Home
1
Young Kuroka's Training Sat Dec 07, 2013 11:48 pm
Shindou
D-rank
Fuyuki was beyond frustrated.
He had once again, been unable to perform his clan's signature ninjutsu, the creation of weapons from his very chakra. It was simple, in theory. All one had to do was channel chakra to their hands and partially solidify it so they could properly mold it into the desired form, the form of which they were used to. It needed to be only partially solid so it wouldn't easily fall apart, as it would have should it have been pure chakra, nor would it be too hard for the user to mold. The partially solid chakra was something akin to... cast iron, if he wasn't mistaken. One could mold the heated metal into whatever shape they wanted, as long as they were familiar enough with it and comfortable enough, before solidifying it, similar to cooling the iron when the desired properties or shape was attained.
Why was this so hard for him? Every other technique that he had taken to, he had been able to absorb like a sponge. The art of kenjutsu, weaving through hand signs to perform complicated ninjutsu, the study of the various history of the five great nations, back to the reigns of the First Kages, reading through the First Shinobi War, then the Second and Third, and finally the grand changing Fourth Shinobi War which he could easily say took the cake. He could even memorise the scroll on ninja codes that his mother had once given him, able to keep everything to memory with just two glances at the piece of faded parchment. Of course, he had slowly let it go with time, instead finding more important things to focus on. An example was finding his purpose in life, which he had still yet to accomplish.
Damnit, why was his Kekkei Genkai coming so difficultly for him? When his mother had been alive and giving him active advice, actively pointing out his flaws in whatever stance he would make with his weapon. And it had actually been his very own weapon, the one he had fashioned out of his chakra, a nice long blade that, while blunt, was good enough for a beginner like him. Yet, with her death had gone that ability, rendering him unable to even perform the simplest molding of his chakra to fashion out his blade once more. He had first thought that the grievance of losing his only remaining parent had traumatised him too much to even think of using the abilities, but when he thought of them, he only felt a deep longing, not a raging sadness or anger in his heart for those who wronged him, and them. That meant he had already accepted their deaths, their losses, and he was ready to move on, so why had his ability not returned to him?
Was he doing something wrong? Was there something his mother had mentioned to him which he had easily forgotten? He believed he was doing everything right. He was searching deep within himself, finding the core where all his chakra resided, and also traced his chakra running through his pathways, focusing them at his palms and allowing them to slowly flow out in a steady stream, accumulating in his hands as they slowly solidified. Then, as he continued pouring chakra out, he would mold the already partially solid chakra into the form of his blade, before adding another push to actually summon it forth. Those had been his mother's words, and while she had helped him once or twice, it had ultimately been decided by her that he had gotten it down. Or so he thought.
Fuyuki had believed being in Suna would help. After all, their previous Kazekage had been a Kuroka, so there were bound to be some running around. Perhaps they would be willing to help? Then again, that hope was blurry at best. Their Kazekage, Gin Kuroka, also the believed executor of his father, had disappeared from the village. What happened afterwards was sketchy at best to a foreigner, but Fuyuki was sure that he would find no Kuroka willing to help him. It was a gut feeling. Besides, it was also unwise for a ninja within a village to just let their secrets to a possible enemy ninja, even if said ninja hailed from the same clan as them.
He let out a sigh, dropping onto the sandy ground beneath him. He had chosen this training ground because it was far away enough from the village that he would not be disturbed, yet it was also close enough that he could easily return if anything came up, or if the meeting between the Kazekage and Hokage had been sped up. All the training grounds looked the same, considering It was basically all sand surrounding the village of Suna. The only differences between the various training grounds were possibly the height of each dune and the number of dunes littering the grounds. Even the line that separated one training ground from the other was unclear to the young Kuroka.
“Ugh, damnit!” he cursed, looking up at the sky. “Why can't I get this right?!”
He flipped himself onto his feet, hands clapping once before being drawn backwards. He then pushed both open palms forwards, and a large gust of wind kicked up behind him, drawing up a small sandstorm and enveloping the area in a cloud of sand.
“Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!” he yelled.
The sandstorm kicked up around him. There was always a slight breeze in the Land of Wind, given that it was already in the name, but most of the sand was dense enough to not be picked up by the natural breeze. However, with Fuyuki's wind, the sand had been picked up easily, blowing about and obscuring the boy's sight only slightly before it dropped down onto the ground again.
Fuyuki wiped the sweat from his forehead, as well as the few grains of sand that stuck themselves to his face like second skin. He needed to find a trainer for his Kuroka Kekkei Genkai fast, and the only ones who could teach him were the Kuroka themselves. However, it was unlikely they would be compliant on doing so, as it was quite clear that anyone without the symbolic silver hair of the Kuroka were outcasts, not that Fuyuki knew of anyone else with such a condition apart from him.
He tried not to think about it. He was already embarrassed enough by the fact that he was unable to use his Kekkei Genkai, the one true aspect of him dictating his relation to the famed clan, during the training session he had with his team back in Konoha. He had almost been at the mercy of his team mate, Reag's, razor-sharp wires, before the Hokage and also his sensei had stepped in to stop the fight, claiming that he had seen enough of them to properly gauge their worth. Fuyuki was sure that if two seconds or three more had passed, he would have been forced to surrender all on his own. If only he had his blades, he could've lengthened those few seconds into a few minutes, and possibly even come out victorious by slicing up Reag's wires.
Fuyuki sighed. He lay back on the sand and let the wind brush against his face, while feeling the sun heat up his body. He was basically sun tanning in a desert, lying on top of a dune of sand. His blonde hair clung to his face, shiny with sweat, and his clothes were also drenched. It seemed he would have to cut his training short and hurriedly get changed. Who knows? He could be called to the meeting any time now, and it would not be good press for Konoha if one of their representing ninja were to show up to a meeting between Kages all stinky and wet. It would show that Konoha had no talent in training up their shinobi's discipline and respect. It would also make Mitsuhide-sensei's actions questionable, as he had taken Fuyuki in not only as a student, but also as a potential Konoha ninja.
With that thought in mind, the boy hurried back to the village of Suna, ignoring the fatigue that was creeping up to his body from the hours he had invested into the training. All that mattered was returning to the village and grooming himself in time for the meeting. To be late was unacceptable, no questions asked. He could rest later, after he was all showered and cleaned, but for now, it was off to Suna, and fast.
Word Count: 1451
Training [Silhouette Technique] 114 + 786 = 900/900
Training [Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu] 900/900
Training [Wind Style: Slash] 437/900
He had once again, been unable to perform his clan's signature ninjutsu, the creation of weapons from his very chakra. It was simple, in theory. All one had to do was channel chakra to their hands and partially solidify it so they could properly mold it into the desired form, the form of which they were used to. It needed to be only partially solid so it wouldn't easily fall apart, as it would have should it have been pure chakra, nor would it be too hard for the user to mold. The partially solid chakra was something akin to... cast iron, if he wasn't mistaken. One could mold the heated metal into whatever shape they wanted, as long as they were familiar enough with it and comfortable enough, before solidifying it, similar to cooling the iron when the desired properties or shape was attained.
Why was this so hard for him? Every other technique that he had taken to, he had been able to absorb like a sponge. The art of kenjutsu, weaving through hand signs to perform complicated ninjutsu, the study of the various history of the five great nations, back to the reigns of the First Kages, reading through the First Shinobi War, then the Second and Third, and finally the grand changing Fourth Shinobi War which he could easily say took the cake. He could even memorise the scroll on ninja codes that his mother had once given him, able to keep everything to memory with just two glances at the piece of faded parchment. Of course, he had slowly let it go with time, instead finding more important things to focus on. An example was finding his purpose in life, which he had still yet to accomplish.
Damnit, why was his Kekkei Genkai coming so difficultly for him? When his mother had been alive and giving him active advice, actively pointing out his flaws in whatever stance he would make with his weapon. And it had actually been his very own weapon, the one he had fashioned out of his chakra, a nice long blade that, while blunt, was good enough for a beginner like him. Yet, with her death had gone that ability, rendering him unable to even perform the simplest molding of his chakra to fashion out his blade once more. He had first thought that the grievance of losing his only remaining parent had traumatised him too much to even think of using the abilities, but when he thought of them, he only felt a deep longing, not a raging sadness or anger in his heart for those who wronged him, and them. That meant he had already accepted their deaths, their losses, and he was ready to move on, so why had his ability not returned to him?
Was he doing something wrong? Was there something his mother had mentioned to him which he had easily forgotten? He believed he was doing everything right. He was searching deep within himself, finding the core where all his chakra resided, and also traced his chakra running through his pathways, focusing them at his palms and allowing them to slowly flow out in a steady stream, accumulating in his hands as they slowly solidified. Then, as he continued pouring chakra out, he would mold the already partially solid chakra into the form of his blade, before adding another push to actually summon it forth. Those had been his mother's words, and while she had helped him once or twice, it had ultimately been decided by her that he had gotten it down. Or so he thought.
Fuyuki had believed being in Suna would help. After all, their previous Kazekage had been a Kuroka, so there were bound to be some running around. Perhaps they would be willing to help? Then again, that hope was blurry at best. Their Kazekage, Gin Kuroka, also the believed executor of his father, had disappeared from the village. What happened afterwards was sketchy at best to a foreigner, but Fuyuki was sure that he would find no Kuroka willing to help him. It was a gut feeling. Besides, it was also unwise for a ninja within a village to just let their secrets to a possible enemy ninja, even if said ninja hailed from the same clan as them.
He let out a sigh, dropping onto the sandy ground beneath him. He had chosen this training ground because it was far away enough from the village that he would not be disturbed, yet it was also close enough that he could easily return if anything came up, or if the meeting between the Kazekage and Hokage had been sped up. All the training grounds looked the same, considering It was basically all sand surrounding the village of Suna. The only differences between the various training grounds were possibly the height of each dune and the number of dunes littering the grounds. Even the line that separated one training ground from the other was unclear to the young Kuroka.
“Ugh, damnit!” he cursed, looking up at the sky. “Why can't I get this right?!”
He flipped himself onto his feet, hands clapping once before being drawn backwards. He then pushed both open palms forwards, and a large gust of wind kicked up behind him, drawing up a small sandstorm and enveloping the area in a cloud of sand.
“Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!” he yelled.
The sandstorm kicked up around him. There was always a slight breeze in the Land of Wind, given that it was already in the name, but most of the sand was dense enough to not be picked up by the natural breeze. However, with Fuyuki's wind, the sand had been picked up easily, blowing about and obscuring the boy's sight only slightly before it dropped down onto the ground again.
Fuyuki wiped the sweat from his forehead, as well as the few grains of sand that stuck themselves to his face like second skin. He needed to find a trainer for his Kuroka Kekkei Genkai fast, and the only ones who could teach him were the Kuroka themselves. However, it was unlikely they would be compliant on doing so, as it was quite clear that anyone without the symbolic silver hair of the Kuroka were outcasts, not that Fuyuki knew of anyone else with such a condition apart from him.
He tried not to think about it. He was already embarrassed enough by the fact that he was unable to use his Kekkei Genkai, the one true aspect of him dictating his relation to the famed clan, during the training session he had with his team back in Konoha. He had almost been at the mercy of his team mate, Reag's, razor-sharp wires, before the Hokage and also his sensei had stepped in to stop the fight, claiming that he had seen enough of them to properly gauge their worth. Fuyuki was sure that if two seconds or three more had passed, he would have been forced to surrender all on his own. If only he had his blades, he could've lengthened those few seconds into a few minutes, and possibly even come out victorious by slicing up Reag's wires.
Fuyuki sighed. He lay back on the sand and let the wind brush against his face, while feeling the sun heat up his body. He was basically sun tanning in a desert, lying on top of a dune of sand. His blonde hair clung to his face, shiny with sweat, and his clothes were also drenched. It seemed he would have to cut his training short and hurriedly get changed. Who knows? He could be called to the meeting any time now, and it would not be good press for Konoha if one of their representing ninja were to show up to a meeting between Kages all stinky and wet. It would show that Konoha had no talent in training up their shinobi's discipline and respect. It would also make Mitsuhide-sensei's actions questionable, as he had taken Fuyuki in not only as a student, but also as a potential Konoha ninja.
With that thought in mind, the boy hurried back to the village of Suna, ignoring the fatigue that was creeping up to his body from the hours he had invested into the training. All that mattered was returning to the village and grooming himself in time for the meeting. To be late was unacceptable, no questions asked. He could rest later, after he was all showered and cleaned, but for now, it was off to Suna, and fast.
Word Count: 1451
Training [Silhouette Technique] 114 + 786 = 900/900
Training [Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu] 900/900
Training [Wind Style: Slash] 437/900
Hokage: 
Kazekage: 
Raikage: 
Tsuchikage: 
Mizukage: 