of exhaustion after casting so many techniques in a row in such a short span of time. He had to keep pressing on. This level of perseverance was a bare minimum for a chuunin. Weaving the seals once more, he pivoted his body and vaulted himself off of yet another stone pedestal. It was during this particular leap that he crossed twenty-five meters. He was almost finished with climbing the full thirty meters, a feat he'd not thought possible with his current strength. Only five more meters to go, and he would be done.

His lungs began to burn as the chakra fatigue continued to sap away from his energy. The tough genin pushed onward, forming the seals necessary for the next jump he was going to have to execute. The muscles in his legs were beginning to become sore from the constant exertion and recoil of slamming into the walls at a slightly upward position. The G-forces placed on one's legs were already impressive from even modest heights, and pushing with enough force to not only push against gravity but to also collide and resist against a hard surface with gravity pushing down on one's bones was even tougher. Making the seals again, he saw the next wall approaching quickly, realizing that if he didn't make this jump, he might very well risk death. He could try catching himself on the wall with his hands, but he was already exhausted, and he wasn't certain his chakra would hold under such strenuous circumstances. Before he was done with the thought, however, his hands were already finished with executing the seals for the technique and his body was already twisting to position himself for the oncoming jump. By reflex, he pushed off the stone pedestal yet again, flinging himself into the air as he inched closer and closer to the top with each successive jump. He soon realized that with this next jump, he would be close enough to the top of the wall to make it to the platform, which marked the end of this grueling training exercise. Anticipation mixed with relief to create a very intense, short burst of urgency, his hands already weaving the seals for the last time in the exercise as his body sluggishly twisted to position itself at the very top of the wall. The stone pillar jutted out with the same, consistent force it always had, launching the now fatigued genin straight at the platform. Tucking his knees as he reached the platform's edge, Iwamaru planted his feet firmly on the surface, standing tall for a brief moment before he rolled down and onto his back, panting from exhaustion. It was with a toothy grin that he finally allowed himself to catch his breath. All in all, he'd improved considerably in his ability to use ninjutsu over the past four days, and considering this had been the last exercise on Mariko-sensei's list, he had finished a day earlier than she'd likely expected him to. He would take the next days to rest... and then, he'd start preparing for the Chuunin exam. He had the sensation that it would be the mark of greater things to come.

If only things would have been so easy...

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Tate Iwamaru - Training Thread

Post by ShinobiTruth » Mon Aug 26, 2019 10:19 pm

Daily Training Logs: Supplementary - Stamina, 5 Points: 5048/5000

Day 1 - Cleaning Boulders


Iwamaru had formally put in his request for his Chuunin Exam and was awaiting the results of his request. He wasn't about to sit on his laurels and twiddle his thumbs like a bored child, however. He would make use of the time and further prepare himself for the exam. There were plenty of ways to do so, and one way he thought to do so was to increase his chakra reserves. He suspected that the opponent he would face in the exam would not simply be some run of the mill chuunin, fresh off the factory line. He had to consider the possibility that this individual had some techniques strong enough to take special jounin or even jounin in terms of raw damage and power, even if they didn't have enough chakra to use it regularly. Iwamaru knew that the intent was simply to display his skill as a shinobi, especially since he was alone. But Iwamaru did not intend to simply show his skill. If he couldn't fight someone he was supposed to be on equal terms with, he wouldn't be able to accept the title of chuunin with confidence or certainty.

He intended to win, and he would prepare himself with victory in mind.

He was on his normal runs with the Jousai, but this time, he'd requested from the captain to have an entire pathway to clear by himself. Though it took some cajoling, the captain relented to his request with the condition that he couldn't keep the rest of the crew waiting for him. An eager spirit filling his eyes to the brim, Iwamaru wasted no time, running as fast as he possibly could to the assigned path he was to clear. He skidded to a stop as he saw the road in front of him that he was set to clear. There were twenty of the boulders, all medium and large-sized. Well within the limits of his strength, but there were a lot of them. He had to safely move them from their positions and not let them fall on the paths further below, lest villagers and innocent travelers be hurt. That would require more time and energy.

Perfect.

Starting with the first boulder, Iwamaru double checked to make sure he had good clearance to throw the boulder into the endless chasm below. Seeing there was no one and nothing at risk, Iwamaru hoisted the boulder over his shoulders and, with one arm, chucked the large rock over the edge, whistling as it fell down into the deep shadows of the ravine before eventually echoing back with a thud. Iwamaru continued forward with the next three boulders. They were each of similar size to the first, so after making sure to check that he wasn't about to clobber some unsuspecting villager or traveler with a literal flying rock big enough to crush a house, Iwamaru quickly hoisted and lobbed the next three boulders just the same as the first into the deep shadows below, the sounds of their death knells hitting his ears only after a solid ten seconds. He still marveled at how deep the ravine was. He might eventually go down there at some point and explore to see what lost history or relics he might find. Most likely, there were just rocks. Lots and lots of rocks.

He then came upon the fifth boulder, larger than the ones before it. Taking a quick peek down the path, Iwamaru could see that there were three others aside from this one that were of the larger variety. Interesting. He'd actually have to use both arms for this one. Bending down with his knees, Iwamaru dug his fingers into the rock, preferring to force himself to not use chakra for this task, and with his legs, lifted the boulder over his head. Taking a quick peek over the ledge to make sure he was all clear, Iwamaru chucked the large rock down into the darkness beneath. He didn't wait to hear the crackling echo of shattering stone from below before moving onto the next four smaller boulders, doing quick safety checks between each boulder with one hand and throwing them over the edge. The childish part of Iwamaru enjoyed that he got to throw rocks for work, but he remembered to stay focused and treat this task with urgency. Not only was it important to keep the paths clean, but he was being allowed to do this by the Jousai, some of the most elite shinobi in the village. This was, in a way, a sacred trust, and he couldn't betray it.

The next large boulder sat before him, mocking him with its size. It was like that dumb bully that thought his girth inherently made him invulnerable to a nut punch. How dare. Making sure there wasn't anyone over the ledge, Iwamaru did something he'd been waiting to so for a long time: stepping slight back, Iwamaru jumped and double dropkicked the boulder into the depths before. The boulder was launched with such force that it bounced and ricocheted off of the ravine walls like a pinball. There was a certain sense of satisfaction that Iwamaru got from it as he moved on to clear the next set of smaller boulders.

He'd never fully cleared a path on his own, and he was starting to break a sweat. Good. Being miserable builds character. Iwamaru quickly came up to the next large boulder, but just as he was about to toss it over, the genin had another silly idea. Taking the large boulder, he started clearing the last stretch of the path before the last large boulder with the boulder currently in his hands. Sure, it was harder, but that was the point. Eventually, he reached the final boulder... and though he was tired, Iwamaru entirely intended to smack the boulder with his brother to take them both out. Winding back for the swing, Iwamaru slammed the last boulder with the large boulder he'd picked up earlier down the path, and much to his pleasure, both of the boulders smoothly arced and fell smoothly into the shadows below.

With a grin, the genin wiped his brow and jogged to the rendevous. He was hoping that he'd finished before the others.
Stamina Training, Day Two - Scrap Delivery to the Foundry

Iwamaru was constantly surprised by how many small arms and bulk weapons the Jousai went through. Iwamaru was pretty certain that he saw more weapons broken in a single day in the training grounds for the Jousai than he had for his entire short career. It was certainly a reality of combat that he hadn't really paid attention to before joining up with the organization. He had a whole new level of appreciation for the importance of performing regular maintenance on his weapons and equipment, and it was now his night-time custom to regularly attend to his weapons, including his sword, which was seeing more use.

Though he was normally charged with delivering the fresh weapons to the Jousai headquarters, today's task was actually the inverse. In four large scrolls on his back, Iwamaru held the majority of the broken and damaged weapons that had been generated over the last week at the training grounds, and he was to take the scrolls to the foundries so the weapons could be broken down and reconstituted into materials for new weapons. That Foundry was on the other side of this level. The weight on his shoulders and the distance would be a good challenge for his stamina. He needed to get this package to the foundry in the next thirty minutes before their processing cut-off time. The weight on Iwamaru's back wasn't unbearable, but it would be a challenge.

Driving his powerful legs, Iwamaru began his dash. He moved as fast as he could at a consistent pace, making sure not to drain himself by going full blast right from the get-go. The first stretch of the path was easy, consisting of mostly winding tunnels and pathways that wrapped around mountains and cliff faces. As Iwamaru was making his way down from the Jousai Headquarters, however, he realized that he'd waste too much time with getting back to the main part of the village. He'd have to find some sort of shortcut. As he was running along a horseshoe bend, he looked down to the other side of the natural pit that formed between the roads. There was part of the road down there...

Throwing caution to the wind, Iwamaru put on a short burst of speed and leaped off the edge, mentally preparing himself for the roll as he hit the ground. For a few brief moments, Iwamaru was weightless, even as he started to fall. His feet hit the ground, and Iwamaru rolled onto his side, using the momentum from the jump to push himself up to his feet and continue running forward. The adrenaline he felt flowing through his veins was exhilarating. He should find other shortcuts like this for the future. He'd need to find at least one more to ensure he had a chance of getting to the Foundry on time. His eyes continued to scan his surroundings for other opportunities, even as he continued to run.

Iwamaru made it about halfway through the mountain path when he encountered a bridge. Stopping for a moment, he realized he recognized this area. Looking around, he looked for another shortcut. He was pretty sure... Yes, it was! Looking down, the bridge directly beneath him would take him to the main road leading to the mountain paths from the village. Following that road inversely would take him to the industrial sector, where the Foundry was located. Still, this was going to be much more difficult. That was a one hundred meter drop. He wasn't about to survive that head-on. He needed a plan.

Channeling chakra into his feet, Iwamaru firmly set his foot down on the cliff face before taking back off into a jog. The chakra helped make sure he wasn't about to plummet to an early grave, to be certain, but with the added weight of gravity working against him, Iwamaru had to control his movements more tightly, making sure he didn't just run full blitz down the cliff face straight into the ground, another rather unfortunate injury just waiting to happen if he wasn't careful. He was already starting to sweat after only making it a third of a way down the cliff face. The Tree Walking technique was a simple jutsu, but using it for a long period of time could still be taxing.

After a grueling three minutes, Iwamaru managed to clear the rest of the massive one-hundred meter cliff, grateful to be planting his feet back on firm ground as he turned the corner and took the tunnel towards the center of the current village level. Quickly scanning his surroundings after emerging from the darkness, he quickly spotted the road that would take him to the Industrial Quadrant. He knew that he didn't have much time left. He needed to push himself harder. Going just a little faster than before, Iwamaru felt the fire in his lungs, even as the barren landscape gave way to buildings, factories, and smokestacks. Once he hit a thicker concentration of buildings, the genin decided to forego the streets, instead opting to start leaping between the higher levels of the buildings to gain more time and keep freedom of movement.

Leaping from the rooftops gave Iwamaru a much-needed reprieve, not to mention perspective. His legs were burning from maintaining a run for such a long period of time and varying amounts of strain and pressure from the jumps and wall-walking he'd done to get this far so quickly. He was looking for the telltale banner of the village's emblem to mark one of the official Foundries. Eventually, he found one. He wasn't certain how much time he had left, but he didn't focus on that. Now was the time to put all of his energy into his movement. As he landed on one roof, he surged forward and dropped off the ledge, aiming for the walls of the other adjacent buildings. Using the buildings as support points, Iwamaru zigzagged his way down from four stories high, skidding down to the street once more as he pushed forward back into a full sprint.

He managed to get into the Foundry compound right as the doors started to close. Amidst his panting, he gave himself a thumbs up. Had he not taken the shortcuts, he certainly wouldn't have made it on time. The Jousai would have a fresh order of weapons waiting for them tomorrow he'd inevitably have to lug. For now, he was gonna drop this stuff off.

His shoulders were cramping something fierce.
Stamina Training, Day Three - Medical Emergency

If there was one thing Iwamaru had a knack for, it was being in places where emergencies happened right before his eyes.

A ninjutsu training exercise gone wrong caused a literal boulder to come flying out of one of the training fields into the marketplace. Thankfully, Iwamaru noticed the projectile in time to stop it shortly after it landed, but the boulder crashing through the streets still caused damage, and it still sent him skidding back as the boulder dug a shallow trench into the street of the marketplace. When the dust settled, the inevitable cacophony of panicked and pleading cries erupted from the momentary silence that proceeded it. Iwamaru cursed his ineptitude. He couldn't force the boulder into a dead stop. He needed to be stronger, or else something like this would repeat itself. Quickly lifting the boulder, Iwamaru set the boulder aside, doing his best to make sure it didn't needlessly impede traffic. He knew that if it was launched with enough force to push him back, he wasn't likely strong enough to break it at his current level of strength.

There were already several medical shinobi on the scene helping tend to the wounded, but there was one villager, in particular: a young girl that was grievously wounded. Iwamaru's blood boiled at the sight, the medic clearly working his hardest to merely stabilize the child. Iwamaru dashed over. "How is she?" he asked, doing his utmost to stay calm.

The medic shook his head, clearly upset. "Not good. I'm doing everything I can, but I don't have enough chakra to get her stable. The transport's not going to make it in time."

Iwamaru could tell even through the girl's tattered and bloody clothing that the boulder had likely slammed into her shortly after making contact with the ground. Her breathing was labored, and her chest seemed to have abnormal depressions in a variety of places. If only he had more chakra, there might be a chance for the girl to make it...

More chakra...

"Can you take mine?"

The medic eyes widened as they shot up to look at the boy. His eyes questioned him for a moment before nodding. "Place your hand on my back, and send your chakra out through your hands. I'll take it from there"

Iwamaru nodded, taking a moment to quickly mold as much chakra as he could manage before placing his hands on the medic's back. The effect was immediate. Iwamaru could feel his chakra flowing out of him like a river flowing out to the sea. It wasn't what he'd been expecting, but he quickly dropped to his knees so he wouldn't have to worry about standing. He wasn't sure who this medic was, but the transfer of chakra was going so smoothly that it almost felt like the medic's body was an extension of himself. His chakra control had to be excellent. Even in the midst of this crisis, Iwamaru had a newfound respect for medical shinobi and their skills.

The girl's whole body seemed to be glowing with the trademark greenish hue of the medic's healing chakra. "You're doing great, but I'm gonna need a lot more chakra for this next part," he advised. Iwamaru nodded and continued molding his chakra as fast as he could before channeling it to his hands. He could quickly feel his breath getting shorter, sweat beginning to form on his brow and back. He'd been used to physical and chakra fatigue, but he'd never experienced the onset so quickly. It was a good thing he was sitting down; had he even been kneeling, he likely would have fallen and broken the link. He could feel his focus slipping as the fatigue set in. Crap... This is bad... If I can't stay awake...

His eyes focused on the face of the young girl in front of the medic. Iwamaru grit his teeth, placing both hands on the medic's back, continuing to send his chakra outward into the medic's chakra flow.

"You're doing great, kid," the medic reassured him. "I've almost got her stable. I just need your chakra for a couple minutes more."

"Please hurry. I'm not certain how much more I can give," Iwamaru acknowledge, his hands starting to shake from the amount of energy he'd already given.

The next minutes passed by in the tense silence that naturally followed a life hanging in the balance. Iwamaru focused on molding his chakra and sending it out to the medic. He could tell that the medic was getting tired, too. He could feel him breathing more quickly, too. Even with Iwamaru's chakra, this technique was taking a toll on him. He had been right after all. Had Iwamaru not interceded, this girl's life would have been forfeit. He didn't have much time to think about that, however; his stream of chakra momentarily fluctuated as he had to bring himself back from the brink of passing out. Dangit... Is this really all I can do? Is this my limit?

Iwamaru looked at the girl. Even as he panted from the exhaustion, he felt a small fire build up within him, a pit of yet untapped energy he'd not yet given. In order to save the girl, he'd have to be willing to give everything. Even more so because it was a villager.

"Hey, I need just a little more chakra, kid! We're close! Just a little more..."

Iwamaru took a deep breath and reached into that well of energy and drew out as much as he could. It wasn't much... but it was enough. The appearance of pain appeared to fade from the girl's face as the green glow faded away. For a moment there was silence between the two shinobi. Eventually...

"She's stable. She's in rough shape, but she's gonna make it..."

Iwamaru opened his mouth to speak, but words would not come. Instead, a mind-numbing sense of vertigo overtook him as exhaustion overtook him. He fell over on his side, the sound of the medic's calls for him to awaken fell on deaf ears as he passed out. The genin had earned his rest and would wake up in the hospital several hours later.
Stamina Training, Day Four - Waterfall Training

"Let's go! I don't have all day! I took a chunk out of my morning just to set this up for you!"

Iwamaru gaped. He'd been instructed to come only with light jogging pants and a tank-top with no shoes. As he now looked up at a one-hundred-meter waterfall standing before him, the reasons for those instructions came into much sharper focus. "Mariko-sensei, I've climbed waterfalls before. What's the difference between this one and those?" he called up from the base of the waterfall.

Considering she was so high up, it was difficult to make out anything but her black hair blowing through the crosswinds at the top of the level. She appeared to be wearing a bathing suit, which seemed fitting. A beam of light from one of the light vents shone straight down on her location at the top of the waterfall. "Because you're not going to climb on the surface of this one," she called down. "You're going to climb up through the water! It'll tax both your physical endurance and your chakra levels at the same time!"

Iwamaru inwardly cursed. For all of her insanity, she did have a knack for coming up with creative training exercises that targeted exactly what he needed to work on. He'd have to make use of the Water Walking technique and have to deal with the force of the water beating down on him. The only solace would be that once he got closer to the top, it would theoretically get easier. There was nothing else but to get to it.

Channeling chakra into his feet, Iwamaru slowly walked into the waterfall and was met with its full force. It was just a small amount weaker than he was, but he would have to exert his full strength against the water just to climb slowly. With deliberate, cautious movements, Iwamaru placed his right foot upwards into the waterfall and got a feel for the movement of the water as he started to adjust his chakra. Once he got a firm foothold, he stepped up and did the same with his left, his body going perpendicular to the back of the waterfall as he had to face the full brunt of the waterfall's energy against his chest. With slow, trudging steps, once he'd gotten his feet firmly planted, he slowly started climbing.

As he suspected, the first stretch of the climb was incredibly hard. Though the water wasn't hurting him by any means, the sheer distance the water was traveling and the amount of water was certainly no walk in the park. Keeping his back straight, Iwamaru took the impact of the water on his chest, each step up a hard-won battle in the long vertical road he had to climb. It was agonizingly slow; after a full minute, he'd only managed to climb three meters. It was clear that he wasn't going to be able to simply charge his way through this liquid barrier that held him back from his goal. He would have to take his time, carefully managing his energy and enduring constant physical punishment all the while. Once again, he cursed Mariko's creativity. The genin knew it was good for him, especially since he'd be squaring off against his opponent in the chuunin exams alone, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He was hoping this training was worth it. He would feel like an utter failure if he didn't end up beating his opponent.

"Heeeeeeeeey~! How's it going down there?" Mariko's mockingly cheery voice rang down. Iwamaru was barely able to perceive her call over the roar of the waterfall, but he could instinctively tell that she was trying to push his buttons. She always did this during training. Part of him wondered if she was doing it to point out a weakness in his mentality, but part of him suspected she did it because she secretly viewed him like a little brother that she enjoyed endlessly teasing. He wasn't capable of determining which it was. "Slowly... I barely feel like I've gotten anywhere," he called back, admittedly both thankful for and annoyed at her conversation distracting him. "I need to concentrate!"

Her voice called back down. "Seems to me like you're doing fine. You're already halfway up!"

"I said I need to-"

Iwamaru's irritation was quickly replaced with confusion. Halfway? What on earth did she mean? He looked back.

He was sixty meters up.

Despite the water still beating on him full force, he had to take a minute to regain his bearings. Because of the training Mariko had given him, he'd come this far without even realizing it. And here he was complaining about it. Iwamaru made a mental note to himself to remember this day. The next time he wanted to complain about the form the lessons he was being taught took, he'd take a look at what he had accomplished after finishing it before scrutinizing the methods chosen to teach him. He might actually get smarter if he did that and not be a spoiled brat.

One thing he noticed was that, despite now being eighty meters up, the water's force wasn't letting up. This water wasn't natural, he realized. There was likely some sort of jutsu at work drawing the water up from underground and adding it to water being created by suiton chakra. Naturally, as one got closer to the lip of a waterfall, the water would normally be hitting them with less force. He reprimanded himself for not even thinking about that before climbing on this thing. Such a lack of perception could cost him his life one day.

By the time he reached the lip of the waterfall and pulled himself up onto dry land, he was soaked to the bone and exhausted, both physically from the beating he took from the water and from chakra fatigue because of how long he'd used the Water Walking technique. Mariko didn't even open her eyes, enjoying the sunlight. "Took you long enough. I had enough time up here to get a tan," she joked.

Out of breath, Iwamaru could only muster a weak response. "Not... another... word," he sputtered, his chest heaving as he was finally able to catch his breath after this entire ordeal.
Stamina Training, Day Five - Cleaning Boulders Again

Just as earlier this week, Iwamaru asked his squad captain if he could clear one of the pathways by himself. He was currently dashing between causeways and mountainside roads to find which path he was going to clean. Normally, he'd be tackling this with a partner, but he wanted to test the limits of his stamina. He'd been training all week, and he wanted to see how much he had improved since the beginning. As he was running between pathways, he caught something out of the corner of his eye, and he came skidding to a halt. Doubling back, he peered down one of the mountain paths. He couldn't be sure, but... he thought...

He had seen something move.

Iwamaru slowly approached the pathway. They were all large boulders that needed to be pulverized since this was a pathway with walls. Starting by slowly approaching the front side of the builder, Iwamaru listened intently for any noises, sounds, signs of other living beings. Aside from the normally whistling of the wind, he could hear something else... something was...

Whispering?

Drawing back, he formulated his plan of action. If there was someone behind the rock who meant ill, they likely wouldn't expect someone like him to be able to break the boulder so easily. With a single downward punch into the rock, the entire boulder crumbled, the debris falling down as opposed to out. His eyes quickly scanning the now visible space, Iwamaru searched for the source of the noise, the culprit he was chasing. It wasn't easy to see through the dust and debris, but he saw a shape quickly move over to the next boulder. Hot on its trail, Iwamaru followed, breaking the next boulder without skipping a beat. This was no longer maintenance of the mountain path.

Iwamaru was likely chasing a criminal. And that criminal was fast.

Throwing a grenade up into the air, he activated the device, the explosion echoing throughout the mountain range as he continued his pursuit. His Jousai brethren would soon be on their way. For now, it was Iwamaru's duty to keep up the pursuit. The villain hadn't even waited for Iwamaru to issue instructions. It strongly implied that it had nefarious intent and was looking to escape authority. Iwamaru would not let it escape. Using the cover of dust and debris, the target kept retreating further up the path, and Iwamaru kept chasing it down, each supposed hiding place being sundered and crumbling to pieces under Iwamaru's strength. Halfway up the path, Iwamaru started to question the nature of this target he was chasing. At first, he had suspected that the target was a skilled human. Now, however, he wasn't certain. Its movements were smooth, practically as if it was gliding across the ground. Iwamaru was thankful that he'd done all of this stamina training before today. Had he not done so, he likely would have already started feeling fatigued at this point, having run full force after this target. The fruits of his labor were showing.

They were approaching the end of this road, and Iwamaru grinned. This was a junction point where the team would normally meet up before progressing onto the next section of paths to clear. His fellow Jousai members would meet him there. Having covered well over two miles in this short sprint, Iwamaru was showing signs of fatigue, but he could still keep going. Busting boulders left and right, the target was losing places to hide. Iwamaru squeezed the rest of his energy into the last stretch, three last boulders standing between him and the discovery of his target's identity. The first boulder went down with ease, despite his sore shoulders and legs. The target's movements were becoming more erratic, more panicked. Iwamaru did not let up, moving onto the second boulder and, with a kick against the wall, sent rock and debris spraying. Not even looking for the target, Iwamaru slammed his fist into the final boulder with a vicious uppercut. His eyes scanned in front of him, looking for the identity of this elusive mark.

He saw nothing.

Iwamaru's eyes quickly scanned his surroundings. The target was nowhere to be seen. Where could they have gone? He would have been more irritated if not for the long chase he'd just endured. His eyes eventually focused on a large, thin crack in the wall by the second to last boulder he destroyed. His Jousai seniors rounded the corner not a moment after he saw the crack. There was no way the target would have put on enough speed to avoid all of his comrades. No, this target had escaped into the cracks. It meant one of two things: either the target was a shinobi...

Or they weren't human.

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Tate Iwamaru - Training Thread

Post by ShinobiTruth » Wed Aug 28, 2019 7:16 pm

Daily Training Logs: Supplemental, Instinct Training - 5 Points: 5045/5000

Instinct Training, Day One - Separating Sounds in Loud Areas: First Day


For the final week of training, Mariko assigned Iwamaru to arguably the strangest training place he'd been sent to thus far: the market. He wasn't particularly certain how this was supposed to help him with sharpening his senses, but she had her reasons. She'd made that clear during the waterfall training session just last week. She'd pointed out that he may have set too rigorous standards for himself in regards to the Chuunin exam, but he was determined. He would consider it a failure if he didn't win. He spent all of this time preparing himself. He had to show that he was more than simply adequate as a shinobi. It was a matter of personal pride. It wasn't like his father was around to guide or support him. He was on his own. He needed this for so many reasons that he simply couldn't enumerate them, both for a lack of time and the emotional difficulty he would experience by doing so.

Her instructions were simple. "Close your eyes and listen, huh?" he repeated to himself as he read the small note which contained his directions from Mariko-sensei. Unlike the other missives, which had been entire scrolls, this one was so plain. Why was that?

Shaking his head, he closed his eyes. He didn't mind the marketplace, but he did prefer solitude and places of quiet more than he did noise. He often found the noise distracting, an ill barrier to keeping track of his surroundings. There was often so much going on that it was difficult to perceive. Still, with so many different training assignments from his teacher, he had an idea that he knew the purpose of this training. He had to admit that this would be a challenge. Trying to separate and identify as many different, distinct sounds simultaneously would be difficult. It would be an excellent way to train his senses.

Focusing on nothing but the sounds coming into his ears, Iwamaru sat completely still. Motion, heavy breathing, even the sound of his bodily functions were muted. Any sound distracting from the task at hand would only make it more difficult. At first, it started like a chimera of laughs, cries, shouts, screams, and howls, animal and man alike fusing into an unearthly beast in his mind's eye. Clearly straining, he fought to focus his attention on one sound alone. The sounds around it didn't disappear, but as the minutes led on, the sound he was focusing on, the happy yip of a small dog at the ankle of its owner, started to become more pronounced in his hearing. It still wasn't as clear as he wanted it to be. Focusing more deeply, Iwamaru continued to search for the dog and tried to isolate the sound in his perceptive range. Eventually, with a little bit of time, he got it. Though the sounds around the dog weren't imperceptible, the dog's barking and panting were now clearly distinct from the rest of the cornucopia of sounds. He was glad to see that he could do so with a little bit of focus, but this understanding led to the inevitable question that followed:

Could he do more?

Maintaining his focus on the sound of the dog, Iwamaru searched through the other now more muted sounds of the marketplace for another sound to isolate and refine in his scope of perception, another "target" if you will. There was a strange, softly abrasive sound that he'd noticed after spending a bit of time in the marketplace. He'd not allowed himself to search for it by sight, understanding that it would defeat the purpose of the training if he gave in to the temptation. Much like the dog's barking and panting, the genin searched through the rank and file of the noises within his perceptive range for one that matched the sound he had heard earlier. Eventually, his ears zeroed in on the source: a sound on the opposite side of the street from the dog. The source of the sound was smaller than even the dog, and in his opinion, the dog was pretty diminutive. What could it possibly be? Iwamaru focused his hearing more sharply on the abrasive sound that was the current focus of his fascination. It was smooth, patient, and slow, this rubbing sound. He could tell this was also another kind of creature. Whenever it moved, it seemed to make a crackling sound of some sort. What kind of creature would produce this sound?

This sound was punctuated by a slight flitting sound, almost like something quickly flicking in the air before going still. This creature... it appeared to be in some sort of cage of some sort. And the flitting sound... was this... was this a snake? Iwamaru gave himself time to listen more thoroughly to the creature. He had a strong suspicion, but it was foolish to act on suspicions in most cases. As time passed, he became more and more certain that it was indeed a snake. Apparently, one of the merchants had the serpent in a small wooden cage, the creature moving along the wooden meshing of the cage being the cause of the rubbing sound that the genin had been picking up. No doubt, the merchant was either selling the snake for its skin, its flesh, or as a pet. Focusing his ears further, Iwamaru tried to hear past the snake in front of the merchant's stand, but for now, his skill was insufficient to hear clearly past the boundary of the tent. What he could surmise, however, was that there were a large number of snakes just behind the merchant, based on the muffled shifting sounds he heard. They were like soft undertones, just the slightest bit more perceivable than the rest of the marketplace.

Opening his eyes, Iwamaru checked the results of his perception training. He was relieved to see that his analysis had been correct. They were indeed a dog and a snake, and it seemed that there was a large wooden box, well-constructed and tarred on the inside to prevent the snakes from escaping, sitting just behind the merchant next to the snake. Iwamaru took a deep breath, nodding to himself. This was an area he clearly needed to improve on, and he would do so...

Tomorrow. He would improve tomorrow, that is. For now, the smells of the market had awoken the great beast in his stomach, and it demanded to be satisfied.
Instinct Training, Day Two - Separating Sounds in Loud Areas: Second Day

Alright, the second day was here. Once again, he traveled to the noisy and bustling marketplace per Mariko-sensei's instructions to sharpen his senses. He'd been pretty surprised with himself as to how quickly he'd managed to get a handle on isolating various sources of sounds within a crowd yesterday. He was curious to see how much more quickly he could manage to pick up sounds. For now, he had to get to a place where he could sit down.

Once Iwamaru got settled back into the same place he'd been the day before, he once again took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The merchants around here were nothing, if not consistent. That same dog was there as were the snakes. He'd seen them as he approached his resting spot in the marketplace. He was thankful for the consistency. Having a stable environment made this type of training easier. He knew that he'd have to adapt more quickly in a mission environment, of course. Circumstances never fell neatly into place in a real-world situation. Still, having a reliable metric for his growth was valuable when building a skill set.

Reaching out with his hearing, Iwamaru decided to first relocate the dog and snake in his range. After a few minutes, Iwamaru was able to isolate the dog's yipping and panting first. Then, quickly moving onto the snake, which was more difficult and required a bit more time, the rubbing of the snake's belly and the flitting of its tongue soon emerged from the cluster of sounds in the market. That was simple enough. Now, his task today was simple. Locate two new sources of sound that he could add to the two sources of sound that he'd already isolated. There was a plethora of noises and sounds he could pick from here. It was probably best that he choose two sounds that were quieter, more difficult to perceive. Searching through the chaotic amalgam of sound waves, Iwamaru strained his senses further, trying to separate another softer sound from the seemingly senseless mass. Eventually, a soft chirping caught Iwamaru's attention, and he strained his senses to perceive the sound more clearly. Considering how soft the sound of the bird was, this was much more difficult than even the snake. Slowly, ever so slowly, the song of the small creature became more and more pronounced in his senses. Eventually, the birdsong came through clearly, a diminutive canary, chirping contently and whistling through the bars of its expansive cage. The sound of shuffling skin and scraping talons on wood as it jumped from perch to perch. It was calm, content, unaware of the life it was likely to be condemned to. Nay, its dulcet, quiet tones carried on without worry or concern, drowned out by the sound of the marketplace around it to all but the keenest of observers. Iwamaru was thankful to be among that number.

With a new target acquired, he decided that one more sound in his collection would be fitting. He'd only done animals up to this point. While he was certain that he could improve in the breadth and depth of sounds he could separate and individually process in his mind, Iwamaru thought it more important to try something radically different. Instead of merely capturing the sounds of animals and creatures of the earth and sky... why not try listening in on a human? Most certainly, being able to zero in on a conversation of an enemy without catching their notice was an invaluable skill he would need as a shinobi. So long as he didn't pry into someone's deep, personal business, what was the harm? Besides, this was a marketplace. A target could easily try to mask themselves in a loud, crowded area much like this marketplace. Being able to follow a target into such a location would likely be vital to his success as a shinobi.

For now, Iwamaru decided to start out by searching for a voice that was just average. Louder voices would be too easy to catch, and he wasn't quite confident he'd be able to parse out one of the softer voices. His voice searched the almost unintelligible mass of laughs, shouts, and conversations for something, anything he could focus on more closely. Eventually, Iwamaru caught a hold of something with his senses, something that he could notice even amongst the mix of other auditory input he was receiving. Holding onto the three creatures already in his focused hearing, he strained his senses to try and separate this voice from the rest around it. Iwamaru found this exceedingly difficult. He had not appreciated how wildly varied the tones of the human voice could travel, and there were several times in his long battle of focus where he feared he'd lost the voice. After ten minutes of struggling, he'd managed to at least partially isolate the voice from the rest of the crowd. He could tell by the sound that it was a woman. Did she sound... young? He couldn't tell at this level of perception. He pushed all of his willpower into focusing on that one sound. Her voice started to become clearer. Yes, she was definitely young. Probably around his age, considering her vocabulary and tone of her voice. What more could he surmise? Her voice was still a bit muffled. Slowly, very slowly, her voice began to become more clear. Eventually...

"Thank you. We worked hard to make these goods. I'm so glad that you and your family have enjoyed them!"

Iwamaru had done it. He'd managed to fully isolate her voice without losing track of the snake, dog, or bird. This was awesome! He wondered how many other people he could lock onto as he developed his senses further. He was seriously considering making this a focal point of his Taijutsu skill set. Why with such abilities, he could track a large number of culprits through crowds without losing track of their locations. He could... He could...

Man, her voice was pretty.

Iwamaru opened eyes and blushed, reprimanding himself that he'd let his focus slip. Part of him wanted to look over at the sound of the voice that had momentarily entranced him, but he didn't allow himself to. He was here to train. Nothing more.

Nothing more...
Instinct Training, Day Three - Separating Human Voices in Loud Areas: First Day

Iwamaru was so engaged and excited with this training now that he arrived at the market an hour earlier than last time. In his haste, he had forgotten why he'd shown up at the same time the past two days: to ensure a stable training environment. Though he hated to admit it, he had been a bit enamored with the voice of the young woman he'd heard yesterday. He had been hoping to catch a glimpse of her before he was ready to start training, but it was to no avail. At first, reprimanding himself for simply assuming she'd be there earlier and then reprimanding himself for allowing his personal feelings to get in the way of important training, Iwamaru found his place once again and simply waited. Instead of spending the entire time with his eyes closed, he'd take in the sights of the marketplace while he waited, challenging himself to try and recognize as many individual objects, animals, and people he could manage within ten-second bursts. Though it wasn't his primary method of training, he viewed it as a way to warm-up or prime his senses for the actual training. He started out being able to recognize fifteen different animals, objects, people, and voices at the start of his hour-long wait. By the time the extra hour was up, he had managed to more than double that number, counting upwards of forty different objects, people, animals, and voices at that time.

Keeping his training consistent, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Instead of simply isolating and keeping track of the same noises he had before, Iwamaru decided to survey the overall sound profile of the marketplace once more and focus entirely on people, instead. He'd learned last time that it was more difficult to properly isolate and sparse certain human voices through the noise and the din, especially since humans naturally altered their timbre and volume of their voices more frequently than animals. As he was picking his targets, a familiar ring hit his ears. No... It couldn't be... He'd been watching the marketplace for the entire hour! Had she somehow slipped his notice? Perhaps she'd arrived at her family's stall through a back alleyway? Zeroing on her voice once more, he still found it difficult to fully isolate her sound profile from the rest of the marketplace. Thankfully, it didn't take as much time as it had only the day before, but her voice had changed a bit. It was softer...

"...Hello! Are you interested in any of our wares? ...We make them fresh every morning!"

Yes, her voice was definitely different. It wasn't just the volume. The nature of her voice had shifted from yesterday. There was still joy, but there was also something else. What was it? If he listened a bit more...

No. Focus on the training. Mind your own business. Keep track of what she's saying and nothing more. Find other voices to focus on now. The sharp self-reprimand quickly whipped his focus right back to where it should be. Only keeping notice of the words she was saying, Iwamaru started searching for other voices, those quieter than the young girl's. It certainly wasn't easy. He could sense that even as he was trying to search for another person's voice to isolate and track, his focus on the girl's voice was slipping. Stopping himself momentarily and reestablishing his tracking of her conversation, Iwamaru slowed his pace and continued at less than half the speed he had before. It was grim, mundane work, but he could still keep track of the conversation the girl was having with the customers visiting her stall, even if he couldn't focus close enough to accurately gauge her emotional state from said conversations at his present level of skill. Eventual, his ears picked up on something else. It was another soft voice like the girl's, softer even. But its consistency was different. If he had to describe it, it was gravely, rough. Like cotton versus very coarse sandpaper. It was only the tiniest bit more pronounced than the blended cacophony of the marketplace around it, but it was there. Straining his senses, Iwamaru worked to further isolate the sound within his range of hearing. It was an agonizingly slow process, so much so that he feared that he might not actually be succeeding at all for the first five minutes. It was only after about ten minutes or so that Iwamaru actually detected a slight improvement of clarity in the voice, and even then, it was still far too muddled to be able to parse actual words. It sounded like muffled speech, almost like he was listening with water in his ears.

Iwamaru knew that beyond this barrier was the road to progress. It would only become more difficult, not easier, to improve past this point. He had to be persistent and unforgiving with himself. He could accept no other outcome except success from himself. The world would not be kind or forgiving of apathy or procrastination. Further, he pushed his senses, stretching them to their current limits and beyond, his brow so heavily creased and strained under the pressure of his willpower that he started to develop beads of sweat upon his forehead. The voice continued to become clearer in the scope of his hearing. The person was a man. Yes, a man. And considering how gravely his voice sounded, he was probably older, arguably in his seventies. What was he saying, though? He needed more than what he had now. Just a bit further... Just a little more, and he'd have the voice be as clear as the girl's voice.

"...like these bao buns a lot! The family sells them right across the way... Yes, that stall with the pretty, young girl. They're soft and fluffy, like clouds in the sky. You can get them with pork, too, young man! It's the ticket to quashing that mid-day desire for a snack!"

Success! He could clearly hear the old man's speech to someone in front of him. He was fairly certain he could listen in onto a full conversation with this level of skill. He opened his eyes, wiping his brow with a small cloth. The training was only going to get more difficult from here on out.
Instinct Training, Day Four - Separating Human Voices in Loud Areas: Second Day

Iwamaru had decided. He knew that the increase in his perceptive skills would be enough of a reward for his hard training, but he decided that, as a small motivational boost before taking his chuunin exam, he would buy a few bao buns and talk to the girl at the end of his training week. Just the thought put a pit in his stomach. He'd never really thought to approach a girl like that before, and he still didn't know what she looked like. He couldn't bring himself to look at her face yet. Still, he'd been able to surmise a few things from just listening to her. She likely had a direct hand in making the bao buns her family sold at the marketplace considering the level of detail she would use to describe the product to their customers. It was also highly likely that she was an only child, considering that in her conversations with whom Iwamaru believed to be her mother, she made no mention of siblings. It seemed like they were a small family. Perhaps she was an only child like he was?

He allowed himself only that small rumination as he took his seat at his normal post. He realized that he should give the girl some space. Any more prying and it would clearly be invasive. He had an old man now that he could focus on. What was most important right now was him being able to isolate an entire conversation from a crowd. This would be an invaluable skill for him to develop. Information gathering was best done discreetly, and his best choice would be to hear the conversations without even being near them, to begin with. For now, that was much more important than this fleeting attraction trying to well up inside Iwamaru's heart. Reaching out with his senses, Iwamaru found the old man's telltale gravely rasp. Despite only having him to focus on, it took Iwamaru a bit to fully grasp the old man's speech again. He was already pretty quiet in comparison to the rest of the marketplace.

"Hello, sir! Only the finest leather and skins here! Cowhide, fox skin, bearskin: you name it, we've got it!"

He was surprised to hear the old man being louder than normal for a second, but he quickly berated himself for not remember that he was sitting in a marketplace. Of course he would need to raise his voice to attract customers. Pushing hard to focus on the sounds directly around the old man, eventually, he heard the sound of another person walking into his range. At first, Iwamaru could only guess what the person was saying based on the old man's responses.

"All prices are negotiable, good sir. What kinds of skins were you looking for?... Ah yes, these are very luxurious indeed. I had to spend some time trapping these creatures. These I'm willing to negotiate on, but I will have to ask a little more than the other skins."

It wasn't good enough. He had to push further. Right now, there still wasn't much of anything he could grasp from the other half of the conversation aside from the movements of the other individual. For several minutes, they continued to haggle and barter. Iwamaru did not cease in trying to sharpen his focus. Progress was slow, as slothlike as sap dripping down the trunk of a tree on a cold morning. It was only after nearly ten minutes of diligent focus that he finally managed to hear something other than the old man:

"...Bear... smaller... animals? Do you... only the adults... hunt the cubs...?"

"I only hunt the adults, the male bears specifically. The bear cubs need their mothers to grow and survive. I can't just kill them willy-nilly. Balance and restraint in my hunting practices make for a sustainable business model, yes?"

He was getting parts of the conversation with the other participant, apparently an older woman. She must have a fancy for animal pelts. Parts of the conversation would not be enough, however. He needed the entire conversation. He pushed his senses even further. Just a little more...

"...larger bears... skins too big for me. Would you have a better recommendation for someone who only needs enough fur for a smaller garment or accessory?"

"Most certainly! If you'll notice here, I mentioned them earlier, but I didn't want to distract you from the bearskins since you seemed so keen on those at first glance. These fox skins would be ideal. They're of excellent quality, and due to the animal's smaller size, you have no need to worry about having too much skin to work with!"

Iwamaru allowed himself a smile. Yes! He'd done it. But he had to maintain this long enough for it to be relevant. He continued listening.

"You're right! The fox skin does feel quite soft... I think you have me sold. What are you looking to get from this fox pelt?"

"I'm not a particularly greedy man. How about five-thousand Ryo? Certainly a reasonable price for such a fine pelt!"

"It is a fine pelt, but it's also fairly small. I can offer three-thousand for it."

"My good lady, I can't reasonably make a profit off of my work at that price. Would thirty-five hundred be an acceptable compromise?"

"Very well. That's reasonable enough."

Iwamaru's smile turned into a full-blown grin. That was the first conversation he'd listened in to without the participants realizing. His training was a success! He-

A sharp rasp tickled the edges of his senses. It was sudden, yet soft. The delicacy was familiar... Was it...?

With his hearing, he reached out to the girl's location, but he didn't find here there. He searched around with his senses, and a hiccup, more audible, directed him further back behind the visible stall. It was the girl, the one at the bao stall.

She was crying.

Iwamaru opened his eyes, breaking his hearing away from the sound. The look on his face was one part shock, one part concern. Inside, he burned to know why she was so distraught... but he knew that it wasn't his place. His concern would be his to keep and his to bear. He only hoped that it was nothing truly serious.

Even as he walked away, Iwamaru knew that was a lie.
Instinct Training, Day Four - Separating Human Voices in Loud Areas: Third Day

Iwamaru came early to the marketplace on his final day of training, still perturbed by the distraught weeping of the girl from the bao stand he'd heard yesterday. He promised himself that he'd meet her after his training today, and he would be keeping that promise. But instead of doing so for his own interest, he wanted to leave a small gift of money for the family. It wasn't much, and he knew that money was likely only to help very little, but he felt it out of place to offer anything more personal. He would not forget the lesson he'd learned about making assumptions from Shizuo after meeting his mother. This was the best way to help for now.

After doing the object tracking warm-up exercise with his eyes, now managing to build the total up to fifty different points of interest within that hour, he closed his eyes, searching for the old man. He would see if he could manage to capture a three-way conversation and keep track of everything that was being said. That would be a fitting-

"...target..."

Iwamaru froze. Target? Is there another shinobi in the area? Do I need to go assist? Iwamaru immediately pushed his senses to the limit to try and track the location of the whispering. If there was a shinobi pursuing a criminal, his unintentional knowledge and foresight could be the advantage he'd need to get the drop on the crook and put them away.

"...marketplace... fourth quadrant."

Slowly, but surely, the speech was becoming clearer by the second. Good, so the criminal was in this quadrant. That meant they were close. If Iwamaru needed to offer support, he'd be in a position to offer assistance quickly. What else could he learn from the chatter?

"...Sitting... near merchant booths."

Ah, so perhaps this was a sting operation? The person they were after was trying to blend in with the merchants in the quadrant. The criminal was smart, but not smart enough. Mixing themselves in with merchants under a disguise was a good way to fool most people, but shinobi would see through such thinly veiled deceptions. Alright, he almost had enough information to locate the target and rendezvous with his fellow shinobi. He just needed a little more information and then-

"Old man... running a pelt shop just across the way."

Iwamaru was surprised. Really?! The old man with the skins? He'd heard weirder-

"The target is sitting near the old man selling the animal pelts, just down the way from the bao bun stall."

...What.

"He's just sitting there, doing nothing. Advise for the next course of action."

Iwamaru's blood ran cold. There was only one person that could fit that description at the present moment in time. Taking a deep breath, he reached back into his pack and palmed one of his smoke bombs as casually as he could. This was no joke. This was real.

His life was in danger.

"Understood. Disengaging now."

Iwamaru listened with his heart beating through his chest as the speaker suddenly vanished from his range of perception. Iwamaru's breath came out in a ragged sigh as the tension released all at once. What was that? Was there someone...? No. There couldn't be. He was nothing. A nobody. He must have simply assumed that-

"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

Iwamaru's eyes snapped to the source of the sound, and he found his green eyes staring into the soft sapphire gaze of the young girl from the bao bun stand. She stood about five-foot-six inches with beautiful black hair and caramel brown skin. Her voice full of tender compassion and eyes filled with empathy, she offered Iwamaru a small bundle of bao buns. "Here. Take some. I saw you arrive early this morning. You haven't eaten anything, have you?"

With but a few words, she coaxed him into a relaxed state. With a timid smile, he accepted her offer. "Thank you very much... um...?"

"Mitsuko. You are...?" she asked, a gentle smile adorning her rosy cheeks.

"Iwamaru. Well met, Mitsuko-san," he offered in return, a curt nod as he fought with every fiber of his being to not blush. He'd been secretly building a mental image of what he thought she'd look like in his head, and he found out his expectation had been completely wrong.

She was more beautiful than he'd thought she'd be.

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