Ninpocho Chronicles

Ninpocho Chronicles is a fantasy-ish setting storyline, set in an alternate universe World of Ninjas, where the Naruto and Boruto series take place. This means that none of the canon characters exists, or existed here.

Each ninja starts from the bottom and start their training as an Academy Student. From there they develop abilities akin to that of demigods as they grow in age and experience.

Along the way they gain new friends (or enemies), take on jobs and complete contracts and missions for their respective villages where their training and skill will be tested to their limits.

The sky is the limit as the blank page you see before you can be filled with countless of adventures with your character in the game.

This is Ninpocho Chronicles.

Current Ninpocho Chronicles Time:

To Kill [Class: ANBU/Mednin/Students]

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Takaki Saeko

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This is a class open to the general public, and targeted especially at academy students, ANBU in Training, and Mednin in Training. Students will receive class credit, stats, and yen. AiT and MiT will receive promotion credit. Anyone else will have an interesting experience. Much of the material in this class is based on material written by LTC (ret) Dave Grossman, particularly from his book: On Killing: The psychological cost of learning to kill in war and society, which is a fabulous resource to read independently and will help the lay reader as well as the clinical professional understand a lot about PTSD and other forms of conflict-associated trauma.

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The Academy’s training program itself had very few formal lectures – most of the curriculum was spent on either physical training in the art and science of combat or in the LCL tanks where the all-important chakra circuits were developed and refined to turn humans with a hint of chakra generation potential into actual beginning shinobi. However, there were a few subjects that could not be taught through either means, and this was one of them.

Every year, Nara Bii-Ryu was asked to give this particular lecture, despite the fact that he was not even a mental health specialist and had long ago ceased active fieldwork. But he was also one of the most experienced and wisest shinobi still functioning in the village, and the most important thing of all was that he had lived through bloody battle and treated a multitude of others who had done so as well. And like any physician worth a damn, he realized that without addressing wounds of the mind, those of the body would never actually heal.

The newest crop of academy students ready for graduation, as well as entry-level ANBU and mednins were the target audience for this class, and for good reason. Because this class was about the act of killing – something that shinobi were trained to do without hesitation, but were never truly prepared for in the end.

He waited for the students, sipping his coffee. His thoughts drifted, uncomfortably, to a hot summer’s night on the border of Fire Country thirty-five years ago. An irony, he thought – he was to teach these youngsters how to deal with the ramifications of death and killing, but he still never quite overcame his own experiences that night…
 

Tanaka Ai

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Ai sighed as he trudged through the soft, powdery snow on his way up the mountain trail to the academy. It was his first true class in the academy, and the social cripple couldn’t think of anything more unsettling to him. ‘Enclosed room, full of strangers… Best make sure to check my exits.’ The student reminded himself needlessly, his anxiety flaring as the large academy building manifested itself in front of him. Pulling his thick brown cloak tighter around his wiry frame, Ai couldn’t help but wonder what this was going to be like. He’d overheard his brothers talking about their classes in years past, but those stories were always filled with what Ai assumed to be about 15% fact, so he rarely paid much attention to his brother’s tales as he got older. Besides, all of their stories involved learning new jutsu, or completing some challenge. Attending a lecture was, as far as Ai knew, unheard of in his family. But then again, his family wasn’t exactly known for its analytical minds, but rather for brute force and snide remarks. As he approached the entrance to the academy, Ai could only hope that nobody attending this seminar would know his family, or that no one would realize he was a part of it.
‘Alright Ai, you’re getting pretty damn good at hiding. Now time to try to hide without hiding.’
Reaching the door of his the classroom, Ai took a deep breath stepped in cautiously, taking note of the fact that he was apparently the first to arrive, aside from the rather thoughtful looking man sipping a beverage who the student could only assume to be the teacher. Avoiding eye contact with the man, Ai quietly walked down a few rows then slide into a seat near the middle of the lecture hall.
‘Remember, just act natural.’
 

Uka

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All fun and no work never really worked out not at all. As comfortable as Takehiko was with his position right now the pay wasn't really that great and nor were the jobs really. Hunting down cats, delivering packaged, beating down the occasional drunk punk or just plain cleaning something up weren't exactly things to write home about. Not at all really, heck they were quite the sad fate for the nineteen-year-old anbu, well in training but one nevertheless. And the only way to really fix that right now was attend these classes. Sure it wasn't that bad but it was boring to say the least. Normally people taking these classes were a lot younger than he was, but considering he had started quite a lot later than others normally do it really wasn't a great surprise.

A sigh escaped his lips as he stopped for a second, taking a deep breath soon after. He pulled his green coat slightly tighter, sliding his hands into his pockets. There was nothing really interesting in his clothing, but then again it wasn't exactly what it should be for a shinobi with his white shirt and blue jeans. It was quite odd to see someone in his line of work dressed like this, but then again he was quite rarely noticed in the first place. No matter that is pretty pointless talks in all honesty.

The man took another step and quickly continued his journey through the halls of the building and finally up the stairs towards his destination. And here it was the lecture room - the only one as a matter of fact. It was interesting, but then again not really, taking into consideration what was taught here. No matter no matter at all.

"Good Day." Takehiko said to the supposed teacher with a stupid smile on his face. Why supposed? Well it didn't quite seem like he was quite there with his head in the clouds like that. Though it didn't really matter it was time to retreat to the back of the room, where he took a seat, sinking into it.

[MFT]
[Note If I don't post within two days please poke me because I have forgotten. Thanks !]
 

Ryu Hime

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Shimete decides to join the class on killing even though she doubts she needed it. Like she told Junko in the genin exam; she exists to serve; she was born to serve. She is a tool or weapon ready to be used. A tool has no motives of its own but serves its wielder unquestionably. If she is commanded to take a life she will do so without question. It is not that she is a wicked person with no emotion or appreciation for life; for she is quite the opposite. It’s just that she has been taught since birth to obey her superiors. It has been ingrained into her mind to serve without question. To serve one’s master and one’s country is higher than one’s own ambitions. As she enters the classroom, the little maid girl politely bows to the teacher and takes a seat. Behind her was a wolf that followed and sat next to her. Kirito, the wolf, was curious what this man would teach.
 
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Jo entered the classroom and took his usual seat in the back left corner of the room, sighing heavily as he sat. He looked positively normal in his black leather steel-toed boots, denim blue jeans, black t-shirt and tan suede jacket. Setting his black shoulder bag on the ground, he busied himself for a moment digging out a pen and composition book for taking notes. He titled the top of page one “The Psychology of the Kill,” before sitting back and crossing his arms. Waiting patiently for the class to start, Jo contemplated the subject at hand. Until now, all the ninjutsu and taijutsu he had been training to use had been targeted at dummies; dummies that barely shared the vague outline of a human body. How would he react when his opponent was flesh and blood instead of wood and straw? What would he feel when he ended someone elses life? Thinking about it in a purely mechanical way, snuffing out a life was extraordinarily simple. However, once the blood starts pumping and the mind starts racing… who knows? The professor was there to explain it, and Jo was there to learn.
 

Homura Akuma

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The chill of the thin mountain air had failed to penetrate the tough hide of the standing Kyoujouran. Saizo's chilled demeanor occupied his face making him seem a tad aloof. His exact location was before a place he had graduated from years ago, only to have to return due to obligations he had no control over. The Aurora Eruditio. Still after a couple of years clouds trademark symbol remained pridefully intact and was on showcase above the dual door entry point. Somehow the whole current situation instilled a long forgotten childlike excitement throughout the Burakkupawa's cerebellum. He kind of was looking forqard to what was about to come into existence.

'I gotta do, what I gotta do'

His feet rapidly drummed up the stairs entrance prior to being swallowed by double lacquered oak doors. The boring whites walls instantly brought back fond memories that were far from being old and forgotten. Along with his presence trekking through the academy hallways came a humbling experience to say the least since he thought academy classes and lectures of this nature were behind him or below his current job grade. Granted he wasn’t a full fledged ANBU, but he thought. Well he thought like any AiT would think. That his life was going to consist of hardcore field exercises and elite advanced training courses that only were reserved for ANBU in training.

Here he was here for a lecture, but it wasn't as ordinary as the word lecture. He knew it wasn’t going to be boring either. It was on the interesting subject to kill, a topic that a shinobi have come to be on par with the shinigami itself. This class would be a good follow up to his recent psych eval with Dr. Kushin, after he learned a lot about himself and the subject of killing.

'Here we go,
now what otha foos is up in here?'

His arrival was no surprise as he opened the door, what was a surprise maybe more or less was the mocha skin male that walked through with box frame glasses. He instantly gave respect to his the teacher on hand, bowing to the appropriate level.

"Senpai."

He then turned to confront the faces, that either were staring back at him or staring at blank desks. It was sort of awkward but he didn't mind awkward. Moments later he took his seat adjacent to some kid in a few rows down and in the middle. This was yet another step for Saizo toward his goal.

[MFT]
 

Tsuyoshi Junko

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Looking at the doors of the academy didn't bring not even a thought of a smile for Junko. This was the one place he never thought he would return to after his genin exam. "Looks like I was wrong last time, I ended up coming back to this dreadful place." Junko opened the doors and traveled to the class that had a topic that was a major surprise, killing.

Junko arrived at the class, viewing many faces that he found familiar, and some he never seen before. Junko entered the class with a seemingly slight uninterested attitude and a bow towards the instructor of the class. Junko made his way through the classroom noticing a seat near Shimete and her dog companion. I think that will be my seat, maybe I can get to know Shimete a little better." Junko took the seat and smiled at her in remembrance of the exam. Junko whisper softly a brief saying that only they would understand, making it a inside joke. "Hi, Baby-cakes." hopefully this would get a smile or a laugh out of Shimete.



[Topic Entered]
 

Takaki Saeko

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As students started to pile into the classroom, Bii-Ryu raised an eyebrow at the numbers. Yes, this was a required class for all three branches (especially the Main Branch if the students ever wished to graduate), but most students prided themselves on avoiding lecture like the plague, and thus attendance was usually low. Still, there was a morbid curiosity attached to the subject of discussion for today’s class, even if the learners were not directly involved in the profession of dealing death. He set his coffee down and stood in front of the class.
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“Alright, I think we have enough to start. First of all, thank you for coming to this class – or rather, I find that in the future, you will be thanking yourselves when the time comes,” he said, looking around at the mix of students. At least two of them wore insignia denoting ANBU trainee status – they of all people truly needed to be here for their own sanity later in life.

“So to start off, I always get this question at some point in the lecture: ‘What’s the point of this? We’re shinobi – we are human weapons of mass destruction capable of ending hundreds or thousands of lives in the blink of an eye. Sooner or later, we’ll all learn on the job, anyway. So why waste an afternoon discussing something many of us will do later on, some even tonight? Why study killing?’

"Throughout history man has been surrounded by close and personal death and killing, and the profession that has been chosen for us is at the forefront of these issues. Killing another human being is one of the defining moments of any individual’s life, and has the capability to be the single most devastating event in life, forever marring the soul and damaging the psyche many years after the act. It is such a powerful and innately repulsive act for the vast majority of humanity that many will even choose to have their own lives ended rather than kill another person. But we are not given the option of shying away from death. One of the prime job requirements of any shinobi in any branch is to be able to end life both from a distance as well as up close and personal. Simply put, we simply cannot choose not to kill. And if we are to retain our sanity over years and years of performing this singularly damaging act, we MUST understand it fully.

"In this lecture I intend to cover the following subjects: First, the existence of a powerful, innate human resistance toward killing one’s own species, and the psychological mechanisms that have been developed by armed forces over centuries to overcome that resistance. Second, the role of atrocity in war and the mechanisms by which armed forces are both empowered by and entrapped by atrocity. Third, what it feels like to kill, a set of standard response stages to killing in combat, and the psychological price of killing. And fourth, the techniques that have been developed and applied with tremendous success in modern combat training in order to condition soldiers and shinobi to overcome their resistance to killing.

"On a personal note, for those of you who do not know me, my name is Nara Bii-Ryu. I am a medical chief shinobi and have served the village for over thirty five years in the Main and Medical branches. I have been trained in land and undersea warfare and have been deployed to conflicts in the Fire, Wind, and Water countries, Lightning colonial territories, and participated in the defense of Cloud during the Demon Invasion. I have also killed in combat. However, for the majority of this lecture I have chosen to focus on the multitude of stories, testimony, and accounts of the thousands of shinobi and non-shinobi soldiers I have treated over the years, who were kind enough to entrust me with their deepest secrets and painful experiences. They as well as I hope that the lessons learned from these experiences can help future generations of shinobi.

So before I begin the main lecture, I would like to ask of the participants here: Who among you has been in actual violent combat, and if so, have you ever killed another human being? Keep in mind that this is not intended as a gauge of ‘manhood’ or any similar ridiculousness. Statistically, none of you should actually respond yes.”
Alright, starting first round. Don't worry, you can keep posts short in my classes and there is no real post order. You may also choose to skip rounds if you feel you have nothing of value to add. As long as you have participated in at least two rounds (I envision this class going about 5-6 rounds), you will get credit. For those who haven't joined yet, you may also come in any any time except for the very last round. You can choose whether or not to RP being late or having been in class the whole time (Ren, I'm looking at you).
 

Tanaka Ai

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As the room began to fill, Ai kept his eyes locked on the wall behind the teacher. This was somewhat of an exercise of willpower for the paranoid student, as every fiber of his being screamed to swivel in his seat and study each person as they entered. However, fearing the inevitable eye contact that would result from such an action, he busied himself with laying out a mental map of the simple room. Listening closely to each arrival, Ai was confident he could list each persons distance from him, and they’re location relative to the exit. As usual, Ai had his exit strategy worked out.

The problem arose when the fourth addition to the class, a young man by the sound of his voice, slid into the seat next to his.
‘Too close, much too close’ shouted the boy’s inner voice. ‘Do something! TAKE ACTION! MOVE MOVE MO-‘ “Alright, I think we have enough to start.”
‘MOVE DAMNIT! Baka! You should-’
“-you will be thanking yourselves when the time comes.”
‘Shut up! I need to pay attention this.’ Ai silently shouted, fighting to keep his mask of somber attentiveness up on his face. How he hated these daily inner conflicts, but that wasn’t the demon he was here today to address.

As he listened to the lecturer, a veteran of the Nara family, Ai couldn’t help but wonder what his future held. He hadn’t put very much thought into why he had entered the academy; it was just something that was done in his family. All his brothers before him had entered the academy, and one by one had grown stronger and stronger, always in a competition with one another to be the biggest and baddest. That however didn’t interest Ai, who could care less about who’s ass he could kick or, to quote his eldest brother, ‘who’s girl he could lick.’

‘If not one of them, what will I become?’

“We’re shinobi – we are human weapons of mass destruction capable of ending hundreds or thousands of lives in the blink of an eye.”

‘Does that answer your question?’
‘I suppose we’ll see. I’ll see. Damn, shut up!’

Ai couldn’t help but shake his head, as if he could clear up his mental… friend with a physical act other than driving a kunai into his own skull. He had to focus. Though he had never put any real thought into the act of killing, he supposed he would take it in stride. If it was him or them, Ai would chose himself. After all, nobody had ever spared him any discomfort, mental and physical anguish were as constant of companions as the incessant voice in his head.

“And if we are to retain our sanity over years and years of performing this singularly damaging act, we MUST understand it fully”

‘And how will you keep your sanity if you lost it year’s ago?’
‘Shut up and so I can pay attention.’

[MFT]
 

Takahashi Ren

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That morning, Ren had laid in bed determined not to go to school. Ten minutes before the class she'd told herself she wouldn't go to was due to start, she realized that skipping wasn't really an option in a ninja academy (because corporal punishment was a thing, a completely legal thing) and had scrambled to the lecture hall. It was smaller than the one she'd had her first class in, with actual desks instead of giant rows, and the man rising from his seat appeared to be an actual ninja. Though looks, Ren was starting to understand, didn't really mean much in this world.

Okay, now to not trip... Her eyes darted this way and that - she thought she recognized a few faces from last time, but her nerves were a little shot from being a little late, and she zoned in on the first easily accessible seat she found. It was in the back, towards the center of the room, and she sat just as their teacher started to speak.

He started off with discussing the lecture's title, which Ren had been expecting. Her fingers itched with the need to fidget or drum on her desktop. She hadn't wanted to come to this lecture for this exact reason: Ren didn't like thinking about the future in any capacity, particularly not when her future seemed to require death and maiming and more death. So when the teacher, who'd introduced himself as Nara something or other (true to form, Ren hadn't been paying full attention), ended off his little speech with a question, Ren stayed silent. Unlike the last class, where she'd spoken up about every time, Ren didn't know what to say and didn't really want to say anything. She'd listen (as much as she could, anyway), but beyond that...she'd operate on the thought that if she didn't associate with herself, she'd be fine. Completely fine.

Then again - Ren did have an abnormally large mouth. As much as she didn't want to talk, something told her she'd be shooting her mouth off anyway.
 

Shu

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It was early in the afternoon where the sun was still hidden under the puffy clouds. He was sitting next to an open window at the library quietly reading a small red velvet book. The contents of the book examined the importance murderous assaintations and their influences in politics. After hearing the entire debacle Enishi's recent attacks. Could there been a connection between the recent political instability and Enishi?

It was evident that the thought flustered Shin as he removed his tinted glasses and rubbed the corner of his nose. Moments later an announcement escaped the hidden intercoms from the ceiling.

"Attention students, Bii-Ryu is holding a lecture at the great hall for all MiT, AiT, and genin. The topic will be on the psychological cost of killing. More information can be found at the front desk or in Aurora Eruditio."

Shin raised his eyebrow taking note of what was just said. He began to rise from his seat as he walked toward the lobby where he could see the receptionist smile at him. "Good afternoon." Shin said with his own warm grin. "Would you mind giving me the academy schedule for today?" Shin said as he walked toward the front desk.

"Of course, Raikage-sama." She said as her hands disappeared under her desk. She pulled out a clean parchment and handed to Shin. Shin carefully examined the schedule and discovered that the next lecture would start in the next twenty minutes. Shin thanked the woman as he returned the sheet back to the receptionist.
.............................​

Mintues later, Shin began to entered the academy preoccupied by a contentious argument with Hitomi. "I am aware of that but I need to attend this lecture ...Yes, let them come to my office in the next hour." Shin said as he meander through the busy hallways. It was fortuitous of him not to be a walking attraction as students flew right past like scurring insects. He could here gossips about the missing sennin and the visiting shinobi from Kirigakure. The thought that the rest of the sennin were dispersed in the country. His dead friend, Takaki Masao, was in prison and Santaru Rin was no where to be found. It was less known where her replacement, Ayumu, was located. Now he had these Kirigakure nin soliciting in the village. The only reason given to him was that they were here in vacation.

Shin reached toward the door where the large lecture hall and entered. He noticed the most of the students were all of various ranks ranging from academy students to medical nins in training. They were all intently listening to Bii-Ryu lecture. Shin made no effort to make known his presence as he sat at the back corner. He calmly took out a skinny black notebook underneath his cloak and a quill pen as he waited for the lecture continue.
 

Homura Akuma

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When the man words had started to flow Saizo had zoned in and started to go swimming in the verbal river. At this point he had let his mind engage each word thrown at him. He first wanted to see if this oration was going to be bulls*** from a bulls******. However the mans introduction sentences brought a small smirk to his face and a solid reassurance.

“Alright, I think we have enough to start.
First of all, thank you for coming to this class
– or rather, I find that in the future,
you will be thanking yourselves when the time comes,”

'I'm sure we will.'

The intial statement sounded borderline arrogant, but deep down Saizo probably could agree he was just being straightforward and not playing Mr. positively optimistic. Killing was real, killing was necessary and this was their crash course. To speak about killing among his peers was sort of taboo. Talking about death was like a unwritten rule and a topic of conversation that never was brought to the forefront. But how was this man so casual with a subject where others were cold sober. Instantaneously a question festered, but he would save it in the query bank to see if a withdrawal was actually needed.

Pushing the bridge of his glasses, in the prevention of them slipping off. His attention was focused on the speech until it was broken by a momentary distraction. The AiT immediately honed in on the vibrations at the wooden portal with his eyes darting to the door before the little frail blonde had entered. He thought she didn't look like great ninja material, but he wasn’t quick to think she lacked purpose.

Back to the lecture at hand or so he thought when yet another soul would enter. However this wasn’t just anybody, it was the Raikage. Surely his materialization wouldn't go as unnoticed as his attempt to creep into class. This raised yet another smirk as it was quite comical really, if you thought about it or if your humor had a pulse.

It was hard not to unwaver his focus to the lecture ongoing but he couldn’t help but wonder why was the Kage present in a class about killing. Perhaps the road to the top isn't as bloody as Saizo’s imagination makes it seem.

"So before I begin the main lecture,
I would like to ask of the participants here:
Who among you has been in actual violent combat,
and if so, have you ever killed another human being?
Keep in mind that this is not intended as a gauge of ‘manhood’
or any similar ridiculousness.
Statistically, none of you should actually respond yes.”


Were there any takers who was going to step up and respond. After a temporary silence Saizo broke the stillness with subtle chaos.
"Uh....Yes to violent combat.
Personally I can't say dat I have killed."


'Yet.'

"Now Senpai
-is there a difference mentally,
when you start killing at a younger age.
Lets say like 15.
Or if you start at a older age?
Lets say like 25 and up."

Hell Saizo wasn't going to save all his questions. He also suddenly felt comfortable enough to talk on the subject of killing as if this Bii-Ryu had opened Pandora's Box and everyone was open to indulge freely. The Kyoujouran still took the matter of killing seriously, but while in this open casual setting he was going to take advantage of this opportunity to get answers. It was like he was searching confirmation that it was okay to accept the mindstate of becoming a ruthless killer, a ruthless murderer, and a ruthless assassin.

[MFT]
 

Ryu Hime

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As the more people entered into the classroom she would noticed their auras and memorize them for future occasions. She ignored Junko for she did not like being called ‘baby-cakes’. The brightest aura that entered the room was the Kage’s. His half-hearted way of being unseen would not work on her as it did not work on Saizo. The Kage too sat in the back were most of the other people took seat. Was she the only one that liked to sit in the very front row?

Saizo was the first to break the silence ask he admitted that he was innocent of killing another human being. Shimete was not so innocent for there was a traitor in her clan. She had to hunt him down and kill him do to the sins of the father. Her father, a man dead before she was even born, was a traitor. She had to prove her loyalty, so she took her first life at her current age of ten. The man sought destruction to his own clan and country that he swore to protect. He was no human, in Shimete’s mind, he was something far less. “Yes I have been in a violent combat and yes I have killed one of my own. He was a traitor to the clan and country.” If Saizo wanted an example of one who killed at a younger age Shimete would work as one. Though in truth she remembers very little of the incident, it was like a gap in her memory. Maybe this was one of the psychological costs the teacher will address. Kirito kept silent for he knew the truth she does not remember.
 

Tsuyoshi Junko

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Shimete ignored Junko completely. Junko smiled due to the fact that he had much to learn about, women. "Shimete is quite a puzzle, it seems as time progresses I learn a bit at a time though.  I'll figure her out one day."<i></i>

"So before I begin the main lecture, I would like to ask of the participants here: Who among you has been in actual violent combat, and if so, have you ever killed another human being? Keep in mind that this is not intended as a gauge of ‘manhood’ or any similar ridiculousness. Statistically, none of you should actually respond yes.”

"Wow! Now that's what I call straight to the point." A boy towards the back seemed to have broken the moment of silence, followed by Shimetes response. 

"Uh....Yes to violent combat.
Personally I can't say dat I have killed."

'Yet.'

"Now Senpai
-is there a difference mentally,
when you start killing at a younger age. 
Lets say like 15. 
Or if you start at a older age?
Lets say like 25 and up."</B>
<B>

“Yes I have been in a violent combat and yes I have killed one of my own. He was a traitor to the clan and country.” </COLOR>
<i></i>

<COLOR color="grey">"I wonder what would my brother say in this predicament?"<i></i> Junko began to laugh for a brief moment as he realized what his reply was going to be, so he thought. "Well, I know I have never killed anyone, but I think that I am much obliged to killing. I have a mindset for battle to be honest! The thought of battle makes me tremble in excitement. I have only been in one major training session with intense battle, but with that spar in Shinbatsu path it seemed as if I awakened a lust for battle." 

Junko stop talking as he realized he might have been getting really ahead of himself. His heart pounded and his legs trembled. "How much has this ninja world changed us brother? Why am I like this? I wonder if my Sensei Daisuke has ever had this problem?"<i></i> 
 

Takaki Saeko

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Bii-Ryu casually noted the presence of the Raikage in a back corner, somewhat near a hyperactive-looking boy who seemed to have trouble sitting still, and a smudgy-looking girl with a generously-sized mouth. It was actually not unusual for Shin to attend various lectures occasionally – he was after all, a scholar at heart. And the old mednin knew that if there was anything the Raikage disliked more than anything else, it was to have classes interrupted on his behalf. So he got right back to resuming the lecture and answering questions.

The young man with the Shinbatsu-hued skin was the first to respond and to ask a question. The insignia he wore marked him as an ANBU trainee, and he looked around 14 or 15 years of age. If he had followed the normal training schedule, he might have already been farmed out by Sileo Command to one or more conflicts around the world. And he had a question as well.
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“Thank you for your response, ANBU trainee. To answer your question, there are very significant differences between mental ages from 15 to 25, and killing affects the younger in different and insidious ways than it does adults. Although this cannot be proven for sure, there are many who believe that early exposure to death and violence, especially in a deliberate, regulated, and graduated fashion, actually may help break down the normal human resistance to taking life and thus condition future soldiers to kill more easily than adults without the same exposure. However, as we have seen from studies of returning Water Country-conflict veterans, the psychological aftermath of actually performing the deed is not mitigated by early exposure and in truth may be more devastating in the end for the young. I will actually talk more about this process in the third and fourth parts of the lecture, so keep thinking about this,” he said to Saizo.

Another one, a female student who sat in the front row and had the appearance and subtle markings of an indentured clan servitor, responded that yes, she had killed someone before. But whether it was due to gaps in her memory or deliberate reticence, she did not seem willing to disclose more.

“And thank you too, for being willing to respond. While I will not pressure you to talk about it if you do not want to, I would like to ask you some more about your experience later, so that the entire class may benefit. Also, unlike your mast- sorry, employer, you are not required to obey me, and I want to emphasize that fact, okay?” said Bii-Ryu to Shimete, reassuringly. Part of him recoiled inwardly in disgust at her situation. Blood-slavery was a distasteful relic of the past, and something that had been on its way out even before he was born. The last time he had seen one of her kind in public had been when he was five years old. She had been an old woman in her seventies, who, it had been whispered, was once a Santaru patriarch’s personal property. He would have to speak to the Raikage about this girl’s situation, if it were as bad as he feared.

Finally, another student near the front, a dark-haired, plain-looking boy, responded with a rather interesting statement. That he had been in a violent spar, but that it had pleased him greatly.

“Thank you for raising that interesting point,” he said to Junko. “I can tell that you censored yourself so as not to appear to the others as some sort of ‘bloodthirsty maniac’. However, as I will cover in the later lecture, your response to violence is not actually abnormal, nor does it necessarily imply that you have psychopathic tendencies. In fact, many soldiers and shinobi, even those who have become psychiatric casualties as a direct result of violent conflict, tell me the same thing: fighting is fun. But we will cover that later,” he said, nodding to Junko. He now turned to the rest of the class.

“Our first step in the study of killing is to understand the existence, extent, and nature of the average human’s resistance to killing his fellow human. It has always been assumed that the average soldier, and I use soldier as a broad term which includes shinobi, would kill in combat simply because his country and his leaders had told him to do so, and because it was essential to defend his own life and the life of his friends. When the point came that he didn’t kill, it was assumed that he panicked and ran.

“In the aftermath of the Waterfall Wars over fifty years ago, an Imperial Army Brigadier General by the name of S. L. A. Marusha asked these average soldiers what it was they did in battle. His singularly unexpected discovery was that, of ever hundred men along the line of fire during a period of an encounter, an average of only 15 to 20 ‘would take any part with their weapons.’ This was consistently true ‘whether the action was spread over a day, or two days or three.’

“General Marusha was an Imperial Army historian and had a team of historians working for him, and they conducted interviews with Imperial Army and Navy troops immediately after they had been in close combat with enemy troops. The results were consistently the same: only 15 to 20 percent of the Imperial soldiers in combat during the Waterfall Wars would fire at the enemy. Those who would not fire did not run or hide (in many cases they were willing to risk greater danger to rescue comrades, get ammunition, or run messages), but they simply would not fire their weapons at the enemy, even when faced with repeated waves of infantry charges.

“The question is why. Why did these men fail to fire? The answer is that there exists in most men and women an intense resistance to killing their fellow man. A resistance so strong that in many circumstances, soldiers on the battlefield will die before they can overcome it.

“To some, this makes obvious sense. Many people say ‘I would never kill someone’ or ‘I could never bring myself to do it.’ But they are wrong. With proper conditioning and proper circumstances, it appears that almost anyone can and will kill. Others might say ‘any man will kill in combat when he is faced with someone who is trying to kill him.’ And they would be even more wrong, for we have observed that throughout history the majority of men on the battlefield would not attempt to kill the enemy, even to save their own lives or the lives of their friends.”
Then I cautiously raised the upper half of my body into the tunnel until I was lying flat on my stomach. When I felt comfortable, I placed my Santaru & Wesuton .38 caliber snub-nosed handbolter (sent to me by my father for tunnel work) beside the flashlight and switched on the light, illuminating the tunnel.

There, not more than three meters away, sat a Marsh soldier eating a handful of rice from a pouch on his lap. We looked at each other for what seemed to be an eternity, but in fact was probably only a few seconds.

Maybe it was the surprise of actually finding someone else there, or maybe it was just the absolute innocence of the situation, but neither one of us reacted.

After a moment, he put his pouch of rice on the floor of the tunnel beside him, turned his back to me and slowly started crawling away. I, in turn, switched off my flashlight, before slipping back into the lower tunnel and making my way back to the entrance. About 20 minutes later, we received word that another squad had killed a Marsh soldier emerging from a tunnel 500 meters away.

I never doubted who that soldier was. To this day, I firmly believe that grunt and I could have ended the war sooner over a beer in Port Cirrus than Kagetsu Kiyo ever could by attending the peace talks.

-Musashi Jou, Genin.

“The ‘fight or flight’ model has often been used to explain some of the stresses of combat. However, the fight or flight model is an appropriate set of choices for any creature faced with danger other than that which comes from its own species. When we examine the responses of creatures confronted with aggression from their own species, the set of options expands to include posturing and submission.

“The first decision point in an intraspecies conflict usually involves the decision between fleeing or posturing. A threatened baboon or rooster who elects to stand its ground does not respond to aggression from one of his own kind by leaping instantly to the enemy’s throat. Instead, both creatures instinctively go through a series of posturing actions that, while intimidating, are almost always harmless. These actions are designed to convince an opponent that the posturer is a dangerous and frightening adversary.

“When the posturer has failed to dissuade an intraspecies opponent, the options then become fight, flight, or submission. And when the fight option is utilized, it is almost never to the death. Piranhas and rattlesnakes will bite almost anything, but among themselves piranhas fight with raps of their tails, and rattlesnakes wrestle. Somewhere during the course of such highly constrained and nonlethal fights, one of these intraspecies combatants will usually become daunted by the ferocity and prowess of its opponent, and its only options become submission or flight. Submission is a surprisingly common response, usually taking the form of fawning and exposing some vulnerable portion of anatomy to the victor, in the instinctive knowledge that the opponent will not kill or further harm one of its own kind once it has surrendered. The posturing, mock battle, and submission process is vital to the survival of the species. It prevents needless deaths and ensures that a young male will live through early confrontations when his opponents are bigger and better prepared. Having been outpostured by his opponent, he can then submit and live to mate, passing on his genes in later years.

“There is a clear distinction between actual violence and posturing. This is true in Port Cirrus street gangs, it is true in ‘so-called primitive tribesman and warriors,’ and it is true in almost any culture in the world. All have the same ‘patterns of aggression’ and all have ‘very orchestrated, highly ritualized’ patterns of posturing, mock battle, and submission. These rituals restrain and focus the violence on relatively harmless posturing and display. What is created is a ‘perfect illusion of violence.’ Aggression, yes. Competitiveness, yes. But only a tiny level of actual violence. ‘There is,’ concludes Imperial Historian Takagi Masao, ‘the occasional psychopath who really wants to slice people open,’ but most of the participants are really interested in ‘status, display, profit, and damage limitation.’ For the kids who have fought in close combat throughout history (and it is children whom most societies traditionally send off to do their fighting), killing the enemy is the very least of their intentions. In war, as in gang warfare, posturing is the name of the game.

“An example of this is seen in the battle of Chipyong-Ni during the Bear-Marsh War.”
The [Marsh] soldiers formed a hundred or two hundred meters in front of the small hill which the Bear occupied, then launched their attack, blowing whistles and bugles, and running with bayonets fixed. When this noise started, the Bear soldiers began cranking a hand siren they had, and one squad started running toward the Marsh, yelling and throwing grenades to the front and to the side. When the two forces were within twenty meters of each other the Marsh suddenly turned and ran in the opposite direction. It was all over within a minute.

“Here we see an incident in which posturing (involving sirens, explosions, and charging bayonets) by a small force was sufficient to cause a numerically superior enemy to hastily select the flight option.

“And with the advent of gas-assisted bolters, the soldier has been provided with one of the finest possible means of posturing. ‘Time and time again,’ says Historian Countess Oishi Bakunin, ‘we read of regiments [in the Lightning Country Civil War] blazing away uncontrollably, once started, and continuing until all ammunition was gone or enthusiasm spent. Firing was such a positive act, and gave the men such a physical release for their emotions, that instincts easily took over from training and from the exhortations of officers.’

“Before the advent of the Tenouzan gas-assisted cocking system for bolters, all projectile weapons had to be cranked or pulled back by hand, and the discharge of such a weapon was relatively silent. However, modern bolters which utilize tetraethyl dithiopyrophosphate gas, or in lay terms, 'Ryoma's farts' to assist in their operation, have a distinctly loud cracking or booming sound associated with their discharge, as well as an occasional gout of flame which emerges from the barrel. The modern bolter’s superior noise and posturing ability made it ascendant on the battlefield. After all, we would still be using the longbow in modern conflicts if the raw mathematics of killing effectiveness was all that mattered. But a frightened soldier thinking with his midbrain and going ‘ploink ploink’ with his longbow doesn’t stand a chance against an equally frightened man going ‘BANG BANG’ with a modern crossbolter.

“Firing a bolter or utilizing a loud or disruptive jutsu clearly fills the deep-seated need to posture, and it even meets the requirements of being relatively harmless when we consider the consistent historical occurrences of firing over the enemy’s head, and the remarkable ineffectiveness of such fire. This can be seen in Takagi Masao’s account of an almost bloodless nighttime firefight during the Civil War in BS ’01. ‘It seems strange,’ wrote Takagi, ‘that a company of men can fire volley after volley at a like number of men at not over a distance of fifteen steps and not cause a single casualty. Yet such was the facts in this instance.’ Now, arbalestillery fire, is an entirely different matter, sometimes accounting for more than 50 percent of the casualties on battlefields, and long-range, wide-area jutsu has consistently accounted for the majority of shinobi combat casualities for the last hundred years. This is largely due to group processes at work, which I will address in detail later.

“In addition, missing a target does not necessarily involve firing obviously high, and two decades of experience on the academy bolter range have taught me that a soldier must fire unusually high for it to be obvious to an observer. In other words, the intentional miss can be a very subtle form of disobedience. An excellent example of soldiers exercising their right to miss is one ANBU’s account of going with a unit of Cloud shinobi on an ambush of a civilian river launch in Fire Country.
“I’ll never forget [Jounin-Commander] Ringo’s words as he told the entire formation: ‘If you kill a woman, you’re killing a rabid bitch! If you kill a child, you’re killing a diseased rat!’ And off we went to kill women and children.

Once again I was part of the 10 men who would actually perform the ambush. We cleared our fields of fire and settled back to await the arrival of women and children and whatever other civilian passengers there might be on this launch. Each man was alone with his thoughts. Not a word was spoken among us regarding the nature of our mission. Ringo paced back and forth nervously some yards behind us in the protection of the jungle.

...the loud throb of the powerful diesels of the [evacuation boat] preceded its arrival by a good two minutes. The signal to commence firing was given as it appeared in front of us and I watched the plasma jutsu arc over the boat and into the jungle on the opposite bank. The machine-ballista opened up, I rattled off a 20-bolt burst from my ST-15. Brass was flying as thick as jungle insects as our squad emptied their magazines. Every bolt and jutsu sailed harmlessly over the civilian craft.

When Ringo realized what was happening he came running out of the jungle cursing violently and firing his weapon at the disappearing launch. We Cloud shinobi are mean bastards and tough soldiers. But we’re not murderers. I laughed aloud in relief and pride as we packed up and prepared to move out.

-Kaguya Dashi, ANBU.

“Even more remarkable than instances of posturing, and equally indisputable, is the fact that a significant number of soldiers in combat elect to not even fire at all. In this respect their actions very much resemble the actions of those members of the animal kingdom who ‘submit’ passively to the aggression and determination of their opponent rather than fleeing, fighting, or posturing. General Marusha noted that even in situations where there were several boltermen together in position facing an advancing enemy, only one was likely to fire while the others would tend to such ‘vital’ tasks as running messages, providing ammunition, tending wounded, and spotting targets. Marusha makes it clear that in most cases the firers were aware of the large body of nonfirers around them. The inaction of these passive individuals did not seem to have a demoralizing effect on the actual firers. To the contrary, the presence of nonfirers seemed to enable the firers to keep going.

“So this all begs the question: Why Can’t Shinji Kill?

"Marusha studied this issue during the entire period of the Waterfall War, and came up with this conclusion:
It is therefore reasonable to believe that the average and healthy individual – the man or woman who can entire the mental and physical stresses of combat – still has such an inner and usually unrealized resistance towards killing a fellow human being that he will not of his own volition take life if it is possible to turn away from that responsibility. At that vital point, he becomes a conscientious objector.

“He understood, more than anyone else, the mechanics and emotions of combat. ‘I well recall,’ he said, ‘the great sense of relief that came to [Waterfall War troops] when they were passed to a quiet sector.’ And he believed that this was ‘due not so much to the realization that things were safer there as to the blessed knowledge that for a time they were not under the compulsion to take life.’ In his experience the philosophy of the Waterfall War was ‘Let ‘em go; we’ll get ‘em some other time.’

“Even after General Marusha’s revelations, the subject of nonfirers is still uncomfortable for the Lightning Country military as well as for Cloud Village leadership. When he was Vice Commander of the ANBU, Takaki Masao complained that ‘thinking back to my many years of service, I cannot remember a single official lecture or class discussion of how to assure that your men will fire.’

“So where does this resistance to killing one’s fellow man come from? Is it learned, instinctive, rational, environmental, hereditary, cultural, or social? Some combination of all of the above? No one knows for sure, but there is a hypothesis that at some gut level, each person understands that all humanity is inextricably interdependent and that to harm any part is to harm the whole. Raikage Kagetsu Kiyo the First understood this even as she consolidated Cloud Village into the potent military force it is today. ‘Every individual dispensation is one of the causes of the prosperity, success, and even survival of That which administers the universe. To break off any particle, no matter how small, from the continuous concatenation – whether of causes or of any other elements – is to injure the whole,’ she wrote. Raikage Santaru Ryuuto, one of the greatest military minds in Cloud’s history, noted that some of the men under his command in the Colony Wars near Water Country had reached a point of reflection after battle in which they ‘came to see the young Natives they had killed as allies in a bigger war of individual existence, as young men with whom they were united throughout their lives against the impersonal ‘thems’ of the world,’ and made the powerful perception that ‘in killing the grunts of Water Country, the grunts of Lightning Country had killed a part of themselves.’

“There can be no doubt that this resistance to killing one’s fellow man is there, and that it exists as a result of a powerful combination of instinctive, rational, environmental, hereditary, cultural, and social factors. It is there, it is strong, and it gives us cause to believe that there just may be hope for humankind after all.”

Bii-Ryu stopped to take another sip of his coffee. Hopefully the students hadn’t nodded off at this point.

“Are there any questions so far? And perhaps for some of the older shinobi this room, does this match your experiences in battle?”
 
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Jo jotted down notes as he listened to the lecture, his eyes never wavering from the professor. He had the uncanny ability to write in perfect calligraphy without even looking at the paper, not a single letter dipping below the college rule lines. He also had the knack of being able to memorize any information, so long as he heard it, wrote it, and said it. So, while he was writing, he silently mumbled under his breath every word the professor said, absorbing the information like a sponge. The topic was interesting, and dealt directly with his intended line of work. He hadn’t planned on going to the Medical or ANBU Corps; rather, he preferred to stay in the main branch so that he could get the widest variety of mission types. Besides, he would be first on the front lines should Cloud ever go to war. While he didn’t want to kill anyone if he could help it, he knew that, if put into a fight or flight situation, he would to anything to win. Not a win by domination either. There would be no holds barred if he had to fight for his life. If he had to raise a hand to his fellow man, he would be aiming to kill. There was no honor in fighting by a set of rules, no glory in fighting fair. He would win by any means necessary, because winning would mean he got the honor of coming back home alive. It would be a mistake to enter into combat with Jo and expect any mercy.

The lecture reminded him of the stories his father told. Jo’s dad had been a field medic for the local Shoguns army. He had seen his fair share of death and destruction, and helped mend the bloody mess that had once been the young men and women who fought to protect their families and their homes. He had also been unfortunate enough to have to take lives in combat when the field hospital he was assigned to was ambushed. He had only recently opened up to Jo about the experience when Jo was entered into the academy, trying to pass on as much wisdom from his days in the military as he could in a desperate attempt to help his son survive. His fathers words echoed in his head as the lecture paused for questions.
’I didn’t think about it, didn’t have time to. I just drew my handbolter and fired it as they ran into the surgical tent. The first one was so close his head exploded when the bolt hit him. The second took two in the chest before he went down. A third knocked the bolter from my hand and tackled me. We wrestled for a bit, kicking over trays of medical equipment and supplies. He had a dagger at my throat, was all I could do to keep it off my skin. After a minute, I was able to roll over on top of him and force the dagger back on him. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes as the blade sank into this chest. I could feel his heart beating through the grip, so I twisted, and it was done.’ Jo’s father paused to sip his scotch, the liquor making the shaking in his hand stop. ’I was sick as a dog afterwards, threw up everywhere. I kept screaming “FUCK! FUCK!! FUCK!!!” The noise dies down as the ambush ended, that’s when I remembered there was a guy still on the operating table. More injured started pouring in from the rest of the camp. So I stood up, shook myself off, and scrubbed back in. Finished sewing the kid up that was on the table, then did triage for bit. It felt like forever before I was sitting on my cot. I was fucking exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it all over again. I still wake up from a dead sleep because of that night; I can still feel that kids heart beat.” To emphasize this, he clutched his free hand in an all-too-real simulation of an erratic heartbeat. ”I talked to some of the more experienced guys the next day, mostly patients. Asked them how they dealt with it. You know what they said? ‘We just suck it up. Whenever you start thinking about it, just remember; your wife ain’t a widow, your son ain’t an orphan, and your friends here ain’t in a body bag.’ So I asked, ‘What about the other guys, what about their families?’ They just shook their heads and told me not to think about it. I try not to, but sometimes…” Jo’s dad sipped his scotch again, and shook his head. ”Just remember, son. When you’re out there, you do what you have to do; but you come home to your family, alright?” Jo remembered nodding and sipping the touch of scotch his father let him have that night. It burned as it went down, and that burn still lingers. A fire to keep him warm, a fire to keep him alive.

Jo came back to reality, realizing he’d left the tip of his pen on the paper too long, resulting in the notes he had taken being flooded in a puddle of ink. He tore the page out and tossed it expertly into a nearby trash can, having memorized the information anyway.
 

Uka

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When had been the last time he had been to a lecture? He didn't quite remember anymore really, though that didn't really matter at this point. By the looks this was going to be quite interesting for sure. The shinobi existence really was an interesting one, no doubt about that. Human life was something put quite far at the bottom of the importance list, then again any soldier was like that. Sure you get told to act a certain way every day of your training, but that doesn't really prepare you for what really happens the first time you kill somebody. It is only really when you do make that first kill do you find out who you really are - will you remember every kill you make every second of your life and gain respect for the worth of a human being or will you enjoy it and lose your mind. Sometimes it is both or so experience has shown. Takehiko is the first kind himself. Every single person who has fallen under his blades hunts his dreams and by the looks they would never really go away. Maybe this is why he hates the entire notion of killing someone or murder by itself disgusted him. Strange for an anbu isn't it?

From there it really wasn't a surprise when he shook his head in denial when the lecturer asked that question. It might have been a rather obvious lie, but the chances of them actually knowing it was one was rather low. Then again it was highly unlikely anyone in the room had ever seen him before in the first place. Oh well.

Takehiko smiled at the man as he sat down beside him in the corner (If you would have preferred the other corner of the room please ignore this) , but that just went to the very back of the anbus mind. The topics which were arising rather quickly took up the bulk of his attention, though the lecture itself was quickly peaking it.

[MFT]
 

Takahashi Ren

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Ren had never once claimed to be a smart kid: big words and concepts went right over her head, and she was content to let them do so. As a result, she expected that the majority of the lecture would float around her, some of it maybe filtering in to make sense. Ren did, however, try to pay extra attention to her classmates' answers and their teacher's responses to them. Though after hearing them, she then had to take a second to make sure her twitchy scowl wasn't visible to anyone. Just because she got green-faced at the thought of murder - no, not murder, just…work, it was work now - didn't mean that she had to take it out on people that did it.

Especially since I'll be one of those people soon enough… Ren crossed her arms, tried to clear her mind, and refocused on the lecture. It was either that or get lost in her own thoughts, and between the two of them, she'd rather have her head hurt via information overload than contemplate dropping out of the academy because she 'couldn't handle it.' And she flat-out refused to do that, so she'd have to listen and then listen some more to keep all of those worries at bay.

Nara-sensei kept talking, and for once Ren found that she at least understood the gist of what was going on. People had an innate resistance to killing, it seemed, which made Ren feel the tiniest bit better about herself. It wasn't just her, then, who got squeamish; it was a human thing, and maybe the urge to kill wasn't as common - or as necessary - as she had first thought. She fought the urge to smile a little as she listened to the tales of soldiers who had ignored their supposed commands to posture harmlessly instead, and she had to outright press her hand against her mouth to stifle a laugh as she learned about Ryoma's farts.

As the lecture wound down, Ren found herself quite awake, even if she had shifted at some point to rest her cheek on her palm. Surprisingly, she didn't have any actual questions - nothing serious, at least. She just wanted to know who Ryoma was, and why he was misfortunate enough to have a gas named after him.
 

Homura Akuma

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Damn all that information was in his head!

If you had asked Saizo, the true ability of a Nara was the way their brain functioned and the mechanics of it at a computational neuroscience level. Perhaps their neuron's synapses fired at a rate much more rapid rate than your average denizen, maybe even faster than your more intelligent shinobi. Whatever the case was the AiT just thought it to be a interesting theory worth looking into.

He could admittedly to himself feel overwhelmed with such a large chuck of information, both in quantity and quality. But for the most part he got the chassis of what was built before him. However after ammo like this was stored, he needed to understand its caliber before it being fired or utilized as what we like to call applied philosophy. Yet as the Burakkupawa was still processing what was said, he did have a question about something.

"So Senpai.
It seems like we are unsure of a difference
between the firer versus the nonfirer.
I wonder though.
What is the difference?
If there is a difference?
If there isn't a sort of centralized philosophy,
what is your opinion on the established differences?
Like what makes a firer fire,
And a nonfirer a nonfirer.
Does that make sense?"


He had hoped he didn't sound dumb, but no one else was asking questions. Saizo learned best through challenging the information that's presented to him. He also was wondering why the others weren't asking questions. It led to underestimating the information before them, and if they underestimated killing, it only meant they were overestimating their knowledge of killing. So who really was in the dark?
 

Tsuyoshi Junko

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“Are there any questions so far? And perhaps for some of the older shinobi this room, does this match your experiences in battle?”

The room grew quite silent his question, or was it just everyone taking his words all in. Junko nerves calmed gradually and decided to look around the class a little. "Wow I didn't notice the Raikage was here. I wonder what's his purpose for coming today?"

"So Senpai.
It seems like we are unsure of a difference
between the firer versus the nonfirer.
I wonder though.
What is the difference? 
If there is a difference? 
If there isn't a sort of centralized philosophy,
what is your opinion on the established differences? 
Like what makes a firer fire,
And a nonfirer a nonfirer.
Does that make sense?"


Junko was quite interested in this lecture, unlike the last lecture he endured before his exam. Was he becoming more mature or was it a more interesting topic? If it was an interesting topic, then why did the topic of killing amused Junko so much? Junko decided to ask a few questions of his own. 

"You mentioned earlier that what I'm going through is quite normal, or ordinary so to speak. My question is, what would be out of the ordinary? In terms of firer and nonfirer, what causes a person to even put themselves in that state of mind? You mentioned that with the proper training that anyone could kill, what is this training like?"

Junko was quite curious to what the responses was going to be. "These questions may change how I look at the world. Let's see were this takes me."<i></i>
 
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