No One Can Stop Me. [Lonely Training]

[Ree]

Takiru Senju woke from a light sleep. The sun was just rising as he dressed and planned his day. There was nothing scheduled that he needed to attend to, so he began his day as just about any other day. He contemplated ways he could further his strength as a shinobi. This thought was met by several answers; he could be stronger, faster, be more instinctive or gain more control. Beyond that, he could take the opportunity given to him to work on his Taijutsu; his physical techniques, stances, and abilities, or his Genjutsu; his illusionary techniques, regardless of how they would be onset. Although Ninjutsu was his specialty, he often reminded himself not to neglect other areas while striving for perfection in one. Ultimately, he decided to focus on the more physical arts, being Taijutsu; hand to hand combat and more physical chakra applications, so to speak. For Takiru, this meant seeking out a more hand to hand combat based progression in combat abilities. However, this premise; i.e. shinobi to shinobi combat styling was not always accessible. This meant that Takiru would have to no doubt improvise. Generally, this meant utilizing whatever or whoever may be available. This would include general hand to hand combat, sparring with inanimate objects, and specific stances and styles specifically.

Upon dressing, Takiru stretched and packed his equipment before exiting his room. He met his mother in the kitchen area where she was preparing a morning meal. His father must have had something to attend to as he was nowhere in immediate sight. Takiru was not usually particularly hungry in the morning, but given what was on his itinerary for the day he forced down the meal his mother prepared. He could tell this made his mother happy as he usually opted out of breakfast. He asked where his father was and she informed him he went into the village to get some tea. Takiru told her his plan for the day and said he would be back by sundown, and exited his home, located within the Senju compound in the Hidden Leaf Village; Konohagakure no Sato. He began his excursion by placing his Konoha forehead protector right under his hairline, and tying it tightly into a knot behind the base of his skull. After doing so, Takiru began thinking more specifically about training session ahead of him. This meant that he was prepared for anything and everything, regardless of how big or how small the challenge may be. Although he had high standards for himself, Takiru expected little to no results from his peers, as he always possessed a first class; top of his competition mentality. He tried not to be condescending or ever disrespectful of an opponent of his by neglecting or even second guessing them to any extent possible. However, Takiru’s natural personality often reflected itself in multiple ways, including being overly ambitious in his endeavors, no matter how calculated he may be. This has always proved to be a pro and a con depending on who is on the outside looking in and what they are looking for. With that thought in mind, Takiru never cared what others thought of sought anyone else’s approval besides his own. He hopes to find a sparring partner but wouldn’t be upset if it came to exercising and practicing Taijutsu maneuvers.

Within Konoha, there were several places in which Takiru considered favorable to train. In this thought, he considered where to begin training Taijutsu specifically. His first thought was to remain within the Senju compound, possibly sparring among his clan members. He considered this for a moment and began to weigh this location against other possible ones. There would be more variety in the compound, however part of him wanted a little privacy. This led to his second thought, which was the outskirts of the village in a heavily wooded area. This would give him privacy but also most likely eliminate sparring partners from the session. Maybe he would train alone and come back to the compound for a sparring session, or even vice verse while he was still in the compound. Each location had their benefits and disadvantages, and he was still deciding as he neared the entrance of the compound.

Lost in his thoughts, Takiru did not notice his father returning to the compound. In fact he almost walked right past his father, who was in conversation with another Senju clansman. Upon noticing his son, Taski paused and told his relative they would finish their conversation later. Takiru snapped out of his focused daze, and greeted his father just at the entrance.

“Where are you headed to, Takiru?” His father asked him. Takiru told his father he wanted to spend the day training, particularly in the area of Taijutsu and was deciding how to go about it. He laid out his two ideas in front of his father and asked his opinion, even though he didn’t really need the input. “Why don’t you start within the compound? Spar with one of your clan peers to gauge where you should be focusing your efforts.” This made sense to Takiru, as he was already leaning in that direction on his own. “Pick someone.” He said confidently, turning back from the compound’s exit and slowly making his way to a small, barren clearing that would serve as the training ground. Taski followed close behind and others were passing by observing them curiously. Taski began tracing a medium sized circle around Takiru, who was in the very center. The circle was about seven meters in diameter. “Who shall I spar with?” Takiru asked his father once more, who again responded with a grin. This time Takiru became irritated. “I don’t have time for this, Father. I can train by my—“ In an instant, Takiru was swept off his feet and landed firmly on his back, just about knocking the air out of him. Jumping to his feet ready to fight, he thought he was attacked from behind. To Takiru’s surprise, it was his father who assaulted him, with what must have been a low sweeping leg kick. “I am your opponent.” Taski finally answered his son.

Takiru was up for any challenge, but couldn’t keep the surprise off his face. Still he put his fists up in the most generic fighting stance possible. His father laughed. “Whoever goes outside of the circle loses.” Wanting to get back at his father, Takiru threw all strategy and calculation out the window and charged forward, aiming a reckless haymaker at his father’s chin. Taski side stepped, caught the punch, and launched Takiru several meters and well out of the dirt circle. He skidded across the ground and stirred up a small dirt cloud. Frustrated, Takiru rose and gathered his composure. He let his anger get the best of him, causing him to act irrationally and out of character. Even though he was eager to best his father, he would approach the challenge more strategically this time. Takiru stepped back into the ring and took another fighting stance. His father remained in his default pose and posture, taunting and underestimating his son. This time, Takiru lunged forward and feinted like he was throwing another right handed punch, twisting and cocking his arm back slightly. He noticed his father shift his balance to his own right side, and Takiru struck. He crouched quickly and attempted his own low kicking spinning leg sweep. Even though he caught his father off guard, the kick didn’t have the same effect as when it was performed on Takiru. Rolling with the blow, Taski landed on one hand, and horizontally threw a kick at Takiru’s face. Takiru was still low to the ground and off balance, his leg still slightly extended. He put his arms up, sacrificing his remaining balance to protect his face. The blunt force of the kick caused Takiru to fall backwards and on his bottom. Just as quickly, his father rose and reached for his right leg, grabbing Takiru by his right ankle. Anticipating what his father was about to do, he scooped up a handful of dirt before the rotation could begin. Taski attempted to spin Takiru around to gain the momentum needed to send him flying out of the ring again, but Takiru had other plans. Even if this was fighting dirty, Takiru would do anything to gain some kind of advantage since he was at such a disadvantage to begin with by sparring with a much more experienced shinobi. After one complete rotation, minimal momentum was gained, and Takiru threw the pile of dirt diagonally right into his father’s face. This caused Taski to let go and bring both hands to his face, temporarily blinded. Takiru used the momentum from the first spin to roll backwards and onto his feet, near the edge of the ring while his father stood in the middle, rubbing his eyes. Without hesitation, Takiru rushed forward and punched his father as hard as he could in the stomach region; more specifically his solar plexus. His father was still trying to regain his vision and let out a grunt of pain as his son returned the favor of knocking the wind out of him. Takiru’s assault wouldn’t stop here, as he threw two more punches into his father’s mid section, forcing him to take some staggering steps backward. Now having regained a majority of his vision, Taski reached to catch Takiru’s next punch. “You sneaky little…” Takiru saw his father’s hands rising in anticipation for a punch, and halted, spinning on his left foot and pivoting into a spinning kick, knocking his father flat on his tailbone as he sat right by the edge of the ring. Realizing his son had the upper hand, Taski prepared to fight dirty as well. Takiru ran forward to deliver the final blow and push his father out of bounds, but just as he prepared his final attack, a root emerged from the dirt and tripped him, sending him airborne. As he was directly above his father, who was on the ground in a sitting position, Taski shifted to his back and put his feet in the air, careful to remain in the ring. He added momentum to the airborne Takiru, and gave him an extra push with his feet, sending Takiru flying out of the ring and once again skidding across the ground.

“That’s not fair! You used Ninjutsu!” Takiru shouted as he rose to his feet and dusted off. His father chuckled and scolded him. “You threw dirt in my eyes first. That wasn’t very honorable.” At this point, a small crowd of Senju clansman had accumulated to watch the father-son face off. “Whatever. This is a waste of time, I won’t improve my Taijutsu this way.” Angry, Takiru turned and began to walk away. “Hey, hey, hey!” Taski jogged up and grabbed his son by his shoulder, stopping him. “That was just a warm up, relax, kid.” The crowd was dispersing after Takiru’s little tantrum, assuming the combat was done with. Taski ushered his son back into the middle of the dirt ring. With a hand seal, three wooden training dummies rose from the ground. “I know you want to improve. Maybe we should have saved the other exercise for later. This should help me better gauge what you need to work. Take out each of these with different kinds of strikes. Try to be creative.” Without hesitation, Takiru threw a left handed punch at one of the dummies heads, immediately following it with a spinning backfist with his right hand. The first punch barely shifted the dummy, but the second took the head clean off. Takiru would waste no time attacking the second dummy. This time, he started with three consecutive punches. Left, right, left. To finish this dummy off he would rotate, jump and land a spinning kick. Takiru’s rotation was slow, and did not decapitate the dummy as easily. The head was still partly attached, and Takiru simply slapped it off, scoffing as he felt his father’s judgemental eyes burning into him. For the final dummy, Takiru wrapped around it from behind, as if to put it in a chokehold. He squeezed, trying to rip it’s head off. He was very obviously struggling, but eventually pulled the head of the dummy clean off. His father did not appear impressed in the slightest. Shaking his head, he began to dissect Takiru’s sloppy maneuvers. “First of all, why are you spinning so much? I understand the idea, but it seems sporadic and more for show than for efficiency. Focus on what you’re good at not what you think will be effective.” Takiru hated being criticized by others, even his father, because his own opinion was the only one that truly mattered to him. However, he was hungry to grow and would listen and consider any advice given to him. “If spinning attacks are something you wish to utilize, focus on that style at a later date. Perfect the basics first. I said be creative, not fancy.” At this, Takiru had to force himself not to roll his eyes. “So what are you suggesting?” Takiru asked, feigning interest in his father’s curriculum. “First, let’s focus on your reaction time and instincts. Stand in the center of the ring, I will summon pillars to rise at random. Strike them as hard as you can as quickly as you can. Focus on punches first.” Takiru nodded, finally feeling that something of some kind of importance would be worked on. Taski exited the dirt circle, and made a hand seal as Takiru took up a stance and prepared for the exercise.

The first wooden pillar would rise quickly from his left. As fast as he could, Takiru would pivot and throw a straight right punch. Just as quickly as the wood shattered, another pillar rose to Takiru’s right. He immediately pivoted back and struck this pillar with the side of his closed fist. He felt the ground tremble slightly, just as he did so. A pillar began to rise directly under him, and his first instinct was to jump. As he jumped, the pillar continued to rise, and Takiru twisted in the air, throwing all of his weight into a punch right to the top of the pillar, splitting it down the middle. Just as he did so, another pillar rose diagonally, hitting Takiru’s feet as he was horizontal in the air. This caused him to do a sideways flip in mid air, landing in a crouched position the the diagonal pillar blocking him from standing up immediately. Still, Takiru rose and threw a strong uppercut, ripping the pillar apart. Two more would rise right in front of him, and he would meet them with two punches intersecting each other, right and left crosses. Behind him, three consecutive pillars rose, creating one very thick pillar. Taski had this in mind to be the final portion of this exercise, calling for consecutive punches. At this point, Takiru’s breathing got heavier and he broke a light sweat. Exerting all of his physical strength, Takiru turned toward the thick pillar and punched as hard as he could. His hand went into the wood, splintering and causing his hand to bleed. He followed up with more punches, switching hands with each punch and fighting through the pain from the splinters and his bleeding knuckles. After about ten bunches, the pillar was cut in half and fell. Takiru put his hands on his knees and breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath. His father approached and gave him a solid pat in the middle of his back. “That’s a good start.” Acknowledging Takiru’s bloody hands, his father retrieved some tape and told him to wrap his hands if he was to continue striking with them, though the next exercise would focus on kicking.

After wrapping his hands and forearms in a durable layer of tape and regaining his breath, Takiru and his father would move on to the next part of the regimen. At this point of the day it was around noon, and the compound was bustling with foot traffic and commotion. “Let’s go somewhere more private, shall we?” This was fine with Takiru, he only planned on remaining in the compound to find a sparring partner, and that did not go as planned. “Can we go to the forest?” Taski nodded, knowing the forest was not only Takiru’s favorite place to train, but also his happy place, his favorite place in general. With this being decided, they exited the Senju compound together, and proceeded to make their way through the village, to the outskirts. Walking through the village, Takiru asked his father what else they would be working on specifically. He was informed that after basic reaction skills with a focus on punching, they would work on kicking, mixed striking, and wrestling exercises. After this was complete, they would again spar. This time, for real, with no gimmick like a ring to restrict movement. As they reached the outskirts of the village and entered the wooded area, Takiru took a deep breath. Being a Senju, the forest, and nature in general, brought Takiru peace that just couldn’t be achieved anywhere else, especially within the populated village.

“Pick a tree. Begin with the fundamental kicks. This part will be repetitive. You need to perfect your form and general mechanics before you start adding things such as mobility and spins.” Takiru walked up to a thick tree, and took his stance. Letting out a shout, Takiru threw a high kick into the trunk of the tree. “Again,” his father commanded, “plant your feet and stand firmly.” Takiru again aimed a high kick with his right leg, keeping his left foot planted firmly on the ground to maintain optimal balance. Again and again, Takiru practiced this high kick with his right leg. After a countless amount of kicks, he would switch legs, this time planting his right foot and throwing the high kick with his left leg. Over and over, he performed these high kicks until his feet were sore, but not quite in the same rough condition as his hands were in. At this point, the tree was beginning to show some signs of the damage Takiru was causing with his repetitive kicks. His father observed quietly for about one hundred total kicks until he told his son to stop. “That should suffice as giving you the proper base for the high kick.” Takiru was tired at this point, but he wouldn’t stop until he felt he had made a lot of progress. Having the fundamentals down was not enough for Takiru. He wouldn’t stop training until he was physically unable to continue. “Now, deflect these only using your feet.” Before he could ask what was meant to be deflected, Taski launched what appeared to be a kunai aimed at his son’s chest. Instinctively, Takiru threw his leg up and kicked the kunai straight up in the air. To his surprise, the kunai was made of wood. This angered him slightly, as his father was taking it easy on him by using wooden kunai. It looked as if Taski was preparing to throw another projectile, but the first one was coming straight down. Ignoring his father’s instruction, Takiru spun around on one foot and kicked the wooden kunai as gravity pulled it back towards the Earth, sending it into a tree where it became lodged. Takiru had just enough time to kick another kunai that was sent in his direction, but not enough to deflect the one that followed it. With his leg in the air after deflecting the first kunai, the second kunai piercing into the back of his calf. At this point, he was thankful his father was only launching wooden projectiles at him. Moaning as the pain made its way through the nerves in his leg, Takiru dislodged the kunai from his leg just as three more were flying towards him at slightly different distances. Thinking quickly, Takiru used the wooden kunai in his hand to deflect the first one, and again jumped to perform a spinning kick. Even if Takiru was no expert, this maneuver was utilized successfully this time, as the first rotation he managed to deflect the second kunai with his left leg and the follow through kick sent the last kunai flying. It appeared that the kunai barrage had ended, and his father approached him slowly. “You didn’t follow the instructions. That quick thinking, however, was impressive.” Takiru was frustrated with himself, regardless of being complimented or not. To add to that feeling, he was now bleeding from the back of his calf. Again, Taski retrieved tape from his pocket and instructed Takiru to take his shoes and leg sleeves. His father wrapped both legs, and when he rose, a creaking noise was heard as wood began to extend from Taski’s neck. This wood formed into a clone of his father. Without hesitation, Takiru jumped to his feet and took his fighting stance. His father grinned and said that he should now try out his luck grappling the Mokuton bunshin; wood clone. Takiru relaxed his stance slightly, and that was his first mistake, as the clone attacked. In his mind he knew the clone wouldn’t put up as tough of fight as his father himself would, and that thought was his second mistake.

Before Takiru could tense himself and shift his weight, the clone was behind him and had it’s arms wrapped around Takiru’s waist. Takiru began to flail, but was lifted in the air, above the clone’s head, and thrown to the ground. Before he could react, the clone was on top of him in an open guard position, with Takiru’s legs wrapped around the clone’s waist. The clone punched Takiru in the face and cocked it’s arm back to punch him again. As it threw the second punch downward, Takiru jerked his head and pulled the clone’s arm to get it’s head close to his body. From here, he forced the clone into a guillotine style head lock, as this was the only thing Takiru felt physically able to do given the situation. Takiru squeezed as hard as he could, but the clone performed a somersault over Takiru’s face and broke the hold. Takiru stood up as quickly as he could but the clone was already closing back in on him. This time Takiru met his grapple and they locked into a clinch. With both of their arms pinned to each other’s sides, Takiru had to think quick. The sturdy and versatile wood clone may have been able to overpower him, and Takiru was not looking forward to being slammed again. Since the clone struck him first, Takiru would return the favor. Bracing himself mentally, he headbutted the wood clone as hard as he could in the face. This caused the clone to loosen its grip just enough for Takiru to maneuver comfortably. In an instant, he grabbed the clone’s head and forced it downward, kneeing it in the face. “Grapple!” His father yelled, but he refused to be at such a significant handicap when he was being struck in the face. Still, he knew was the objective was the clone stood and stumbled backwards from the knee, and Takiru rushed in and got low, wrapping his arms around the clones legs and using every fiber in his being to lift the clone up. Takiru’s face was level to the clone’s knees, and he turned to force the clone toward the ground. He tried to angle the slam so that the clone would land face first. This caused an awkward angle, but he succeeded in his goal. The clone landed on its face in a contorted position. If the clone was a living being, this surely would have snapped its neck. Instead, the sound of splintering wood was heard the clone poofed and disappeared before a follow up attack could be issued out.

Again the sound of creaking wood could be heard, and another clone was rushing towards Takiru before he could even collect himself. The clone attempted to tackle Takiru, but he managed to hold his ground by leaning forward and digging his feet firmly into the ground. Having shifted his body weight, the clone was unable to lift him directly up. Takiru lifted a leg and threw another knee. This one struck the clone on the crown of the head, and Takiru used this opportunity to maneuver around to the clone’s back. Doing his best to lift the clone from behind, it began to struggle and the momentum sent Takiru falling on his back with the clone on top of him. They both rolled backwards and ended up in the exact same position. This time Takiru moved quickly and wrapped his arms around the clones neck, just as he had done with the wooden dummies at the Senju compound. This hold gave up his leverage, and the clone stood with ease, with Takiru now helpless in a piggy back style position. The clone jumped straight up with its back, and therefore Takiru’s back, aiming straight for the ground. Even as he braced himself for the impact, his grip was loosened quite a bit. He knew the clone couldn’t take too much damage, but there was no doubt it was slightly faster than him. The clone rolled off of Takiru to a side guard position and attempted to put him in some sort of arm contorting submission. It wasn’t locked in all the way, but already Takiru could feel the tension in his left arm as it was being bent in an unnatural direction. Using all the energy he had left at the moment, he forced another backwards somersault and withdrew a true metal kunai from his pocket. His arm burned with pain as it was twisted even more, but he immediately thrust the kunai into the throat of the wood clone, causing it to dissipate.

Rising to his normal posture, Takiru breathed deeply and heavily. So far, he had to abandon all the limits his father had placed on him. For a Genin to fend off two Jounin level wood clones, however, he expected his father to cut him some slack. And he did. “Given the circumstances, I think you are getting some of the hand to hand combat fundamentals down. You definitely have a strong survival instinct.” Takiru simply kept breathing, trying to regain his normal breathing rate. “What do you say we take a break and go get something to eat?” His father asked him, seeming genuinely concerned that Takiru may be close to over exerting himself. “Come on.” He stated, and turned to lead the way out of the wooded area. “No!” Takiru shouted, striking his fighting stance once more. “Food can wait. Rest can wait. I need this!” Takiru often let his desire to become stronger block out the need to take care of himself. His father sighed, and turned back around, knowing that feeling all too well. “You are stubborn Takiru. Just like I was at your age.” Taski paused, and decided he should still attempt to persuade his son into resting for a minute, as he had been using clones to push him far. He knew Takiru was not quite yet at his limit, but he was nearing it. In the middle of his thought, a kunai was flying at Taski’s face. Barely tilting his head enough to dodge it, he realized he let his guard down and his son was taking advantage. Once he realized what Takiru had done, he had already closed the distance between them. As he got into arms reach of his father, Takiru mimicked his attack from inside the compound, planting a strong right handed punch into his father’s stomach. This caused Taski to gasp and bend over, and Takiru wrapped his arms around his father’s head and placed him in a headlock. Reacting now, Taski would stand up straight in a quick, fluid motion, bringing Takiru with him. He attempted to launch Takiru into a front flip maneuver over his head. Takiru used the momentum from the launch to finish rotating and land on his feet. Both shinobi turned and faced each other at the same time, and immediately began trading blows. Taski blocked the three punches that Takiru threw, and answered with a quick jab of his own. Takiru managed to tilt his head at an angle and dodge this just quick enough to notice his father dropped down. Given how this whole training session started back in the dirt ring in the Senju compound, he knew what was coming; that low sweeping leg kick. Takiru jumped just far enough off the ground that the kick would go right under him. While this motion turned Taski away from Takiru directly, Takiru took that moment to cock his arm back and land a devastating blow to the side of his father’s head, knocking him to the ground onto his stomach. Stunned, Taski had no time to react to Takiru putting him in the same arm hold that his wooden clone had him in. Takiru was only replicating it, however, and wasn’t completely doing it perfectly. Still, he had a good enough idea, and his version locked in, contorting his father’s arm. “Tap!” Takiru demanded triumphantly, but he heard his father’s rebuttal before he noticed it. That creaking sound of Mokuton, the wood coming from his father’s body and sculpting itself into a clone of him. Startled, the young Senju let go of his hold, and his father sprung back into action, somersaulting forward and standing back up. His father made a hand seal, and more wood was emitted from his body, forming a second clone. In an instant, both of the wood clones rushed Takiru. His father was ready to end this, and make a statement. He knew defeating Takiru always pushed him to train even harder next time, and that was his plan. But he was underestimating his son. One clone aimed a clothesline at Takiru’s throat while the other aimed a dropkick at his knee caps. Takiru jumped to dodge the drop kick, and let the clothesline hit him in the midsection. Using the clone’s momentum against it, he gripped it’s arm and forced it to the ground, mimicking the move his father used to throw him out of the ring for the last time. He used both feet to propel the clone and send it flying into a tree. By the time he stood back up, the other clone was attacking again. It swung recklessly at Takiru’s head, but he ducked and came back up with an uppercut strong enough to pick the clone up off the ground by an inch. Before it hit the ground again, Takiru performed the low sweeping leg kick, toppling the clone. The first clone appeared behind Takiru and wrapped him in a hug, holding him in place for the other clone to attack freely. He knew the clones could not withstand much more damage, but still he appeared to be in a bind as the prone clone got to its feet and took advantage of the situation. The clone landed two punches to Takiru’s chest and stomach and one to his face before he jumped up and pushed it back with his legs. The clone held his weight, and when he landed back on the ground he threw his head back, into the face of the clone. The clone released him, and he spun around and landed a quick barrage of mixed punches. He looked over his shoulder just in time to see the other clone rushing towards them. The clone jumped and performed a flying kick. Just in the nick of time, Takiru dropped to the ground, and the clone landed the kick on the other clone, causing it to dissipate into wood. With this opening, Takiru wrapped his arms around the waist of the clone from behind and used every ounce of energy he has left to lift the clone completely over his body. Falling backwards, he slammed the clone over his head and landed in a bridge position, causing this clone too to disperse into just a lump of wood.

Laying flat on his back now, Takiru struggled to catch his breath. He didn’t want to stop training, but he knew he was just about at his limit and he would pay for it if he continued. He heard his father walking up to him, slowly applauding. Unfortunately, Takiru was never able to tell his father was being genuine or sarcastic. “Impressive. You held your own and didn’t cheat that time. Your sneak attack was executed well, too.” Takiru scoffed in between breaths, still lying on his back staring up at his father looking down on him. “That was hardly a sneak attack. Just caught you off guard.” Taski smiles at Takiru, and extended his arm to help him up. Even though this was an honest gesture, Takiru took it as disrespectful, a way of saying he was too weak to stand on his own. He pushed his father’s hand away and jumped to his feet, still breathing heavily. His father raised an eyebrow. “Are you done now, Takiru?” At this point, the sun was beginning to set and Takiru’s stomach rumbled audibly over his heavy breathing. His father laughed and repeated his offer to get food before they headed home for the night. “Head home?! I thought we were just taking a break.” Taski shook his head. “It’s best not to keep your mother waiting all night. You can continue training tomorrow.” Takiru rolled his eyes. He was in fact hungry, so he would eat and return to the compound. However, he had no plan of waiting until the next day to continue. He didn’t need anyone’s help either.

As they walked through the village, Takiru regained control of his breath and his sweat dried, causing him to feel chilly. They stopped at a small restaurant and placed an order to go, hoping that Takiru’s mother; Taski’s wife, didn’t prepare dinner in advance. As they walked back to the Senju compound, dusk was descending upon them. They passed many people and many shops, some stands and some small buildings that required walking into. Takiru’s father tried small talking him several times, but he was not in the mood for small talk. This lead to a long awkward silence as both of them reflected on the days events. This began with their bout in the makeshift ring Taski had created within the compound, ending with Takiru attacking him directly in the forest and defeating his wood clones. As they approached the entrance to the Senju compound, bags of food in tow, Taski stopped walking. Takiru did the same, but did not turn toward his father until he began speaking.

“Takiru, you are very talented. Very impressive. But I am worried about you.” Although this hit a certain nerve within Takiru, as his father constantly pushed him to be the strongest, and he had heard many stories of his father pushing himself, he shrugged it off as he would anything else coming from anyone else. Turning toward his father, Takiru replied, “There is nothing to be worried about, father.” He did not notice an immediate change in his father’s demeanor, however, after a few moments, he noticed that he looked uneasy. Takiru was confused, as he thought his father wanted him to behave this way, with a killer instinct and drive to improve indefinitely. Even if he was wrong in his interpretation all along, he did not care. He was young and set in his ways. His father simply replied. “Alright”, and they continued their now short trek into their clan’s compound.

As they entered the compound, Takiru still only had one thing on his mind, and that was to continue his training. He decided that he would eat to regain some lost energy, fake go to sleep, and sneak out to continue his training. As he sat at the dinner table with his parents, they all ate in mostly silence. Thankfully, Takiru’s mother had anticipated the events of the day and did not, in fact, have dinner prepared, as Takiru and Taski had feared. Eventually, about halfway through their meal, Takiru’s mother broke the silence by asking a simple question. “How did today go? I did not expect both of you to be gone the entire day.” Takiru and his father both looked at one another, and scoffed. Takiru said nothing. His father explained how, after his morning tea, he ran into their son as he exited the compound. Though he did not go into graphic detail, he explained that they had a few training sessions within the compound itself, before going to the outskirts of the village and finishing their training for the day. In the back of his mind, Takiru found it funny that his father thought that he was done for the day. Takiru was developing a certain hunger; a thirst for power that simply couldn’t be quenched. Training alone was simply the tip of the iceberg. Who knows where his ambition would take him once he reached the peak of physical training. Until then, that was his goal: To reach the apex of training. Takiru finished dinner in silence, and informed his parents that he would be heading to bed early. Almost reluctantly, they both agreed, and dismissed him from the table. Deep down, Takiru hated being treated like a child, as it felt the same as being treated as inferior. However, he knew that respecting his elders, especially those who gave birth to him, was an aspect of life that needed to be followed.

In his room, now alone with his thoughts, all Takiru could do was focus on becoming stronger. Until he knew his parents were in bed themselves, he simply worked out, performed various calisthenics. After about half an hour, he was sure his parents had gone to bed, regardless of whether or not they were actually sleeping at that point. At this point, he slowly opened his bedroom window, as it was on the first floor, and hopped out his window. At this time in the night, the Senju compound was dark and quiet. Regardless, there were a few stragglers coming and going, and Takiru fit in perfectly amongst them. The dark kept his identity concealed, while his presence within the compound itself boasted enough to ensure he was a Senju. Takiru followed the exact same path him and his father had made earlier that day, making his way back through the village alone and at night. There were far less people out at this time of night, but Takiru moved in a paranoid fashion, lurking in the shadows for fear of being recognized.

Eventually, he made his way back to the outskirts of the village, right back to the wooded clearing him and his father had been training at. This time, there would be no clones, no dummies, and no instructor. Just Takiru, in his natural element, just him and the trees. To top off his Taijutsu training for the day, even though it was nearing midnight, Takiru decided to pick the biggest tree he could find, and chop it down with nothing but his arms, hands, legs, and feet. This search alone proved difficult enough, as almost all the trees looked the same in the darkness of the night. At some point, Takiru gave up on looking for the biggest tree, as the search alone took up a significant amount of time. Settling upon a thick, hundred year old tree, Takiru began his assault, repeating all the striking tactics he had practiced throughout the day. First, he breathed in, and began with a few kicks to the outer bark of the large tree. At first, this simply did cosmetic damage, hardly making an actual dent in the tree itself. After a few solid kicks, Takiru began an onslaught of punches. These punches and kicks barely affected him, as he was still taped up from the prior training sessions. Even though the tape on each of his limbs were inevitably drenched in blood, he continued to hack away at the tree using his limbs. After what seemed like an endless barrage of right and left punches and back handed strikes, Takiru began mixing up his approach to minimize the damage to his hands and feet. A few kicks, a few punches and elbows, and so on. Before he knew it, Takiru was about three quarters of the way through the entire tree, and he could hear the wood creaking. The creaking noises brought about flashbacks of his father conjuring wood clones to do his bidding. This post traumatic stress symptom did not stop Takiru from being relentless. In fact, it caused him to strike the tree even harder. Alternating limbs, he kept going until there was inches left keeping the tree upright. By this point, the tree had let nature take its course and began to fall over. Even as the creaking sound grew more severe, Takiru planted two more kicks, one last punch, and finished the tree off with a spinning kick, planting his left heel into the most thin part of the tree. Then, there was an extremely loud snap, as the tree that he had been working on finally gave in and came crashing to the ground. Barely jumping out of the way in time, Takiru coughed as a large cloud of dirt and dust filled his immediate surroundings. The sound of the tree hitting the ground was enough to startle all surrounding wildlife, though Takiru was far enough in the outskirts that he was confident no one else would be alarmed. Even though he wasn’t as exhausted as he was after facing off against his father’s wood clones, Takiru felt accomplished. At least he improved way more than the level he was at in his previous days. As the tree crashed down, it miraculously missed the trunks of other large trees, and almost surgically removed the branches of other trees instead.

Feeling satisfied with his long days work, battered and bloody, Takiru headed back to the Senju compound even more stealthily than he had returned to his favorite training area. Within no time, he reentered the Senju compound, and climbed back into his open window. Apparently, his parents had been none the wiser, and he shed his clothes, removed the bloody tape, and got into his bed, opting to bathe in the morning. At this point, Takiru was fully exhausted. But, at least he could go to bed feeling like he accomplished everything he possibly could in one day. With that, he dozed off into a graceful sleep, his window wide open.

[7157/7000] Taijutsu Training (7/75 Stat Training)