Take A Shot [Private]

[Shinomiya Masaru]

Standing in front of the wooden practice dummy, Masaru tried to calm his breathing. He was inspecting the marks and positions of the lodged shuriken, often times frowning slightly. Training every morning was now so common for him that it was as common as getting dressed or eating breakfast. The young boy had decided that ever since she had left he would try harder, after all there was no other way to meet her expectations when she came back if he just slacked off all the time.

It was still tough work though, and the boy was feeling it every morning when he got out of bed. His joints ached and his muscles screamed at him, but his determination didn't waver. Even now he was fighting the urge to grimace each time he put weight on his left foot, simply keeping his stoic expression and carrying on as if he hadn't slipped and twisted his ankle doing a move earlier.

It was just another average morning in Kumogakure for him. The morning fog had vanished long ago, and the sun was shining down on him mercilessly. Occasionally clouds would provide a brief moment of relief, but due to his attire and intensity of how he trained the heat was still getting to him. Masaru took a moment to wipe the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, and wondered if he should discard it for the rest of his session.

No, it was just another thing to train for. Once he was a proper shinobi he would be sent on missions frequently, sometimes to places that weren't as hospitable, so something like this could be overcome as well. Masaru gave a small nod to confirm his decision, and took the shuriken out from the dummy before stepping back to practice again.

The dull thuds echoed through the training area as they collided with their target. Masaru was focusing fairly well now despite the pressure he put on himself, and it was only a matter of time until someone would notice him. Though, it was becoming obvious that his habit of focusing would be a problem, after all even if someone noticed him training it would take him entirely too long to notice anyone else.

[Topic Entered]

 

[Sanageyama Masaoko]

~ Nara Kotaza ~

“You will do no such thing!” Although she did not strike him, he certainly flinched as if she had. Despite his moment of cowering, he returned back to his same dangerous and defiant glare. The glint in his eye set his mother to take a step back from the boy. She hated his dark eyes. She saw nothing but emptiness and her brother. She nervously brushed her chestnut hair behind her ear, a moment of doubt passing through her emerald eyes.

~ Nara Yoku ~

“You won't stop me. I see the fear in your eyes. You fear me, but more than that you are afraid of losing control. All my life you've lied to me and sought to drag me down with the fucking insane choices you made!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, no longer caring who would hear. With reckless abandon he let his anger flow, knocking aside the chairs that stood between them. “They all left you because they see just how fucked up you really are. They left you and then they all tried to destroy you. Souseiki, Obito...But you know what? In the end, they left you to your pathetic existence. You weren't worth either of their time, because you've already destroyed your life far better than they ever could.” He smiled almost serenely as he watched his mother's eyes widen with horror. “I will join the ANBU corps and you won't stop me. Because if you do, I guarantee that I will come back to finish the job they started. I'll make sure you burn and you suffer and there will be no hope for redemption or renewal. There will be nothing left for you to hold on and you'll be where you always deserved to be.” He shook with adrenaline, chest rattling as he tried to catch his breath after his long winded shout down. Kotaza had grown ten times smaller with every word. She sunk into her chair behind the desk that bared her name holder on it and countless files with a number of new students they were to intake in the upcoming months.

"Yoku-" Tears glistened in her sparkling eyes, but the young boy shared no pity for her like many had before. He would not fall for her way, this wicked succubus of the Susukino underbelly who somehow had risen and disguised herself as an angel. Yoku was not surprised to hear others call him a monster. He was born to a seductive demoness, so he would carry on her dark nature in his blood. But how did his pure sister, like silent falling snow, come to be her offspring?

"Don't get in my way." Was all he said before storming off through the door. It rattled and crashed with a heart skipping thud, leaving Kotaza to the office alone. She sunk into her hands sobbing.

~~~~​

The darkly haired Nara heard the silence breaking thud of steel against a hollow surface, approaching the quieted area of the training grounds. He still felt hot from their encounter. His usual menacing scowl was much darker and fiercer. He slinked behind a large oak tree, scratched to hell by some weapon of sorts or maybe it was claws, as most of these trees were around the training grounds. Yoku spied on a single boy clad in a black cloak even in this abnormally hot day.

How stupid, Yoku thought watching him more intensely as he attempted to practice his aim. The glint of gold in the sun caught his eyes, drawing his attention to the cross that hung around his neck. A Tenouzan? Don't see many of those outside of Raiden no Mei. The young mutt shinobi understood little about a Tenouzan shinobi, weren't they against the very teachings of their saint? Unless they let that bullshit excuse of being their god's ordained warriors slide. Yoku hardly cared to ponder over theological studies for the moment.

The uncaring youth, who barely gave anyone a single glance, was drawn to watch this boy. He rested his hand on the trunk of the tree, leaning against it as his head poked out to study him. The cold, dead glare in the stranger's eyes absorbed Yoku. He saw that look every day, from his family, from his peers, and from himself. But, there was something entirely different about the kid's that kept him gazing. He couldn't quite grasp this feeling.

The boy stood loosely to the ground, a mistake Yoku thought was not intentional. Further studying the placement of his feet, the Anbu in training caught it. He winced only slightly, his face never truly betraying his will to endure. It was only a slight twitch at the mouth, but Yoku caught it quick enough. He reached into his back pocket, unsheathing a kunai. With a flick of his wrist, he send the blade veering into the direction of the boy's shuriken. Striking it down from the air, Yoku stepped out from behind the tree.

"You'll never hit it straight if you keep standing on your feet like that..."

Why am I doing this? No one is worth the effort. You had to learn that by yourself, and now you want to help some one else. He's pathetic. His life will vanish before he ever reaches adulthood. Its one less soul to taint this disgusting world. No one is worth saving, Yoku. So, why don't we have a little fun with him? His sickening smirk spilled forth like blood from a cut throat. Although he was shorter than the boy, Yoku stood with disciplined posture that easily meant to intimidate. However, as Masaru's gaze finally decided to wander his way, Yoku stopped.

He felt his heart skip nervously, as his smile vanished. For a brief moment his eyes widened, in awe or terror it was not sure, but he recovered quickly to match his stoic stare. What was wrong with this kid? He generally did not care. Those were not eyes of disgust, but of complete emptiness. A vast void of darkness. The very darkness that choked and pushed Yoku down. The darkness that had become so welcoming in his childhood.

 

[Shinomiya Masaru]

The glint of metal catching the light was all he saw in his peripheral before the clang of colliding metal rang loud through the clearing. Masaru straightened, eyes studying the kunai that had hit his shuriken. It was a precise throw, an experienced one. He hadn't gotten the chance to see Haruka actually throw a kunai, though he was well acquainted with the weapon from previous training.

Slowly he glanced in the direction it had come, finally setting his sights on another kid. His words weren't harsh, as if he was trying to intentionally be mean, nor did it seem like he was trying to show off. Masaru knew something was off with his throws, although he wouldn't have guessed his footing would be that poor. The criticism was helpful, though he found it a bit unnecessary. He would have figured it out eventually no doubt, but he wouldn't stray from helpful advice.

Masaru continued to stare at the boy, who now seemed dumbfounded after his entrance, and took the time to test his ankle again. It still stung, but he ignored it in favor for better practice. He put full weight on it, clenching his teeth at the shock of pain.

After getting used to the feeling he turned away from the other boy to pick up his weapons. This time he would practice seriously. If he were injured on a mission he wouldn't be given such a luxury as being coddled, the enemy would certainly not allow that, and so he would have to learn how to press on against pain. Or rather, he thought more along the lines of embracing it. It certainly made him feel more alive, especially when Haruka wasn't there to justify his existence. Although he didn't enjoy the sharp sting each time his foot hit the ground, Masaru didn't think it an unpleasant pain.

While he reached down to pick up the shuriken that had missed, Masaru completely ignored the boy. Initially he wondered why anyone would bother trying to help him, but decided that putting the advice into practice first would be better. If it helped then he would thank the kid, but if it didn't then he could easily try to think of a different way to help his training out.

Walking back to where he was previously standing, Masaru hardly looked at Yoku. He could feel his presence, and while it could be beneficial to ask someone who had more experience to help him train, Masaru decided that working out his own problems would be best. Out in the field he would only have himself to rely on, especially if his teammates were to get taken down. Knowing how to make decisions and use his head was for the best. So, for now, he concentrated wholeheartedly on his training.

[MFT]

 

[Sanageyama Masaoko]

~ Nara Yoku ~

Ignored. That's no surprise, but this kid was a stubborn ass for sure. He completely ignored Yoku's existence, that he could deal with. It was something that occurred in his day to day life. He found it much easier to get by if they didn't care when it came down to it. However, there was something about the way he ignored Yoku that it drew the young Anbu in training closer to him. He just wanted this cross wielding idiot to look at him, but instead he set his dead eyes back to the training target. He leaned on his injured leg, as if to insult Yoku or to impress him. He highly doubt this boy was the kind of boy that wanted to impress anyone of little consequence. He also seemed like someone who wouldn't waste his breath on a boy like Yoku. And that was just how it went.

Still, Yoku was a bit offended by his uncouth behavior and he felt the need to just torture this already wounded boy just a little more. The boy rushed up in almost effortless grace to Masaru's side. He lightly kicked the boy's ankle causing him to crumbled. The dark haired boy folded his arms and smirked. "Ignoring someone isn't how you thank them. Even I know that..." He condescendingly smirked down at his peer, or should he say inferior? "Practicing with an injury isn't gonna help you. Any fool knows that. You want to make it worse?" He further antagonized the poor boy.

 

[Shinomiya Masaru]

Just as Masaru was about to make another throw the boy was suddenly beside him. All he could do was glance in his direction before the kid kicked out at his ankle causing him to lose balance and fall to his knees. The twinge of pain flared up more than before, and Masaru clenched his teeth as the feeling ran up his leg.

With his free hand he gripped the injured ankle with extreme force, as if squeezing it would help him ease the pain or at least get used to it. He could feel his ears burning in embarrassment for having been caught off guard, but he refused to show anything else to the boy. While still on the ground he listened to the brat mouth off to him. To lecture him of all people on manners was an incredible feat, and although Masaru knew he should have at least acknowledged him better the split second irritation from being blindsided was enough to forget his wrongdoing.

He switched his gaze from his ankle to the boy now, giving him what to others would have seemed his usual emotionless glance, however up close one could tell that he was fixing the kid with a cold glare. That smart tone was something Masaru had just about had enough of, and for the moment he hardly cared if he was the one being looked down on. Slowly he loosened his grip on his ankle, and stood to full height to make better eye contact with the boy. “Usually strangers don't just give advice out of the blue like that, so I was just testing it out to see if it was useful. Then I was going to thank you,” Masaru let the words come out with an even tone, not raising his voice at all but there was still some tension to his words. “So are you saying that if I were injured in the field the enemy would just give me time to heal? That he would wait for me because he'd be worried my injury would get worse? Practicing through pain like this would help me more than avoiding it, besides it's not as serious as if I had been stabbed,” Masaru focused on the kid's expression. It was rather similar to his, but not in a way that piqued his interest, just mild curiosity.

“Since you have such esteemed manners should I just wait for you to introduce yourself or should I go ahead and give my name since I seem to have insulted you so?” Masaru smiled. Although it was just a normal smile and not as if he'd just taken a verbal jab at the boy, he decided to gauge his reactions. Bending at the waist Masaru bowed, making sure it wasn't too deep so he could keep his eye on the kid, “Thank you for your wonderful advice, without it I would have just continued without thinking.” He straightened, his usual expression replacing the easy-going one, and raised his hand as if prompting him to keep up.