1 Lodestar {Part Three: Last Wish} [Training | Private] Mon Apr 14, 2014 5:57 pm
Daraku
D-rank
Daraku had come to this moment. It was around 2:40 AM, clearly later than he had intended to stay awake, but there he was, sitting in his room. The window across from him gave him a pristine view of the night sky and the courtyard below, as he was used to. The rest of the Ishido stronghold was fast asleep by now, and the entire building was silent except for his own quiet breathing. The light in his room was off; he liked the dark, and the moonlight was enough of an illumination for him anyhow. Why was he awake? His mind was scattered, his body tense. He couldn't think straight, and as tired as he was, he didn't want to go to bed. The thoughts would only follow him there, manifest in his dreams, and leave him worse off. No, he didn't have any choice but to stay awake. So he continued breathing, tapping his foot in a steady rhythm on the wooden floor underneath him. He coughed a few times to clear his throat. This was anxiety, something he had never experienced before--well, something he'd never experienced until the day he killed his father. Since that day, it was all that plagued him. He found himself less confident, unsteady, crying to himself when no one was around. It was all he could do but compose himself and try not to have a panic attack. Why was this happening to him? He was never one to show emotion or affection, but he couldn't deny that he loved his father despite all the shit that the man had put him through. This was a result of guilt, a much more painful emotion than hatred or spite. Guilt ate away at him, made him wonder what really was going on. Did I make the right choice? Did he have to die? Am I a bad person for killing him? Why does everyone I love end up dead? He had no family left, and that hurt him more than he would ever admit.
Tears were streaming down Daraku's face now, each one reaching the lowest point of his rigid chin and falling to the table next to a scroll. His breathing rate was getting faster. He was almost choking with each breath. He finally stood from the desk and moved over to the wall. He leaned against it, his face on the hard surface, tears still streaming relentlessly. He pounded on the wall with his fist, over and over, until his hand bled, before collapsing to the ground in a heap. He could feel his heart pounding through his chest, the voices in his head. All those people telling him what he really was, since he was a kid. "You're a monster, a ruthless, murderous monster." "You're a damn Ishido. You'll never be anything more than a weapon." "Those Ishido men have bred another assassin bastard in their ranks." "They're all the same. They're barely even human." The voices shifted, changing from the voices of those judging him to those who he had failed. His mother was first. "You...you let me die. You let him kill me and you didn't even care!" Then his grandmother. "Tsurugi changed you, since the moment you were born. There was no hope for you, and there never will be. Killing me only reinforced that." and last but not least, his father. "Daraku...I gave you everything, taught you to be the perfect weapon. You never could do anything else right, your only true talent was killing...and you betray me like this?...I...I was the last one who loved you in this world. Who do you have now...?! Ha..hahahah! YOU'LL DIE ALONE, A WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!" At this point, the voices were screaming all at once and Daraku felt like he had a migraine. He squirmed to escape, tear himself out of his own skin. Blood trickled from the wound on his fast. His mouth curled in terror. "GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. His throat resisted, but he didn't stop screaming. He repeated it again and again until his voice was hoarse and he was trembling and weak.
The door burst open within seconds, and everything went silent again. The voices faded and he was forced back into reality as a familiar voice addressed him. "What the hell is going on?" Daraku's eyes moved until they met the figure in the doorway. It was Kiyoshi, and he looked very concerned. "I'm fine. I just was having a...uhm, a nightmare. Don't..." he tried to get to his feet, using his fist to push himself off the ground, but he staggered back and fell to the floor again. His hand was still bleeding, as there was a deep cut across the knuckle. "You don't look fine. And if you were having a nightmare, why is your bed completely made? You weren't in it, obviously. Tell me what's really going on." Daraku didn't respond. He shifted so that his back was to the wall and he leaned against it, examining his hand. He lifted his other hand and activated Kihon Kaishū-Hō to begin healing the cut. His trembling was starting to lessen. "I can't explain to you what the problem is. But I can honestly tell you that it's something I need to work out by myself. I appreciate that you came, but I'm starting to calm down. It's late, just go back to sleep." Kiyoshi examined him for a long time. Finally, he opened his mouth. "Fine. But if I hear you screaming again, I'm not going to leave you alone. You're important to this clan, to this village. You need to take care of yourself." Daraku only nodded, still staring at the cut. It was closed now, as his medical ninjutsu had nearly healed it entirely.
Kiyoshi left the room, closing the door behind him, and Daraku got to his feet. He moved over to the bed, and laid down without a word. His mind was far from steady, but he wasn't having a panic attack anymore, so he figured now would be the time to try and get some sleep. His head hit the pillow and his eyes met the ceiling. The quiet was peaceful, but one more whisper passed through his mind, Tsurugi's voice returning to him. He despised his father's voice at this point. It only gave him fear and pain, but it was the voice that he heard in his head the most. This time, it was different, though. It was Tsurugi's last wish: the last wish that he had given Daraku that gave Daraku a new purpose. "...That doesn't mean that my legacy, my hopes and my dreams all have to die with me. Promise me, Daraku, if I die here, once this battle is over...become a moth sage. Be the true leader of our people." The rest of the battle played out in Daraku's mind, from Tsurugi's raiton weapon to the lingering pain from his summon's jutsu on Daraku to the senbon hidden in the Phoenix Flower Jutsu. The blood from Tsurugi's wounds painting the sand a dark red. The last words Tsurugi choked out. "All I ask in my final moments is that you fulfill my dying wish, and I will be an eternally grateful man in whatever afterlife takes me..."
Daraku had forgotten these words. Tsurugi wasn't disappointed in him for doing what he did to make the clan prosper. All he asked was that Daraku be the man the he never could, and fulfill the legacy of a true Sennin. There was always hope. Tsurugi may have been a corrupt man, but Daraku still loved him. Daraku was just as corrupt, having been trained as an assassin by the man and conditioned to lust after bloodshed. Yet Daraku had killed his father in an act of questionably selfless love for his clan...and was left with the overbearing guilt of murdering a loved one. This was his way to redeem himself; if he could accomplish his father's dying wish and become a moth sage, he would have peace. It was his best shot at getting rid of the anxiety and the voices in his head, at the very least. He got out of bed once more, opening his door quietly and taking one of his swords in hand. He moved down the hall to where Tsurugi's chambers were. They had long since been abandoned; Daraku hadn't set foot in there since the day Tsurugi had died, and he had locked it up so none of the other clansmen could enter. He didn't bother to look for the key, and cut the chains with his sword in one swipe. The massive lock fell to the ground as the chain links broke. He pushed the door open with his opposite hand as he put the sword around his back using its sash.
The air was dry and dusty, having been left for months without entrance. Daraku shut the door behind him, careful not to make much noise. Each step further into the chambers he got, the more uncomfortable he felt. A cool breeze passed from the slightly open window nearby; Daraku shut it tight as he continued looking. He had come into the chambers for one sole purpose, and that was to find the scroll he needed. He spotted a small portion of the wall that was lined with various scrolls, but one stuck out to him the most. It was a pitch black scroll with white trim. He reached for it and opened it up gingerly, viewing its contents in full. There was a massive seal within, written in silver ink that stood out against the black paper. The kanji within the seal read "蛾" (Ga ~ Moth). He felt power radiating from the paper between his fingers as he looked at the seal, examining all the intricate designs surrounding the kanji. Finally, he closed the scroll and took it with him as he left the chambers, not bothering to lock the doors again. There was no reason to; no one in the clan would bother going in there. They were all under the notion that the area was haunted by Tsurugi's ghost or something.
Daraku got back to his room with scroll in hand and removed his sword, leaving it next to the door. He closed the door behind him and laid the scroll out on the desk. He didn't know any sort of Kuchiyose that could help him summon the moths, but he didn't fret. One thing he did know about the summoning jutsu was that it required a blood contract, and that was soemthing he certainly had. He examined his now-healed hand, which still had traces of blood near the knuckle. He stamped the blood in the center of the scroll and waited for a response. After a few minutes without anything, he made his way back to his bed. It was near 4:00 AM, and he needed sleep. He resolved to finish the job in the morning, and let himself fall asleep.
Weightless. Daraku was no longer bound by gravity. He could tell from the get-go that this had to be a dream, but it felt real. He around and saw nothing more than darkness. This place was devoid of light, yet he could see clearly. Rather, see himself clearly. His figure was illuminated but around him was black, darker than a midnight sky without stars. He heard a voice calling to him. "Tsurugi's son. It's good to finally meet you. I'm not the first of us to see you, others have seen you in battle against Tsurugi when you killed him. From what they tell me, you're a man to be respected for your combat prowess. But personally, I'm not one to commend humans...all humans tend to be the same. Sad beings that seek purpose in their irrelevant lives. They spend their whole life trying to be something and end up wasting the life they had, and on their deathbed, they are left with regrets and guilt. I'm not saying I'm superior to humans, but...well, I am." Daraku couldn't see the thing speaking, but the voice was close. He could hear every word as if they were right next to each other. "You basically just described me. I'm a guilty guy and all I do is seek purpose. Ishido, Daraku. It's a pleasure." He took a step forward, but felt a chill go down his spine that stopped him from proceeding farther. Whatever was talking to him...was right behind him. "What a shame. But trust me, I'm here to help you. You did call for us, after all." A drop of sweat fell from Daraku's brow. He knew what this was now.
"Show yourself. It's common courtesy to be face to face when you're speaking with someone." he said, almost mockingly. He was careful with his tone, though, in case the moth decided to be a little less welcoming. "Very well." The darkness began to shift, shades of gray intertwining with the black. The sound of flapping wings was abundant, growing louder and louder with every passing second. Daraku closed his eyes and covered his face with his arm as he felt thousands of moths swarming around him and flying in all directions. Finally, the dark faded and the smaller moths were gone, and all that was left in front of him was a massive moth, at least ten times his size. Its wings were spread and its eyes were made of thousands of smaller, black eyes with a silver tint to them. Its appearance was somewhat horrifying, but also magnificent. Daraku could see now that he was standing in soft dirt, but he still felt weightless. The sky around him was darker than usual but still visible, and the moon shown overhead. Behind the moth was a decrepit, crumbling wall covered in long-abandoned cocoons and kanji that read "夕闇蛾仙人" across it. The moth continued speaking, although its mouth didn't move as it talked. "I am Shōta, but the few humans that know me refer to me as Yūyamiga Sennin, or the Dusk Moth Sage." Daraku kept a solemn expression. "Now that introductions are over, I have one request; teach me the ways of a Sage. I wish to learn Senjutsu."
The moth's antennae twitched upon hearing those words. "Oh, I see. You kill your father and then expect us to help you learn Senjutsu? You're a depraved and selfish man, Daraku. What makes you think that we'll help you when you killed one of our allies?" Daraku clenched his fist. He wouldn't be denied, not now. "Tsurugi was my father, and as hard as it was, I needed to kill him. It was the only way to save our clan; he wasn't mentally healthy. Now, neither am I, and I may not be the most moral person around, but at least I am steering my people in the right direction. It was my father's dying wish that I learn Senjutsu and accomplish what he couldn't. If you're not willing to fulfill that wish and train me to be a sage, then how can you consider yourself his ally? He would scorn you for it." The moth's compound eyes seemed focused on Daraku and its antennae stopped for a moment. "Really now? This is interesting. The least I can say is that you've got passion, for a pathetic human. Tsurugi had that same passion; you're both weak men looking for purpose like the rest of the human race, but passion shows that you are capable of being something more. It's a sign of potential." A moth landed on Daraku, seemingly out of no-where. It was small and white, and its eyes stared intently into his. "Go, take Jun with you. She will greet you in the morning and take you where you need to go so that I may summon you." Daraku nodded. "Thank you for giving me a chance." he said, gratefully. The moth named Jun crawled up his face, speaking as she went. "Welcome to the group, Daraku. Hopefully you'll be as good as Tsurugi was; if you honestly think you can master Senjutsu, I'm sure you'll be even better." Before Daraku could say anything in reply, she scurried into his mouth, crawling down his throat. He choked and began coughing to get her out but it was too late and she was inside of him. He looked back to Shōta. "Ugh, was that necessary?" Shōta merely nodded before spreading its wings further and taking off. He flew towards the moon, fading from view as he went. "You'll be waking up any moment now, Daraku. You'll know what to do when you do."
Daraku woke up coughing violently. He clawed at his throat, gasping for air between coughs, until finally a moth escaped from his mouth. It fell to his bed, flopped a bit, and fluttered into the air. Now in front of him, he recognized it as the moth from his dream, Jun. She landed for a moment, and her voice sounded of sweet chimes and squeaks. "C'mon, Daraku-san. We've got no time to waste. Shōta wants you at Kokugatsu Island as soon as possible, but he can't summon you there until we go to a specific place that I'm supposed to take you to." Daraku blinked a few times in disbelief, surprised that all of this was even happening. "Alright, give me a moment to shower and get dressed and equip all my weapons, and then we'll go. I'll be quick, I promise." He got out of bed, careful not to squish the little white moth, and made his way to the shower.
Tears were streaming down Daraku's face now, each one reaching the lowest point of his rigid chin and falling to the table next to a scroll. His breathing rate was getting faster. He was almost choking with each breath. He finally stood from the desk and moved over to the wall. He leaned against it, his face on the hard surface, tears still streaming relentlessly. He pounded on the wall with his fist, over and over, until his hand bled, before collapsing to the ground in a heap. He could feel his heart pounding through his chest, the voices in his head. All those people telling him what he really was, since he was a kid. "You're a monster, a ruthless, murderous monster." "You're a damn Ishido. You'll never be anything more than a weapon." "Those Ishido men have bred another assassin bastard in their ranks." "They're all the same. They're barely even human." The voices shifted, changing from the voices of those judging him to those who he had failed. His mother was first. "You...you let me die. You let him kill me and you didn't even care!" Then his grandmother. "Tsurugi changed you, since the moment you were born. There was no hope for you, and there never will be. Killing me only reinforced that." and last but not least, his father. "Daraku...I gave you everything, taught you to be the perfect weapon. You never could do anything else right, your only true talent was killing...and you betray me like this?...I...I was the last one who loved you in this world. Who do you have now...?! Ha..hahahah! YOU'LL DIE ALONE, A WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!" At this point, the voices were screaming all at once and Daraku felt like he had a migraine. He squirmed to escape, tear himself out of his own skin. Blood trickled from the wound on his fast. His mouth curled in terror. "GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. His throat resisted, but he didn't stop screaming. He repeated it again and again until his voice was hoarse and he was trembling and weak.
The door burst open within seconds, and everything went silent again. The voices faded and he was forced back into reality as a familiar voice addressed him. "What the hell is going on?" Daraku's eyes moved until they met the figure in the doorway. It was Kiyoshi, and he looked very concerned. "I'm fine. I just was having a...uhm, a nightmare. Don't..." he tried to get to his feet, using his fist to push himself off the ground, but he staggered back and fell to the floor again. His hand was still bleeding, as there was a deep cut across the knuckle. "You don't look fine. And if you were having a nightmare, why is your bed completely made? You weren't in it, obviously. Tell me what's really going on." Daraku didn't respond. He shifted so that his back was to the wall and he leaned against it, examining his hand. He lifted his other hand and activated Kihon Kaishū-Hō to begin healing the cut. His trembling was starting to lessen. "I can't explain to you what the problem is. But I can honestly tell you that it's something I need to work out by myself. I appreciate that you came, but I'm starting to calm down. It's late, just go back to sleep." Kiyoshi examined him for a long time. Finally, he opened his mouth. "Fine. But if I hear you screaming again, I'm not going to leave you alone. You're important to this clan, to this village. You need to take care of yourself." Daraku only nodded, still staring at the cut. It was closed now, as his medical ninjutsu had nearly healed it entirely.
Kiyoshi left the room, closing the door behind him, and Daraku got to his feet. He moved over to the bed, and laid down without a word. His mind was far from steady, but he wasn't having a panic attack anymore, so he figured now would be the time to try and get some sleep. His head hit the pillow and his eyes met the ceiling. The quiet was peaceful, but one more whisper passed through his mind, Tsurugi's voice returning to him. He despised his father's voice at this point. It only gave him fear and pain, but it was the voice that he heard in his head the most. This time, it was different, though. It was Tsurugi's last wish: the last wish that he had given Daraku that gave Daraku a new purpose. "...That doesn't mean that my legacy, my hopes and my dreams all have to die with me. Promise me, Daraku, if I die here, once this battle is over...become a moth sage. Be the true leader of our people." The rest of the battle played out in Daraku's mind, from Tsurugi's raiton weapon to the lingering pain from his summon's jutsu on Daraku to the senbon hidden in the Phoenix Flower Jutsu. The blood from Tsurugi's wounds painting the sand a dark red. The last words Tsurugi choked out. "All I ask in my final moments is that you fulfill my dying wish, and I will be an eternally grateful man in whatever afterlife takes me..."
Daraku had forgotten these words. Tsurugi wasn't disappointed in him for doing what he did to make the clan prosper. All he asked was that Daraku be the man the he never could, and fulfill the legacy of a true Sennin. There was always hope. Tsurugi may have been a corrupt man, but Daraku still loved him. Daraku was just as corrupt, having been trained as an assassin by the man and conditioned to lust after bloodshed. Yet Daraku had killed his father in an act of questionably selfless love for his clan...and was left with the overbearing guilt of murdering a loved one. This was his way to redeem himself; if he could accomplish his father's dying wish and become a moth sage, he would have peace. It was his best shot at getting rid of the anxiety and the voices in his head, at the very least. He got out of bed once more, opening his door quietly and taking one of his swords in hand. He moved down the hall to where Tsurugi's chambers were. They had long since been abandoned; Daraku hadn't set foot in there since the day Tsurugi had died, and he had locked it up so none of the other clansmen could enter. He didn't bother to look for the key, and cut the chains with his sword in one swipe. The massive lock fell to the ground as the chain links broke. He pushed the door open with his opposite hand as he put the sword around his back using its sash.
The air was dry and dusty, having been left for months without entrance. Daraku shut the door behind him, careful not to make much noise. Each step further into the chambers he got, the more uncomfortable he felt. A cool breeze passed from the slightly open window nearby; Daraku shut it tight as he continued looking. He had come into the chambers for one sole purpose, and that was to find the scroll he needed. He spotted a small portion of the wall that was lined with various scrolls, but one stuck out to him the most. It was a pitch black scroll with white trim. He reached for it and opened it up gingerly, viewing its contents in full. There was a massive seal within, written in silver ink that stood out against the black paper. The kanji within the seal read "蛾" (Ga ~ Moth). He felt power radiating from the paper between his fingers as he looked at the seal, examining all the intricate designs surrounding the kanji. Finally, he closed the scroll and took it with him as he left the chambers, not bothering to lock the doors again. There was no reason to; no one in the clan would bother going in there. They were all under the notion that the area was haunted by Tsurugi's ghost or something.
Daraku got back to his room with scroll in hand and removed his sword, leaving it next to the door. He closed the door behind him and laid the scroll out on the desk. He didn't know any sort of Kuchiyose that could help him summon the moths, but he didn't fret. One thing he did know about the summoning jutsu was that it required a blood contract, and that was soemthing he certainly had. He examined his now-healed hand, which still had traces of blood near the knuckle. He stamped the blood in the center of the scroll and waited for a response. After a few minutes without anything, he made his way back to his bed. It was near 4:00 AM, and he needed sleep. He resolved to finish the job in the morning, and let himself fall asleep.
~*~*~*~
Weightless. Daraku was no longer bound by gravity. He could tell from the get-go that this had to be a dream, but it felt real. He around and saw nothing more than darkness. This place was devoid of light, yet he could see clearly. Rather, see himself clearly. His figure was illuminated but around him was black, darker than a midnight sky without stars. He heard a voice calling to him. "Tsurugi's son. It's good to finally meet you. I'm not the first of us to see you, others have seen you in battle against Tsurugi when you killed him. From what they tell me, you're a man to be respected for your combat prowess. But personally, I'm not one to commend humans...all humans tend to be the same. Sad beings that seek purpose in their irrelevant lives. They spend their whole life trying to be something and end up wasting the life they had, and on their deathbed, they are left with regrets and guilt. I'm not saying I'm superior to humans, but...well, I am." Daraku couldn't see the thing speaking, but the voice was close. He could hear every word as if they were right next to each other. "You basically just described me. I'm a guilty guy and all I do is seek purpose. Ishido, Daraku. It's a pleasure." He took a step forward, but felt a chill go down his spine that stopped him from proceeding farther. Whatever was talking to him...was right behind him. "What a shame. But trust me, I'm here to help you. You did call for us, after all." A drop of sweat fell from Daraku's brow. He knew what this was now.
"Show yourself. It's common courtesy to be face to face when you're speaking with someone." he said, almost mockingly. He was careful with his tone, though, in case the moth decided to be a little less welcoming. "Very well." The darkness began to shift, shades of gray intertwining with the black. The sound of flapping wings was abundant, growing louder and louder with every passing second. Daraku closed his eyes and covered his face with his arm as he felt thousands of moths swarming around him and flying in all directions. Finally, the dark faded and the smaller moths were gone, and all that was left in front of him was a massive moth, at least ten times his size. Its wings were spread and its eyes were made of thousands of smaller, black eyes with a silver tint to them. Its appearance was somewhat horrifying, but also magnificent. Daraku could see now that he was standing in soft dirt, but he still felt weightless. The sky around him was darker than usual but still visible, and the moon shown overhead. Behind the moth was a decrepit, crumbling wall covered in long-abandoned cocoons and kanji that read "夕闇蛾仙人" across it. The moth continued speaking, although its mouth didn't move as it talked. "I am Shōta, but the few humans that know me refer to me as Yūyamiga Sennin, or the Dusk Moth Sage." Daraku kept a solemn expression. "Now that introductions are over, I have one request; teach me the ways of a Sage. I wish to learn Senjutsu."
The moth's antennae twitched upon hearing those words. "Oh, I see. You kill your father and then expect us to help you learn Senjutsu? You're a depraved and selfish man, Daraku. What makes you think that we'll help you when you killed one of our allies?" Daraku clenched his fist. He wouldn't be denied, not now. "Tsurugi was my father, and as hard as it was, I needed to kill him. It was the only way to save our clan; he wasn't mentally healthy. Now, neither am I, and I may not be the most moral person around, but at least I am steering my people in the right direction. It was my father's dying wish that I learn Senjutsu and accomplish what he couldn't. If you're not willing to fulfill that wish and train me to be a sage, then how can you consider yourself his ally? He would scorn you for it." The moth's compound eyes seemed focused on Daraku and its antennae stopped for a moment. "Really now? This is interesting. The least I can say is that you've got passion, for a pathetic human. Tsurugi had that same passion; you're both weak men looking for purpose like the rest of the human race, but passion shows that you are capable of being something more. It's a sign of potential." A moth landed on Daraku, seemingly out of no-where. It was small and white, and its eyes stared intently into his. "Go, take Jun with you. She will greet you in the morning and take you where you need to go so that I may summon you." Daraku nodded. "Thank you for giving me a chance." he said, gratefully. The moth named Jun crawled up his face, speaking as she went. "Welcome to the group, Daraku. Hopefully you'll be as good as Tsurugi was; if you honestly think you can master Senjutsu, I'm sure you'll be even better." Before Daraku could say anything in reply, she scurried into his mouth, crawling down his throat. He choked and began coughing to get her out but it was too late and she was inside of him. He looked back to Shōta. "Ugh, was that necessary?" Shōta merely nodded before spreading its wings further and taking off. He flew towards the moon, fading from view as he went. "You'll be waking up any moment now, Daraku. You'll know what to do when you do."
~*~*~*~
Daraku woke up coughing violently. He clawed at his throat, gasping for air between coughs, until finally a moth escaped from his mouth. It fell to his bed, flopped a bit, and fluttered into the air. Now in front of him, he recognized it as the moth from his dream, Jun. She landed for a moment, and her voice sounded of sweet chimes and squeaks. "C'mon, Daraku-san. We've got no time to waste. Shōta wants you at Kokugatsu Island as soon as possible, but he can't summon you there until we go to a specific place that I'm supposed to take you to." Daraku blinked a few times in disbelief, surprised that all of this was even happening. "Alright, give me a moment to shower and get dressed and equip all my weapons, and then we'll go. I'll be quick, I promise." He got out of bed, careful not to squish the little white moth, and made his way to the shower.
- Training:
- Learning Senjutsu
Word Count: 3,064/5,000
- 310/325:
- Name: Basic Recovery Method (基本回収法 ~ Kihon Kaishū-Hō)
Canon/Custom: Custom
Rank: C
Type: Supplementary
Element: N/A
Range: Contact
Specialty: Medical Ninjutsu
Duration: Maintainable (-5 chakra per post)
Cooldown: 6 posts
Description: Basic Recovery Method is an advanced form of the "hovering hands" healing technique. To perform this maintainable healing technique, the user simply hovers their hands half an inch above the target area, with one hand resting directly on top of the other. Chakra will envelop their hands, causing them to glow a color that varies from user to user. This technique effects the flesh directly under the palm of the caster's hand. Each post this move is maintained, it will heal two and a half inches of torn, shredded or severed muscle tissue, bruising and first and second degree burns. third degree burns will take two posts per inch. This cannot heal deeper than three and a half inches, and cannot repair arterial or nerve damage. Cooldown begins once the technique is deactivated.