Even though Kiyomi by no means shared the passion for food or gave it any importance in her daily routine, leave alone a more erratic mission routine, she did join Meiko and the monks for their evening meal. She did so merely because she knew that Chestnut Hanasaku would be there and that would be a chance for the woman to tell them her story with this place.
Kiyomi did not really know all too much about Hanasaku. Not for the lack of common activities or time spent together but because the woman rarely, if ever, spoke of herself. Not even because she considered it a secret or anything. She just did not consider it a topic of great interest and easily grew disinterested with it. Something suggested that, given her previous interest in Seishiri the head monk and this temple, would not be the case.
The table was long and rich and all of the monks feasted together on it. There was ample space for Meiko, Kiyomi, Waiso and plenty other visitors if the occasion called for it. The table gleamed with modesty, showing off its nice-smelling and very filling-looking bowls of noodles, rice, wheat and starch, only the blandest stuff. Bread both black rice kind and yellow wheat rested in a vertical position by each bowl of noodles.
Meiko's stares attempted to swallow up this travesty towards her own dietary routines with glares that shined like dying stars. If Meiko's will was given material shape, the girl would have collapsed into a singularity and swallowed up this entire building as well as the world around it and would have felt content because that would have meant that nobody would have had to eat that ode to blandness.
"Suddenly I don't feel all that hungry." Meiko shrugged shortly after sitting down. The blacksmith leaned it towards Kiyomi, "I hope training isn't a massive disappointment as well. I bet those guys are really puny and won't make much of a training too."
Seishiri grinned, watching Meiko's disdain towards the dishes that the trainee monks respectfully dined on. It appeared that there were supposed to be separate sessions of meals with the trainees finishing their modest servings first before leaving the actual monks to feast on their dinner. After the trainees had finished eating, the other trainees working in the kitchen finally brought in the poultry, fish, shellfish and beef servings of noodles. The ones served to the guests even had some eggs in it.
"This is still pretty bland…" Meiko growled after her initial rage was carefully pinched off to a more acceptable simmering flame. "But at least it serves the purpose."
"The trainees are working on spiritual growth and improvement. Their strict vows demand of them to withhold the more intense emotions and stimuli to which category, I am afraid, tasty foods fall into. The ninja monks are expected to defend this temple with their lives against intruders, therefore, those same vows demand of them to eat strong and plenty." Seishiri explained with an accepting and defusing smile on his face.
"So… Did you ever plan on becoming a ninja monk yourself, Hanasaku-sensei?" Kiyomi asked while acting like she was interested at all in the moderate servings of noodles in her bowl and skinless duck.
"If only…" Hanasaku replied, looking at Seishiri. "I came here looking for a home, for a family because a kind man I once met told me that the ninja monks are vowed to be what the universe requires them to be to whoever is seeking for it."
"We gave young Hanasaku a home, for a while. Training and wisdom. She could not have been any farther from ever being considered into the ranks of a trainee, however." Seishiri strictly denied Kiyomi's guess.
"Was she that weak or are you guys just that strong!?" Meiko yelled out, spilling some of the soup in her noodles all over her tracksuit. Whenever surprise overcame the girl, she just acted on it, completely suppressing and forgetting anything else she was doing.
"It is not a matter of strength. Although it was here, training with Seishiro when he was just a trainee that I discovered that I was a bit… Weirder than everyone else." Hanasaku smiled with a blush, the woman did not cease glancing at her old time friend once in a while.
"Indeed, even at that age, Hanasaku could have toppled our Sealed Iron Walls which was… Alarming to say the least. It was more because of the natural and mental properties that she was just not monk-material." Seishiro cleared his throat, feeling a little uneasy about the affectionate looks from his right.
"Was it because she was a girl?" Meiko asked without any subtlety or manners, ignoring the fact that her mouth was full and her cheeks were covered in grease.
"Well… Yes. We do not accept women to become ninja monks. That being said, it was more because she was completely unreceptive to our training and showed absolutely no promise towards acquiring the Gift of the Hermits in a million years. This woman has no spiritual maturity or strength whatsoever, at least not the kind that is required." Seishiri replied.
"How not unlike someone else she keeps around…" Kiyomi made a cheap nod at Waiso before nodding with his attention on her at Meiko and her disgusting eating manners.
"She also had a nasty tendency to treat us all as her family. The other monks were brothers, some were even her sisters and she kept dressing them in her own clothes as a prank, one elderly monk was even supposed to be her father… Such emotional attachments are a hindrance to the training of the trainees, not to mention the endless reminders of celibacy that I received from my elders when Hanasaku kept jumping me and smooching me, calling me "husband"." Seishiro recalled with a smile on his face.
"So you kicked her out?" Meiko made a punching gesture as if showing off the manner in which an enraged and frustrated monk would punch a child through dozens of walls to the cold winter wind.
"The Fire Temple does not kick people looking for sanctuary out." Another monk sitting by Meiko's side butted in.
"Seishiro told me about another kind of strength I could acquire when I needed it the most. I was so frustrated with my lack of Advanced Bloodline ability that I would have taken anything. After I found out about how unreceptive I was towards training for the Gift of the Hermits, I was beginning to feel useless. Finding out about Sage Arts and Sage chakra was a new hope, a return of joy of life in my lungs…" Hanasaku revealed with a sad a longing tone that changed to a more nostalgic and melancholic one at the end.
"At that point, Hanasaku no longer needed the Fire Temple so we did kick her out," Seishiro added as a joke at the end, lightening up the mood all around the table.
Meiko and Kiyomi joined the trainees for training after the amusing to Kiyomi and disappointing to Meiko evening meal. These monks were quite odd, they agreed to all center their training around Kiyomi, almost as if they weren't training to surpass some goal, some barrier, but for the sake of training itself. If what the other monks told them before was true – they just tried to accumulate some strange spirituality scale by abiding by the routine not to beat through some predetermined wall of strength and skill.
"Yamato-san, I believe that the other trainees promised to show me some basics of the Gift of the Hermits before. Would that still be possible?" Kiyomi asked after some basic stretching out sparring sessions and warm-up.
"Certainly!" the trainees all got interested and surrounded Kiyomi and the monk she called up by name, given to her earlier this evening, to witness and aid in their training.
Kiyomi stood up straight, breaking her combat stance just to observe what her training partner would do. The monk stood in a very ordinary praying position and closed his eyes, even if she could not see or sense anything different about the man, the Yamanaka had to at the very least admire his remarkable focus at that moment.
"Well? Do you see it now?" Yamato grinned after the rest of the crew stepped away a bit, blown back by some invisible force, seemingly emanating from the trainee monk.
"Huh? Am I supposed to? I'm not a sensor, you know. Not all Yamanaka are natural sensors!" Kiyomi pulled her eyebrows.
"The Gift of the Hermits is a specific type of chakra. It requires spiritual attunement and you can see it just perfectly." Yamato informed his training partner.
Kiyomi tried calming her mind, purging all negative thought and just outright purifying her mental and bodily state with nothing but purity. A common misconception was that such concentration required a complete purging of one's mind – an impossible task. It merely required to repeat certain phrases, shuffle through certain thoughts or visualize something very specific again and again, so-called mantras.
Almost immediately after taking the training and spiritual concentration seriously, Kiyomi could perceive a golden aura shining around the monk and stretching out like some mystical, evaporating force with golden tendrils. The golden shine gleamed through the monk's eyes, nostrils and mouth as well when those orifices opened up and the monk irradiated with immense strength and concentration. Even when he took a completely neutral and safe-looking, completely open pose, Kiyomi felt hesitation about attacking this man.
He looked completely covered up and perfectly guarded in his normal stance, without even adopting any pose. Then, in a blink, it all went away. Yamato did not move an inch, not even a twitch of his fingers or his eyelids but the glimmering golden shine disappeared completely and even the spiritual pressure he was erupting with before faded away into thin air. His stance appeared just normal and very open to Kiyomi again, her instincts returned to normal.
"While it did look impressive, I can't help but wonder just how useful that is. I mean, isn't there only one Hermit Art technique known to this temple?" Kiyomi pressed her lips together before twisting their angle downward in consideration of if this spiritual light show was worth the hassle.
"There is just one that has been passed down to us by the Hermits, yes. Through the years we have added and interpreted the teachings of the Hermits to create derivative techniques of our own." Yamato nodded.
"In addition, it works just like your usual chakra augmentation as well." The monk smiled, lifting his hand up. Inside his closed clutch was Kiyomi's pouch. The blonde snickered in both awe and surprise while Yamato threw the pouch back to her so that the Yamanaka could reattach it. Kiyomi could not even see the man move, not only that, she hadn't registered the very fact that he had moved at all. No normal ninja would risk augmenting their abilities this far.
"Unlike common chakra augmentation, you do not risk breaking your entire network so you do not need to restrain yourself that much. All that you risk of losing is your connection to the Gift of the Hermits which can be regained with meditation and spiritual training." Another trainee monk amongst those that watched Yamato and Kiyomi train from afar spoke up.
"Alright. I think I'm ready to have a crack at it." Kiyomi smiled, taking a fighting stance.
"You will not achieve anything in this short amount of time. All you can do is just faint glimmers and sparks of the Gift that show you are receptive to the training. It might take years for some to even become receptive and, I imagine, you do not have that much time." Yamato explained. "Now focus, close your eyes and relax. Try to extend your consciousness and purify your spiritual side. Once your spirit is pure, your physical chakra will follow."
Kiyomi closed her eyes. She attempted to focus on a single thing but it was just too hard. There were so many stimuli on her mind, her brother, her Aku-Soku-Zan, her dislike of the Uchiha and kinship with Hanasaku, her clan matters, and complicated romantic life. She was a bundle of so many things that in the beginning it felt almost overwhelming but after reaching out and holding one, the most important constant in her grip, singling out that scorching hot emotion and filtering it from all the other confusions Kiyomi could feel it.
It felt cold, like a waterfall washing her away making her skin tingle, like millions of needles made of ice had penetrated her skin and melted exposed to the warmth of her blood. The cold was refreshing, almost soothing and a sense of calm overcame the Yamanaka heiress.
"Impressive. I'm not sure if it is your genetics or if you are just genuinely immensely talented but you are certainly receptive." Yamato nodded in acknowledgment of Kiyomi's spiritual strength. "I'd say that you could learn to tap into the Gift of the Hermits within five or so years."
"I don't have five years. Plus, I'm a girl anyway, why would you waste time teaching me your ways if you would not accept me into your ranks? I don't even think I want to be accepted here either, I have too much to accomplish on the outside." Kiyomi sighed, feeling a little glad that she did not completely mess things up like the complicated start would have suggested but she could not help but feel underwhelmed by how receptive she was.
"Ah, this generation is so quick to jump to conclusions. Everything here and now, isn't it?" Yamato smiled.
"Do not focus on trivialities like the membership to our ranks. It is merely a name. Your teacher has studied under the guidance of our elders for years, just like you could if you gave it a shot. If the Gift of the Hermits does not interest you, I can assure you that you would achieve many other heights training here so just think about it." Another trainee monk tried giving some advice to Kiyomi.
"Nicely said, Arazuchi." Yamato nodded, moving away from the circle of monks and letting Arazuchi take his place.
"That thing. About the young generation and its headlong rushing nature, I did not mean it as a demeaning thing. I admire the ability to see clearly what you need and reach out for it right now. I think there is space in this world for both approaches and that they can strengthen each other and the results they wield together. For that reason, I'd say, your training here would be especially productive." Yamato smiled.
"Shall we just spar and keep stretching out then, Kiyomi?" Arazuchi suggested.
"If you don't mind, there is a technique I just cannot work out. I have the concept and chakra manipulation all planned out, I know how it's supposed to work and, on paper, it makes sense but…" Kiyomi lingered.
"It does not come out." Arazuchi finished the sentence.
The girl did not nod or confirm it but she did not have to. It was clear that from her insecure and slightly embarrassed facial expression the monks understood what was going on with her.
"Well then, let us see this technique." Arazuchi took a praying stance.
Hesitant to try the jutsu on this monk who was every little bit as nice and understanding as he could have been, the Yamanaka prepared regardless. She placed her hands up and focused a much more intense pulse of chakra to fire off than usual. This technique was, after all, more intense and powerful than the usual Yamanaka hijutsu she used.
"Mind Switch: Art of Catastrophe!" Kiyomi shouted out through effort as the technique was decently demanding of her. With a ghastly howl, much more vociferous than ever before, Kiyomi's mental presence left her body to enter that of the opponent's. A few moments later, Kiyomi's hands weighed down, overcome with the strain of the technique while it had accomplished nothing.
"Is that it?" Arazuchi raised an eyebrow. His tone was not mocking, he merely wished to make sure that this was the entire technique as envisioned by Kiyomi's mind.
"Yeah." Kiyomi wiped her sweaty forehead. This was by far the most weariness that doing nothing has brought her.
"I am very lucky that your consciousness entered my own. It is remarkably easy to tell what went wrong when our consciousness interacted the way it did." Arazuchi smiled.
"It is?" Kiyomi wondered. Relief overcame her after realizing that in this cradle of wisdom and spirituality she could find the answer to what was tripping her over.
"Indeed. You are hesitant to set the technique off yourself. It brings up some very intense hatred from deep inside you, which makes you hesitate and despise your own technique. I could feel it seeping into my own mind. Tell me, what caused you to create this technique? Why did you think up of it and why exactly did you wish it to work this way exactly?" the monk wondered.
"Hatred? I… All the Yamanaka are supposed to invent their own hidden ace techniques. All the younglings are taught the basics but it is up to them to find out what to do with that legacy, how to write their own lines and pages into the grand book." Kiyomi fell on her bottom to get some rest and partly because she felt like sinking into the ground. "I'm the heiress to the clan. There is no longer any "buts" or "ifs" about it."
"Your lines must be the finest written and the best illustrated." Arazuchi guessed. "Hmmm, I cannot say that I really know how to aid you best. I do not know how you are feeling for your struggle is not what I have ever gone through."
"That's it?" Kiyomi raised her head up in shock.
"Sometimes, the most difficult and spiritually stimulating experience is admitting that you do not know the answer." Arazuchi nodded with a heavy pressure on his chest.
"I'd say that you despise your own creation because it seems lame to you. Unworth the time and effort it took for you to create it and maybe even your title." A different monk stepped out from the circle of monks. "Another trait of this generation is its pointless obsession with deifying its idols of the past. The fear of admitting when you have bested it and seeing your own accomplishments instead of letting them drown out in the genius of men of the past."
"So you can help me work it out? I know it is my own feelings and that I am the one who must overcome myself but, are you saying you can help me?" Kiyomi stood up, letting feeble rays of hope peek through the grim horizon just to feed the thirsty, sky-reaching leaves of her own mind.
"Not me alone. Yamato is the wisest alongside us trainees, Arazuchi has connected with you once quite deeply. I merely share some of your history, being a member of a respected clan who had left it all behind for their quest for spirituality. I believe that together we can crack the case of the Art of Catastrophe." The third monk nodded. "My name is Mikusata, let us help you overcome your pointless shame and your naive fears."
With her eyes wetting slightly in happiness and surprise of the kindness of these trainee monks, Kiyomi answered the offer with a spirited nod.
