Chapter 41: Old Man Rambling
In the outskirts of the city of Konohagakure, a lone, small house lay on a clearing, isolated from the sprawl of the shinobi village, free of it's sounds and clutter while still easily within walking distance even for one who was not a shinobi. It was for that reason that a hunched elder, carrying with himself a covered, steaming bowl, walked along the small stone path to the house. It had been a calm day, like most were for him those days, where he spent most of his time wandering about the village, visiting teahouses and telling his stories to any who would hear. After that, he went on to a quaint ramen shop, and bought himself some dinner he could take home. I'm too old to cook, you know? Specially to make ramen...you always end up with a whole mess! This reminds me of wh- he suddenly froze. Someone was following him.
"How did you notice?" his stalker said, revealing himself right behind the old man.
"You don't get to the age I do in the Shinobi business by being inattentive, you know!" he replies, chuckling to himself as he turns around to see the young voice who had been speaking to him - a young man indeed, on the cusp of adulthood seemingly, though the scars that covered nearly half his face could have very well tricked him otherwise. And at such a young age too...what a shame! I haven't seen this one around yet, however..." "Now what does a youngster like you want with good old Mr.Hopo?""
"...Told you were accepting disciples."
"Ah! Yes, I have said that quite a few times around, mhm? Well, follow me in, my ramen's getting cold while we dawdle." he joyfully replied, turning around as he began to open his door. "Come on in!" he gestured to the young man, who stood still for a moment before following him inside. The interior of the old man's house was rustic and bare, a rather unusual sight for such an old shinobi. Taking a seat on a chair as he opened his bowl of soup and began to eat, seemingly undisturbed by his presence, the man continued to talk. "Now who exactly are you, youngster? There's been plenty of foreigners 'round this village since those exams started, but I haven't seen you in any of 'em!"
"...Hanagi Ikou."
Hopo almost spit his ramen. "You're that one?!" he said, surprised. "Ah...that mask really hid you well. I was told you were deaf, but you seem to be able to talk pretty well, hm?"
"...I am. I've learned how to read lips."
The elderly man stops his meal for a moment, lightly running his fingers through his beard. Are those scars how he became deaf? That certainly changes things...I normally wouldn't care for bothering with such a troublesome student, but I've had little luck in getting any of the other youngsters to heed my advice! Damn kids don't know any respect.. He stares at the genin standing in his living room. "You know, youngster, I'm too old to learn how to deal with deaf students. I'm not too sure i'll be able to teach you much if you're not a purveyor of the ninjutsu arts, either..."
Silently, 'Hanagi' produces an almost flat wooden box from seemingly nowhere, placing it on the table. Opening it as if it were an criminal's bribe offer, he opens it, revealing a dozen distinct compartments inside, each holding a small bag. A strong, herb-like smell emanates from within the box. "Luxury Tea Leaves, from the Tea Country. I got them in a job. I heard you liked Tea." Hopo, now rather interested in the situation, opens one of the bags, taking one of the leaves and inspecting it intently. They seem to be real. "Ooh, those are certainly good...how did a youngster like you get this? Even with my retirement money I saved in my homeland, those are still a bother to get! You one of them rich clanners in your village?"
"...Yes." (He stole it.)
"Mhmm, very well, then." Taking the bowl of Ramen and tilting it up his mouth as he finishes the meal in a few seconds. He slams it down the table.
"You've got yourself a teacher, youngster!"
"Try to come straight at me with your full force. Don't hold back, I've got a lot of strength in these old bones!"
It had been one week since Hopo had agreed to take on Kitsumoto as his apprentice (or as he had identified himself, Hanagi). At the crack of dawn, he would appear on his doorway, silent as ever, an they would go on to train for most of the day and well into the night, at which point the young shinobi would vanish into the forest once more. Although the old warrior's expertise was rather focused into ninjutsu and a great quantity of his abilities were simply impractical to one who lacked his power over blood, his vast knowledge and experienced serve to aid him nonetheless.
Kitsumoto gripped his Tantō backwards, shifting into a fighting pose, as he prepared to attack his teacher. They had been training Taijutsu at his request, and the elder had decided to see his technique.
"Very well."
Energy rushing into his body, Kitsumoto burst forth, quickly closing the distance between him and Hopo before throwing an uppercut swing of his blade, one which was easily sidestepped by the old master. Dissatisfied with his failure, he forced his chakra into his body, enhancing his muscles even further as he attempted another swing, throwing his blade out without care as he jumped towards his opponent - just to meet the trunk of a tree in full force, embedding his blade halfway within as Hopo moved out of the way yet again! Yet before he could pull it out, a grip was forced on his arm, orpowering his strength! The old man had caught him by with ease, his bony hand preventing the young shinobi from moving. His face had turned to a sour tone.
"Pfeh, what are you trying to do with that kind of sloppy technique? What do they teach you kids in the academy nowadays? You think strength will come if you simply shove more energy into your body?" He rattled off, like a father would to an unruly child that had been caught in the midst of stealing a sweet from the kitchen. Yet from his gaze, he could tell that his disciple knew not what he meant of. Releasing his grasp, he returned to the table on his porch, taking from the teacup he had set down before. It was then that an idea came to his head.
"Let me tell you, youngster, about this friend I had in my old village...He loved tea even more than I did, heh, but he had no patience for it. He'd just throw the leaves in and barely boil then, and when that barely gave him any taste, he'd just smash them in instead! The whole thing would taste terrible, mhm. He'd never listen when i told him that tea tasted best when you let the flavor flow naturally... He went to pour himself another cup - only to find out his pot was empty. He turned to his trainee. "I'll be making some more tea, and you try and think over my advice, mhm..."
He entered the house, leaving Kitsumoto alone with his thoughts. "Naturally...?"
He took a deep breath, and then, slowly but surely, opened his body to his wellspring of energy, letting it flow into him, rather than forcing the chakra into himself. He looked at the tree where he had left his Tantō. It was easily several times as thick as a man's chest was wide. "That should work..."
He disappeared from his position, flickering besides the tree with ease. Within the blink of an eye, he grasped the handle of the small sword - and swung it through the trunk like butter, cleaving the mighty tree in two! The difference in strength was clear, yet Kitsumoto felt none the more tired, noting how much less stamina he had felt himself spending. As the tree fell to the ground with an echoing crash, a strange feeling began to well up inside him. Just like in that fight...It feels good to go all out.
"Now that's mighty impressive, Hanagi!"
He turned to the voice, seeing his 'sensei' returned, a steaming cup of tea in his hands. "You youngsters usually miss the point of my stories, but you saw right through it!"
"...Thanks." he replied, settling back into his motone mood.
"Since you did so good, it's now time for your next lesson!" Hopo continued
"...?"
"You're going to clean up that tree and the mess it made before the Village Police tan my hide! You begin now."
"Keep searching now. It should be...somewhere around here."
It had been two weeks since the start of their training, and Kitsumoto was making considerable progress - through his restless training and the wise advice of the retired whirlpool shinobi, the young missing nin's physical power had increased immeasurably when compared to his old self, reaching and surpassing the power he had held before his supposed death so many years ago. Now, however, his 'master' had decided that he'd not allow him to go without teaching him some manner of ninjutsu - and thus they were brough to their current situation, digging through pile upon pile of scroll, box and artefact on the rather overfilled storeroom of the old man.
"Heh, I probaly should have sorted this out sometime! When I had to move here to the Leaf, I brought all the things I had from the old village!" he said, chuckling. The Frost Genin was not so chipper. "It could be done faster if you told me which scroll you were looking for. You did not tell me." Hopo scratched his head. "Mhm, Didn't I, really? It's the Shadow Clone scroll, youngster! You should be proud i'm willing to share such a secret technique...I've never bothered with learning it myself." Kitsumoto's head perked up at the comment - he had always been interested in the possibilities of the Clone Arts, but he had never been able to steal a hidden jutsu of such value. As he continued to search however, he suddenly felt a bizarre object, covered in a rather large sheet of cloth that felt like it could have been found in the palace of a Daimyo.
"Hey, Sensei..." Kitsumoto called, using the term the old man had insisted on being referred as. "What's this?" he continued, pointing at the considedably sized object. Hopo took a look at the object, trying to find out what he was talking about.
And then another.
And then once more.
"...No idea, heh! Try to open it up, maybe I'll remember."
Taking the piece of felt, the genin unwrapped it, carefully unbinding the cover. What lay inside was a pristine yet rather exotic weapon, a long staff, easily as tall as a man's torso, it's head a long scythe-like blade, all connected to a rolled up chain that ended in an ornamented weight. It was a Kusarigama, and a big one at that. Kitsumoto froze up.
Hopo, meanwhile, began to stroke his beard, trying to remember the history of the weapon. "Mhmmm...Yes, I think I remember! That was a gift I got after saving a Nobleman's son from some creepy cult. Now that was one weird mission! I entered the country when..."
Yet Kitsumoto was no longer listening. Not since he saw that weapon. He had not seen it himself, nor did he even know of the noble that had ordered it made. But all the same, he knew that weapon oh so very well..the Kusarigama. It's been a long time since I've seen, you, hasn't it?
In my old days—before the operation that rendered me dead and destroyed that which I called life, I had wielded this weapon with pride. Even before I joined the academy...I remember how I asked my parents to buy me one! And how I cracked my nose almost immediately when trying to swing it.
He let out a small chuckle inside his mind.
Chiyoko-sensei...she certainly encouraged me. How great, she said, that she had at least one weapons fighter to teach! How many times did we stay up until dusk, learning how to better handle the chain?
It was a bright memory, of a time that had been but a few years ago yet felt like an lifetime away. A time where he had known friendship and comradery. Yet it was a time that could never return. His thoughts turned sour.
It wasn't enough for you, was it...? Perhaps if I had trained every night as well, you would have not left me to die...? Or perhaps it was simply my lack of lineage. Was what I had not good enough...? How much I would like to be a able to repay you in kind.
He was not idle for all those years - he had attempted, at first, to keep track of those he sought revenge on. Yet even Shimogakure, small as it was, was a Hidden Village, and it knew how to hide it's secrets well. It had taken him no little effort to learn that his team leader and eldest squadmate had both perished, though he knew not when.
How pathetic...you left me behind, yet you were the one to die in the end...I'd call it justice, had I not desired to be the one to bring the blade upon your neck. Perhaps when I die, we shall all meet in hell...but there is one i must invite first.
He began to tense up in anger.
HER.
Suddenly, he felt a cold hand touch his shoulder, shaking him off from his focus. It was the old man - had he been rambling on the entire time? He turned to him.
"Hey, you okay there youngster? You know, it's impolite to ignore your elders!"
"My apologies." Kitsumoto replied. "I did not see you had continued to speak."
"Ah, yes. I almost forget you're deaf sometimes...you really ought to fix that condition, you know? Lip reading's only good if you're staring at them! And if they're not wearing a mask! You know, i heard that the Miko clan from this village can bring even a dead man back to..."
Kitsumoto, losing his focus once again, turned his eyes to the weapon, before feeling the grip on his shoulder yet again.
"You want that weapon, right?" Hopo stated.
"Huh?" he said, confused by the sudden change.
"You've been staring at that thing real hard, you know? I know that kind of stare when i see it. It's the same stare as when i see...You have history with that weapon, dontcha?"
Kitsumoto didn't reply.
"You can take it! I never used the thing myself. Consider it as a gift from your sensei!"
Wordlessly, Kitsumoto turned to the weapon, running his fingers along the long metal handle. It was spartan in style despite its origins, lacking any real ornament besides the engravings on the chained weight. Taking it in his hands, he felt that its weight had purpose. "I'll have to test it out." he commented, leaving the dampness of the dark storeroom and entering the warmth of the afternoon sun.
Throwing the sign of the tiger almost effortlessly, he flickered to the arena the two had set up for training, filled with training dummies he could strike at with no issue. He grabbed the chain, letting the sickle fall to his ankles, hanging just above ground. Though it had been years since he had last wielded the Kusarigama, the weapon felt natural in his hands, as if it had been merely waiting for him to wield it.
Slowly, he began to rotate the weapon, twisting the chain around his hand as the sickle began to spin, slowly picking up speed until it could no longer be seen by the naked eye, the wild grass bending backwards from the gust of wind that it created. And then, suddenly, he threw the blade forward, swinging it in a crescent arc across the training zone. It tore through the dummies, blade cutting and chain crushing through as it wiped the entire yard in a single blow! Then, with a jerk of the chain, he twisted the sickle yet again, changing it's direction mid-turn and even farther away from him, hooking itself onto a large boulder that stood outside the house's yard. His chakra quickening it's natural flow, he gave a mighty push, and the sickle burst through the wall of stone, destroying the boulder and flying backwards and into his waiting hand as the yard was filled with dust and debris.
As he looked at his handwork, Kitsumoto felt it again, that rising ember he had felt only in the preliminary fight! He could feel the fire rise.
"This..will do."
"Alright, Hanagi. Let's finish this properly and see if you've remembered all I taught."
It was the third week of their training, and the final one before the finalists of the Chūnin exams would reconvene to fight the tournament. At the opposite end of their makeshift training area, Kitsumoto stood, idly spinning the weight of his Great Kusarigama besides him. The cold, almost robotic behavior he held when he first started was not gone - but something else now burned within.
"Alright, then. I will not hold back."
With the blink of an eye, he throws forth his hand, and the funds weight flies forth towards the old man, who easily swats if away before jumping a distance away. Taking the offensive, Hopo raises his finger, making the shape of a gun as a small bullet of dark blood forms before it - and is shot at Kitsumoto, who narrowly blocks it, sending it careening away and tearing a clean hole through several trees before finally stopping it. The young shinobi charges, flickering as he moves into a jumping charge towards his teacher, swinging downwards only to find him already gone. The old man, standing proudly on the roof of his house, begins to chuckle.
"Heheheh, still acting like yoh can't catch up to an old man? You shouldn't lie to your elders just to spare their feelings, youngster!"
Kitsumoto stared at him. He's more perceptive than I thought...
"Very well."
Taking a deep breath, Kitsumoto focused as his chakra began to cycle inside him, entering and leaving his body as it began to form around himself. The common white aura of Taijutsu that was around him soon began to darken and burn, as if his very body had been tainted by the hatred that infected his soul. A deep blue aura of blazing acid formed at last. He had entered Chakra Mode!
"Now that's more like it ki-"
His compliment was cut short as the genin all but appeared besides him, surging with such speed that it looked as though he had used the Flicker Jutsu! Hopo himself surprised, he had time to do little more than to raise his arm in defense as he was met by the blunt side of the sickle, the hit launching him towards the ground with its force. Deftly turning to fall upon his feet, the elder skid across the earth, dirt thrown as his leg dug into the soil. Kitsumoto charged once again, jumping head on from the roof into a collision path with Hopo. He prepared for a falling strike! Old Man! Take this blow and prove my power! He swung down, only to be surprised by a sudden stop. Hopo, surrounded by dark blood, had stopped the sickle with his bare hands!
"That's quite impressive, Hanagi!" he said, his face full not of anger but of joy as he let his aggressor harmlessly land at the ground. "If i hadn't used my blood, that would have left quite a nasty scar!"
"If." Kitsumoto replied, somewhat disappointed at how easily he had been stopped.
"Now there you youngsters go, feeling all glum if you can't beat a master one month into your training..." Hopo stated, sitting cross-legged amidst the grass. "It used to be you'd have to train for years to achieve that kind of skill with a hidden jutsu like chakra mode, and you got it in a few weeks! Your potential is pretty scary, Hanagi."
"...Thanks"
"Well now, I think i've earned a little rest. You ought to be ready for the tournament. Come by again if you ever want to hear some more stories, heh?"
"I shall." That was a lie.
Kitsumoto turned, preparing to leave, before stopping for a moment.
"By the way...my name is Kitsumoto."
"Say what now?"