How many days had passed like this? He had lost count what seemed to be so long ago. The halls of this Academy he passed through, keeping himself quiet as familiar faces offered nods of greeting he didn't quite respond to. The pathway that led to his favorite training yard, with his favorite little corner with his favorite targets set up to practice his favorite skill. Ever since he had entered Aurora Eruditio, he felt himself growing with each passing week both to his pride and worry. His teachers and elders continued their lectures; apparently he was over-focusing, and he needed to round himself out to have a more complete set of skills. Against his will, he'd signed himself up for a multitude of courses over these past months. Ninjutsu had captured his interest and held it quite well lately; the things he'd witnessed Genin doing around the village in training painted his face with a sense of awe and wonder. What if he could one day do the same? He'd been told before his accuracy was remarkable, and it wasn't news that he'd struck far more targets in ranged combat training than many of his classmates. Nevertheless, it was so hard for him to accept a genuine compliment that he felt as if he was beginning to come off as boring. He could certainly see truth in the words of his elder colleagues. Being incredible at one category wasn't always a bad thing, but when you hit a wall, you had no other options to rely on. It was a scary thought to say the least. Tatsuzo was a worrier, alright. He was always the boy who tried to have a plan for everything.
This happened to be one of those days that he showed up to the training ground more to clear his head than anything else. Withdrawing a small stack of shuriken, he'd shuffle them about carefully in his hands. Holding one up to peer through the hollowed-out center, he'd gaze through it at the bulls-eye of the target up ahead. Cocking his head back sharply to throw his hair from his eyes and clear his vision, he'd weigh out one of the tools in his hand before curling his grip timidly but firmly around the device. Tucking his arm in and snapping it forward and away from his waist, the tool would loose itself from his grip and sing greetings to the wind as it whirled forward, striking in deep at its point and burying itself into a comfortable resting spot right at the edge of the bulls-eye. Nodding in self-affirmation, this time he would grasp two of the thrown devices and give them a good toss simultaneously. Splitting away from each other ever so slightly on their flight trajectory, they would land on opposite outer edges of the same impact zone. Not quite right on the dot, but so close it was painful. ''Senzo The Second, they say.'' His fellow Koga still loved the ring to it, but he didn't appreciate the pressure of having to live up to the title.
Flipping the last of the stack to his dominant hand as he reflected on the past months of training, he decided that maybe he could cut himself at least a little bit of slack. It couldn't hurt, right? He'd finally memorized each and every hand seal, even though he wasn't the fastest at performing them. He looked clumsy compared to just about everybody else. His teachers were strict, but his parents let him know it was just to bring out his best. More often than not, he took it both personally and harshly. What if he couldn't live up to what they wanted? What if he let them all down after all? What if, after all this practice, he just didn't quite make the cut? What if? What if...
Frustrated with himself, he focused intently on the target. When he heard the crack, he opened his eyes expecting to be disappointed. But right there, at the dead center of that bulls-eye, he'd pierced straight in and freed a small but clean chunk of the wood. A smile painted his face. Maybe, just maybe, he would be just fine after all this. Maybe he should have taken his mother's advice and started making some friends? But everyone was so awfully serious. If they knew he was afraid of graduating into that big scary ninja world out there, they'd probably just make fun of him. Maybe that was why he instead decided to remain at the grounds that day. If he could channel his nerves through these peculiar little tools, he could just throw them right away and try to make sense of his situation.
This happened to be one of those days that he showed up to the training ground more to clear his head than anything else. Withdrawing a small stack of shuriken, he'd shuffle them about carefully in his hands. Holding one up to peer through the hollowed-out center, he'd gaze through it at the bulls-eye of the target up ahead. Cocking his head back sharply to throw his hair from his eyes and clear his vision, he'd weigh out one of the tools in his hand before curling his grip timidly but firmly around the device. Tucking his arm in and snapping it forward and away from his waist, the tool would loose itself from his grip and sing greetings to the wind as it whirled forward, striking in deep at its point and burying itself into a comfortable resting spot right at the edge of the bulls-eye. Nodding in self-affirmation, this time he would grasp two of the thrown devices and give them a good toss simultaneously. Splitting away from each other ever so slightly on their flight trajectory, they would land on opposite outer edges of the same impact zone. Not quite right on the dot, but so close it was painful. ''Senzo The Second, they say.'' His fellow Koga still loved the ring to it, but he didn't appreciate the pressure of having to live up to the title.
Flipping the last of the stack to his dominant hand as he reflected on the past months of training, he decided that maybe he could cut himself at least a little bit of slack. It couldn't hurt, right? He'd finally memorized each and every hand seal, even though he wasn't the fastest at performing them. He looked clumsy compared to just about everybody else. His teachers were strict, but his parents let him know it was just to bring out his best. More often than not, he took it both personally and harshly. What if he couldn't live up to what they wanted? What if he let them all down after all? What if, after all this practice, he just didn't quite make the cut? What if? What if...
SLING!
CRACK!
<i></i>Frustrated with himself, he focused intently on the target. When he heard the crack, he opened his eyes expecting to be disappointed. But right there, at the dead center of that bulls-eye, he'd pierced straight in and freed a small but clean chunk of the wood. A smile painted his face. Maybe, just maybe, he would be just fine after all this. Maybe he should have taken his mother's advice and started making some friends? But everyone was so awfully serious. If they knew he was afraid of graduating into that big scary ninja world out there, they'd probably just make fun of him. Maybe that was why he instead decided to remain at the grounds that day. If he could channel his nerves through these peculiar little tools, he could just throw them right away and try to make sense of his situation.