Woohoo~ Chapter two!
Running side-by-side with his father, Yoshio kept quiet. Although he was grateful for his father carrying him, he still viewed him as a rival, and he couldn't have a rival hold this against him. "Hey dad."
"Yes? Something on your mind Yoshi?"
"Well, why did you use that Ninjutsu to capture me? Wouldn't it have been easier to use Genjutsu? It is your strong point, or so you keep saying."
"Ah, yes, well it was more fun to see the surprised look on your face. You were expecting me to do Genjutsu, but your opponent can always change their tactics." Nodding in agreement, Yoshio wondered which team he'd be assigned to. The other day they had been tested, and he had passed, but they had withheld who would be going where for today. It was information that was supposed be given with the graduation ceremony.
He hoped that he wouldn't have someone like Grimmjow. As much as the guy was an excellent fighter, he fought dirty and was arrogant. Something that Yoshio couldn't see himself working with. No. His team had to be ideal. A perfect team combination of balanced Ninjutsu, Genjutsu, and Taijutsu. With skilled practitioners who aspired to become stronger, and gain respect. Just like him.
"How has your Genjutsu been coming along?" his father suddenly asked. Surprised by the sudden shift in conversation, Yoshio simply shrugged. Out of the corner of his eyes he watched his father. What did the man want out of him? Deciding there wasn't any harm, he boasted.
"Great. I'd say that I have the most realistic abilities for it." His father didn't say anything further. He just nodded his head solemnly and kept moving forward. Frowning at the fact that his father didn't reply, Yoshio thought to go on. Bragging about how he was sure that even his father wouldn't be able to see the difference between reality and illusion.
"Don't stop training. Don't stop honing your strength, but don't forget about the other areas, too. It's a bad thing to let them slip, untrained, and find yourself dead." The boy rolled his eyes. This was just another one of his father's way of lecturing him on the importance of life. After how many talks, was the man blind that he didn't see the whole reason his son perfected Genjutsu was to have him stop being pestered?
Ever since he could remember, his father trained him in the importance of detail. Telling him over and over that the smallest detail could mean life or death. When would the lectures stop?
"I know." That was all he said as they finally breeched the forests last tree line. The sun was near its noon mark, and the clear skies gave such a refreshing scene compared to the depressingly dark canopy of the forest. The two of them jumped from the last branch and landed without a problem. Sighing, Yoshio was just thankful that his tolerance for jumps was improving. He could remember a time where small jumps off of tables were painful.
"Yoshio!" a familiar voice cried out, and his eyes darted about, looking for its owner. It wasn't long before he spotted Kotaro waving his hands and pushing his way through the throng of people. Smiling wide, Yoshio rushed up to meet his friend. The two of them clasped hands and shared a smirk.
About an inch shorter than Yoshio, Kotaro wore clothing nearly as plain as Yoshio. Black pants and a black jacket to match his jet-black hair that stood on it's own. The only other color on him was white, and that was from his equally plain t-shirt that he wore under his jacket.
"Well hello there, Inugami," his father stated as he walked up behind his son. "It's good to see you again, how does your mother fair?"
"Mr. Ishikawa," Kotaro began with a nod of respect to the Jounin, "she's doing much better. Her fever has gone down a lot, and she's back to cleaning the house like a maniac again." Releasing his friend's hand, the three of them started off towards the academy. Kotaro and Yoshio talked about what they hoped would happen for teams. Both were hoping to get in a team with each other, but if that didn't happen they hoped that Jing would be with one of them. Maybe Natsu would have been nice, too. There was a whole list of who's and who's not, but in the end Yoshio's father interjected.
"You know you should be happy to be getting teammates at all. If there's a problem with one of them you just have to make due with what you have. Such is-"
"Such is life." The two boys replied simultaneously. Yoshio's response was monotone when compared to Kotaro's; who seemed to find wisdom in them.
Smiling absently, Yoshio's father nodded. "Your mother wanted me to stay for the ceremony, but if you want I don't have to come."
Well that's nice of him to offer, but no way is he getting out of that celebration. His father wasn't fond of celebrations, and as such him and his mother saw to it to send him to them any chance they could. Turning up his nose, he replied, "Well, you can go if you want, but I'd actually like for you to be there."
"I see. Well if that's the case then I'll stay." Smiling satisfied, they continued until they reached the academy where they split up. Yoshio and Kotaro headed for their classroom, while Yoshio's dad headed for the group of parents.
Inside all of the graduates were waiting to be let out. Most wore eager grins with their new polished headbands that shone in the light. The emblem of Konohagakure stood out against the metal.
Iruka-sensei waved them over, and the two of them headed over to the desk he stood behind. "Glad you two could make it. Hurry up and put your headbands on." Pushing two metallic bands on blue cloths across the tables, Iruka-sensei smiled. As eager as the others, Kotaro and Yoshio took the bands and studied them with wide-eyes. Kotaro blinked.
"Do you have any black bands? Blue doesn't do well with my style." His comment, although serious, sent Iruka-sensei into a laugh. Frowning, Kotaro waited for him to be done, but their teacher walked away, and towards the front of the students. Yoshio smirked and nudged his friend before joining the group. Kotaro rolled his eyes and joined as well.
"All right everyone," their teacher began, "here's how it's going to work. You'll all line up to the right when you exit the building, and wait for me to call your names. When I do you come up and take the paper I hand you. The paper contains the classroom and squad number you'll be joining. Once the ceremony is over, you go to that room and meet your fellow members before your team leader joins." Most of the students nodded with understanding, others just gave blank looks – not even bothering with the simplicity of the task. "Now then, lets go!" Stepping aside, Iruka-sensei watched as his students filed out.
Outside the mass of parents, friends, and family swamped the usually open area. Two bleachers with enough room for six classes flanked a podium that stood atop a small dais. Obviously whoever had organized the thing wanted people to see all the students, as well as the person delivering the graduation speech.
Yoshio's class was to the left of the podium. Kotaro and him were the last seated as Iruka-sensei stepped out of the academy and walked up to the dais.
While the procession was slow going, Yoshio was surprised to find that he hadn't fallen asleep from sheer boredom. Iruka-sensei would give a (very) small account about the students work in school and progress, then he'd call them down where they would take the paper as instructed. "Among the few students," Iruka-sensei went on saying, "very few have surprised me in their ability to fight. Among those ranks are three boys whose skill I expected to be lower than average. The first is Inugami, Kotaro whose keen instincts remind me of the Inuzuka family," with a chuckle he added, "maybe they're related in some way." The crowd also gave a small chuckle.
Yoshio noticed his friend twitch at the comment, and also heard him mutter something about his family not being "some filthy flea ridden mutt clan." Smiling almost sympathetically for his friend he gave him another nudge, reminding him that he had to go down and receive his paper. Jumping up he gave a proud shout of joy and snatched the paper before heading towards the group of Inugami family members. All of which were wearing the same drab black as Kotaro.
"The next one I was more than surprised. To be honest I was astounded. While he made up for his lack of Ninjutsu with Genjutsu, my first thought at this next student was: 'No way…' Mainly because of some personal problems, I never expected Ishikawa, Yoshio to get higher than average marks for Taijutsu."
Hearing his name Yoshio blinked. What's he talking about? I suck at Taijutsu. Better yet, when did I take the test? Without hesitating though he stepped down from the bleachers and accepted the paper from Iruka-sensei. He could always question his teacher later. So, paper in hand he walked over to his father who practically beamed with pride. With a stifled yawn, Yoshio took a seat. Oh boy… Here it goes… His head bobbed slightly and his eyes began to feel heavy. The world around him was slowly growing dark.
"Next up is the student who scored the highest in Taijutsu. Out shining any of the other kids by far is Grim…" Yoshio's world went dark.
He didn't wake back up until his father shook him. "Yoshi, Yoshi, come on now buddy the ceremony is over. You've gotta go meet your teammates." Stretching his arms and legs; Yoshio pushed himself off his father's arm.
Groggily the boy nodded and rose. His head swiveled lightly as his emerald eyes scanned for any of his friends.
The crowd was already beginning to thin, and most of his friend's family had left. Groaning in annoyance, Yoshio looked back to his father, "Catch you later dad."
"Later Yoshi," his father replied. Ignoring the nickname, he turned away and strode towards the academy. "Aren't you forgetting this?" His father called out, and genin stopped mid-stride. Searching himself he found that his paper was missing, and once more turned to see his father, who just so happened to have it. Heading back over to collect the paper he snatched it and turned rapidly, ready to bolt for the academy doors. Only two steps away when his father's arms wrapped themselves around him. "This is from your mother and I," he stated through a false grunt of effort.
Stunned, Yoshio turned and looked up at the man in astonishment. A weak "thanks" left his lips and his father smiled. "Well don't stand there, get you going!" With a wave of his hand, his father dismissed him and sent the boy running. His son safely out of ear shot he muttered, "You keep me any longer and I can't help your mother." With that he was gone in the blink of an eye.
When he passed the doors of the academy, Yoshio pulled up short. Had his father just dismissed him without a protest? Had he been sent away like some child?
Incredulously, Yoshio sneered and looked down at the paper in his hands. With a heavy sigh he turned the paper over in his hands and studied it momentarily. Forgetting his father, the genin unfolded the paper and read it's contents.
Team five. Room 4-D.
What a boring number…
With a shrug of his shoulders he headed for room 4-D.
Pushing the door to 4-D open, Yoshio stepped in to one of the many classrooms of the academy. As he looked around he noticed that no one else seemed to be around, something he was both grateful for, and slightly disheartened. With a sigh he shut the door and took up a seat. "I wonder who all will be in my team…" Laying his head down, he closed his eyes and waited.
"Your team?" Someone suddenly stated offended. Yoshio snapped his head up and looked around again. In the far back corner, he saw someone's hand flail in the air before slamming down on the desk. In another moment the person was standing on the desk, upright, arms folded at their chest, and a smug look on their face. "This team belongs to no one!"
He was most about Yoshio's height with skin three shades darker than his own. Fiery red hair tied back into a ponytail was braided into an intricate design, and ran down towards his mid-back. Quizzically, Yoshio turned his emerald eyes up to meet cool stony gray eyes. For a moment, the genin had no idea what to say and the two of them just sat in silence. Eventually though he was able to muster up a simple, "Hello."
"'Hello' indeed!" the other replied and jumped off of the table. Unfolding his arms he pointed at Yoshio accusingly, "I suggest you remember in the future that we are a team!" Still taken aback, slightly, Yoshio remained quiet as the rant continued, "Team work is what we need, and team work is what we'll do!"
"Sorry, but who are you again?"
Stopping, the boy's eyebrow rose slightly, "I'm surprised you don't remember my name, Ishikawa. I'm Sol. Rictor Sol. You and I were in the same class."
"Sorry, I probably should have remembered that. Do you know who's supposed to be our third teammate?"
"Third? I heard we're supposed to have four. Because there are not enough students this year one was singled out, so they drew lots to see who got him. Guess who's the lucky group." A snide grin slipped over Sol's face and he leaned against the desk.
"Okay then, do you know who they are?" Sol's smirk never left his face as he nodded towards the back of the room. It took a minute, but Yoshio eventually realized that his teammate was directing him to head up that way. Rising, Yoshio ran a hand through his scruffy blond hair and hoped that it wasn't someone who, like him, had a sleep problem.
To his great relief it was a familiar face. There, lying on the ground behind a desk was a young boy in an orange-tan trench coat with tattered ends. His black hair was as misshapen as Yoshio's usually was, but from sleep and not style. Decked out in heavy black boots with metal attached to their base and metallic clasps, faded black jeans, and a black tank-top shirt was Jing.
Jing was an orphan that a Konoha-nin had found and brought back. He had no family and had no last name. He was just Jing, the Thief of Konohagakure. Smiling slightly, Yoshio bent knee and shook his friend lightly, "Jing, wake up. Come on Jing." The boy mumbled something incoherent and waved at whoever was bothering his sleep. "Jing," Yoshio started and smiled, "beautiful women and gold."
Within an instant Jing's head suddenly shot up and he had a mischievous twinkle in his brown eyes. Suddenly awake, Jing looked around and frowned, "I don't smell any treasure."
Yoshio burst into laughter. Jing yawned and sat against the edge of the desk and folded his arms, "I don't see what's so funny." Reaching out, the thief flicked Yoshio on the forehead and sent him into a small tangent of pain. His laughter faded and he clasped the throbbing spot on his forehead.
"Okay it wasn't that funny," Yoshio agreed as he pouted.
"But seriously, this is great! You and I are gunna do awesome as a team."
"You two aren't the only ones in the team, remember?" Sol's voice suddenly burst in. The two of them looked back down towards their third party member, giving him blank stares. "Myself and the fourth member are also part of the team, so don't go thinking you'll be doing everything on your own."
"Easy Sol, I was just saying that 'cause Yoshio and I are already good with working together. If we need to practice working with you and the other guy—where is he?" As if it were a summon, the room's door suddenly burst open, and when their next teammate stepped passed the threshold, Yoshio thought he was going to be sick.
