The third training grounds were swathed in trees and natural shade. The clearing gave a wonderful view of mountains in the distance. And the large, deep river with forests on both its sides.With a glade in the center, three tree stumps stood in a horizontal line. Bearing old scars, and years of recreation. The sky was amber, and the air was beginning to cool.

Xion always considered the evening the best time to his hone skills, keep himself sharp. He felt more in-tune with the Void during the night. Besides that, the Leaf’s paralyzing heat early and midday, only made him want to conserve his energy rather than expend it.

The dozen or so people that still lingered here were starting to leave. Daylight would be gone in a matter of an hour and a half, or so Xion guessed. Despite his apprehension, he loved crowds. He loved the way people walk, roughly in one direction, weaving a little, chatting as they go. He’d watch them, some heads down and lost in thought and wonder what their private worlds are like--each of them viewing this same place, this same day, from a unique perspective. Some of them notice the sun, others the cloudy remains of yesterday’s rainstorm. Either way their footfalls soothed him better than a flowing river. Even back then, back in Giant’s Scar, he was a city boy. And a city boy he would always be. 

Still, it was nice to almost be alone. There were a limited amount of Wushu training dummies, and the younger Genin usually hogged them, for hours at a time in most cases. He was working on perfecting his form. Keeping his back straight, his feet flat on the ground. In his mind at least, he could hold his own against those of his caliber, but even now, Xazool’s words, his father’s words, still harked back to memories he’d pushed to the corners of his mind. Xazool told him he refused to learn the fundamentals. That he lacked discipline. Kvothe, the Wrath of Giant’s Scar, helped to set him on track. Effortless ire. Master of arms. Earned mannerisms. Xion assumed he’d probably be farther along if Kvothe was still alive. Sod the world.

He’d compared himself to Kvothe since the day they met. Naturally, Xion wanted to be just like him. Eyes steeled, moves mindless yet efficient. A presence that was nonchalant, that could make any man burdened by his nerves crumble. But he soon figured out, mettle like that was within everyone. Like steel, it required constant sharpening until it took it’s lethal shape. His strength, or the purpose of having strength wasn’t what he was after either. It was because he wholly believed in doing the right thing. How could a young boy resist a superhero like that? 

He was brave. And being brave means being afraid, or at least it does for Xion. The two go hand in hand. First is the fear, then the determination not to be ruled by it. Every cell in him, since that day, now always wants to choose to face fear, to conquer it, for how else are we to make true progress in life? He refused to be molded by the darkness whom want him conveniently placated; corrupted. 

He struck the dummy, incognizant to any pain that could exist.--

There was always a choice between right and wrong. Light and dark. The Sky and the Deep.

‘Underdogs like us, we do the moral thing, 'cause the moral thing needs doin'.’

--He hit it again. And again. Kvothe’s words echoed, they’d give him the strength to keep going. To keep trying. To keep on living, for the both of them.

 Though his heart often beats fast and his fingers tingle from an excess of fear and anxiety, he knew he was a warrior at heart. He’d proved it once before. That when faced with adversity, he had the ability of calm and rational thought--a virtue that he owed to his second father. 

WC: 686/686

Chiaki was just getting back from doing her evening yoga out in the wilderness. She had taken some comfy clothing, leggings with short shorts over them, a loose tank top over a sports bra and had tied up her hair in a tight braid. Her body was covered in a thin layer of sweat from the exertion, as her yoga consisted of contorting herself into weird positions and holding them for several minutes before finally releasing them. She found that the exercise helped to calm not only her muscles, but also her emotions.

Just that week, she had a patient pass away on her, and though she was at no fault herself, she felt like she could have done something to help with it. Sighing, she shook her head, wringing out the constant nagging, she wanted to improve herself and at this time of night, all of the littler genin would go home and she would be left with a field all her own. It was about dinner time, but she had brought a bento box and was satiated for now. Climbing over a little hill and through the forest, she made her way slowly to the training grounds of the third. She knew that it was a special place, a holy place of training for most of the denizens of Konoha but she also knew that she greeted it like a friend that she hadn't seen in a while, but that she knew everything about. There was a special chakra to this place that, no matter the damage that was wrought on the landscape by whatever jutsu, it always was pristine by the beginning of the next day.

Today, it looked like there wasn't that much of a tussle on the grass, as it looked mainly as kept as when she had eyed it this morning as a class of academy students took to the field, crying, laughing, and generally making a bunch of high pitched noises while their shinobi instructor told them to settle down. She might be in the health field, and she might be able to take a lot of abuse in that sense, but she certainly couldn't keep up with the kiddos as well as this person and well, it wasn't for her.

She ducked under a branch and came to the clearing when a familiar person was standing in that space, someone who she didn't expect to see there, or really didn't expect to see again. Their meeting before was by chance, and he had almost taken her head off, but they hit it off famously, and she wondered why he was out here so late. Then again, it was not an accident that she met him only at night, she herself did her best thinking and training at night, feeling more at home in the moonlight than the sunlight.

Chiaki stepped forward and cleared her throat, "Xion?" she called out to the clearing, wondering if she had the right person. It was hard to tell, as his back was to her, but she thought she couldn't mistake his unique appearance, even from behind. Perhaps so, but also perhaps not. Maybe he had a brother, a twin? Should she have not called out his name?

Uncertainty gripped her as she made a slow advancement, wondering if this, indeed, was the person which she had coffee with last time.

WC: 571

He heard his name. His muscles locked in place. It had come from the brush, behind the short shrubs and low hanging branches that could hide just about anyone’s approach. He turned and his eyes searched for the familiar, meek voice.


Ice white eyes, with an even colder gaze; they seemed to melt at the wonted girl. It was Chiaki, again. To meet twice in a row, as dusk falls. He looked her over. Petite. Dark-hair. Bright-eyed. It had been too dark to get a good look at them before, but her eyes were seriously blue. Almost sickeningly blue - mingled with innocence, field of cornflower, perfect, like clouds at sea, or a cloudless sky blue. 


His eyes were mazed. A pleasant surprise.“Oh. You again. C-Chiaki, yah?”


His ramrod posture became more lax upon seeing her. He sauntered away from the dummy. Before a form as dainty and feminine as her’s, he thought that he might look brutish. Then, he could remember her mentioning wanting to be a Shinobi. Something to that vain, at least.


She wasn’t dressed modestly for a cool evening like this. Her hair was in a tight rope of a braid, her skin had a subtle sheen. She might have been out jogging. We aspiring Ninja think alike. When he thought about it, she wasn’t helpless at all. When she unsheathed those chakra senbon, when they first met in the Dense Forest,  she had moved with robotic precision but organic fluidity, needle after needle molded with perfection. An innocent appearance but latent potential.


‘Such an interesting [shape]. Her will doesn’t [roam] in open challenge. Not like most of man.'


Xion huffed. A very low whisper. “I was thinking the same thing. Evenings. Consistently. She wants to be strong.”


‘An appetite for power. Familiar, yes? That [desire] is laid bare in her chest! Reality’s finest [flesh]! And are you not [hungry]?!’


He mused on the voice. Feeling as though it could use it’s words, it’s will, to tear right through the screaming surface of reality. Asunder. And let his hideous thoughts out to the word. He willed himself to pay attention to her. Acknowledge her. But wherever blatant ambition was, He was there. Making a meal out of everything He saw.


If this conflict, a dualistic mindset that actively opposed his own, denied his own, was pain, then he hadn’t been lucky enough to not experience such a thing. He worked up a grin, it looked faint. Plastic even. Better than looking like hadn’t eaten in a day or so. 


‘Well then? Go on.’ His voice was all intention. Devoid of all emotion. All soul.


No. This was ridiculous. At a time like this? Xion had to remember this was his mind. His thoughts. His will was his own.


‘So please. You’re only following [a directive]. Pure [instinct]--”


He would not be seduced. Coerced. Afflicted. But maybe he could stave off it’s hunger. If only for a little while.


‘--WIELD ME! HEGEMON OVER YOUR DOUBT! AND USE ME TO TEST HER!’


Fine then. 


His plastered smile grew wider. A countermeasure to appear more benevolent. To mask the absurd thoughts being forced on to him. He was a good person, right? And good people rarely have such gross thoughts. At least, that’s what he assumed.


He musters a considerate tone, keen expectancy, “So--did you come here to train as well? Since you’re here--and well, since I’m here, wanna be sparring partners--?


That felt forceful.


“--You can decline. That is, if you’d prefer not to.”

WC: 605/1291

Chiaki nodded to the asking if she was who she was. It was strange that she would happen upon him like this, but then again, maybe not. Maybe she happened upon Xion in the wilderness because it was one of the only times he was actually out. She would have to see if her hypothesis was correct later though. "Xion, if I am not mistaken?" Her eyes smiled along with her lips, drawing out her beauty, or what was left of it that hadn't been murdered by the yoga she had done before, "It is nice to see you again. I hope you're not training too hard?"

She looked between him and the stump that he had been practicing on, back and forth a while before she was asked a question which pinned her curiosity, and seemed to scratch an itch that she had. Just how powerful was she now? Just what power had she attained since she saw him last? Just how much faster, stronger, and quicker reacting had she gotten. Had he attained new power? Was he a good rival?

All of these flashed in her eyes like lightning before the storm settled and her eyes resumed their placidity of before. She smiled and nodded, "I would like that very much. Though, We should probably set some ground rules so we don't end up hurting each other beyond repair." She smiled and tilted her head, sticking out her tongue a bit and then continued, "I am a medical ninja though, so we can probably beat the snot out of each other and it will be fine."

Nodding and putting a delicate finger to her lips and her thumb to her chin, she sized up Xion, wondering if that scythe would be as dangerous as it looked. She wondered what rank he was, what he had learned in the time that they had been apart. Perhaps she should have not accepted his challenge? Nonsense! No running away from this. This was a friendly spar after all! Kunoichi and Shinobi did this all the time!

She nodded once more, her mind set. She would spar with him, if he would promise not to go too far, and she would promise the same.

WC: 946

Xion simpered, looking quite pleased with himself. “Of course. Nothing that might mortally wound us, right?”

There was something different about her, since the last time they met anyway. She seemed more uncomplicated, her words had more plain-sailing, and less apprehension. She moved with more clarity. A lot more straightforward. 

It had been a few weeks since they first met. He’d say it was unlikely that people could undergo such changes, in such a short amount of time. But he wasn’t even surprised anymore. In the shinobi doctrine people progressed typically in a comparatively small but significant way. It was how things needed to be so one’s peers didn’t leave them in the dust.

Hard to believe this was the same bright-eyed, and bushy tailed girl from before.

He’d left his scythe propped against an oak near the clearing. He nodded towards it, just to point out that that is where it would stay. 

At least from his view, or paranoia, she was sizing him up as well. Usually he tried to make it so there wasn't a person in a hundred that could tell of his apprehension. He’d take all that is calm about himself and make it his aura, tucking away that which would surrender his insecurities to the world and leave him so vulnerable. He’d been putting this into practice ever since after Giant’s Scar. Breezing through this life bestowing smiles and the salve loved ones need to be well. Over time, he’d hope that the things that scare him fade away like old shirts lost in the back of the closet, and that he’d hopefully have no issues steeling himself quickly.  As if there were never any worries there at all.

How long has it been? Of course he could remember the last time he went blow for blow with someone. But that was a very long time ago. He didn’t need to do it nowadays. Outside from recreation, the long standing peace here was unusual for him, but a nice change of pace, nonetheless. He hopped a good few meters back. On either side of the clearing, it gave them a good one-hundred or so meters equidistant between the two of them. 

He stretched. Partly warming up, and partly making a show of. This was all in good, healthy fun after all. His eyebrows furrowed. A steadfast, friendly grin as a black, tendril sprouted from his back. Curling into a spring, burrowing into the ground, and thrusting him into the fight. Closing twenty-five meters between them.

WC: 437/1728

Jutsu Used:

"Well, I am concerned because I have a couple of jutsu that are quite deadly, in fact." She nodded as he asked the question, bending her neck until she felt a little 'snick'. More a feeling than a sound as she popped her neck, rolling it to the other side in a languid and fluid motion. She was still unsure of herself, and her palms sweated. Would she lose, would she hurt the poor person that was standing before her?

She gulped, the sign of uncertainty spilling out into the material world, rather than just staying in the ephemeral world of half thoughts and miscalculated feelings. She smiled and giggled a bit, wondering if she could shake off the uneasiness. She had one spar before this, but she couldn't remember quite how it turned out. Strange that, memory was always such a fickle thing.

She nodded towards the scythe as well, then threw her kunai and senbon to her left. She wouldn't need such things in a friendly battle, too careless and she could stab too deep to heal. Best to leave them at the wayside.

She stretched a bit too, closing her eyes for a moment to get the feel of the battlefield. It was going to rain soon, she could tell from the smell of the grass, the humidity of the air, the rush of wind that went right to her core when she let out a sigh. In that sigh, she missed the beginning of the battle, and at the end of it she opened her eyes and then ran at him, closing 20 meters. She was a close ranged jutsu user and she didn't want to let him have all the fun. Weaving hand seals with both hands, she thought she would at least size him up.

They were now 45 meters apart, she nodded, her current trajectory and his would mean that they would meet in the middle, they were both running at each other head on, rather than making clones, using any sort of diversion. Good, this was how it was supposed to be. Two Genin that were in the prime of their lives. Lightning crackled between her hands, jolting up and down her arms, ending at her elbows and then jetting across the gap again, she waited for him to come into range and when he was right at the precipice of 25 meters she would loose her jutsu with a shout of, "Hidden leaf Lightning jutsu: Lightning spear!"

Jutsu used:

Lightning spear:

WC: 1365

She broke into a sprint and closed twenty meters on her end. Equidistant, between either of them, there were only forty-five meters of clearing left. Xion’s velocity could be attributed to his jutsu, but her speed seemed natural. His forehead wrinkled with worry. He’d--no, He’d bitten of more than he could chew. And not it was up to himself to pay the piper. He couldn’t help but grin nervously.

For a moment she was motionless. Almost like she was baiting. But if she wouldn’t come to him, he would come to her. She hurriedly weaved her fingers, and lightning began to crackle from her extending hand.

"Hidden leaf Lightning jutsu: Lightning spear!"

Lightning? So she had lightning chakra nature. Paralytic. Deadly and quick. But not as quick as natural lightning. Seldom did people, back in the Land of Wind, use lightning chakras. It appeared slower, sure. If it was sparked from something natural, it would have hit him already. And it would be a sure kill.

With the limited experience he had, and his immunity to pain, he had half-a-mind to tank the attack. And deal with any repercussions later. He didn’t have a fear of physical pain, not like other. As he had yet to experience it. But he did possess the same value for his own life and preservation like other people did.

The technique looked just as fast he was. It’s velocity wasn’t incredible but it matched the aid of his Black Bane. She waited until he was in optimal range. He wasn’t sure if it could suddenly change directions. In which case it was pointless to dodge. So much for any aerial maneuvers. If she had attacks like this, then using his vertical space only made him a sitting duck. But, if he kept his agile, horizontal movement he stood a chance. Against this technique anyway.

It would be close. But if he ran while utilizing the jutsu’s utility, he could add an extra five meters per second on top of the twenty five meter potential. That boost should be enough for him to completely avoid the attack, but not by much. 

The doughy, void tendril hardened and speared the ground. The malleable dirt acting as the foundation to parry the lightning’s path. He owed his close brush to the boost in speed his feet on the ground.

Now either of them were at point blank range. At this range, she probably outmatched him, still. But now there was only space and ample opportunity.


‘͖̪̯͂̍͗̍ͅY͇̎ę̣̿̅͑ͅs̨͙͗͗,̢̨̰͂̔̇͌͜ t̘̼̖̿̀̎h̭̝̤̗̬̐̒̌̏͘ą̨̢̝͌̏̈̆̏͜ẗ̳̳̾’̱̫͝͞s̡̱̪̀̇͟͞͞ ̨͑ï͙̝̹̂̐t̨̳̅͒!͙̖̮͂̂̕ U͉͆s͕͕͠͞ė͖͚̰͍̎̏͞ ̼̯͒͘m̧̦̘̤̌̐͠͠ė͢,̤̟̲̂͆͐ ̢̛̲̰̦̅͂̀Ṓ̖̣̤̗̉̾͋͢’ ̢͖̭̦̾̒͘͝w͉͛ȋ̡e͓̮̓̏̍͜l͖͍̉̏̕͟d̡̛̖̜̝̃̇̋é̱̘͙̱̕͞͠r͍̗̮̈́̉͘͢͡ ͒ͅm̭͗í͖̮͡ṉ̛͉͌ḙ̃!̟̙͌̋-̜̅̊͜-͔͚̠̑̽̕͡ͅ’̢͍̘͓͗̊̅̔


Voices stole into his mind like a deranged thief, distorting his reality. It he when he used the power of the void, that he opened a direct doorway to his mind, and risked letting the darkness in.  It added new dangerous ideas, seeding a new personality and muddling up the rest. New sparks of black that once he would have dismissed as bizarre started to grow roots, deep roots, they started to make sense in one revolutionary eureka moment after another, cascading out of control, luring him  further and further from the self he once knew.


‘̥͐-̟̲̔̅-̟̗̙̅̆̆͑͢F̭̀̔ͅr̟̭̟̿́͞eę̢̭͓̅͐̽͂ ̰͐m̢̨̟̑́̉e͔̟̤͑̔̉!͎̒’̨͎̅͞


Xion spoke as he moved. An effort to stay in control. “You’re different--from before.”

WC: 556/2284

Jutsu Used:

Chiaki watched as the lightning she threw at him fizzled to nothing as he sprang to the side, a burst of speed that he most likely would not be able to duplicate. That was fine, she was trying to lure him in anyhow. Most of her techniques were a touch range anyhow, as she suspected his were.

He was on her in another blink of an eye, and she grinned, putting pressure to him would be her specialty now that he was in her 'deadly zone.' she had taken down the wolf, taken down the gorilla, worn down the chuunin who stole her backpack, all of this culminated in her experience that she had behind her, making her stance strong but fluid. She was a mountain stream, small, fragile, but also unstoppable. If she met a large stone, she would eventually find her way around it, or she would go under it, or through it if it took her longer than she expected.

Twisting her hand to the side, she attempted to backhand him with her right hand, less dominant than her left which wove seals as he talked, seemingly forgetting that this was a sparring match, and that he might need to pay more attention, "I have taken life. It is a bit of a learning curve." She smiled, this time, the smile was a sad one, one filled with regret and pity as the lives she took flashed in front of her eyes, the many lives that she had taken when she was cleaning up Takao's warpath, the wolf, the others that didn't even qualify as missions, but were more of mercy killings in the sea, the swamp of life as a kunoichi. She had been hardened, and now that clear mountain stream had a bit of sediment. She would have to meditate to get it all out of her, wash herself clean of it, but she didn't care to at the moment. At the moment she was facing a friendly adversary.

Her hand stopped on the serpent as she persued her backhand with a jutsu of hers. If it should collide, she would shout "Heavy water Jutsu!" and Xion would find that his arms would be disabled (for three posts). If it should miss, she would jump back and put up her defenses, much as a boxer would, both of her arms raised to head-height, waiting for him to strike her. She was having a blast, that was evident, and she wanted to show him how much she had grown. She also wanted to test out that... tentacle? That he had on his back. She wondered what it was made out of, what it worked as, and what he used it for. Moreover, she wondered what he was, exactly. What kind of a user? Perhaps a Nara? But that tentacle wasn't made of shadow it was made of a more solid thing. It actually interacted with the environment. Interesting.

WC: 1862

Insanity was Xion’s curse, it was the thing he feared above all else. The more he weaponized the unknown, the more he gave darkness the reigns. The strange thoughts that once sunk him into new realities with graceful ease, never leaving a trace or a clue they had taken hold, will come and go like they did before. Each is a florid daydream, not viewed like a movie, but lived in first person. He’s always the main character, elevated and heroic, a delusion of grandeur, he supposed.

 In those same seconds he was inundated with the force of her open palm, and a rush of water. 

If he could register pain and it’s scale, that would have probably stung. His immediate reaction was to retaliate since he was within range. But he couldn’t move his arms. Peculiar.

When did she pull that off, the slap or the water, he thought.

Something definitely was different about her. Chiaki had become steeled somehow, but she hadn’t been that way. The first time they met her emotions were apprehensively variable. Her emotions were as variable as anyone inexperienced with a knife, sometimes gregarious, other times timid. She’s taken this new shape recently. A combination of assurance and pacific.

Once her eyes fretted. She was filled with alarm. Maybe even a shine creased her water line. He couldn’t remember. It seemed like such a long time ago. And she was such a different person now.

He remembered taking a life. It had been one. But in that moment carried so much dread. Responsibility. The weight of all his memories, sentiments, and burden of all those before him who’d suffered. It changes a person, for better or worse. But it takes guts that he assumed she didn’t have. 

Which is why he found it just a bit odd. Those with conviction paired best with him. Someone with admirable canon. Shall we be friends?


‘͋͂̅̌To̅͆͆ ͌[̇̽k̊î̿̈l̒ĺ̕͝]̂͛ ̾͐ǐ̓̈́s̛̈́̓͝ ̏̇͠n̿̕o̔t ͝m̒è̄̑̈́ré̃͞l͊̈̋y̌̀̎̅ ̐̊t͆̍ȍ̄̂̚ sl̽a̛̒͋ÿ́̎̒͘.͑̾̽ ̏̚͡[̛̈̌K͗͑̋͆̕í̔͌l̅̋̔̽l͛i͗͠n̓̉́̓͝g͊]͝ i̽̋s͂̒ a͂̅̏ ̛͂̊r̾̍o͛̽͞ã̇͌̕d̛̆̃͒,̾͂̆̊ dë́̏͝c̄̅̾̾a͊̊̎̃͞y͌̓̉͠ ͋̍́̂̕is̿͑̌̿ ̈́̎metamorphosis,͑͑̊͗̕ ̾͂t̃͆h̋̈̾e͐ ̉͘un̓s̛a͆c͌͊̏͘r̓e͌̈̾͛̆d̊ u̍́̓̎n͆̃́̋ī̚ó͡n̈̈̐ ͝͞b̐e̾tw͋́̽ẽ̈͋e͌̚͘n͞ ́͂͐ẗ̿ḧ́͠é̛ ̈́͌̃͊[͒̑̓͘ś̄̔l̀̓̆̊̊a̾̔͞ÿ̍̚é̽r]͐̉́͞ ̒áňd̄͑̎̈ ̂͑̍͞t̂h͊è̂̓ ͐̈́̆[̔̓̆s͆̾̈͂l͋͠ả̈́͌ïn̓̎́]̑͛.̉̉ ͆͛̍͂T̐͗͡͠h͋̂͗̎è ̀͛͞m̒͐i̔͌͗͝gh̅̅̆̀̑t͐ ͋wh͒̋̚i͌̀͛c͊̄̍̚̕ĥ́̋͊͠ ̋͡b̌̋r̀́͐͂in̕g̎̈͡s̈́͒̋̋̔ ́a̋̄̃͡ ̑͑͡g̅̈͘o͑d̄̓̍͐ ͗̎͛̕͘t̍͆͆͗o̊͗̃̏ ̑̾̆t̏͋̓he̒͗͆͊i͗͑̐͞r͋́̏͠ ̽͡k̄̀̓͠n̓e̓̕ẽ̃͑͡s̄,̒̍̀͝ ̌͠i̋̋͛s͂̂ ͋̊͡a̛͗̍͊ĺ̈͠s͐̅̿͘͘o͒̍̔ ̈̌̇t͐͆̀h͊̄͐͠e̾̀̒͗ ̊̂ä͌͞m̅b̛̍̓͝r͛̾͆ős̓̿͘i͂̏́a̔́̕ ͛̓̓͛̾t͐̌͠h̏a͌̓t̛͊̉̚͞ g̊o͐d͑̕̚ ͗͆͂̚[̛̊̓̅́d͒̋͡e͗̕s͛̎̌i̇̚r̊̔e͌̊̚̕s̊̅]̛̅,͋͊̔͞ ̛̆̇t͊̀͘h̍͗̌͘e͋̑̄̽̾ ͡m͑̅̿̔ě͒ā͠t̃̊̍̌̀-̇̅ṡ̛̿̃w̎͘ẻ̄͊e̛̾̌͊͗t̓̓ ̑lo͛͒̓͑g̈ī̌̽͘c̛ ͛̍͗͗̚o̅̍̎̕f́́ K͑̉̔̑͝i̋l̅ĺ͆i̊̇̈́̓n̅͐͗͞g͒̈́̎̄-ḟ̈͊o̊̋͒r̅̀͂-͆̕S̓̿͗͒̕p̎̃́̅ȍ̔̈̅rt̓͂,͒͑ ̆̆t̄̑̀̚h́͞ë́̏ ̈̇b̈́̉̽̓i̇̈́̍n̽̆̄o̍͡mi̓̂a͂l̒̚͠͞ ̕d͒̔̃e͊̆̾̔̓ć͆͐͡i͆͠śi̍̚͞o̍̅̊̽͠n̍ ̅̿͋̚b̾̎̎̈eṫ̑w͑̈́̂ẻ͆͡è̏̇̌n̉͌̿̾ ͛́̌̓t̓̅̑͋w̽́̓̐̈ŏ̈́̾̐ ͆͗̎ẃ̄̑͘̚a̓̔͛ÿ́͑͊͛s̈́̍͌͒́ ̆̓̂́͡ó͗́̔f͡ b͑̔͂͗e͆̅̇͂in̉g̊̀̓ ̑̊w̉̈́̕h͐ḯ̛͌̚c̀́̓̌h͋̆̕ ̈̅̏d̈̅̿́ė̈̒͌͘n͂͝ŷ͋͝ ̒̏͌e͑̋̂̇̒a͂̆̓̇͡c̈́̑͡͞h͂̽͗͂ ̾͂ő̈́̀͑͝t̂̔́͑̓h̋̓e͗̇͛r̔.͋̕ ͆̔̕

Tch. 

Even after a stern back-hand his voice was conflict-free. “Taken a life? Now I’ve gotta admit--”

A void tendril grew from his tailbone.

“--doesn’t seem like something of your caliber, Chiaki.”

 Coiling it around her leg and sweeping her off her feet was what he had in mind. She was quicker than him. Probably quicker than he could conjure the tendril and ensnare her with it in one combined action. But just how many times could she do that, he wondered.

Dark bruises began to pepper his skin. Dark embers flying off of them. He’d forgotten he couldn’t fight for too much longer.

Summary:

WC: 496/2780

Jutsu Used:

Chiaki conjured a red senbon in her hand and nodded to herself. It was time to step it up a notch. As she conjured the senbon, she revealed what it was, "Guanyin hidden jutsu: Guanyin necrotic senbon." The senbon, which was a brilliant red before, the one that Xion had seen, was now a dark red, almost a blood red. It lit the clearing in an eerie way, the shadows, instead of becoming more defined from the light that was there, started to move in different ways and elongated, becoming deeper.

As she conjured this senbon he had made another void tentacle. A tentacle that seemed to be damaging him as much as it was going to damage her. Best to end this quickly then. Attempting to step on it, she brought her foot down to have it caught by the tendril. Looking surprised, her world was turned upside down. She was quicker than the movement, and jabbed the senbon into the tendril. Let's see what this thing is really made of.

Chiaki landed, her back on the ground, The wind had been knocked out of her, but she rolled to the right as quickly as she dared. A good hit. As soon as she did though, she noticed that the place where the tendril had touched her was beginning to blister and burn. What in the world was this thing made of? The knocking off balance and the rolling would have given ample time for a follow up attack for her opponent and she knew it. Whirling to face Xion, her eyes became hard, predatory. She had to end this before he ended up hurting himself any further. This wound on her ankle. It wasn't natural. "I don't know what that is, but I don't think you know how to control it yet. Don't use it too much." Her voice was a river slicked over with ice, still moving beneath the surface but hard and frigid on top. It still held life, but buried it deep beneath a necessary protective layer of chill.

WC: 2213

He’d ensnared her. Suddenly his breath hitched. His eyes were wild. He could swear in these moments. It was like he had no control. Like instinct ruled over his mind, and he was just a bystander. 

The clearing lit up briefly, a red flicker in the palm of her hand. It blinded him, and when he felt the tendril dissolve he knew that she had freed herself. His appetite, if he could even call it that, went dormant once again. Still, he could foretell her strength. Her strikes were sure.

He heard his skin singe. Black ash flying in the wind. Even though he could not feel pain, he was starting to learn by looking at the state of his body, and wonder about his condition. His constitution did not fear pain, but it never helped being reckless. Whether it be eating attacks, or using his own without the proper tools to mitigate his condition. Such a shame, he wouldn’t let his face say it, but he was actually enjoying himself.

The ash and blackness drifted from her ankle. He must have been careless, cutting her was not his intention. 

“You move well. I guess--I wasn’t expecting it to go like this.” His body did not tremble as it singed with ashes of void. But he could smell it in the air. Decay. Disintegration. He hated it. The curse grew stronger.

‘I am [Xion]. And I am pleased.’

Not you. Not now.

“Did you exhibit a violent display just now? I wonder. One of you did.” 
'Did you exhibit a [violent] display just now? I wonder. One of you did.'

He caught himself following His voice. He stopped himself. His delusions were never the same. Xion felt like he'd stand more of a chance if they were always the same thing showing up at the same time of day. His  mind however was far more creative - his Otherself could show up at any time and say anything. 

There are days, he wondered if his mind is an engine or an exhaust. Was he the master of what he thought or are his ideas the result of something more sinister? There is a third possibility of course, that it is both, and it depends on his feelings at the time. Why did he do certain things, think certain things. He’d never pondered such problems. Like a normal person might. He feels the most clarity in his thinking and in control, when he is calm and happy. Yet more driven by impulses when he is fearful and anxious. But he supposed maybe that was most people. He should work on never making choices that matter when he is feeling afraid, perhaps then his life can make a turn for the better. Though he’s sure he won't always make the right choices, but if only the balance of good to bad shifts in his favour the results will be good.

A tendril shot from his back. Burrowing at his feet and springing him away. Creating twenty-five meter between either of them. 

His voice was sure. Free of tension. “I’d continue, but that would probably be bad for me.”

WC: 535/3313

As soon as he grabbed her, she felt a change in his personality, perhaps this was the reason that he didn’t use it very often, or at least very often around her. She felt the pain in her leg and when she drove the needle into the jutsu and it ‘popped’ She breathed a sigh of relief.

She looked to his skin, it seemed like it was peeling off, and she would need to repair his wounds soon or it would get out of control, spiral into something that he couldn't tame anymore. She grit her teeth against the pain in her own wound. She looked between him and his wounds, feeling torn between helping him and the duel that they were enjoying, and her blood boiled, burned inside of her. It was a war drum that told her to keep fighting, don’t lose no matter what. Don’t back down till he surrenders!

She shook her head, closing her eyes and forgetting her surroundings for a moment, a long and deep breath filling her lungs and when she let it out she opened her eyes. No, it wasn’t going to be like that. It was a sparring match. Best not to give into her short fuse.

He’d ensnared her. Suddenly his breath hitched. His eyes were wild. He could swear in these moments. It was like he had no control. Like instinct ruled over his mind, and he was just a bystander. Her own wound started to flake off, sending black ash into the air. Just what was this jutsu?

Xion complemented her and she smiled a bit, a wry smile was all that she could muster as she still thought that he had the intention of continuing. The smell in the air was that of the bodies that Takao had left in his wake. How many did he kill? How many did konoha kill in order to slake his thirst for… what, vengeance? Doubt crept into her face as she felt torn between the past and the present. The past roared its way into her vision, into her hearing, and all she could see and hear was that battleground. Shaking herself visibly she nodded, “Thank you. I have been practicing. It’s been a while since we got that coffee. Perhaps the next time we spar, you’ll far have surpassed me. It seems to be this way with the world. One wave rises and another rises to meet it.”

Then he said something odd, something that threw her off balance. What did he say? Did she exhibit violence? Or perhaps that was not… what he meant? She looked tenuously towards him as the tendril shot out of the boy’s back and buried itself in the ground. He said that it would be probably bad for them to continue, and, looking him over, she nodded. “I agree, I think we should end it with the next move.” She rushed towards him, making hand seals. She was going to surprise him. These were the hand seals for her Guanyin Sutures, Ram, Boar, Snake, Snake, Boar, and she rushed towards him. The technique would heal his wounds, but she didn’t want to tell him that, she wanted to show him a good thing, perhaps prolong the duel a bit.

It was because she wanted a good fight out of him, and she had used her crux de grace before she even had started the battle. Silly of her, might she add, because she wanted to test his skills. She rushed at him, at her highest speed and tripped over a root, tumbling and landing face first, knocking herself out. Her eyes went white.

Outside of her head, it looked like Chiaki had fallen flat on her face, and while she had knocked herself out, giving Xion the technical ‘win’ a war raged in her thoughts. For what happened before in the war brimmed to the surface during the duel, and now it raged behind her closed eyelids.

18+ Gore. PTSD dreams.:

((TLDR: Chiaki has dreams of the war.))

She woke with a start and pushed herself off of the ground. Looking around she had broken into a cold sweat and her eyes flashed with fear. What was she doing here? Who was she attacking?

Chiaki’s palms sweated and her hands shook. Her whole body was shaking, and she gripped her head, taking a deep breath, trying to calm down. It was only a dream. Only a dream. She couldn’t save them now. Deep - She inhaled - breath - she exhaled. Opening her eyes she wove the hand seals again for guanyin sutures, this time, applying them to herself before gesturing for Xion to come over to her. If he did, she would treat his wounds as well with another iteration of guanyin sutures, “I am sorry. I must have tripped.” She sounded embarrassed. “All I know is, you won. If that had been a real battle, I would be dead. So congratulations.” A bright smile leapt to her face as she closed her eyes and looked xion’s way.

She hoped that, in closing them and presenting her brightest smile, she might fool him into thinking all was well in her mind. All was well with her. “I admit it’s my loss.” She sighed and looked to the ground, “But I want a rematch whenever you’re ready.” This time a grin bubbled to the surface, untainted by the previous fever dream that had plagued her, “alright?”


WC: 4052

Jutsu used:

Guanyin sutures x 3-5 uses.

Name: Guanyin Sutures
Origin: Personal Creation
Rank: C rank
Type: Offensive/Supplementary.
Element: N/A
Range: Touch
Specialty: Medical Ninjutsu
Duration: N/A
Cooldown: N/A
Hand Seals: Ram, Boar, Snake, Snake, Boar
Description: The user pays 15 chakra and weaves the hand seals for the jutsu. Sutures spring from the user’s fingertips and they must place a finger to the target. The sutures will wrap around the victim’s wound and close it up to a C-ranked wound. If used with polarization, this suture will create an incision on a part of the body of the user’s choosing, the sutures spreading to that area and ripping the tissue apart in that area 3 cm deep over a 3 cm long area. The user can heal 1 instance of a C ranked jutsu or wound or two instances of a D ranked jutsu or wound.

|EXIT THREAD! To be continued in a different thread!!|


Using word count to train:

Sixteen pillar bind:

Plasma barrier:

“End it with this next move, huh?---” Xion smiled, his body moved as he spoke. “ --A little presumptuous wouldn’t you say?”


As she closes in with her needle ninjutsu, Xion’s blood wakes up his brain. Though he thought himself already awake. He’d already resolved to give her the win, he couldn’t fight like this. His smile grows of its own accord and he can either let her see what she ignited or hide it, either way, she's been the most fun thing in his world as of recently.


He felt like every fiber of his being was vibrating with anticipation. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins. His hands trembled and his eyes were wide. 'This is what a cat must feel like waiting to pounce on a mouse,' he thought.


He harnessed the darkness flowing through his body, he was as ready as he could be for a head on strike. His skin singed and flaked into oblivion. Dark embers dancing above him as if he were an open flame.


He was pushing it, he thought. It was almost mirthful. How he could push his body to the limit this fast without exerting that much effort. A blight received from the gods of old. Yami being the first. She said she was a medical kunoichi. Since this curse of his only seemed like it was going to grow stronger, and he needed to fight, he should dabble in Medical Ninjutsu in the future. It couldn’t hurt. He would have moved out of the way, but he noticed the giant tap root hazarding her. She was moving quite fast. There was no way she’d trip over there.


Is what he thought as she took a nosedive over it, landing face first.


That was just--clumsy. He wanted to laugh, but she hadn’t gotten up. Might it be serious?


She laid still. Deathly still. He was hesitant to approach her, at first anyway. His pace quickened.


The dread creeps over him like an icy chill, numbing his brain. In this frozen state his  mind offers him only one thought. Is she dead? Bad things were always bound to happen when he was around. He figured he was a living hex charm, or something like that.. There is no avoiding it. The dread of her passing made him feel like a cow being herded into a truck for the slaughter house, only the cow doesn't know where it's going and he does.


She was motionless only for a short time, however. She’d risen as soon as she’d tumbled. Only now she was trembling, dirt particles stuck to her forehead that was now slick with a cold sweat. 


She looks like she’s seen a ghost.


Her breath hitched as she stood, but she quickly breathed deep and regained control.

She looked dazed, but he was astonished that she still had the clarity to apply the precision required to perform medical ninjutsu on herself. That was it. The difference between the two of them. That truth didn’t bother him, but it did make him curious, how she managed to improve in such a short amount of time. She gestured to him. She planned to heal him as well.


“I’m not sure that will work. Not on these types of injuries, anyway.” And as if to answer, the last of the embers left him, the dark gashes closing. His eyes widened, relieved. He wasn’t sure if he felt healed. He couldn’t feel anything. But he looked as if he was fine. 


He looked her over once more. Incredible strength. Formidable speed. Healing wounds. She was a Jack of All Trades.


 “All I know is, you won. If that had been a real battle, I would be dead. So congratulations.” A bright smile leapt to her face as she closed her eyes and looked his way. 


He grinned. His eyes held sincerity and challenge. “You’re giving me the victory? Quaint, I’ve gotta admit. But--you know that isn’t true.”


Her mind was made up. She was hearing none of it. If her eyes weren’t closed she’d be looking right at him. A weird gesture. Like she was hiding from the world. Then again, that was quite a spill earlier, she was probably embarrassed.


 “I admit it’s my loss.” She sighed and looked to the ground, “But I want a rematch whenever you’re ready. Alright?”


He’d felt something he hadn't felt in a while, tinge his heart. Motivation. A new friend and rival. “Fine then.”

WC: 781/4094

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