Naruto Saigen Roleplay

Jump, duck, kick, roll. Raizou felt his muscles burned as he got into the action of it all. What had been a rare sight, had become the norm for him now. Imagine an opponent, look at their movements and then deal with it efficiently. That was the thing that Raizou needed to do now; to consider what it was he was putting himself up against, and efficiently shut it down. He had no real style, while his movements weren’t bad per-say, he had improved them drastically, they were far from being considered ‘good’. The shadow he was fighting jabbed at his face, clear, refined, smooth; Raizou had no choice but to duck to the left, step forward with his right leg, and then rotate his hips, driving all the energy from his legs upward to his arm, before delivering a clean hook with his right fist.

But it was for nought, the shadow was better trained than him, it stepped within his guard, and before he knew it, a kunai was in his throat, it was surreal as he found himself falling backwards checking his throat, before chuckling. Shadowboxing, envisioning an opponent you’ve fought before, to internalize their movements enough so that you would be capable of reproducing it as a mental image. He wasn't fighting anyone, but even so, it felt real enough as he slipped into the mindset again. He got up and bounced on the heels of his foot, ready to deliver an ass-whopping to someone who was not even standing there to begin with.

He dashed forward, lowering himself close to the ground as he did so, before rapidly stepping to the side and twisting his body around to deliver a quick, but it met air as his invisible sparring buddy stepped back, which Raizou was glad for as it gave him enough room to recover from this large and wasteful movement. Using the momentum of his spinning kick, Raizou threw a backhand with his left fist, keeping it clenched tight in order to keep the space that he had created, and stopped himself once he was facing his opponent directly. There was no movement for a second.

He had to keep on the offensive if he wanted to come out on top here, it was a simple matter of course. To be on the defensive meant he had to make two moves in a fight, to defend, and then to counter-attack. But the person on the offensive simply had to attack, a single aspect to their style. It was why he needed to stay aggressive, while skill would come into play, the numerical advantage that came from being on the attack was hard to overcome.

This was what he was refusing to give up with his haphazard style of attacking. He needed to learn a style, that much was obvious even for the current him. To deliver his attacks in a more concise, and methodical matter was something that not even he could decline the importance of. He stepped forward, and the shadow did so at the same time, it was whoever delivered the first strike, a kunai was brandished but it was not Raizou who was wielding it. A weapon made things more difficult, far more. Raizou swayed forward, letting his upper body lower closer to the ground as he ran, before kicking off the floor harder, his face tilted slightly to the side as he trailing right arm went into his pouch, and his left arm was braced in front of him.

He wasn't skilled enough to disarm this opponent, he was aware of that much. Taking a risk to his body was also not preferable, a mission could go on for weeks, and a large injury would mean to fail it automatically unless a medic was with them. What was it that Sensei of his used to say to him? ”You’re bright Raizou, but you’re also a massive idiot. You’re too cautious, craftiness is useful but there’s a limit to that.” He could hear her words in his ears as if it was only yesterday. A part of him smiled, it was his failures that pushed others away from him, and it was his failure that had led to Nanako’s death, the guilt of that would most likely never fade. To manage it, to make it not eat him from the inside, Raizou had to get better.

The invisible kunai was heading in an arc towards his head, a downwards stab. Low to the floor, Raizou had no choice but to kick off the floor, and spin, altering his direction of attack before throwing the kunai at his opponent mid-spin, so that the second his feet touched the floor, he could kick-off. It was a diversion, it wasn't intended to hit to begin with. His opponent stepped to the side before dashing towards him, but Raizou had other ideas. Don’t go on the defensive, keep attacking. It was as simple as that, he drew another Kunai and closed in, craftiness was useful, but it had its limits. Ability spoke louder than anything else.

He wasn't fast enough to use a jutsu in this kind of close-quarters either. It was never going to be anything so spectacular. It was as simple as that, Raizou met the Kunai with his own, the clash rang in his ears, memories of another battle. It wouldn’t go the way as the other one did, to aim for an opponents neck was the obvious action. But a shinobi lived and died by their legs, it was as simple as that. It was enough to counter his consideration of what he should have done, he swayed forward pressing his weight behind the Kunai, forcing his shadowlike opponent to do the same, before he quickly shifted his weight, spinning on the toes of his left in order to deliver a backhand with Kunai in hand, lowering his waist and bending his knees as he did so, aiming for his opponent’s neck, but it was jumped over, and before Raizou knew it, a Kunai had embedded itself in his head.

A style, Raizou had to form one. One that worked for him, one that exemplified what it was that he could do right now. He had skimped on a lot, but he had some tools that he had on hand, were it the case he did not, all that was left was to throw away his headband right now. But at least his sensei did not allow him that, he could draw a set of fuin, and he had some of his clans jutsu on hand, even some standard ninjutsu. It was all basic, but he did not have any style of hand to hand, nor did he have experience in that field.

”Oi, numbnuts. There’s no point in stringing together a bunch of random jutsu, you hear me? First master what you have, work on that, and then, make some more your own. Eventually you’ll have a style that’s really truly you. But don’t rush, and don’t force it, well I guess there’s no point telling you that, really. If you put in some more effort, you would have your own style by now.”

-

One’s own style, he could vaguely picture the style of his sensei, and he could picture what his teammates. But he? He had none of that, it had been so long since then too, it was strange but now all of those old words were coming back to him.

”Well, I can’t be dawdling right now.“ He looked at the target in front of him, looking at the tools in his arsenal, the choice was simple. To keep his distance, he was too frail, and nowhere near experienced enough. He had targets placed all around the training field, now it was simply a matter of beating it into his body. He grabbed the Kunai from his pocket and threw it at the target. That much was simple, hitting it was par for the course at this point in time.

But that was just a singular kunai, a singular projectile. He had to keep it going, to reach into his pockets and to up the speed while moving. He dashed to the left, and threw one, before trying to immediately follow up with another, but the stream was cut there, to not interrupt his own arms was difficult in the middle of the movement, as well as to avoid the rock right in front of him. He had accepted he would not be moving very quickly what so ever, but to not be able to throw properly was a bigger blow in this regard.

There was something wrong with his basic method of utilizing them, was he supposed to have them prepared in his hands to begin with? Yes, but it was to keep a constant stream, he remembered what he had read the night before, to reach, move and shoot, rinse and repeat. It was repetition and proper movement that would allow him to reach that. He picked up his weapons and restarted the process again.

So he drew five kunai, in one hand, and threw, as his arm drew back, he used his other to reach for a set of kunai, three, and began throwing them, one by one. It was simple enough, while standing still that was. Return, throw, return, throw. It was repetitive, but that was the purpose, things that weren’t beaten into one’s own body were uselss in an actual fight. The bigger issue was that having a full hand of kunai actually worsened his overall aim…
Perhaps the goal in this scenario was simply to utilize two Kunai? He considered it, two kunai. One between his index and middle finger, and one between his middle and ring finger. It was about the moment of release. He swung out his right arm like a whip, from his chest outwards, bending his elbow along with the swing of his shoulder, he felt his arm reach the apex of that movement, swing his hips alongside that, and as he swung his body back to his starting position, he released the second, before moving to do so for his other arm.

”That’s it, I’ve got it.” It was that simple, and while he was doing the sway, all he needed to do was to grab his kunai with the unbusy hand. It led to a constant flurry of attacks based simply on how quick he was. It was as simple as it could be, but that would be a powerful card one day. Now to move, he knew as long as his hips were on it, he could only move so fast. So he did, and ran sideways, facing the target as he did so, going for his kunai, he swung his arm, whipped it out, and as it entered the maximum of its outwards movement, he brought his arm back to throw it, twisting his hips, he did the same with his other arm. Four kunai, two movements. It was something he could build off of.

Now to improve his own aim, Raizou had missed both times that he had tried it while moving. The only thing that worked here was repetition, he just had to keep reminding himself of that. ”Lets roll.” He had to keep moving, no point in stopping. Someone who ran a lot shouldn’t look at his surroundings to gauge if he’s running into something or not, that was the point of one’s peripherals, he just needed to look at his target. To get a gauge for them, to know where they were. Before releasing a stream of attacks, he whipped his arms, and turned his waist just like before, braced his legs on one step, and then step off again. Timing it for the moment in his strides where at least one of his feet were on the ground. This aided his aim, as he looked at the target. One of his kunai had embedded itself in there. ”I’ll practice for the rest of the day I guess.”

[788/700] D-rank Training.

Raizou could feel it, the strain from the day before. But he was back here again, to perfect what should be in his arsenal already. A long-range style, to make use of his existing tools. He remembered full well, he tried it, and found his marks all hitting the target. But that was a target, it was not an actual thing. That was why he went through a series of hand signs, before a load of lights appeared to coalesce in front of him, forming a copy of himself formed out of it. A clone. It was not very strong, nor sturdy. But it was good enough.

Now that thing moved, the second it was made Raizou didn’t have a choice but to draw his kunai, to adjust for his opponent meant to consider them a moving target with all the problems that draws forth. The clone dashed around, and he threw, it was a miss. It was supposed to, but he was supposed to hit where they were going to move to, rather than where they were. He braced himself, and moved himself, to throw multiple kunai to reinforce his lesson from the day before, two in each hand, and to throw them one at a time, before reloading.

He had to envision his opponent, this clone was moving randomly, but it was based on a pattern. He would have to adjust to it, and envision it properly. They took two steps to the left, then in front, then dash. It was going to be a matter of experience, which was an issue of something that he had made. He threw the kunai, and then another both in the path of his opponent, gauging his clones slow speed was simple, and it was hit easily enough. This wouldn’t do for training, anyone could deal with this much. It was bad preparation, he needed something that matched where it was he was in his learning curve.

”Lets go hunting.” He wasn't a monster, people weren’t an option in this. He had to deal with...Animals. Birds were the hardest, and boars as well as deer inhabited this place. He would have to avoid the Nara clan’s deer, so he moved. And soon enough, a deer was in front of his path, a group of them, small and definitely not Nara deer. He had to spook them, so he stepped forward loudly to make them run, and he focused on one, the one at the front, the fastest. He took off to the trees, and began to move, loading his kunai, now he needed to view them from above, and envision their speed. To bring them down fully, that meant to load a lot into it.

They weren’t as soft as their body seemed to suggest, a wild beast t His aim hat grew up in a tough environment. The fastest and biggest of them all, Raizou would bring it down. He aimed, but the second he fired, there was no doubt that he had missed his shot. The kunai sailed through where the deer had passed through a second earlier, far too early of a throw. It was about mindset, and vision, to notice the general speed of his opponent and then gauge where they would be when he threw his kunai. His kunai was faster than the deer he was trying to hit, but it was not so fast that he could expect to hit it without any adjustments. It was a projectile, with all the woes that its kind held, the air worked against it, it lost its strength, and its opposition was attempting to not get hit.

They were in a forest, reference points were everywhere. Things did not like getting hit, but they acted in a strange way regarding it. Either they would dart too much, at a fixed pattern, or they would run in a straight line, and this deer was certainly doing the latter. Raizou knew how to adjust for that then, to look at the trees it would pass by, and adjust for a turn, its turning speed was close to its straight line speed, and thus he would have to shoot two, one to box it in, and another to hit it. His left hand held the two kunai, with his next jump he would throw it, and at his apex, he did, whipping his arm out, and then throwing the second kunai on his arms return to its initial position. The cut through the air, whistling, the deer tried to turn but had gotten hit, right between its shoulder blades, the second kunai its back legs.

There was no more choice, Raizou unloaded as it began to dart in circles, adjust for the speed and then fire, it was simple enough. He jumped above the circle it was running in, and let loose, kunai one, and then another, and then a third. Five, that was what it took before it slowed to a stop, dropping on the floor. It did not twitch as it still lived. ”Might as well end it huh?” He said before he did.


[755/862] D-rank jutsu achieved.

Raizou at the end of the day, still had a lot to work on. Now that he had dropped off the idiot of a deer at a butchers, someone was going to eat it but it was not going to be him. He had to continue his training, as well as pick up all of his kunai again. It was an issue, he had somewhat of a style now, at least he could consider himself as doing well so far. There was only so much he could fit into each day. He would also need to pick up a new mission soon too. But he went back to it, envisioning the idea of combat itself. The shadowy enemy he had fought before, his aim was a little better, and he could adjust well enough with a kunai right? Then there was little to be concerned about, he was fine...

He closed his eyes and got into a stance, it was simple shadow fighting, he was getting better at this now. But it was better to envision his opponent better, to strengthen his image in the idea of combat overall. To look at one’s opponent, meant to have a strong vision of them, to know what it is their style was. It was the basics behind combat simulations, the scenarios one ran through their head before a fight. Tactics, strategy, and even winging it, all of these counted on that simple premise.

Craftiness alone does not win a fight, it was his sensei who had instilled that into him, so he knew full well what that meant. Brute force alone could, it was an unfairness that existed in this world, where a big lout brute had the advantage from the get-go. Mind, technique, body. It was the simple trifecta, as long as you won in two out of three, the fight was most likely yours. Wariness and cautiousness carried the rest.

It was with this knowledge in mind that he build his mental image of his opponent. Just copying a previous opponent alone would not work, everyone had their own style and continuing to fight the same opponent only instilled bad habits, it would make him a specialist in beating a single person. That was useless, nowhere near needed in the career he was in and pursuing. It was as simple as that.

Big, bigger than him a foot, hands big enough to grip his head, yet agile still. Going from rigid, to deft in a second, acrobatic yet rooted. It was a style that seemed to correspond to none of the ones that Raizou himself knew. It was not common, most likely of his own creation, and more so it was this that he needed to adjust for. Unnatural movements seemed to break the illusion, to view the person he was fighting better, he needed to fill in the blanks. The kicks of the strong-fist, the flips of the totem, and the frighteningly quick self-arming of the flawless aim style.

It was a series of these, that he needed to adjust for. It was not the perfect opponent, he needed to train after all. They were rash, quick to try to seize the offensive. Back during that mission, the same one that gave him nightmares until this day, it was a simple matter in reality. To envision what he should have done, as the man raised his dagger back then before he had been pushed out of the way by his teammate. He had frozen, he did not know what to do then, but the current him could see the opening, the time in which he had raised his weapon.

He could envision what it was he could have done right there, the vision that swam in his head during that time. A kunai, not for his neck, that was a danger but towards the man’s legs. Small cuts, slices, quick and enough. A shinobi lived and died by his legs, that was the truth of it. He could have created the opening back then, but he had failed, and someone else died in his place.

Why was he looking at this like that? The sea of self-hate surged as if to break down the dams of functionality that he had to rebuild. But that was what had been needed, to view things objectively, even more so when it was personal. To make sure to not make that mistake again. To envision this one fighter, and take them down, the more simulations that he had stocked up, the more people he could deal with on the drop of a hat. A kick surging over his head, ducking, cut the leg, return, take position, throw a kunai to create space for himself, unload more.

Space, but staying on the offensive. If the opponent was forced to defend, Raizou had the advantage. Tie a tag around a kunai, throw it at the enemy within his mind, but it was dodged, it was a simple as it could have been. To take him down, required forming a bigger opening than he had. But he was making space, forcing distance, the more he had, the more time he had. To form handseals, to utilize fuinjutsu, and more importantly, to kill his opponent.

It was kill or be killed. Raizou was sick of being the weight dragging people behind, the one that led others to their deaths. He had enough of that much, so it was enough, to load it in his head, the very image of his victory. He flashed through seals, embued his kunai with a flash and threw it, that was all that was needed in this kind of fight. To make sure his opponent could not look at him either, to stack his advantages until he won, to make all of his enemies advantages stand out. That was what simulations were about, having been blinded by the first kunai, his mental enemy had no idea about the second, or third, or fourth that followed. It was a constant peppering of which Raizou felt truly proud.

It was an enemy that would fall in front of him, that ever unsurmountable behemoth that had beat him before, it was a small step, it was simply a vision. The actual man was dead, and so was Raizou’s teammate. But he was still here, and he would continue this life for as long as he could, doing as well as he could.

Instinct Training [1070/1000