Today didn't feel as wonderful as it looked. Yeah, the morning came out pretty and the birds sounded beautiful. But the stress and effort Hyuuga Jin had to lend last night, drew all life's beauty to the side for a bit. A moment of his time had to be filled with relief. Many of those hospitalized were catching a small viral infection, and spread by the hour, with more people entering and exiting, requesting for a treatment. Some of the rare cases had fallen into his arms, where someone had felt so sick; nearly died on the bed. Miraculously, no one died last night; but in place for their great gain was Hyuuga Jin's sleep pattern and energy.
Normally Jin woke up early in the morning, and fixed tea for anyone inside the clan's courtyard. He was late this time. From how the sun looked in the season they were sitting in, and where it sat, allowed Jin to make an approximation that it just turned noon; due to the fact that the weather this year had to be autumn, the sun kind of look dim. The breeze from out his window started pressing against the Hyuuga's whole body soon as he planted his feet on the floor, on his way getting dressed.
With a nice meal of congee and tea, and began boiling up more tea for the rest of the clan out in the courtyard. A grin finally grew when he could smell the tea. From the way that he slept, his nose clogged and couldn't smell the first time making tea. Everyone would think a Hyuuga would sleep all proper and peaceful. Not the majority. They were kempt, but not every second of their lives. He knew some of the elderly, including his mother and father, who snore louder than his non-clan Genin teammates or Sensei.
One could say just the memories of his Genin days while sipping tea, with now the ability to smell its spiritual love, could fix all the strain he experienced last night. But making the tea and hoping serve it to his family, in his mind, would make everything feel much better. He's the type who much rather serve others to feel better. Serving himself would make him feel a little too selfish.
When he walked inside the courtyard, he could see five people. All Hyuuga of course, but one he knew straight away. The man was standing there. Ready to press the very air in front of him with all the might he could muster. It was in the Jyuuken style, with himself positioned as traditionally. With only five seconds of time finding the seclusion, and seeing the green and black, the yin and yang, he went with mastery of the skill. Fingers were knocking through the air, causing wind to create large popping sounds. One could even see this as amazingly as they could hear. Then stopped, and stood straight.
And looked at his son, Hyuuga Jin.
"I see. You wish to serve me," he said with an annoyed voice. "You bring dishonor." Again, his delusional attitude of the clan had been mentioned. Jin could not understand his father. He had too much of the strength, and too much of the pride, and never could circle anyway around what had been taught to him. In a way, the old man was the child, and Jin could be the father to teach him the righter path to the clan's philosophy.
As if.
"I want you to prepare yourself right about now..."
With not a chance to place down his tea, his father used Shunshin no jutsu to close in and strike the young ninja. Quickly, Jin ducked from the finger thrust, and provided his own counterstrike: Sacred Thrust. It held similarities to Air Palm, the widely known clan technique. Sacred Thrust carried an additional property in it to win it, requiring Jin to thrust with his fingers in the air, and allow it the press and kick away a load of stamina out of the opponent. Because his father happened to be not even a foot away from him, pain became the inevitable. Probable defeat?
Too bad it didn't happen. Jin learned of his father's might right then. The old man did react to it, almost in a heavy sense. He didn't fly away because the technique naturally aimed at only the stamina, not as actual full gust of pressure. To Jin, he didn't look like his father any longer. He looked like a beast. His hair did fly away, letting it all drizzle over his face. When he looked up, the man appeared like a Nuke-nin, ready to kill with his glaring white eyes.
Have you proven yourself yet?
Have you proven yourself yet?
That's when his father took the perspective of not losing to some medic. Of course he was hurt, but his pride, he tried to make sure that it would never collapse. With all the will he could muster, he grabbed Jin, and started to swing him over the shoulders. With success, he slammed Jin to the ground, still with his hands tightly on Jin's sleeve.
"This is to teach you a lesson... Possibly."
With that, he twisted Jin's arm. Forcing it to create a pop resonation. Pretty much dislocating it to the point of no return. If he wasn't a medical ninja, he would have been done for. The bones were near to fracture, and by the time he reached to the hospital it might have turned excruciating, with possible not chance to return because of the prolong process and weight of the arm. The chances of recovery would be by chance or by the skill of the medic. Luckily, his father allowed him to take a small break and also knew of his medic skills. Half of him didn’t care to look back to see if he was alright. The other half felt annoyed that he knew how to, really, cheat to continue on fighting. The middle aged Hyuuga then went to the audience and told them this was how they trained. Pretty much lying to the people.
While he made up his stories, Jin regenerated his bone using a medical jutsu: Bone Regeneration Technique. In seconds his arm returned back to normal. He could feel the regeneration ring through him and almost tickle away the pain. He didn't feel any joy of it all. But his father seemed to think this was now a game. If he heard Jin cry out in pain in front of the five cousins, dishonor would be on his father. And the dishonor onto him would mean more pain onto Jin. Luckily, Jin could handle this amount of pain for this long, and had been ready to continue battling. Really, he didn't like to fight, but what other options he had left. He could walk away, but the old man would probably reappear in front of him and beat him to a pulp.
The clan didn't mind training, but as human beings, knew the beating a fellow member wouldn't be all too nice. A bit overboard. And they would come and stop it if necessary. They knew Jin's father had some control in his mind, just not to be bathing in or exposed to its light just yet. Eventually, it will hit him. For now, the five could only wait and feel reminiscent, entertainment, and vigilance at the same time.
Once Jin felt that it was time, he sped to the side, trying to preserve the energy he had left. The pain on his arm did tax him a lot, but not entirely to the point that he must fall to his knees and beg for mercy. Maybe, just maybe, the pride of the Hyuuga, the pride to not back down, was within him. For he wouldn't try to run like a chicken with its head cut off from his father. Even if the man had to chase him to the ends of the earth, Jin knew that it would be pointless and shameful a little.
He long abandoned pride, but wasn't the type to allow someone be beat him over and over. He had to keep his stand. Since running would tax out a person anyways, why not try and assist the assailant. It was, in a way, how village ninjas were suppose to act against a culprit. Not thinking that his father was some kind of killer. He was a man of dedication and ignorance, but killing his own offspring defeats the purpose to hold some kind of legacy and respect from others. He much rather die for his people as a honorable ninja than to become a missing ninja out of dissatisfaction about life. When it all came down to it, he too shared to respect the results of fate in the end. Just for right now, having his son a medic ninja may take several more years to accept, but not his whole life.
Trying to rely and strengthen blinded ignorance, Jin's father rushed to the direction Jin was leading, and performed a fuuton technique. His anger showed as much as the technique enforced, knocking Jin to the side with the appearance of a dragon slapping the youth's cheek. After a nice quick breather, his father paced through the courtyard, and leaped his way to his son. Jin hurriedly caught his stomp, which could have taken his chest and smothered it. Luckily he had enough strength to stop it, allow the wind to disperse the dust beneath him. This obviously hurt his arms and made more of consumption of stamina. It showed when he threw his father's feet and body off him, and stood bent: He stumbled.
His eyes felt weary, and couldn't believe the fight could be so long. This had to tear a new hole in his energy when he goes to back to bed a little later. He knew for sure now that he could not go to the hospital. He was too tired and weak. the thought of walking out of this courtyard made him want to faint, but the thought of stopping his father made him, immediately, experience a reenergize.
Throughout their time training, Jin began limping his way to his father, showing that he had to be almost out of stamina by now. His father knew this because of his son's breathing. He too had his stamina cut short because of the powerful strike to the belly by the Sacred Thrust. In a way, he felt honored to be knocked to the level of his own child. He knew that there could be signs of potential in his intellect and feats. All he had to do was leave the life as a medical shinobi. That was all his father would have wanted.
"Why don't you just..." he breathed.”Become Bannin?"
"You just don't get it do you?" Jin replied. "I am doing this for the sake of others, not for the sake of myself!" Almost as if the conversation had initiated his offense, Jin started to release Air Palm. With enough power and speed to group, even though coming in little after Jin, his father released the same technique, with its energy blowing at the same rate of speed and count down towards Jin.
In just a second, both had been hit, and pushed far back. Enough for the two to roll their way back to their feet, balancing themselves to a pause like cats. With the gust of the courtyard’s dirt gathering a sense of emotion to the two’s attacks. Without a word, not even a grunt, the two stood up, and went at it again. Both felt tired, but did not care. One had to take out the other. In Jin’s case, he had to just so he can go work some more in the hospital. In his father’s case, he had to show Jin’s way wasn’t the true ninja way.
Both were hitting each other were raw and on point using Hakke Sho Ranbu. No techniques or chakra were added. Just the pure strength left in them, entered each finger and pressed into the opponent’s respective Tenketsu. There had to be over 150 natural strikes shared. They were this determined to make a point to one another. The feeling between one another had been long and relentless. And both had hopes that the end result of this fight could really convince the other person to their understanding about the true way of the shinobi.
That's when both stopped...
Both fell...
Both went to sleep....
Only to wake up later, in the hospital, in the same treatment room. His father stared at Jin like he had a tempertantrum. Jin couldn't feel the same. He felt foolish ending up in the place he was already going to the hospital... just on the wrong side of the service.
He then placed his head over a palm, and sighed.
The pride will never cease until one is taught that pride holds no real human value...
"This is to teach you a lesson... Possibly."
With that, he twisted Jin's arm. Forcing it to create a pop resonation. Pretty much dislocating it to the point of no return. If he wasn't a medical ninja, he would have been done for. The bones were near to fracture, and by the time he reached to the hospital it might have turned excruciating, with possible not chance to return because of the prolong process and weight of the arm. The chances of recovery would be by chance or by the skill of the medic. Luckily, his father allowed him to take a small break and also knew of his medic skills. Half of him didn’t care to look back to see if he was alright. The other half felt annoyed that he knew how to, really, cheat to continue on fighting. The middle aged Hyuuga then went to the audience and told them this was how they trained. Pretty much lying to the people.
While he made up his stories, Jin regenerated his bone using a medical jutsu: Bone Regeneration Technique. In seconds his arm returned back to normal. He could feel the regeneration ring through him and almost tickle away the pain. He didn't feel any joy of it all. But his father seemed to think this was now a game. If he heard Jin cry out in pain in front of the five cousins, dishonor would be on his father. And the dishonor onto him would mean more pain onto Jin. Luckily, Jin could handle this amount of pain for this long, and had been ready to continue battling. Really, he didn't like to fight, but what other options he had left. He could walk away, but the old man would probably reappear in front of him and beat him to a pulp.
The clan didn't mind training, but as human beings, knew the beating a fellow member wouldn't be all too nice. A bit overboard. And they would come and stop it if necessary. They knew Jin's father had some control in his mind, just not to be bathing in or exposed to its light just yet. Eventually, it will hit him. For now, the five could only wait and feel reminiscent, entertainment, and vigilance at the same time.
Once Jin felt that it was time, he sped to the side, trying to preserve the energy he had left. The pain on his arm did tax him a lot, but not entirely to the point that he must fall to his knees and beg for mercy. Maybe, just maybe, the pride of the Hyuuga, the pride to not back down, was within him. For he wouldn't try to run like a chicken with its head cut off from his father. Even if the man had to chase him to the ends of the earth, Jin knew that it would be pointless and shameful a little.
He long abandoned pride, but wasn't the type to allow someone be beat him over and over. He had to keep his stand. Since running would tax out a person anyways, why not try and assist the assailant. It was, in a way, how village ninjas were suppose to act against a culprit. Not thinking that his father was some kind of killer. He was a man of dedication and ignorance, but killing his own offspring defeats the purpose to hold some kind of legacy and respect from others. He much rather die for his people as a honorable ninja than to become a missing ninja out of dissatisfaction about life. When it all came down to it, he too shared to respect the results of fate in the end. Just for right now, having his son a medic ninja may take several more years to accept, but not his whole life.
Trying to rely and strengthen blinded ignorance, Jin's father rushed to the direction Jin was leading, and performed a fuuton technique. His anger showed as much as the technique enforced, knocking Jin to the side with the appearance of a dragon slapping the youth's cheek. After a nice quick breather, his father paced through the courtyard, and leaped his way to his son. Jin hurriedly caught his stomp, which could have taken his chest and smothered it. Luckily he had enough strength to stop it, allow the wind to disperse the dust beneath him. This obviously hurt his arms and made more of consumption of stamina. It showed when he threw his father's feet and body off him, and stood bent: He stumbled.
His eyes felt weary, and couldn't believe the fight could be so long. This had to tear a new hole in his energy when he goes to back to bed a little later. He knew for sure now that he could not go to the hospital. He was too tired and weak. the thought of walking out of this courtyard made him want to faint, but the thought of stopping his father made him, immediately, experience a reenergize.
Throughout their time training, Jin began limping his way to his father, showing that he had to be almost out of stamina by now. His father knew this because of his son's breathing. He too had his stamina cut short because of the powerful strike to the belly by the Sacred Thrust. In a way, he felt honored to be knocked to the level of his own child. He knew that there could be signs of potential in his intellect and feats. All he had to do was leave the life as a medical shinobi. That was all his father would have wanted.
"Why don't you just..." he breathed.”Become Bannin?"
"You just don't get it do you?" Jin replied. "I am doing this for the sake of others, not for the sake of myself!" Almost as if the conversation had initiated his offense, Jin started to release Air Palm. With enough power and speed to group, even though coming in little after Jin, his father released the same technique, with its energy blowing at the same rate of speed and count down towards Jin.
In just a second, both had been hit, and pushed far back. Enough for the two to roll their way back to their feet, balancing themselves to a pause like cats. With the gust of the courtyard’s dirt gathering a sense of emotion to the two’s attacks. Without a word, not even a grunt, the two stood up, and went at it again. Both felt tired, but did not care. One had to take out the other. In Jin’s case, he had to just so he can go work some more in the hospital. In his father’s case, he had to show Jin’s way wasn’t the true ninja way.
Both were hitting each other were raw and on point using Hakke Sho Ranbu. No techniques or chakra were added. Just the pure strength left in them, entered each finger and pressed into the opponent’s respective Tenketsu. There had to be over 150 natural strikes shared. They were this determined to make a point to one another. The feeling between one another had been long and relentless. And both had hopes that the end result of this fight could really convince the other person to their understanding about the true way of the shinobi.
That's when both stopped...
Both fell...
Both went to sleep....
Only to wake up later, in the hospital, in the same treatment room. His father stared at Jin like he had a tempertantrum. Jin couldn't feel the same. He felt foolish ending up in the place he was already going to the hospital... just on the wrong side of the service.
He then placed his head over a palm, and sighed.
The pride will never cease until one is taught that pride holds no real human value...