After-school special. [TUTOR] [PVT] [Izura]

[Hiyasu Shiori]

Shiori stared intently at the board, the plethora of extracurricular activities making his vision swim. There was so much on offer for the academy students now! Advanced survival; introduction to camouflage; Introduction to Taijutsu; Even elemental basket-weaving (Whatever that was). Shiori had been used to classes and then the occasional tutorial from one of the teachers at the academy when he was a student.

It was why he was back here. Missions had dried up for a bit, and Suo’s wasn’t getting as much foot traffic. The grill had to be hidden for a while as well, it seemed that some angry restaurateurs had formed a ‘Red Oak Watch’, keeping an eye for some upstarts stealing their custom and bad mouthing their businesses. The boys had been forced to run many times from groups of angry chefs carrying the understandable very dangerous weapons a kitchen could provide. There wasn’t much for him to do, so here he was.

His shinobi path had begun to falter. He was doing missions, yes, but none of it felt like the right step. He wasn’t getting stronger. He wasn’t building his name, no longer taking actions that someone in the future would look upon and state “There is when he took the first step towards becoming the great ninja he is today.”

Even though the academy had not had as many...activities on offer as it had in the past, Shiori had at least felt like a ninja here. Classes on jutsu basics, hand-to-hand fighting, and other, more normal subjects to ensure he was a well-rounded individual. He had been focussing on honing his skills, developing, becoming stronger. By being strong, he would be the best ninja, and the best ninja were remembered forever. Immortal.

He turned from the board, seeing nothing. He would have to find some other way to improve himself. His steps took him from the academy, back out into the noon daylight, causing him to squint.

WC: 328

 

[Uchiha Izura]

Re: After-school special. [TUTOR]

Power always came with a price. Even for those spared from the ravages of war through either sheer luck or by choice. Time was the universal currency that afforded that power, or took that power away. But in the end, still a price to be paid. And although Shiori came here with the intention of spending purely his time to learn and get more powerful, he would have his will tested today.

A silhouette contrasted itself against the light in front of Shiori, the pale red, mirror like eyes of Izura observing the youth’s every detail, down to the demeanor, clothing, body language….scrutinizing every minuscule movement down in an attempt to glimpse into the boy’s reality. And from a simple glance like that, he guessed that the boy had lived through quite some harsh times. Dirty, tattered war gear of fine make, in ill repair not out of a lack of care or time, but out of a lack of resources to return to their former glory. A downcast, sullen look. The desire for power. Of course, these could’ve all been deceptions, but a gut feeling told Izura that these feelings were real, and not some illusion to cast the guise of being in the throes of poverty.

Izura wore a mask today, covering his face entirely from view. Although it was a stone Anbu’s mask, with the similarity that anbu masks held between villages, it wasn’t entirely out of the question for Izura to have been a Konoha anbu ninja. He had originally visited the academy for nostalgia’s sake, and to see the future generations of ninja and their capabilities, but again, something tugged at his heart strings. He had seen too many refugees and war orphans to count, despite the distant memory that was Leaf’s Civil war. The war had affected too many in this new generation. And so whatever Shiori’s past was, it was irrelevant. Izura felt almost compelled to take action.

“You’re here to train, aren’t you?” The masked stranger said. A voice modulator masked his voice, making him seem all the more mysterious.

WC 349

 

[Hiyasu Shiori]

“You’re here to train, aren’t you?”

Shiori looked up at the voice, a hand raised to shade his eyes from the corona of light escaping around the figure, rendering him nothing more than a shadow. As his eyes adjusted, he began to be able to pick out features. Well, there would have been features, if the face wasn’t obscured by a mask. ANBU.

Shiori didn’t pick out the differences between stone ANBU and his own, so had no idea he wasn’t interacting with a countryman. He had seen a few of the secretive ninja here and there, often also having to hear about them from Megumareta, as it was his dream to join this secretive society of hunters and hiders. That wasn’t for Shiori. He wanted his name to be known, his deeds remembered. To live on in people’s minds. there was immortality.

His mind had begun to wander again. He couldn’t pick up anything from the man in front of him. Was it even a man? The voice was modulated by the mask to render it unrecognizable by accent or intonation. He gambled on male by other factors. Stance, setting of shoulders, general proportions from the innate physical differences that existed.

“I was hoping to do so, but everything seems so… nebulous in topic. Besides, Genin shouldn’t be skulking about the academy for training. They should be out working hard as fully-fledged ninja.”

He still couldn’t read the man in front of him. He was trying as hard as he could to get anything from him, but there was nothing. No telltales, no tics. Nothing gave away anything. It was incredible. This was obviously a very accomplished ninja. Maybe he had something to pass on to the next generation. It would be best to make a good impression, then. The road to the top was built on the steps of others, after all.

“My name is Hiyasu Shiori. What is yours?”

Shiori extended a hand, ready to give a firm handshake, if reciprocated.

WC: 336 [664]

 

[Uchiha Izura]

"ANBU are not allowed to disclose that information."

Chakra meant influence. Influence was just another type of power. Power that transcended the capability of a single person to act within their own bodily limits. It was power that transcended the body.

He extended out a black, gloved hand, shaking his. But something seemed off. It was if there was more importance to that hand shake than met the eye. And in the next moments, whether or not he realized it was another matter entirely.

“But I will still teach you. as a fellow Konoha ninja. I can tell already- you are looking for a teacher, are you not?”

The enigmatic figure shattered into a million pieces of glass as the world turned monochrome, and the world suddenly stood still, save for Shiori himself. A voice echoed around him, the voice modulator making it all the more disorienting and intimidating to the young genin.

“I will teach you to overcome your fears, and through that struggle, you will emerge stronger than before.”

As he said this, shadows danced across the ground, transforming the landscape around him into that of his greatest fears. The nightmares of his inner psyche, drawn out and turned into a landscape of horror and malevolence. His greatest fear began to manifest in front of his very eyes. Everything- the landscape. The creatures and people. The events of failure in his life. It all coalesced into this moment. And suddenly too. There was no time to adjust. No time to process. Little precious time to react. Just like the real world. As the shadow of his greatest fear began to pool and take form, it began it’s first steps towards him with a malefic intent.

If he did not overcome this, then he could not call himself a ninja. Getting a head band was one thing, but a physical item awarded for something as menial as the academy didn’t mean he was truly a ninja. It merely meant he adopted a shadow of their true form.

WC 340

 

[Hiyasu Shiori]

"ANBU are not allowed to disclose that information."

Shiori cursed inwardly. Of course not. ANBU had no names. Only code names. He had forgotten a basic precept of their order. He would have to remember that later, mind occupied with his mistake as he shook the hand. It was firm grip, but heavy with some implicit meaning.

“But I will still teach you. as a fellow Konoha ninja. I can tell already- you are looking for a teacher, are you not?”

As Shiori raised his head to answer, the figure fragmented and fell away. The world shifted. Did this ninja have the same reality-bending powers as Shiori? If so, he had never seen them used in such a way. His ring was hot on his finger.

“I will teach you to overcome your fears, and through that struggle, you will emerge stronger than before.”

The voice came from all around. Instinctively, Shiori’s head spun about looking for the source, but there was none in the now dark and muted landscape. He was totally alone here.

As if reacting to that thought, Shiori felt something. Slowly, he turned back around, seeing a shadow coalesce into something more recognizable. As details became apparent, his eyes widened, and he took an involuntary step backward. There stood his brother, Ichirou, just as he remembered him, dressed all in white. The elder brother, now of an age with Shiori, smiled at him.

“Hello brother. Remember me?”

Shiori set his face into a grim line. This was something more than Shiori’s Seikon ability. SOmething that twisted more than the fabric of reality. It had taken his fear and made it real in the form of his dead brother. The apparition smiled wider.

“Of course you do. But you’re the only one that does. That’s how all of us end up when we die. Our deeds; our stories; our memories, all become dust. It will happen to you too. You will die, and be forgotten.”

Without thinking, Shiori’s unnatural blade of energy crackled forth, spurting from his hand as his eyes fixed on this creature that took on the form of his brother.

“I will not end up forgotten. I will live forever as the greatest of all time, beyond Senin, beyond Kages. My name will be remembered forever, and thus, I will be immortal. I will not end up like you.”


WC: 399 [1063]

 

[Uchiha Izura]

Izura frowned. The child wanted to be remembered. As if that mattered. As if his worth was intrinsically tied to the legend of his deeds. And with that intention to be immortalized in history came a great deal of vanity and pride. Recognition was not something to be sought in Izura’s eyes. It was something that came as a byproduct of circumstance and coincidence. Not something to be pursued and chased as if some sort of dream..for the ninja who received recognition, also received attention, and therefore lost one element every ninja would be remiss to forget- the ability to fade into obscurity.

In attempting to eradicate Shiori’s fear, Izura had found something else entirely. A child who chased recognition as his lifelong dream.

The apparition of his brother moved blindingly fast for the young academy student to react, running him through with a blade. The pain felt real- almost too real, but in the next instance, the illusion shattered. Shiori was brought violently back into the real world. The veteran shinobi crossed his arms, the disappointment hidden behind the ominous mask he wore.

“The ultimate test of selflessness—whether you're ready to face unending emotional pain, true agony, to gain the power to create peace and order for billions of total strangers. That is the sacrifice. To be potentially vilified by others, by people you know and care for, and for your personal sacrifice to be totally unknown to those millions you save, to do your duty as a shinobi. To do your duty for the good of the world. It's easy to be a clean-cut hero slaying monsters. There's always a little bit of vanity in being a hero. But there can be no room for vanity or pride in being despised.”

Izura body flickered next to a nearby tree.

“A real ninja must be ready to erase their own existence in the name of the greater good. Secrecy is our weapon. Are you capable of sacrificing fame? Of recognition for deeds?”

WC 336

 

[Hiyasu Shiori]

Ichirou rushed for Shiori, running him through before he could react. A double shock: His own brother attacking him; and moving faster than Shiori. He was used to being able to move before anyone else. It added another pain, more acute than the blade in his abdomen.

Suddenly, his brother shattered and disappeared. The real world was revealed again, with the ANBU stood in front of him, arms crossed. Though he couldn’t see his face, Shiori could read the disappointment in his body language.

“The ultimate test of selflessness—whether you're ready to face unending emotional pain, true agony, to gain the power to create peace and order for billions of total strangers. That is the sacrifice. To be potentially vilified by others, by people you know and care for, and for your personal sacrifice to be totally unknown to those millions you save, to do your duty as a shinobi. To do your duty for the good of the world. It's easy to be a clean-cut hero slaying monsters. There's always a little bit of vanity in being a hero. But there can be no room for vanity or pride in being despised.”

Despised? Why would a ninja be despised? Especially by those they knew. The village was a pretty close knit thing, few would actively hate each other. And ninja worked towards a greater good, the only ones with the ability to do so, due to their superior strength. Their supernatural abilities. And the reward for being stronger was to be recognised as such. To be remembered. If you lived in the minds of others, you would never die.

“A real ninja must be ready to erase their own existence in the name of the greater good. Secrecy is our weapon. Are you capable of sacrificing fame? Of recognition for deeds?”

Shiori shook his head. The ANBU flickered to a tree. Shiori stepped, ending up beside him, using his own Seikon abilities.

“Erasure of existence may work for you ANBU, who scrape and plot in the shadows. However, we live in a village made up of not only shinobi, but civilians. We know them, interact with them. We wear headbands to identify ourselves. We even carve our faces in stone.” Shiori thrust a hand to hokage rock, towering over everything.

“I will be the strongest. And I will show the world I’m the strongest. You can keep to your shadow games, I will be immortal.”

Shiori fingered the ring on his finger as he made his proclamation to the ANBU.

WC: 421 [1484]

 

[Hiyasu Shiori]

The ANBU seemed stunned to silence by the young shinobi's confidence. He didn't react at all. Shiori grunted.

"That's what I thought."

He stepped back off the branch, reappearing a ways off, still walking backwards, looking at the shadowed ninja before turning about. Damned ANBU. Always too stuck to the shadows. They may be strong, but they never showed it. What was the point of strength if others didn't know your ability? ridiculous philosophy.

The genjutsu lesson had been useful, however. He needed to work on defending against such abilities. Maybe something to bring up with his friends.


WC 98 [1582]
Limit reached
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