It was difficult, being a ninja and having to accept you weren't exactly cut out for frontline combat.
Makoto knew that by a lot of people's standards, he had probably acquitted himself quite well in the battle out in the sands, against the storm's controller. That didn't really matter though; his own standards were what mattered and he hadn't met them.
The most intense, serious fight I've ever been in, and I...well. I barely managed to hold on. He grimaced to himself as he walked the slowly-rebuilding streets of Sand. And what the hell was that I slipped into near the end, there?
In the immediate aftermath he had been too exhausted to question what had been an...unusual mental shift for him. There had been a certainly clarity of purpose, so that the pain of afterwards taking several heavy hits had barely fazed him. It was as if he'd temporarily discarded emotion for pure thought and reaction. In doing so, he'd done a number of useful things, including coordinating with a teammate for an attack, but...
Well. It was an efficient state of mind, so he oughtn't to be bothered. But it had also felt not-entirely-right. He couldn't summon it back at will, certainly. Had it been a survival mode? Somehow, that didn't sound right.
Makoto stopped, gaze focused unseeingly on the road ahead. He was off to the side, so people could easily go around him and he didn't present an obstacle.
If he was being entirely honest with himself--and there was no reason not to be--it was a frightening thought. As if something that weren't entirely of his own will had been temporarily controlling him. Not an effect of the storm, either; it came from within.
The same thing that doesn't let me use elemental chakra? That didn't feel right. What, then?
He didn't have a clue.
All he could really do was resolve to not let it happen again. Which meant he had to be more efficient on his own initiative; be more effective at the things he was good at to an even sharper degree. Had to be able to hit hard and fast. If he was to be a glass cannon, let him be a good one.
Being out on my own in a foreign country certainly does lead to unpleasant thoughts, he mused as he resumed walking. I ought to be getting home soon anyway; I've certainly met the mission requirements.
Besides, maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe that really had been just a survival instinct. Maybe the lack of humidity and the stress were getting to him.
...Maybe Moon was a better place to be if it turned out to be some kind of odd spiritual thing, anyway.
Faint flickers of blue-green chakra danced across his hands at his sides, unnoticed, as he walked on.
[S-Rank; 30 Min Enter/Exit]
Makoto knew that by a lot of people's standards, he had probably acquitted himself quite well in the battle out in the sands, against the storm's controller. That didn't really matter though; his own standards were what mattered and he hadn't met them.
The most intense, serious fight I've ever been in, and I...well. I barely managed to hold on. He grimaced to himself as he walked the slowly-rebuilding streets of Sand. And what the hell was that I slipped into near the end, there?
In the immediate aftermath he had been too exhausted to question what had been an...unusual mental shift for him. There had been a certainly clarity of purpose, so that the pain of afterwards taking several heavy hits had barely fazed him. It was as if he'd temporarily discarded emotion for pure thought and reaction. In doing so, he'd done a number of useful things, including coordinating with a teammate for an attack, but...
Well. It was an efficient state of mind, so he oughtn't to be bothered. But it had also felt not-entirely-right. He couldn't summon it back at will, certainly. Had it been a survival mode? Somehow, that didn't sound right.
Makoto stopped, gaze focused unseeingly on the road ahead. He was off to the side, so people could easily go around him and he didn't present an obstacle.
If he was being entirely honest with himself--and there was no reason not to be--it was a frightening thought. As if something that weren't entirely of his own will had been temporarily controlling him. Not an effect of the storm, either; it came from within.
The same thing that doesn't let me use elemental chakra? That didn't feel right. What, then?
He didn't have a clue.
All he could really do was resolve to not let it happen again. Which meant he had to be more efficient on his own initiative; be more effective at the things he was good at to an even sharper degree. Had to be able to hit hard and fast. If he was to be a glass cannon, let him be a good one.
Being out on my own in a foreign country certainly does lead to unpleasant thoughts, he mused as he resumed walking. I ought to be getting home soon anyway; I've certainly met the mission requirements.
Besides, maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe that really had been just a survival instinct. Maybe the lack of humidity and the stress were getting to him.
...Maybe Moon was a better place to be if it turned out to be some kind of odd spiritual thing, anyway.
Faint flickers of blue-green chakra danced across his hands at his sides, unnoticed, as he walked on.
[S-Rank; 30 Min Enter/Exit]