Shujin had started off the day with no urge to do much. That woman was still on his mind with no real sense behind it. She had been so overwhelming that he couldn't contain her for even a moment. His barrier had meant nothing to her. He was so confident in his skill and power and now he was just angry at his own obvious weakness. His dreams were filled with her but there was something under the anger. A hunger he used to know that he couldn't satisfy any longer. A hunger to grow stronger. A hunger for what was to come in order to gain that. His order still wasn't finished but he was aching for the feel of a puppet under his finger tips again. He had to purge his weaknesses. He needed to grow again. To be better than anyone that called this mess of a village home. To be stronger than that boy who had nearly boiled the springs and roasted the bandit in front of him. To be able to face such power with no caution and be as overwhelming as anyone. A difficult thing for a puppeteer but he would manage. He was not the mangy hound the orphanage had left him as.

So he was sitting on a stool at the sandy arena in a section by himself. Avoiding the others training in other parts of the grounds out of sight. In the distance an explosion could be heard or a battle cry. However he had chosen a walled off section where he couldn't even hear the banter between those who thought training together was a method of gaining their own limited strength. Fools that didn't know how to overcome the impossible or even enough to try. They would be genin for some time yet where as he would try and overcome that rank. Quickly too. It was not a position he intended to remain in for long. Even if he was waiting for her to have him prove himself he would gain strength on his own. However he was locked in his own thoughts of what to do while he waited. Of course there was physical training but what he really wanted to do was practice with a puppet. However being as his was still being ordered and he was too proud to borrow the academies, he was stuck with what he had available to him.

His blue eyes stared down at the black blade of his kunai as he ran a wet stone down the length of one side and up the other. A small bottle of oil sitting on the ground next to his feet as he set about sharpening a blade that didn't look like it had ever been dull. Its edge glistening in the light of the sun. He was settled into his seat with his tan cargo pants and blue hoody over a yellow button up shirt with the two top buttons undone. Attached to his right thigh was a pouch full of senbon. On his feet were a pair of brown boots tied with the shoelaces around his ankles. The sound of the kunai and sharpening against the stone was the only suggestion he was there. Besides him obviously sitting there after all. His snow white hair was a contrast against his tanned skin though his expression was fairly blank. Just a frown seemingly painted on his lips. Why he was even there he didn't really know. The sounds of others trying out new techniques were just annoying him. At best he could just practice throwing the kunai or senbon at one of the posts set across his section from him.

623

Black clothing and a tanto strapped to the back left of a belt was a familiar sight, or used to be, around the sandy arena. For a long while it had been absent from the eyes of those who frequented. Today though, was the day the man who had spent more time here in five years than many had spent their entire lives would return. He walked with his normal confidence, his eyes taking in the others as they trained. The sun made his pale, porcelain skin seem much brighter than it was, save for the dark scar over his left eye starting from the eyebrow down to the cheek bone. No one wanted to ask about his eye, as they used to see him with a headband over it like a makeshift eye patch. Now it looked as though a sword had been swung down his face, changing him forever. His left eye was a beautiful ocean blue, while the right was a dark navy blue. He was used to the oddity by now and the stares he would get, so Syekren wasn't too bothered by any of it.

The ninja walked through the training grounds, checking on everyone, considering his own training and what he would do for the day. Syekren eventually made his way over to the section he normally did his training: the section that was beyond the walls, near a gate that led to a more rigorous course for those that truly wanted to strengthen themselves. As he was walking through the section, he turned to see a lone young man sitting and sharpening the black blade of a kunai with a whetstone. Syekren looked around, a bit surprised that the young lad was sitting alone instead of training with others, or training at all. He thought for a moment, trying to decide f it was really worth his time to check up on some kid that no one else was spending their time with. Eventually he gave into his curiosity and approached the young man, hands in the pockets of his black shinobi tights. He stopped, a few feet from the seated position of the kid he was walking up to, tilting his head a bit to take the view in.

He had a bottle of oil on the ground next to his feet, for the whetstone of course, but he was sharpening a kunai that looked unused, as though he was only sharpening it to give himself something to do. He wore a pair of cargo pants and a yellow button up shirt. Over his shirt was a blue hoodie and he had snow white hair that was a contrast to tanned skin.  He had on brown boots to complete the ensemble, but didn't appear to wish to look up when someone approached. Then again, Syekren was a ninja, a skilled one at that, and so he was used to walking quietly upon unsuspecting people. he was so used to it, sometimes he didn't bother making noise. It was something to do with his ANBU training and he went a few more seconds before he realized this, giving a slight cough to get the attention of the young man. "You know, you're not going to get any stronger by sitting there sharpening an unused projectile. You'd get more use out of the whetstone if you used it as target practice. What are you doing sitting here alone while others are training?" While he was a curious man, he spoke with a gruff and stern voice of one speaking to a child that had broken a family vase. While it was intentional to sound condescending, he was sure it must have come off that way.

626

Shujin had been settled in his seat for some time now. His kunai wasn't going to get any sharper than it currently was. Yet the methodical movement seemed to settle his nerves as little as he sank into thought. The soft wisk, wisk, wisk the only sound that seemed to draw his mind towards anything. Almost a sense of meditation. It was calming when his mind was so troubled. The woman that was stronger than any Kage....So she had claimed and yet she was truthfully the only real power he had ever witnessed. If this were true than why did the country still stand? Could one person be so strong and yet not famous? What was the point of power without fame? He wanted his name known and yet this mysterious person that had broken his mirror barrier and dropped him to one knee without even making an effort promised him the kind of power she held in the darkness. She wanted him to turn from the village and prove he wasn't loyal to it. That much was fine as he didn't feel a connection to this place to begin with. It was just a stepping stone for him as he was just another tool to it.

Perhaps that meditation and deep thought was why he hadn't noticed the man approaching him. Or had he been paying more attention to begin with he may have noticed he hadn't heard anything to start with. The man was as silent as one of the still nights Suna was capable of. The kind of night that one wouldn't wish to be alone in a dark alley. Blue eyes would shoot up as the kunai would stop mid wisk down the wet stone. His grip tightening on it as he pursed his lips. A man older than him by the look of it. Not just anyone either. Aside from the obvious shinobi garb he had the kind of scar that suggested he had seen battle. Still he seemed to speak of how little progress Shujin was making. How useless the methodical practice was and inquiring as to why he wasn't training with others. His eyes shifted to the side to study a small bit of smoke rising from one particularly brutal spar. While it was true that one typically grew stronger working with others he had to admit he wasn't capable of competing with them. Not until his order was finished anyway. Still he would shift that cold gaze back to the man before him before glancing at the kunai as he raised it to his face to study the edge.

"Not everything is learned through tossing an opponent around a ring. One must respect and understand every weapon in their arsenal. This kunai is just like every other kunai in the academy and yet most ignore it. I know the weight, the exact length of the blade and the condition of the wrap on the handle. They assume that he with the largest fireball wins. I argue he that knows himself and his equipment equally remains standing as the world burns."

As if to continue on the point Shujin would spin the blade and hold it up at its center of gravity on one finger. It's tilt holding strong as it remained balanced. Of course it was still a kunai but somehow Shujin was under the impression he could do more with it than the lot of nobodies around them. For the time being he had to. At least until he had his puppet order finished. Once his equipment was on par with their jutsu he would crush them. Crush people along his road to fame and glory if they stood in his way. He would stand and fight. Still the question settled on his mind. One that had some sarcasm behind it as he still considered the man before him with a cold gaze.

"What is it you would suggest I be doing stranger? Throwing the kunai at one of those wooden posts a hundred times a day? We are no longer a part of the simplistic system of the academy."


1322

"You know, I suppose you're right. Tools are an important part of being a ninja, but so is honing your body and skills. If you do nothing to focus yourself to grow stronger, you'll get nothing back. You can sit here all day, every day, learning about those tools and sharpening their edges for a better cut. But that doesn't mean you'll have an advantage in a battle against someone who has put in the time and effort to surpass their peers. Take this tanto for example." With that, the man's hand came back to his tanto's hilt, pulling the blade from the sheathe, spinning it around his hand to hold it from a reverse grip, to a normal grip. His tanto was glowing a bright blue, as if radiating striking lightning from the blade itself. Upon the hilt's pommel was the symbol for sunagakure no sato, etched into the wood and metal as thought it was meant to be there from the very conception of thought when making a tool. "I can tell you nothing of the weight of this blade. I can tell you what it does, what I use it for. Those sorts of things. I can also tell you how many kills I've gotten with it. But I can tell you more about what I've done to train my body. You see where I'm going?"

He spun the tanto around once more, bringing it back to be sheathed on the back left of his belt. When asked what he would rather suggest the young man be doing, Syekren grinned and stomped his foot into the sand, raising his hand into a fist towards his own face, clenching it tightly. "I would suggest you take the embers within you, and let them grow into the burning flames of youth! I used to be a loser who couldn't win a duel if my life depended on it, now look at me! I have strength that even rivals a Kage, with my own style and power to boot. I have made myself into a tool not of the village, but of my own destiny. I protect the village not because I have to, or because it is an order.. but because I can. I use my strength to help others because I have the ability to. If I so chose I could just as easily kill everyone here.  But that's not the point. The point is you have to dig deep within yourself and use those flames that lie dormant to strengthen your resolve to become stronger and better than you are now. I can see you as a top ninja in the village, or even the five great nations, it all depends on how you apply yourself. You see what I mean?" Syekren took a more relaxed state, pushing his hands into the pockets of his shinobi tights. He wasn't one to go off on tangents like he just had anymore, but he wanted to inspire this kid.

After a moment, he pulled his hands back from his pockets and brought out a ballpoint pen and a notepad of the miniature variety. With that, he flipped open to an empty page and held it there, not writing anything. Not yet, at least. "By the by, my name is Syekren of Sunagakure. I'm also known as the flame of Sunagakure, or the Inferno in the dust. You can just call me Syekren, if it pleases you. What can I call you? I assume just calling you 'kid'  or something to that effect would only serve to irritate and anger you." Syekren smiled a bit, showing a disarming nature to his antics, and not an overly hostile one. "Not to toot my own horn, but I also happen to be one of the Jounin here, and I often take on students to help them grow stronger and take them on missions so they can find their own niche here in the village or anywhere they plan to go. Should you need assistance going on any missions and training, I'll be happy to oblige you at any time!" He stopped there, waiting for the reaction to everything he'd said and any answers he could get out of the young man.

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Shujin would spin his own kunai as he checked out the mans tanto. It was of superior make and almost seemed to glow. Or was it actually glowing? It was such a superior tool and yet he supposed anyone based on just raw power could achieve as much. His own eyes would narrow as he took in the figure of the man before him. His own hand holding tightly to his kunai. If this man was a jounin after all he had no chance of getting close enough with that knife. Nor would it be effective if he did land a blow. Still he supposed there was some purpose to the mans words. A tool known for all its purpose but without use is wasted. Regardless of how much more care he gave to it he needed to actually find a use for it. In due time with that woman he was sure. However as much as he hated to admit it, his physical body could use some of its own training as well. His barriers were quick but not of much use if someone was right on top of him. Taijutsu users were tough enough to deal with when they were close to your physical capability.

Still he would glance down at the dirt and slide the tip of the blade into the bench next to him before cracking his knuckles. This was the second person within a week that had found him claiming to hold the power of a Kage. He had learned from the first not to take such a claim lightly. The last one had wrecked his barrier and temporarily himself with a single jutsu. Her chakra still felt like it was touching him at times. Still he made another claim he couldn't take lightly. The claim that he could kill everyone there. Why was it that was supposed to impress him? As if he didn't know the village was weak. As if he didn't feel disgusted by everyone around him. His own power would come in due time and this lot could stop talking down to him. The ability to be one of the villages top nin? As if he expected to remain loyal to the village. From the mans own mouth, He would grow strong for his own destiny. His own right to power and riches. He would follow the path that brought him to new heights regardless of the anchor the village was.

Still he would find his host introducing himself and he would glance up at him. The inferno eh? Another fire breather with too much fuel. Likely he was a lot more like that kid that ruined his bath. Roasting common thugs and feeling invincible. Of course he was beyond a match for a genin. Still Shujin would glance up at him. A small bit of hate in those eyes just looking at anyone else. Still his voice would speak in a cold tone. "Name is Shujin, I don't hold any impressive titles and the village gives no shits for orphans like me. If you ever visit the orphanage and see the state its in, we ain't worth the wood needed to fix the roof. Just another tool in the chest." He held his clan name to his chest since he didn't care for them. Still he would yank the kunai free and push it into a sheath on his belt. Standing up and walking to move passed Syekeren. Not getting beyond his shoulder when he spoke again. "Given time, I won't be just another village nin though. You too will see me differently then. When I stand on top of the corpse of anyone between me and there."

1947

Syekren watched the movements of the boy calmly, closing his eyes after the kunai was stuck in the bench the boy was sitting on. When the boy spoke, he mentioned that his name was Shijin, and that was he was an orphan that the village didn't care about. It was not something that Syekren could deny, as he'd been to the orphanage a few times before and knew exactly how things could be there. It wasn't something he was proud of, but he knew he couldn't have helped at the time he did stop by. With a heavy heart he listened to the monologue about the children being just tools while the kid yanked his kunai free and stood, moving past Syekren. He stopped at the jonin's shoulder and spoke again, saying he wouldn't be just another village ninja, that even Syekren would see him differently. When he stood on the corpse of anyone in his way of his destiny. Syekren smirked, his body twitching only slightly before it moved in a blur of sand and dust.

His body moved as he had trained it to, at a speed that one could only achieve through years of honing their bodies and their control. He stopped in front of the kid named Shujin and his hand raised, palm open. Katon chakra began to emanate from his palm and began to push into flames. The flames would form into a ball of flame, roughly the size of a baseball and the heat coming from it would give the two ninja quite an arid feeling between them. His eyes would open, staring into those of Shujin, different from before. This time they were crimson irises with three black tomoe spinning around his pupils. They stopped and they eyes glared into those of Shujin, as though they were staring into his very soul. After a moment, Syekren spoke. "Should you wish to stand upon the corpses of those in your way, be certain that you have the strength to kill those who would stop you. You may want to be different or powerful, but if you put in no effort to make such a thing happen, you'll end up another pile of ash. If you're lucky you'll only end up someone else's pawn, a tool they will inevitably throw away. They may promise you power, but if you don't grab it quickly enough and outclass them, you won't live to use it."

With that, the Uchiha clenched his fist and the flames disappeared, the chakra that was radiating from him still having a burning sensation about it. Without another word, he turned and walked away from Shujin, leaving him to his devices. The shinobi would leave the training field, deciding then to begin preparations to travel to Konoha for a bit of unfinished business. Maybe some day he would come back for this kid, show him how to obtain real power. Until then, he had his own life that he needed to finish getting in order.

[EXIT]

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Training:

Shujin would watch as suddenly the sand kicked up around them. His eyes taking in everything at once as they widened. There was a blur and suddenly his path was blocked. His eyes would take a second to shift up to realize what had happened. The man was beyond his abilities to perceive his speed. Even as he met the mans gaze he could see the sharingan of all things. Recognizable as it was world wide. Heat began to emanate from the man as the air around him seemed to almost bend like the hot air above black tar on a hot day. His outstretched palm was placed about head level with Shujin as flames began to appear and spin into a baseball sized orb. Shujin would look passed it into those eyes and swallow while hiding that fear. The man spoke of how he was going to need to be stronger. How if he wasn't going to put in the effort he was going to be just another pile of ash or a discarded tool. His words were cruel and to the point. Finishing where if he didn't reach out and grab power he wouldn't last long enough to use it.

With that said though the man closed his fist and dispersed the very flame he threatened Shujin with. Turning and walking away from him without a second thought. As if he didn't even seem bothered by turning his exposed back to someone as weak as Shujin. His fists would clench and his grip on the kunai would tighten audibly. Not just because the man thought as much but because he wasn't wrong. He was filled with rage now. This made two people he had met at that level. One claiming to be a hero and the other a god. Opposite ends of the spectrum. He glared after the man as he grit his teeth and restrained himself. He was no match for him so challenging his point was ill advised. He was angry but he was also intelligent. With a curse after the man faded from view he chucked the kunai at the target slamming it into the center of the face. He would grow stronger and show them all. Bring forth his name from the depths it was within. No longer some orphan they could push around. He would be known through out the world. With that thought itching at his mind he moved to collect his kunai and leave the arena as well. If he was going to gain that strength he had work to do. Standing around the fighting arena wouldn't do him any good.

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Exit thread
!0% increase clan drawback to stat
Endurance E-2 -> D-3