Chapter One, Endless Training
Frostbite was Sunoku's main worry as he climbed the mountain. His fingers were aching like hell, but he continued to climb. Besides, he knew that as long as he could still feel his fingers, they weren't in any immediate danger. It wasn't as if he had a choice in the matter, anyway. Sunoku knew that if he didn't get to the top of the mountain to meet his instructor, then he would be in serious trouble. He tilted his head upward, ignoring the wind blown snow in his face; he could just make out the top of the mountain, where there was a small hut with smoke rising from the chimney. 'Almost there, now,' he thought.
The sun began to set behind the mountain, it's fiery beauty casting orange light on the horizon. Sunoku had niether the time nor the care to watch this beauty; he only continued to climb, urging himself on. Soon the mountain was shrouded in darkness, making it difficult for Sunoku to perceive more than a few feet in front of him. He lost his footing more than once because he couldn't see the handholds properly. Finally, when it seemed he would freeze or fall to his death, Sunoku reached the top of the mountain. Pulling himself up onto the flat ground, he practically collapsed on the mountaintop.
A sharp pain erupted in Sunoku's side, making him roll over and grunt, his eyes still tightly shut. Another jet of pain in his side, this time Sunoku jumped to awareness, finally realizing the danger of what had happened; he had fallen asleep on top of the mountain. He looked around to see a man standing over him. The man was tall and muscular, holding a long walking stick in his left hand. A third jult of pain hit his side, but this time Sunoku was able to see what it was. The man had been poking him in the side with his walking stick. Sunoku had almost missed the motion of the stick, for it was done so swiftly. He stood up quickly, brushing the dirt off himself.
'Good thing It's still dark,' he thought, looking around the mountaintop. 'I couldn't have been out more than a couple hours.'
The man spoke up, finally. "It isn't wise to fall asleep out here. Especially, when you have important business to attend to." his voice was deep, but not unkind.
"Important business? How did you know...," Sunoku trailed off.
"Because," the man started, "I've been expecting you. Sunoku, right?"
"Y-yes," he stuttered, growing nervous.
The man extended his right hand. "You may call me Banjo. I'll be your instructor for the next... hmm, how old are you?"
"Twelve years old, sir."
Banjo sized the small boy in front of him. "Twelve. That sounds about right. As I was saying, you'll be my student for the next eight years. Come inside, let's see if we can get you some tea."
Sunoku shouldered his pack off the ground and followed Banjo into his hut. The first thing that he noticed was the warmth, after being outside in the cold for so long. Next, he noticed the aching all over his body. What had been numb before, was beginning to gain feeling. Banjo gestured for him to sit down at a small wooden table. He set his pack on the floor and sat down, rubbing his hands together. Sunoku removed his coat and hat, placing them on the floor. He watched as Banjo put on a kettle of boiling water. His thoughts began to drift off to something else; he was back at home, in the Village Hidden in the Light.
He was lying in bed, listening to the sounds coming from his parent's room. They were fighting about something that he didn't quite understand.
"We can't send him away," his mother sobbed, "He's too young."
"Yes," his father said, angrily, "We can. Sunoku is twelve years old, it is time he be trained. These are dark times, Mel, he needs to be trained properly so he can defend himself."
'This doesn't sound good,' Sunoku was thinking, 'Why would they want me to be sent away... to be trained?' He strained his ears, concentrating on what they would say next.
"I know, but...," his mother faltered, began to cry hysterically.
"Calm down, Mel! You'll wake him," his father hissed.
After that their voices were nothing but soft mumbles in the night and Sunoku soon found himself drifting off to sleep.
The memory faded and a new one arose in his mind. It was the next day. Sunoku was getting ready for school, when his father approached him.
"Son, we need to talk."
"About what, dad?" he was worried now, after what he heard last night.
"You have to go away... for a while," his father started, "There's not much time. Just listen to what I have to tell you..."
Sunoku snapped back to reality as a cup of steaming tea was set in front of him.
"So," said Banjo, sitting down at the table. "Let's discuss why you're here. As I'm sure you know, there's a war going on between the Village Hidden in the Light and the Village Hidden in the Shadows. This war has been going on for years and probably won't end for years to come. You're here so that I can teach you the skills you'll need to survive in the midst of this war. Now, you should get some sleep. I will be waking you at dawn every morning."
Banjo showed Sunoku to his room and bid him good night. Sunoku put his things away and went to sleep immediately, the climb up the mountain having sapped his strength.
True to his word, Banjo woke Sunoku at the crack of dawn. He was handed a ninja uniform, including a face mask covering his mouth and nose.
"I expect you to always wear your uniform. It was spun from the strongest fibers you'll ever see. Such a durable uniform should last you years," Banjo explained.
Sunoku changed into his uniform, letting the facemask hang around his neck. He followed Banjo out to the back of the hut, where there were five extremely tall and thin wooden poles sticking out of the ground. Banjo explained that he was to climb to the top of the tallest pole and balance on it, until he came back for him. His instructor then walked off, leaving Sunoku alone and very curious.
Climbing to the top of the pole wasn't very difficult for him, but once he reached the top, he realized that he would only be able to fit one foot on the pole. So, he stood on the pole with his right foot, waiting for Banjo to come back. Hours passed and still there was no sign of Banjo. When one leg grew tired, Sunoku would switch to the other leg, ever so quickly so as not to lose his footing and fall.
The sun began to set and Sunoku wondered if Banjo would ever come for him. 'Has he forgotten that I'm out here?' he wondered. 'No, that doesn't seem likely.' If he was getting doubts while the sun was setting, his doubts only increased as the darkness enveloped him. Still, he continued to balance on the pole, moving only to switch legs every hour or so. He stayed up late into the night waiting for Banjo to come and tell him he could come down. This never happened. Sunoku would have never thought it possible, but he woke up the next morning, still standing on the pole; he had fallen asleep, continuing to balance in his sleep. To this day, Sunoku couldn't help but wonder how he did it.
It was three more days of this non-stop balancing, before Banjo came for him. Hunger gnawed at Sunoku, his stomach begging him for food that he didn't have. But still, he had stronger will power than he thought and continued to balance. He would balance until Banjo came for him or die waiting. Sunoku's head jerked down at the sound of footsteps. He watched carefully as Banjo approached. The man walked over to the front of the pole and pointed his head upward.
Cupping his hands around his mouth, Banjo yelled, "Hey, you up there! You can come on down now!"
There was a moment of silence, where Sunoku didn't react, still contemplating Banjo's words. He briefly considered jumping from the pole to the ground, but thought better of it and began climbing down it. When he reached the bottom Banjo was looking at him strangely.
"Excellent. You've passed," said Banjo, after a moment.
"What exactly was the point of this?" Sunoku asked slowly, thinking of how tired he was now.
"To see you if would stay. To be honest, I didn't expect you to last that long, but it seems you've got a strong will power," he said, thoughtfully.
Sunoku didn't say anything, he only followed Banjo inside the hut and passed out on the soft mattress. The next morning Sunoku ate ravenously, until his stomach was sufficiently stuffed.
"Alright. I've got an important assignment for you today," started Banjo, "Climb to the bottom of the mountain and cut down a tree into logs. Bring the logs back to the top of the mountain and I'll tell you your next task."
Sunoku was handed a sharp woodcutting axe and sent off. He climbed down the mountain as fast as he could without falling or otherwise hurting himself. By the time he reached the bottom, he had to stop and rest. Finding a tree wasn't difficult, considering there was a forest right by the mountain. He picked a medium sized tree and began chopping at it vigorously. The tree fell finally after a good half hour of chopping, by which Sunoku was soaked with his sweat.
He cut the tree into logs and tied them in a bundle. If Sunoku thought climbing the mountain was hard the first time, this time it was near impossible. He was forced to hold the logs in one hand and climb with the other. This time, he stopped a few times, on the mountain, to rest. Banjo was waiting for him by the edge of the mountaintop, when he finally made it.
"What took you so long?"
"Huh?" Sunoku wiped the cold sweat from his brow.
"You've been gone over an hour. I expected you to be faster than this," Banjo said, disapprovingly. He took the logs from Sunoku, then continued, "Anyway, your next task is to find me a special flower. It is called the Frangrant Bubble flower. There are few of them on the mountain, but if you search well enough, you should be able to find one. It has a very distinct look, with violet petals. Now, begone. And try to make it faster this time around."
Sunoku nodded sourly and ran off. He soon realized just how vast the mountain was, and finding the flower would be extremely difficult; even if it 'has a very distinct look' as Banjo said. 'And to make matters worse, I'm on a deadline' he thought, picking up his pace. Sunoku stuffed his pockets with a variety of different flowers, just to be sure. Few of them were even violet, but he would take no chances.
A flash of violet whirled past his vision. He stopped, alert. He narrowed his eyes, staring directly at the flower. 'That has to be it!' his mind screamed. Bending over, Sunoku carefully plucked the flower from the ground and put it gingerly in his pocket. Excited with his quick find, Sunoku sped back to the hut to find Banjo lounging around smoking a pipe.
"I found it, Banjo!" Sunoku exclaimed, holding the flower up.
"Very good. You've done well," Banjo took the flower, "But you aren't finished yet..."
Sunoku stood outside the hut, blowing into the outside fireplace. His lungs were burning him and he was finding himself very short of breath. But he continued to blow into the flames, keeping the fire alive. 'What the hell am I doing all these ridiculous things for, anyway?' Sunoku wondered. Banjo came outside with a towel wrapped around his waist.
"Great. You may stop now. I'll be in the bath now that the water is warm," Banjo said.
"What!?"
"I'll... be in the bath."
"You made me do all this so you could take a bath!?"
"Yes. Now shut up," said Banjo, hitting him over the head with his walkingstick and walking inside the hut.
"Sunoku, you've made a lot of progress in these last few months, but it's not enough. You need to have your reflexes fine tuned. These is a trainer down the mountain, hidden in the forest, near a river. He can give you the tranining you need," Banjo said, one day, "I can't tell you how long you'll be training with him, because that depends on you. But I can say, when you are finished with your training, come back here and I will continue to teach you."
Not sure what to say, Sunoku nodded.
"When will I leave?" he asked finally.
Banjo gave him a curious look, before poking poking him in the chest with his walking stick. "Now," he said, pushing him off the mountain.
Sunoku hadn't been expecting this and didn't have the reflexes to catch himself. He continued to fall straight down, until the tree branches began to slow his fall down. Standing up shakily, Sunoku brushed off his clothes and went searching for his new teacher.
He bounded through the forest, in search of a house or hut. Finding a river, he followed it until he saw smoke coming from a tall tree. He approached the tree, looking up to find a large tree house. He screamed up at the tree house a few times, with no answer. A rock flew out of the tree, hitting him in the forehead.
"What the hell?" he swore, as he was knocked backwards.
A man appeared right beside him, dressed in shabby clothing.
"What the hell?" the man mocked, "What the hell do you want?"
"I want a teacher."
"Well, you're not going to find a teacher here," the man said, dissapearing.
Sunoku sat down by the tree and leaned against the trunk. He didn't leave this spot for three days, when the man appeared again.
"You're still here?"
"Until you teach me," came his response.
"You'll freeze to death if you do that, kid," the man said, grabbing Sunoku by the arm and throwing him up into the tree house.
Stirring their dinner, Sunoku grumbled about how he was wasting his time. 'Why am I doing this if he won't even teach me?' he wondered. Just then, he was smacked on the top of the head with a stick.
"Ouch!" Sunoku exclaimed, turning around to see his 'teacher'.
The man gave him a hollow look and walked away as if nothing had happened. But Sunoku was getting used to this; if getting hit on the head with sticks was training, he would be fully trained by now.
That night after the two had eaten dinner and were supposed to be asleep, Sunoku decided he would get some revenge on the man who called himself a teacher. He slowly got out of bed, lifting his pillow in his two hands. Creeping slowly and carefully across the room, he walked to the man's bed and held the pillow above his head, preparing to flail it downward. The pillow crashed down, hitting an empty matress. 'Shit' he thought, creeping back to his own bed. Lying down, Sunoku bumped into the body of another; it was the man! He was pushed off the bed by the man.
"Go get some sleep," the man said.
Sunoku placed his pillow on the cold, hard, wooden floor and lie down to sleep. 'Damn you' was his last thought, before he drifted off into uncomfortable sleep.
Over the next few weeks, Sunoku was battered all over by the man's sticks. He had welts on his shoulders, on his arms, on his head, on his back; bruises on his face, on his chest. Sometimes the sticks would break in half over his newly muscled body, but the man would only take one of the hundreds of sticks propped against the wall. His only duties were cooking dinner every night, gathering fire wood, and taking his random beatings without objections. Sunoku soon created his own workout program of sorts, to keep himself from going insane. He would do push ups, sit ups, and pulls ups, every morning and every night.
One day some weeks later, Sunoku was stirring their dinner, when it happened. His arm seemed to move of it's own accord, grabbing the lid of the pot and shooting behind his back. There was a loud clang as wood met metal; Sunoku turned around, in shock. The man stood behind him, holding a wooden stick still in place.
"Your training is complete," the man said dryly.
"What training...?" Sunoku asked. Realization hit him; images of the last months flashed before his eyes. He had been being trained all along, trained so that his reflexes were natural. And that is exactly what had happened. Sunoku had blocked the wooden stick, without even thinking about it.
"You may go now," the man said, walking off.