The stroke of a paintbrush delicately placed soft splashes of various colored clouds on a canvas. There laid tall blades of grass, wild flowers and strong trees whose leaves changed the closer they came to the sky. The canvas captured the field and sky through the eyes of a young kunoichi. She saw not only a landscape but the very essence of life as it moved and blended together in its pure and broad spectrum of color. With a few strokes more she completed the painting. Trickles of satisfaction warmed her heart. The paintbrush in hand came up and brushed her cheek marking it with blue and green paint as she contemplated her work. The cool wetness didn’t phase her, she was too lost in thought observing her work. It was a full canvas, a square yard in size, complete with pristine details capturing every blade of grass, impurities of the pettles and the roughness of the trees- but the focus... she felt it was lost. Something was missing, what was it?

She set the wet brush into a small loop of leather attached to a thin wood tray to her left. Many paints staind its wood and laid piled in thick splotches ready for the next project. With it was a wood box roughly carved with the bark still on, about the size of the average bento box, a granit suribachi bowl and a wooden surikogi rod covered in a mess of mashed, purple fruits and flower petals sat near this, as well as her blue standard sandals that were splattered with paint. All of this sat settled on a long wood board hung from a high branch by two ropes. She herself had bits of paint all over her arms, shoulders and bits across her precious leather bracelet with the ten colored stones in the variety of colors that smelled of the sweet nectar they had been made of.

A warm breeze blew through the field picking up the wildflower petals of the field so they could dance in the air. The zephyr picked up the musk scent of the earth, mixing it delightfully with the sweet paints of her canvas.. Meiyo reached up, or rather down, and pulled the hair stick from her hair. Long, rainbow locks flowed towards the ground like waves on the wind. Leaning forward, she eyed her canvas closely. Her thin brows furrowed in frustration. There was something missing, just what could it be? What did it need? It was boggling her mind. She flexed her calves and pointed her toes, making herself swing as she hung upside down from a tree branch. Giggling from the thrill and the roughness of the bark against her skin, she poked the canvas that too hung from another branch ahead of her, it swung with her.

Back and forth she swung like the young girl she once was supposed to be, if life hadn’t altered the path. She stretched her arms towards the ground and let them relax and just hang. She was on a low hanging branch of a lone tree in the middle of the field, a low enough branch she could feel the tall blades of grass tickle her fingers. Her shirt loosed and hung, exposing a bit of her scarred back and stomach. Long strands of rainbow hair played with the flowers that grew twisted amongst the tree roots. Most days she was running about exhausting herself, but today, today was a brilliant day to express oneself through art.

A bright, content smile stretched her lips, though there was still this unshakable feeling that something was missing. She stared hard at her canvas. What could it be that this needed? She had all the elements, the trees, the leaves, the grass, the petals, the rainbow clouds, what else? For a moment it was beyond her, and rather irritating. She licked her lips and folded her arms across her chest.

Then suddenly.

With surprise, she blinked and her gold eyes twinkled. Excitement bubbled behind her chest. There was the black shape of a head and body all but missing the feet. The shape, the size, it was perfect. Absolutely perfect! She reached up slowly and grabbed her paintbrush from the leather strap, dipping it carefully in the black paint. ‘This is it, this is what it needs!’ She thought delightfully. Just as she looked up though, the shadow moved.

Meiyo gasped, “Wait!” She threw up her hands and turned quickly behind herself. The early morning sun was bright off the horizon and all but blinded her from seeing the savior of her piece. “Wait, don’t move, you’re perfect! Please stay put, frozen, for, well,” she bit her lip looking between the person and her canvas. Lost in the bliss of a muse, she was frankly without a sense of time. Quickly she held up two fingers with her free hand, fumbling to come up with some amount. “T-two minutes, two minutes, stay still as a statue! It’ll be worth it, promise!” She turned back to her canvas and quickly started marking the shadow best she could, desperately hoping her model would stay.

[WC 867]

Freshly cut blades of grass flew across an open field carried by a gentle breeze. Again and again, and again, the faint sounds of a blade dancing in the air would whip throughout the area. In the field of grass was a place which easily stood out from the rest. The field was laid with a bed of six foot tall grass, except for a particular area which saw the grass cut down to about a hips’ length. Like a raging fire, the area spread throughout the field with overwhelming speed. Cutting down the tall grass was fire, itself, made flesh. A red silhouette danced through the field with precise and graceful movement, every stroke of the blade resulted in bundles of grass being swept by the coming winds, replacing the gore which usually came with the blade. The red swordsman was efficient, wasting not a single movement;  it was a captivating sight to behold for any who followed the art of kenjutsu. Within minutes, the once towering field of grass had been trimmed down to a more visually pleasing sight. Long before the sun gave its first light, Akashi Hibana had been working to trim untamed grasslands that had begun to serve as residence for wild animal. Usually, the young Hibana would have been unenthusiastic with the thought of accomplishing another mission that was simply glorified housework, but the chore given to him was perfect for what the red haired shinobi sought out.

With the recent event of his arrival in Konohagakure no sato, majority of Akashi’s time had been spent on acclimating himself to the system of shinobi within the village. It felt like a century had passed since the Hibana had been left to his own devices. Luckily, his recent mission assignment was one that offered him a great, albeit, brief relaxation. While it would seem like simple manual labor for the eyes of many, there was nothing else in the world that offered the Hibana more joy than the opportunity to hone his skills with his blade.

The shining silver edge of his blade faded into the red wooden scabbard; The Hibana glistened with beads of sweat pouring down his body. His stomach growled in hunger, as if seeking a reward for the tremendous work that he had put up, whilst those who assigned him his mission slumbered in their warm beds. Long had it been since the sun had risen and blessed the village with its light. Hours had passed without the shinobi even realizing a minute gone by. Truly, he was enthralled by the work of art that was the way of the sword. To the child raised with the sole intent of becoming his family’s most famed combatant, art was the blood splattered across a room after a clean stroke of the sword, not some scribble of coloured water to be sold at an exorbitant price.

The young shinobi returned to a far away trunk of a tall oak tree; alongside its roots lay a small bento box, wrapped in a pure white cloth. The aroma of pork and egg burst forth from now opened lunch box. Having been preheated with his red hot chakra, a visible line of steam streamed from the rice. There was no other word better suited for the morning than ‘perfect’. It was a morning spent practicing his form with a sword, followed by a breakfast meal with the shinobi’s favourite dish of katsudon. Though the morning was indeed perfect, a small tinge of sadness pierced him after finishing his meal. The next day he would be back to his usual busy schedule. Akashi had no problem working day and night to develop his ninjutsu or his skills with a blade, but being peppered by glorified housework was simply too much for him. Cutting grass and cleaning floors were for maids. He wanted a real mission, one that would truly test the abilities honed through years of brutal training. Regardless… he had a whole unscheduled day ahead of him before tomorrow would come, and he wasn't quite sure what to spend it on. This had been the first true day off he had received since arriving to Konoha from the villa of the country’s fire daimyo.

With his breakfast eaten and his mission finished, the shinobi rose from his seat, and dusted off the remains of grass that stuck to his hakama. He thought of going home and taking a warm bath, but was halted before even taking his first step. Facing the rays of the bright yellow sun a small, rainbow haired, child pleaded for the Hibana to stay put. The mild confusion of the red haired shinobi dissipated as he better analyzed the situation. The child held a paint brush in one hand and two fingers up with another. In front of her was a canvas that eluded Akashi’s sights. Clearly, he had become a piece in the little girl’s artwork. With a little sigh of pleasure, the Hibana nodded as he plopped back down to his seat of grass. “Sure, but may I at least take a seat?” With his words said, Akashi sat still with his empty box of food beside him, for as long as the child needed in order for her to finish her painting.

890

Meiyo glanced back at the voice, male she found. He’d requested to sit, she looked back at her painting. She’d already finished half the outline of the top half of his body, the shadow had shifted and now looked as if it were sitting in the field rather than posed. She pursed her lips and tipped her head. “Yes. It’s almost more natural.” She hummed. Setting to work she lined the shadow and then filled it, but not only with black, but with purples and speckles of yellow, creating almost a starry sky appeal to the shadow body. To her it was the right abstract approach as it was the complete opposite from the blended colors surrounding the shadow body. While she worked quickly, keeping to her two minute promise, she wanted to get to know her current muse. “I’m Meiyo, by the way. What’s your name? What do you like to do for fun?” she asked as the final stroke completed the starry sky and shadow body. It was posed, just as he was, outlining everything in smooth detail. She smiled at her work as it swung on the breeze.

Meiyo settled her paintbrush in its leather loop. She stretched her arms towards the ground and settled on her palms, very carefully straightening her legs and walking on her hands sideways until she was clear of the painting. Once she was, she tucked and rolled back to her feet. Though she’d rolled in low lying wildflowers, picking up the petals and leaves in her long hair. Nothing out of the normal for her. She walked to behind the painting and up to the branch it was hung from. The ropes were tied to a small lip of wood on the back and knotted at the branch itself. She untied the rope from the branch and lowered the painting to hang in her hands. “As promised, here’s your prize. It’ll be fully dried in like a day or two, so be careful.” She held out the painting to him by the rope smiling brightly with gold eyes catching the sun rays. From this angle she was more able to actually see him. He seemed older than her, but only just. Strong, brave - for sitting for his portrait at least, and a redhead. “So, what are you doing out here, anyway? The grounds are actually often more secluded at this hour.” She asked, though she was very happy to have a friend in these parts. She’d been exhausting herself with training and slacking in her social avenues. Half an oddity for her. “Oh, I know, are you training?” A glimmer of excitement flickered in her eyes. Training was almost the whole of her existence.

While she awaited a response, she moved and reached into the tree to grab down her supplies. Untying the rope, she balanced the board like a tray and brought it to settle on the ground. Boy, she’d made a mess of things today. She picked up her shoes to put on, but they’d been dressed in enough paint to make her toes rainbow. So instead she set them aside and worked on pouring her bowl of mashed herbs against the tree. Nutrition for the tree, cleanliness for the girl - well sort of. Everything would be wet with paint till she got home or to a lake. Her mistake for not bringing a rag or water. Oh well. She was curious of this boy, as she was almost everyone.

[WC 581/1448]

A bead of sweat ran down the Hibana’s face, as he did his best to remain perfectly still for the rainbow haired child who continued to paint the image of Akashi in her canvas. Even with the cool blowing breeze of wind and shade given by the leaves of the tall oak tree, the heat given to him by his just recent string of physical activities kept his body temperature hot. Akashi sought to cool himself down with the short and serene moment temporarily given by his current situation. He closed his eyes, hiding away the ember like golden pupils he possessed. In an attempt to calm his body down, he took long deep breaths,  slowing down the pulse of his heart. For but a brief moment the red haired shinobi looked peaceful in his makeshift meditation. The Hibana opened his eyes to the sound of the little girl introducing herself and asking Akashi about his hobbies. Unable to face the girl directly with his promise of remaining still, he instead peeked with the corner of his golden eyes to look at her as he, respectfully, introduced himself. “It is nice to meet you Meiyo, I am Akashi of the Hibana clan.” While introducing himself as  a member of the Hibana clan, Akashi intentionally left out his heritage and his noble status. “As for what I enjoy doing? Well...” The shinobi tapped the sheathed blade, strapped at his waist giving attention to the red scabbard. “I am a practitioner of Kenjutsu. What about you, Meiyo? What are your hobbies aside from painting?” He asked, returning her question.

From the circus like movements he was able to see from the corners of his eyes, the young girl had managed to grab the red haired shinobi’s attention. “Are you a shinobi Meiyo?” he asked. Because of her young age and non introduction of her clan, he saw her as a normal child. Akashi was aware of the young age of academy graduates, but this had been the first time that he had met someone he believed much too young to be a shinobi.

From little girl’s actions, the painting looked to be finished. Akashi stood up from his seat. He walked over to the child, intentionally leaving his empty box of food. He wanted to get a look at the painting. Despite a lack of understanding for artistic works, the Hibana was unable to deny his curiosity. It wasn’t everyday that one met a conventional artist and played a part in their artwork. Finally he was able to lay his eyes on the canvas, as she held the painting out to him. The Hibana’s lack of understanding of art showed; he had no clue whether the painting was good or bad, he only saw liquid colours on a canvas. With a straight and convincing smile he complimented the painting “It looks very well made.” His usual straightforward self faded in the presence of the child. He had a soft spot for children, they reminded him of how he once was… or was supposed to be had Hibana Masaomi not robbed his childhood away from him.

Unable to speak of the painting further than his compliments, the Hibana moved on to answer more of her questions. “You guessed correctly. I had just completed a mission that allowed me to simultaneously train, though calling it a mission feels wrong. I was simply cutting the outgrown fields of grass.”

579 | 1469

Meiyo smiled and tipped her head at him, he was an interesting fellow to say for short. Though the Hibana clan sounded familiar, she felt like she should know what that is. Or of, really. Something of importance or what not. But one is never read by the cover, or clan in this instance. she thought to herself. "Hibana, Akashi? Well, that's a nice name. Has a fun ring to it. A-ka-shi," she hummed swaying a finger in the air as if conducting a small serenade. She giggled lightly. "Your last name sounds so familiar for some reason or another. Would that mean you have a clan, right? I don't have one, but I'm always curious how others live. What's it like having a clan? As for me, aside from painting, just training all day, all night, every chance I get. I'm a shinobi of this village, headband and-" She pointed up to her head but after patting it realised it wasn't there."Oh right, whoops," she turned towards the small wooden box and popped it's lid open. Inside was a stained color cloth, a thin wood divider that separated a variety of berries and flower petals. Their sweet scent wafted in the air. "And you are too! That's great! There, that's better." she spoke as she pulled her Leaf headband from the handkerchief. She pulled it up and tied it to her head on top, behind her long bangs.

"So a mission huh? Hey," she smiled. So he was for sure a Shinobi as well. "Good for you, serving the village is an honor in of itself, no matter how small of a job. Even cutting grass. You've got to keep an eye on the big picture." She outstretched her hands making a box in the air. Peeking with one eye closed, she captured the valley between them. "What if you didn't cut that grass, what if wild animals, dangerous ones made their home there? Or what if it caught fire?" She grimaced at the thought. Flames flickering in the shadows that welled inside her mind. "No," She shook her head, lowering her arms. "Small mission, big impact."

She walked up to him to get a closer look at who she was dealing with. "So, kenjutsu? Cute! Or-" She cleared her throat. "Cool, better word? What brought you to the sword? I'm a fist and guts kind of girl, but weapons are neat." She teased a bit, friendly jokes. The looks he'd been giving her was the same she often get - child, small, young. Not that it bothered her any, but she always laughed. And then cried, secretly. Oh, if they only knew the story of her soul. The darkness and death she'd seen already. But it was fun to be underestimated. People who took her lightly, well, could be the best of her friends. She folded her arms behind her back and rocked lightly. Her feet ached from sitting still too long.

"So, what do you have planned today? Now that you're done with your mission?" She was curious. She hadn't had any plans today either in fact, she was resting, or supposed to be. And now that she had her painting done, her mind was fidgeting with what to do next. Rest was good for the body, but she wasn't sure that was true. She could paint again. Work in the garden. Bother Mrs. Saito at home. Dye her hair again. Ugh, that all just seems tedious at this point. she thought to herself. Training, sparring, just plain out running and sweating was her game. She craved it day in and day out. It kept her mind off - well, other things. But having just met this man, she didn't want to overwhelm him too much. He didn't seem interested in his mission at first, maybe he wasn't the hard-working type? Then again he did train while on his mission. That was a double benefit effect. He did like her art, that was also a plus. "Did you want to hang out or train or something? That painting was all I had planned today." She asked quickly. Probably too quickly, but she was a bit tired of just having just the elderly to talk to. Someone her age and in her field, so to speak, was an opportunity she didn't want to miss.

[WC 749/2197]

Akashi couldn't help but let out a light chuckle at the child’s bubbly personality. Her question made him look up to the sky for a few seconds, he asking the same question to himself. “What's it like to have a clan? Hmm… I've never thought about that until now, I'm not quite sure I know myself. The only other members of the Hibana clan I've ever met are my family members. I was raised outside of Konohagakure no sato, I’ve only recently returned to the village under my father’s orders. Personally, the name bears the weight of a tremendous responsibility. I can't speak for my fellow clan members, but my brother and I were raised with the Hibana clan’s and our family’s reputation in mind. Our actions and accomplishments as individuals reflect on our clan... of course our failures reflect on our fellow Hibana as well. The best is expected of us and anything else is considered failure.” Perfection... that was what one required to be the child of Hibana Masaomi. The truth was, the perfectionist mentally his family possessed was something that Akashi highly regarded; it allowed him to expect nothing but the best from himself. It was rare to meet someone in the shinobi world who was not a member of some clan, it made her a dark horse in combat... one with no strengths, yet also no weaknesses. She was someone to look out for, despite her appearance.

While he had already realized that she was a fellow shinobi long ago, due to the way she spoke about clans, it was made official by the girl’s own words and the forehead protector she had just recently worn. Unlike her, he intentionally chose not to wear his forehead protector, instead it was strapped on the side of his hakama. Akashi stayed silent, as he listened to the girls thoughts and opinions on lower ranked missions. Once she finished he replied with his own thoughts “While I agree with you on the potential dangers of wild grass, I don't think the job itself should be left to us shinobi. Housework should be jobs given to those who seek to work in manual labour, not shinobi who are trained to kill whilst themselves avoiding death.” While he disagreed with her sentiments, he couldn't deny the maturity she held for her age. The Hibana was impressed, though he swore he had possessed the same level of maturity when he was of the same age.

The little girl continued to surprise him; first, with her being a shinobi at such a young age, second with the maturity she possessed as a child, and now with her apparent knowledge in taijutsu. Call it natural instinct, but something deep in his gut told him that she was not one he should take so lightly. “From the moment my father realized that I was finally capable of learning, I was trained by multiple teachers in multiple subjects, one of them was a former samurai general of the land of iron who taught me the way of the sword, I gravitated to his teachings the most as a child. Kenjutsu became something I enjoyed aside from being something I had to learn.” The girl had asked so much about himself, so he naturally grew curious of the rainbow haired child. Akashi wasn't a naturally curious person, so it took a moment for him to channel his curiosity. Though as if telepathically knowing his intentions, the girl beat him to the chase. This time she asked about his plans for the rest of the day.

What were his plans for the day? Initially he had decided on returning to his manor and spending the entire day inside the dojo training, but now he wasn't so sure. Meiyo was an interesting person, one whose company he enjoyed. He wanted to get to know her better and was just about to ask more of her time, but was again beaten to it by the child. “Training? Did you have a sparring in your mind? If so, then I shall gladly accept.” Akashi scanned the surrounding area, looking for a more suitable place for the two to have their match. “If it’s alright with you I'd like to spar somewhere else, one without any surrounding grass. I'm not very familiar with Konohagakure, so if you know any spots I'll follow you.” The truth was, he had grown curious of the child, he knew better than to underestimate her, but at the same time he wanted to gauge her abilities.

779 | 2248

Meiyo looked at him with curiosity. He seemed to regard his clan life with great respect and maturity. The last part had her thinking though. “Anything else is considered failure? Huh. Strict.” She shrugged. Though she wondered what that effect could be. He seemed well rounded. And to fail was against her nature. Always give it your all. But to her, she found that fighting spirit on her own, would it also be as effective being expected of a person? On one hand, she thought that might steal from a person’s soul, or be off-putting, but on the other, this is a dangerous world and failure could mean your death. So both ways, I guess. she thought. “Strict but necessary.” she hummed under her breath while she listened. Maybe that was what being in a clan was all about, encouraging your kin to be better them. It was an interesting idea.

Along with his thoughts, she couldn’t help but laugh and roll her eyes. What he said was only half true. To her, a shinobi should be willing to yes, put their life on the line, but jobs aren’t always black and white. Sure some specialize, but to her, one should always be serving. Even if it’s an encouraging hand or clearing a field. He’ll see it, one day. “You’ll see it one day. And I hope I’m there to see you see it. I like you, I think we'll be great friends.” That would be a fun day.

His past was turning out to be more and more interesting every breath he took. “I love that you found something you enjoy to do. It’d be a shame otherwise.” And her day took for an even brighter. The moment she heard him say sparring she was turned on her heel and picking up her board of things in one arm and shoes in the other. “Come along then,” she said over her shoulder. “I know this place like the back of my hand.” She threw one shoe on the ground and slipped her foot in, then the other as she walked quickly through the field east. “I need to stick these in the water anyway else they’ll be gross by the end of the day. Berries are great paints but they sure get sticky fast. So I’ll take you to a pond I know in between the trees over here.” She pointed with a free hand ahead of her.

Her legs ache against the strain of walking. They wanted to run, to be fast, but she didn’t want to outpace her company. What if he got lost? She’d probably run circles and find him again, but keeping the restraint to not meet her personal pace was almost exhausting in of itself. But he said spar. “I’m really excited to have someone to train with. I haven’t had anybody since the Academy, so this is a real treat! Do you spar often? Oh, right you have a cool clan. You probably train all the time with them. I’m really jealous of that by the way,” she hummed as they walked. “It’s just Mrs. Saito and me, and she’s fun but she’s retired and just sits with our neighbors all day gossiping. So I’m really thankful you’ve agreed to spar.” She smiled up at him broadly. The wind rustled around her and suddenly whipped her hair around her head like a tight scarf, she pulled it off, spitting out long hairs. A warmth under her cheeks. “Whoops, heh, long hair, always finding a way to get in the way.” Suddenly they came through a small grove of trees.

“Step carefully here,” She warned. “Big roots jutting up everywhere, it’s almost like fencing.” Carefully she balanced the tray in one hand and leaped over a knot of roots half the size of her that twisted above the ground menacingly. The maze of roots was everywhere along the line of trees, but after hopping over just a handful of rows, there came an expansive clearing with a large pond to the left. Patches of grass here and there, but mostly red dirt. The pond was a hundred meters both long and wide but sat only ten meters deep. Birds and fish accompanied the area with a friendly squirrel here are there to balance the mix, but they were the only live things there beyond Akashi and Meiyo. Meiyo walked towards the water's edge and set her tray on the soft clay that made the small line of the beach. “I’ve just got to rinse these really quick.”

Meiyo picked up her paintbrush and swirled in the water. The black and purple paint spun under the water like ribbons. Turning the paintbrush carefully she was able to rinse the paintbrush and twist the ribbons of color into a flower under the water. Satisfied, she reached over and put the wooden box aside away from the water and just dunked everything else on the tray into the water. She hooked the paintbrush into its loop. The water swirled like a rainbow of watercolors. It was almost mesmerizing. Meiyo stood up and turned to the boy. She figured she’d let them soak for a while. So she walked towards the clearing, stretching her arms above her head and then from side to side. “Okay,any conditions for this?” She spoke. She bowed low towards him and then went into lowering her stance with one palm near her face, another outstretched and her legs in a low lunge, right leg forward. “Show me what you got, friend.” Her eyes glinted with fierceness and excitement. She knew of his sword work and he was taller than she. But it would be the first few moves that helped her really assess what he was capable of.

[WC 992/3189]

Excited by the fight and the adrenaline coursing inside her she was almost overwhelmed with her senses on point. A spar, training, movement, that is what she breathed for. This was an opportunity to make her stronger and she was going to take it. Her opponent was a swordsman, taller than her, and more than likely heavier - normal observation. He was ten meters at first from her, his back to the lake that would prove useful if needed later. She laughed at his expectation. Don’t kill each other, course not! Don’t hold back? Easy. She never held back. Hurt each other, definitely. It was all a part of the game. No pain, no gain, right?

“Hold back? Never, that would be rude.” she teased. Her blood pounded in her veins, her heart was in her throat and all her senses on edge. The adrenaline was almost ecstasy. He pulled his sword out as expected. She was glad he did. She wanted to see it. It was exquisite. Little longer than two feet and it looked fierce and a dark red suited for battle. Meiyo felt a chilling wave of both fear and breathtaking enticement when gazing upon it. The blade was almost mesmerizing even as she had no intention of mastering weapons beyond the standard. She, beyond her shinobi profession, could appreciate its beauty as an artist. He moved the sword out and then close to his body. He was ready and he was coming for her. She settled into her stance with a smile. She could take him. She just had to be quicker. With a deep breath, she cleared her mind and let her body do the work. You know what to do. Just believe in yourself. she thought to herself. With a nod at the ready to him, he was off. In half a second he was within a meter’s range in the same Ko Gasumi stance. The one advantage she had of this would be gone if she couldn’t react quick enough.

But the burst of speed would be a problem. His body was moving so quickly it was almost too fast to perceive, but her reaction time could play a difference as his swing was at a speed rate she recognized in herself. Within a  meter away with a blade and arm length that made a difference of over that meter distance, he was after her right leg first. And she was exposed. Why’d she worn her shortest black shorts today? She didn’t have but a half second to react and the only thing her body could think to do was a jump.The sword would still be able to reach her as it swung down, it’s length was definitely long enough. So she jumped with everything she had backward evading his second swing for injury, but his first caught her leg and the second caught the ends of her hair. She didn’t react to the injury or the hair, however. She was on an adrenaline rush and nothing was going to stop her from fighting her hardest.

Evading the second swing backflipping, a handful of three inches of rainbow hair and a streak of blood falling through the air, she hit the ground in a crouch on her feet. She immediately pushed off with two fists angled upward and her right knee angled for a three for one strike. One fist was to block an incoming arm swinging the blade if this fist didn’t also connect, the other fist to strike the neck directly and her knee to catch him in the stomach. She shot in with her head low and arms fully extended towards the larynx of his neck. It doesn’t take a lot of force to injure this and it could make it hard to breathe even when bruised lightly. Given he had swung horizontally outward with both hands on the sword, he had exposed his body briefly and matched in speed, he could pull the sword down or swing back horizontally again. This put her in an awkward position, but given her strength she may have the slightest upper hand to make contact before he could bring the sword back all the way, keeping herself in the small pocket between his head and the comeback. The blade itself was strong enough that if he did swing towards her, he could cut her arms but from the length of the sword there was the potential of cutting himself too if the swing back carried too much force. This was a heavy risk to her. If she was successful he would be knocked back, possibly having a hard time breathing, and lightly bruised for the smallest hesitation in which she’d aim to strike again. She would shift her body to balance on her left leg, turning her hips and use her injured right leg to bring a kick with the hard part of her shin into his side, possibly knocking him again and or bruising his side hopefully before he brought his raised arm down. Her body would be fully extended in a horizontal angle with her left foot on the ground to pull maximum strength in her kick. Her leg may be injured, and it hurt like hell burst open, but the hard part of the shin connecting to tissue could still be useful. If his arm had managed to come down to defend himself, she’d still bruise that.

Blood leaking from her wound splashed on the ground with the cut hair ends. Quickly she pulled back her leg and turned to hop backward away from him, getting some distance about a collected hopping of another ten meters if he allowed with a series of no-handed, awkward one footed backflips. The pain was settling in quickly and affecting her concentration a tad bit at every jostle her body took. She grit her teeth smiled devilishly and folded her hands through a set of hand signs to bring about a more defensive jutsu she had available quickly before he either had the time to recuperate or the time to react. Breathing out air into her hand she formed an orb of wind, prepared to throw it at him if he made a move.

If given the opportunity she grabbed the hem of her shirt and tore a strip to tie across her wound with a free hand. It was an inch and a half deep and two inches long at a slight angle just above her knee. She was lucky it was a flesh wound and he hadn’t sliced her whole leg off or important tendons. But it still hurt and she still was wounded that it would become difficult to run. Her evasive maneuvers were going to be entirely based on her left leg now if not her hands and head if needed, save she wasn’t willing to fight through the pain and wound herself more. But for the fight to be fought, Meiyo was a force willing to sacrifice anything. She kept in mind he wasn’t an enemy and this was just a spar. So hand and hand she was willing to keep fighting just to prove herself as a respectable and willing warrior and hoped this came across. She wanted to make friends and the only way she knew how was through friendly socializing and aggressive fighting techniques.

WC 1244/4433

Stats:

135/150:

Bloody, cut up and tired, suddenly very tired. So what have we learned, Meiyo?

Meiyo stood unsteadily. She hadn’t managed to flee as much as she had intended. Her shirt was cut and stained, her leg was the same, her hair had lost some inches and her blows hadn’t had quite the impact she had expected. Nor had her jutsu which was odd in her head and for a long moment she couldn’t figure out why that all seemed strange. Her thoughts were rapidly becoming slower. Probably due to blood loss… She thought. He had thundered a ‘Yield!’ to her. Though it was all becoming quite distant. She looked him in the eye. Gold eyes, like mine, that’s weird. Yah, I should probably yield, or not yield, or yield…. If I yield I’ll live, if not he’ll win. If he wins, well, what’s the worst that could happen? She hesitated. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. Nor did she at this point have the concentration as her levels of adrenaline were coming down and her pain levels were coming up - like an awful seesaw ride. Did I make it worth it? As a spar is this enough? The main problem she was facing was emotional. She had always been headstrong, just rushing in ready for a fight no matter what. Often she couldn’t let go of the fight. That had been a problem. Defend her beliefs and loved ones until death was always her path. But to die for a spar? Now there was an emotional conundrum if ever there was. Fight? She thought lucidly.

What she meant to do was say never but instead, her lips opened and she fell to the ground as the world tipped. The fight was over and she didn’t have much left to fight for her own fight within. So instead she sat in her bloody mess. Still, a smile spread across her lips. “Well, that was fun. You win this time, but I'll get you back next round. And you should teach me some of those tricks you used.” She hummed, glancing down at the mess she was. Everything was becoming a bloody mess even her most prized possession, her leather bracelet with colored stones. My mom’s bracelet too? Damn. oh well, things wash out. “I’m a mess, I hope my letter isn’t soaked,” she hummed some more. “Mrs. Saito’s going to have a fit. Say,” Meiyo looked back up at him, tired as ever and a bit pale. What once hurt was starting to go numb. “if you don’t have anything else to do, will you run me by the hospital? I’ll trade you another painting, maybe a portrait next time.” And with that, she was worn. She leaned on one hand but was barely holding on by sheer will.

[Exit Thread]

WC 487/4920

Stats From D to D3: