Chapter 9: The Approach of a New Threat
After another hard day's ramble through treacherous forestry Squad Thirteen finally came to the town of Kateri just past noon of their second day. They'd packed up at first dawn's light and continued the march northward without a minute to spare, making good time as a result.
Kateri was a simple town home to people of all nationalities, brightly coloured and modestly furnished from north to south. No more than a few thousand lived there; Shoryu reckoned it was a similar amount to the people of his own village, yet the difference was that these people were not ninja. Being surrounded by them day after day meant that Shoryu had gotten so accustomed to them that it seemed strangely foreign to him. Up in the Village Hidden in the Clouds, around nine in ten people he saw were ninja or ninja in training. Here there were almost none; as the group of four walked through the streets he saw no headbands or concealed shuriken and kunai.
The idea of stalls and houses being placed between flat roads rather than a series of spires and rigid walkways made the boy feel uneasy. He'd become so used to having a narrow maze for a home that the wide, curving streets served to intimidate him at first.
With the festival just a few days away the town was alive with folk from all over the world who had come early to see one of the greatest markets in existence. Ayako often found herself having to duck around or push her way past a crowd of people, her smaller size making navigating the mob far more difficult. Close to an hour passed before the group made it to the town's north side, where Reizo had instructed them to stay put at the main entrance whilst he made his way back into town for supplies.
"Wind Style: Air Slash Stream!"
Finally Shoryu's technique broke the deathly silence the trio experienced, as suddenly he hopped from his perched seat of a rock and blasted off an array of wind blades sharp enough to carve a turkey. Three seconds later found him on his knees, just as Kazuya had been for the last thirty seconds. Where Kazuya appeared exhausted though, Ayako noted that Shoryu was back on his feet first. Rather than fire off another wave like the stubborn samurai, Shoryu instead opted to simply return to his rock where he withdrew the flute and whistled out an improvised melody.
"You both seem to be getting better. It's more progress than I've made anyway," said Ayako. She noticed quickly that despite Kazuya being far more naturally talented, Shoryu had devised a better strategy for training the stream technique, and as a result he'd just about taken the lead. It was less than half a second's difference though, and since neither had gotten to three seconds yet she figured it was still anyone's game.
"It's still not enough though," Kazuya insisted, getting to his feet. "Cryo Blast Stream!"
As a volley of ice blitzed its way up the northern road Shoryu wanted nothing more than to point out to Kazuya the error of his ways, since the constant repeat of that cracking, grating blast of ice had grown from fascinating to annoying fast. He knew that if he pointed out that Kazuya should practice in intervals it would do no good; even if the boy figured there was any truth to his words he'd still ignore them out of spite.
"How long did sensei say we had before the next town?" Shoryu asked, eager to set off again. Whilst Kateri intrigued him he knew the real show would be at the festival on their return journey, and the life amongst crowds didn't suit him anyway. He'd longed to travel for as long as he could remember; now that he'd experienced it, being on the road felt closer to home than the village itself. It was a feeling he knew he'd never get bored of until he'd crossed the entire land and seen everything there was to see with his own eyes. Should that ever happen, he knew for certain that his life would be complete.
"If we set off soon Reizo-sensei said we should be there by tom-"
"Cryo Blast Stream!" Kazuya's chant suddenly cut off the girl's reply. She gave the back of his head a look of obvious resentment before continuing.
"By the midday tomorrow. We'll carry on north and leave the egg at the drop point, then head straight back the next morning." She spoke quickly to ensure her speech wasn't interrupted again.
"Cool," said Shoryu.
"Who has the egg now anyway?"
"Oh, I do." Shoryu carefully lowered his pack to the floor and routed around before retrieving the oversized egg, blanketed for safety inside a spare shirt he'd packed. The boy unravelled the object and took another long look at it. It was a curious artefact, interesting enough that he found himself questioning the impossibility of its claim - it seemed far too detailed and intricate in design for a prank. It wasn't solid – he could tap it for an echoing noise, but neither was it completely hollow. Something was inside it at least, though to satisfy their curiosity and smash it would mean a failure of the mission.
"Think there's any truth to it?" he asked aloud. He voiced his concerns directly to Ayako, to his surprise though, Kazuya was the one who answered first.
"Of course not, don't be absurd."
"I hate to say it Shoryu but Kazuya's right," agreed the girl.
Shoryu shook his head. "I'm not saying that it's real, I'm just saying it might have one day been real. You know, like frozen over the ages," he explained.
"That's ridiculous," Ayako dismissed.
"Is it?" Shoryu held his ear to the faded bronze shell and once again tapped its side as if knocking on someone's door. "It definitely seems to be an egg of some kind."
"If it really was an egg then it would've hatched in ten years, and anyway there's no way to tell whether or not it's the same one Reizo-sensei and all those before him had to carry."
The boy nodded and shrugged. "Good point. It just seems weird that someone would shell out all that money for A and B-rank missions in the past just for something that's an elaborate joke."
"I hate to say it but he's got a point," Kazuya called over. "Cryo Blast Stream!"
As the samurai went back to freezing invisible foes Shoryu and Ayako exchanged looks of honest surprise: Kazuya had actually acknowledged something Shoryu had said. The boy wondered whether this counted as progress for the two of them until Reizo's return interrupted his train of thought.
Striding out of the village like a lone soldier returning from battle, Reizo carried two enormous bags of food, tearing at the seams from the strain he'd placed upon them. The man carried so much that his total arm movement was restricted to just a few inches. "Ahh," he sighed in relief as he dropped the two bags to the floor. Clearly he'd had to walk far.
"Sensei," Shoryu quizzed, voicing his partners' concerns. "Why did you buy so much stuff?"
Reizo circled his shoulders to loosen up as he explained, "Two reasons: firstly, Hilan just up the road isn't exactly known for its cheapness, and secondly for training. I'm not going to carry any of that stuff; the three of you will divide it amongst yourselves."
Shoryu's neck suddenly relaxed as his head sank in a prolonged sigh. He was already carrying more than he needed to without having more stuff to weigh him down. He gently placed the egg back in his pack before swinging it back around his shoulders, freeing his hands and arms to give him as much room as possible.
"Just one more rule," said Reizo, smiling like an imp. "Shoryu carries the most."
"What? Why me?" complained the boy. In just thirty seconds his life had gone from fine, to bad, and then to worse.
"Simple: you're too skinny. You might've gotten a little bigger since you joined this team but you'll need to be stronger to keep up with Kazuya's training."
"But I didn't even agree yet!" Kazuya cried, still having until evening to decide, though for all his insistence the qualified veteran had him pegged already.
"With 'yet' being the operative word," Reizo replied. "Now come on, we need to set off right away."
By six thirty Shoryu's arms and shoulders had been worked to complete exhaustion. Once they set up camp, simply moving his arms had become an ordeal that made him feel like he'd been lifting a house for the last six hours rather than just a few bags of supplies. A peek inside earlier in the day had proved to him what he'd suspected all along: the bags were packed with such foods as potatoes and rock cakes. For the first few hours he'd even taken solace in the fact that a large portion of his pack was occupied by the featherweight 'dragon egg' until Reizo noticed this and replaced it with only more food.
Still, the change of scenery from a dreary forest to a wide open grassland was something he welcomed. The planes of the Land of Lightning brought with them a nippy breeze that helped cool him down, a breeze that was missing amongst the giant trees of the Village's surrounding woods. The grass of a dull yellow smelled lemony in the wind, and since it never came past his ankles Shoryu was grateful that it didn't slow him down. Ponds and tiny rivers dotted the hike every few miles or so to provide a welcome den for the group to sit down and take the occasional break.
Squad Thirteen camped in the shadow of an overarching elm tree a quarter of an hour west of the main road to Hilan, atop a small and grassy mound where the ground was perfect for their tent. A small stream running past one side of the tree gleamed under the late sunlight as the sky turned a pale orange. With Reizo sensing their fatigue, the group had retired early to help set up camp and use up some of their plentiful food. By seven thirty Shoryu felt a little better; good enough to work on the stream technique at least. Reizo on the other hand had bigger plans for him. With the day's labour keeping his attention focused Shoryu had forgotten completely that if his sensei's prediction came true he'd be sparring with Kazuya soon, or perhaps he just didn't want to think about it.
He returned from a short walk with a bundle of dry wood for the budding fire and began placing them so carefully one would think he was building a home. Admiring the boy's handiwork, Reizo marched over, and with a series of four hand signs executed in blindingly fast succession the man sent a jet of translucent, silvery flame from the very tips of his fingers.
"Fire Style: White Blaze," he ordered. Shoryu only stood and marvelled at the Jonin's results as the stray twigs and broken branches he'd found lit up like a funeral pyre. He never even knew Reizo could use the fire style.
Reizo said, "That should keep us going for a few hours," and turned back to Kazuya, who sat meditating with his free time. "Kazuya!" he cried, snapping the boy back into consciousness. "It's time to make your decision. The sun will be gone in a few hours so you'd best make the most of the time."
Shoryu recoiled. Oh yeah. . . That, he reminded himself. The boy steeled himself for Kazuya's refusal - for the moment where he'd look like a fool because he was willing when the young samurai was not. He looked to Ayako and shrugged.
Kazuya finally replied, giving the answer Shoryu had least expected. "Argh, fine," he grunted. "Come on, let's find somewhere flat."
"Well don't worry about it; I'm sure you have perfectly good reasons to - . . ." Shoryu immediately paused; had he heard Kazuya right? "Wait, what?" he finished.
"I said come on, we're wasting time."
"Uhh," Shoryu managed. He looked around the camp; Ayako looked just as shocked as he did, though she smiled and beckoned him on, eager to see how this would turn out. Reizo on the other hand merely smiled with a smug look of false courtesy. He knew something about why Kazuya had accepted; that much was certain. From the very moment of its suggestion Shoryu had been flat out certain that Kazuya would refuse. He'd never even considered the possibility of a yes.
Kazuya had already started off down the sloping hill when he called back. "You coming or not?"
With eyebrows raised Shoryu looked back to Ayako for support. She only winked and pointed after Kazuya. "Have fun," she jested.
Sighing in resignation, Shoryu started after Kazuya, keeping five paces behind him as he seemed to prefer. For ten minutes the two walked across the Land of Lightning in total silence. Shoryu figured he'd seen at least three decent spots to train but he daren't tell that to Kazuya, who seemed completely focused on finding the perfect location. Eventually the pair happened upon a great elm tree not unlike the one their camp had been set up under. Here though, the ground was completely flat, and soft enough underfoot for them to run at full speed whilst being dry enough for them not to get stuck in mud.
"Here should do," Kazuya deemed. Shoryu looked around and took in a lungful of air to prepare himself, though when he looked back Kazuya had gone. Two seconds later the scraping hiss of the samurai's abilities sounded above him, followed by a snap like the brittle bones of a chicken. As he looked up Shoryu suddenly found himself face to face with a pair of falling sticks, and so he lurched back as Kazuya dropped from the tree a few feet away.
Before him two pieces of wood clattered to the grass, caked in ice at the very tips of one end where Kazuya had broken them from the tree. It was only when he looked to Kazuya did Shoryu realise what they were for. In his hand the samurai held his own, longer stick and twirled it around his fingers, checking the balance. Cautiously the boy picked up the two makeshift swords, noting that they were around the same size as his own.
"Why do you need to train with these?" Shoryu asked. "Sensei taught me the blocking jutsu they used for our examination."
"Using my own weapon sounds tempting but we'll be better off with these. I noticed a while back that the blocking jutsu softens the impact of blows a little. With these we'll feel the full force of an attack, or rather. . ." The faintest hint of a smile traced Kazuya's lips. "You will."
"Fantastic," Shoryu muttered cynically. "And why is that important?"
Kazuya smirked again, this time a little more noticeably. "So you'll have an incentive to block it next time," he said. "Now come on, let's see what you can do."
Shoryu took stance and readied both sticks, though just as he did in their last battle, Kazuya simply stood aloof and off guard. Another wave of anger seethed through Shoryu, enough to make him rush forwards at full speed and launch into an attack, slashing his first sword downwards. Kazuya sidestepped the attack as gracefully as a swaying palm tree with only minimal movement to find himself securely on Shoryu's blindside.
The boy retaliated with a turning swing of his second makeshift blade. Kazuya ducked down to avoid it so casually that he could be mistaken for inspecting a curious insect on the floor, and before Shoryu could avoid it the stinging pain of a powerful whack coursed across the back of his after the first blow Shoryu had completely read Kazuya's intentions; that attack would leave bruises the size of small fruit on both of his joints behind the knee, crippling his walking with a series of sensitive aches at every step for a good number of days. It was not an attack one would use for friendly sparring.
"I get it," said Shoryu, pushing back to his feet. "For the next hour or two you're going to beat me blue so that I'll refuse to do this again tomorrow, that way you don't fail anything and you get to keep your damn honour intact."
Kazuya finally dropped into stance as he turned back to face the boy. "That's half of it," he revealed. Before Shoryu could ask what the other half was though, the swift movement of Kazuya's wooden staff swung a powerful thrust towards him. Barely Shoryu managed to block with the edge of his first sword before a stepping kick knocked him off balance and right into the path of a second slash. This one connected with a crushing force so strong to his upper right arm that for a moment he thought it broken.
But the arm was the least of his worries. In his recoil Kazuya jabbed him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him so that Shoryu pitched forwards in agony, struggling to fill his lungs with air until a whack to the shins put him down completely.
"This is embarrassing," judged Kazuya. "We've been out here one minute and you've already gone down twice; you should just quit now."
Before Kazuya had spoken Shoryu had considered staying down. It probably would've been the smart thing to do, but he wouldn't give Kazuya the satisfaction. He expected; wanted him to give up like the good little weakling he saw Shoryu as, and proving Kazuya wrong had been the most important thing in Shoryu's life ever since he met the boy.
"You know. . ." the boy said as he found his feet. "It's a good plan that you've got worked out, making me quit. But there's just one thing you didn't consider."
"And what would that be?" Kazuya asked, humouring him.
"I'm not going to quit. No matter how hard you beat me I'd die before I gave you that pleasure," he stated bravely, falling back into stance.
For a few moments Kazuya merely stood there. His eyes found the ground and his length of white hair shadowed his expression from Shoryu's gaze, yet for the briefest moment the boy saw something; it was the same thing he'd seen just two days ago after they'd received this mission: a face of genuine happiness that seemed an odd look for him. Whether it was the pleasure of beating Shoryu senseless, he had no idea, but it still remained an intriguing sight.
"I guess we'll have to see about that!" he suddenly cried, amplifying his words with an unwarranted swing of his dummy sword. Dodging by just a hair's breadth, Shoryu snapped backwards and just out of the attack's reach before bounding forwards and stringing three consecutive attacks together. The loud clack of wood on wood resounded around the small clearing as Shoryu attacked. Kazuya blocked every blow simply by twirling the stick from its midpoint as he did his own weapon, and with Shoryu's combination out of the way he sidestepped back into a decent position.
Shoryu rolled to safety as the horizontal swing of the samurai's staff found only the traction of his chocolate wave of hair, and by the time he'd got back to his feet Kazuya was upon him again. The boy parried a pair of strikes with both edges of his sword before barely ducking a third. Kazuya's stick then levelled fast into his side before he had time to dodge; after blocking just four swings Shoryu had been convinced for a few seconds that he was getting the hang of this too.
The boy felt his side sear with pain as his wishful thinking suddenly cracked along with a pair of ribs. Another blow then connected with his face, smacking him perfectly right along the cheekbone and connecting with his ear, missing his temple mercilessly so that he felt every ounce of pain as he crashed to the floor.
Shoryu groaned. Every part of him cried out to just stop, or to get out of there as fast as he could, though his pride interfered. He got back to feet as his ear ached like a hornet sting and the inside of his mouth swilled with blood from his gums.
"You might have to hit a little harder," he said. Shoryu spat out a whole cupful of blood to the grass below. "This is starting to tickle. . . And I thought you samurai were supposed to be tough."
The hour had just struck ten when Ayako finally looked up to see Kazuya walking back up the hill, casually as ever. With the fire's range only penetrating the darkness by only a few metres she didn't see him until he was already upon them. She and Reizo suddenly stopped their conversation as he strolled into the small clearing without a word and took a seat next to the blaze. Ayako looked around, but with the night hindering her view the girl could see no sign of Shoryu.
"What, did you bury him out there?" Reizo joked.
Kazuya said nothing for a few moments. He fished around in his pack before pulling out a few crackers that they'd bought and helping himself to one. It was only after he finished the last bite that he spoke. "Almost," he said.
Ayako and Reizo exchanged looks of fear as for one terrifying second they suspected he'd actually killed the boy.
"Almost?" Ayako whispered, frightened by his suggestion. "Did he say almost?"
"Hey guys."
As Shoryu's flat monotone broke the silence Ayako breathed a huge sigh of relief. She looked back to the slope to see the faintest outline of him limping his way back into camp, though her fears returned when the light from the fire illuminated his form. Lumps, bruises and nasty looking cuts covered every other inch of his swollen arms and legs. One side of his face had sustained a foul red mark extending from his cheek to his ear, whilst the other side was burdened with an unattended graze. His left eye appeared swollen almost to a shut and a thin slash streaked across his right eyebrow. She cupped a hand to her mouth to suppress a gasp at the boy's horrifying new appearance.
Finally reaching the camp, Shoryu fell to the floor beside Ayako, with the impact of his landing causing another stream of blood to leak from one side of his mouth. Quickly he wiped it away with the already blood-soaked mess of his shirt.
"Kazuya what the hell? You could've killed him!" Ayako protested. The girl got to her feet as only a small sense of remaining reason prevented her from attacking the boy. "You call that training? Look what you did to him!"
Kazuya remained calm. "I was sure not to break anything. He'll make a full recovery."
Shoryu chuckled, exacerbating the pain in his ribs even further. "Yeah thanks for that; that was really considerate of you."
Reizo spoke up. "Kazuya, I know you're supposed to be toughening him up, but don't you think this is a little. . ." the ninja's eyes fell back to the mangled form of the barely conscious Shoryu. "Excessive?"
"Oh, this?" joked Shoryu. With a hiss of pain the boy managed to force himself to sit up. "This is nothing – just a few scrapes. Kazuya, that was an awesome training session right? Same time tomorrow?" he jeered.
Kazuya only scoffed in reply as Ayako turned back to Shoryu. "Don't move around so much, you'll only make it worse," she instructed, crouching down to inspect his mess of a face. "Is there anything I can do?"
Even in spite of sitting before a fire for several hours, Shoryu noted that Ayako's hand delicately examining the gash across his eyebrow was still silky smooth. "I don't suppose you know any medical ninjutsu?"
Ayako bit her lip, silently scolding herself for knowing nothing about healing and taking no notice of the boy's obvious jest. "I don't, no," she said.
"Then it's alright, I'll be fine. Hey Kazuya, you got an icepack?" he joked.
"Stop trying to be funny! This is serious! Look at yourself!" criticised the girl.
"Trying?" Shoryu arched an eyebrow before falling back on his wit once again. He clutched his heart in feign of injury. "Ayako, your words wound me; a hell of a lot more than Kazuya did at any rate."
Kazuya's eyes flashed in irritation at the boy's mockery. "We can always go a second round if you haven't learned your lesson."
"Bring it on tough guy."
"That's enough! Both of you!" Reizo suddenly got to his feet and stood between the two of them, sparing each a look of cold disapproval. "Shoryu, stop provoking him, and Kazuya, stop taking the bait! You're qualified ninja now, so stop behaving like children! I swear you're both as bad as each other!"
As determined as Shoryu was to get the last word he bit his tongue and bowed his head in apology. His sharp tongue was the only weapon he had that could hurt Kazuya, for now at least. Robbing him of an argument subsequently made him feel powerless, but fair was fair; he knew that they were behaving immaturely.
"Can I get a cracker at least? I'm hungry," he said. Just when he thought Kazuya's pose meant he was about to fire a Cryo Blast his way the feather-light form of the hurled cracker packet bounced off his chest. Every movement of his arms was a new sensation of pain from both carrying bags and Kazuya's brutal exercise; though the food at least tasted good, even if the sharp flakes of crackers had little mercy for his swollen and bloodied gums.
Ignoring his denial, Ayako fetched a basic first aid kit from her pack and proceeded to gently place plasters over the cuts lest they became infected. He'd openly asked her not to bother, but since she'd practically begged it of him he found that his will to refuse her had left him. He could be stubborn as a mule with Kazuya, yet with her things were different.
"I can't believe he did this," she muttered as she fixed him up, loud enough so that only Shoryu could hear. "If I'd have known he'd go this far then-"
"It wouldn't have mattered," Shoryu insisted, lamenting his misfortune. "I still would've gone out there, and I'll do it all again tomorrow."
"You're actually carrying on with this? Come on, you're a smart guy, why would you freely choose to do something like that?"
The boy looked up at her, noticing how her new shade of bright orange hair seemed to flicker under the firelight. "It's about pride," he explained. "I'll be damned if I let him get the better of me – that's just what he wants."
"And look where it gets you," she observed. "We'll be feeding you through a tube by the end of the week."
"I'll be fine; it's not as bad as it looks."
The girl let out a sigh of resignation as she realised it was fruitless to talk him out of it. Playfully she punched him lightly on the arm. "Stupid," she called him. "Sometimes I don't get you men. You're as bad as Kazuya with the whole honour thing. Did you even learn anything?"
Shoryu nodded. "Of course: for starters, don't accept training from Kazuya, and secondly, don't piss him off. He hits harder if you do."
"Right, and you seem to have learned those lessons so well."
In spite of himself Shoryu couldn't help but chuckle. She had a point after all; he hadn't truly learned anything, but in his simple optimism the boy figured that if his beatings continued he might actually learn to be a little quicker and stronger, eventually.
"We should get some sleep," said Reizo suddenly. "We've got an early start tomorrow. We should be able to reach Hilan in the afternoon."
The group nodded in understanding as Kazuya, Ayako and Reizo got up and made their way to the tent. Reizo turned back to Shoryu.
"You coming?" he quizzed.
Shoryu shook his head. "I'll be there in a minute," he explained.
Reizo placed his first finger and thumb to his chin, debating whether or not to insist that Shoryu got some sleep. The fire then crackled a light shower of sparks as another branch caught the flames, lighting up the boy's sorry state and bringing about another wave of pity from the Jonin. No matter what ordeals he went through, Shoryu seemed to always have a way of bouncing back and persevering, and after going through so much Reizo decided that a small measure of comfort was the least he could offer.
"Just don't take too long," he ordered, striking a compromise. "I don't need you wiped out in the morning."
With that, Reizo retired to the tent, leaving Shoryu out in the darkness, lying away from the fire's smoke with both hands serving as a pillow for his nauseous head.
"Way ahead of you Reizo-sensei," he muttered to himself. For fifteen minutes Shoryu simply led a few paces away from the fire, enjoying the cool breeze that blew south to caress almost sympathetically over his injuries, providing a refreshing cold that Kazuya had denied him. He told himself that the worst part of Kazuya's training was over, and even if it wasn't, he'd meet it head on with a concrete resolve.
Finally the boy got up, stifling a groan of agony with every movement of his beaten bones that cried out for him to lay still. Even so, he knew that sleeping out in the open would only give him more bruises to contend with along with the inevitable bug bites to only worsen his injuries. After one final moment of relaxation in the open wind Shoryu made his way over to the tent and ducked into the main opening.
Their temporary new home was made up of five different compartments: a large one for storage and shelter from the rain and four small pods protruding out for their individual sleeping areas. In the darkness Shoryu found his own and unzipped it, providing a dimly lit though welcoming view of his comfortable sleeping bag. As he made to step inside though, the boy suddenly found his left foot standing on something cold and wet, soaking his sock right through to the skin.
Leaning down for a closer inspection Shoryu picked up the foreign object, realising with a private laugh what it was. In front of his compartment Kazuya had left a single, now melting ice cube in mockery of his previous comment. The boy shook his head and smiled as he got into bed. Never knew he had a sense of humour, he thought to himself.
Within just the first hour of the following day Shoryu reproached himself for thinking that the previous had been difficult. Although the load had been lightened from yesterday's feast, the settled injuries from his battering made not just his arms a pain to endure, but every single joint made a creak of pain with every movement. Any time he stepped off his right leg a pain shot through his thigh, and stepping onto his left made an unpleasant clicking sound from his knee. Walking by itself was a trial without the thirty kilograms of supplies weighing him down; it may not have seemed like much to carry from an outsider, but hauling it without rest for hours at a time was made into agony for the beaten boy.
With nary a word though, Shoryu endured it, just as he had done the previous day. To make even the slightest noise or grimace of pain would mean that Kazuya was getting the better of him.
"You want me to carry some of that?" Ayako interrupted his thoughts as she walked up beside him. Today her hair was a shade of cerulean blue, far brighter in colour than the boy's dull bruises. "You look like you're in pain."
Shoryu laughed and shook his head. "What gave it away? Anyway I'll be alright."
Knowing that he'd hear no more of it, Ayako opted to leave it at that. Reizo had said that he was to carry the most, and Reizo's command was practically law for Shoryu.
The smallest piece of consolation came again for the boy with the wide open planes serving as their road and the gentle gust of wind accompanied them once again. Having never encountered such terrain before, the young ninja quickly took a liking to the rolling fields of plentiful grass and occasional wildlife, deeming this to be his favourite location.
However it wasn't long before the grass thickened into a dense, earthy carpet that squelched underfoot as the group came closer to the village of Hilan. Eventually their path shifted into a salted, gravelly road, something Shoryu was thankful for, however by that time Team Thirteen had entered a whole new locale.
Yet another forest quickly surrounded their route atop six foot banks either side of them, with its fresh pine trees rising high and casting an ominous shadow over their road. Not only was the summer sun lost in the gloom, but the trees blocked out the comfort of the wind and replaced it only by the faint rustling of leaves high above them.
Reizo assured them that this hauntingly dark path would continue only for a mile or so, yet for Shoryu it was a mile too far. The trees twisted in an odd fashion and seemed to keel over the road to create a claustrophobic sensation of a forestry prison. Worst of all, the close humidity increased Shoryu's suffering to the point where every step consumed his entire concentration and required an iron will to continue. No longer could he enjoy the breeze and let his mind wander to distract him from the pain of his injuries; now every movement required his undivided attention.
Before long his breathing slowed into laboured, heaving rasps as sweat soaked his shirt and even doused his hair to flatten the untamed brown tsunami that rested above his prised Cloud ninja headband. Occasionally he noticed Ayako flash him a look of pity out of those sparkling blue eyes of hers, knowing that it would be fruitless to offer her assistance. She worried for his health, and privately he did too.
After walking for a quarter of an hour though, Shoryu noticed something strange. Reizo briskly walked over to Kazuya some six paces ahead of him before the two gradually slowed their walk, eventually retreating back to Ayako and Shoryu.
"Alright," muttered the Jonin. "I need you three to stay calm and keep your voices down. We're being followed," he revealed.
"What?" Shoryu, suddenly freed from his half-awake daze, turned his gaze to the trees for just a single second until Reizo interrupted him.
"Don't look," he ordered. "Just keep looking forward whatever you do. Act natural."
"Okay. . ." The boy suddenly fought back the instinct to look around as his heart began to race against his aching chest. Knowing that just looking around could grant him with an early demise was maddening; the feeling of terror rivalled only by his experience in Zakari's genjutsu returned. He clenched his fists if only to stop his hands from shaking. Every breath was another inhale of dread as his stomach seemed to hollow into an empty pit.
"What do we do? . ." The trembling fear in Ayako's voice told the boy that she was on the exact same page as he was. This was supposed to be a C-Rank mission with few risks, a mission that had gone without a single hiccup for a whole decade. Why then, were they being targeted now?
"Just keep your voices down and keep doing as I said. As soon as you see me use a hand sign, I want you to get down, cover yourselves, and no matter what you do, stay put until I say otherwise."
"What if there's an imposter?" asked Shoryu, as quietly as he dared. He knew that any ninja with a half-decent transformation skill could easily impersonate the Jonin's voice.
"The password will be Raikage. If I don't say that, then you have to attack me with everything you've got, because it won't be me. Don't worry though; as long as I'm here no harm will come to you."
Shoryu gulped; the idea of attacking someone who looked just like Reizo-sensei seemed daunting, but he steeled himself just in case it came to that.
"Alright, get ready," said Reizo.
A single minute passed that felt like an eternity for the young ninja. Every instinct told him to suddenly stop and wave his hands around in surrender, though he knew that to do so could easily result in his death. He spared a glance to Ayako, who was fighting to stop herself from shaking as he was, and then to Kazuya, who appeared focused in cool determination.
No words were exchanged, meaning that the only sound came from the shivering of trees in the surrounding forest. Shoryu could've sworn he heard footsteps, though with his paranoia running wild he found it difficult to ascertain whether or not he'd imagined it. A quiet noise then echoed through the trees; a mere whisper that could've easily be mistaken for the rustling of a wayward tree.
But Reizo didn't miss it.
As fast as the very lightning he controlled the ninja whirled around in the blink of an eye as a perfectly aimed shuriken bounced away from the speedily drawn edge of his kunai. Shoryu suddenly found his heart in his throat and his hands curling around the familiar handles of his blades, yet before he could draw Reizo's hand sign ordered him to duck as fast as he could. As footsteps padded faster than the boy's heartbeat from the tree line the Jonin strung together a sequence of five seals and struck the ground hard with both fists.
"Earth Style! Rock Dome Jutsu!"
.
Author's Notes: Dayyyum – really pleased with how this one turned out, especially after I wasn't totally happy with the last.
Oh and also, to those who have ever seen Fight Club, I kind of had the scene where Tyler Durden gets beaten up by the club owner in mind when I wrote the whole 'training' section. Just thought you should know :)
So yeah, in case it wasn't obvious, fight scene next time along with a huge plot twist! Stay tuned for chapter ten!