Prove you belong at the top of the heap does not mean win. It means what it says, Prove you belong in the top of the heap. How? By displaying a level of skill in all ninja arts we have been taught. There is exactly nothing telling us that winning this fight gives us the ROTY.Uhhh...
"Secret success condition three: prove you belong at the top of the heap."
...yes it is necessary to win here.
Remember to tag omakes for next time. It makes it easier for Vesvius to check....I apologize in advance, but this popped up in my head after my last post and required an exorcism. Name is "Whatever It Takes."
You consider Sasuke from the moment you meet his eyes until the moment Iruka announces the beginning of the fight. This, you know, is the real thing: the fight worth all the marbles, the culmination of months of effort toward seizing Number One.
Every other member of the class, you know: between your own matches and their fights with others in the class, every advantage and inadequacy in their burgeoning styles have been rapidly laid bare. You don't have that advantage with Sasuke, not any more than he has it with you, because you're both too good. For all that others might be better in other aspects, the two of you are specialized in direct combat--if you fight with your full strength, academy fights end too quickly for you to learn much. With the dissolution of the Games among your four friends, and with your renewed focus, that gap has only grown.
So the two of you have compensated: you fight without your sword, or use only one hand, or don't use your feet, even as Sasuke doesn't use tools or traps. You use your genjutsu, or work in extra practice with the Academy Three, or put a little extra effort into tools, always working to draw an extra lesson out of opponents who can't match you. You're not sure which of you two had the idea first, but at some point it became such a habit that not even your matches against Sasuke were ever entirely all-out.
"No limitations," he says, as if to echo your thoughts. Perhaps the two of you really do know each other, after all this time. "We both use whatever we can and go all out. First one to submit or fall unconscious loses."
The novelty of the match to come draws out a smile even as you throw your mind into overdrive. What tools do you have? What strength is still in reserve? What won't even he expect of you? You search for every time you've seen your 'rival' surprised, or upset, or otherwise off-balance, and--
Wait. If you could side-eye your own brain, you would. Why did you think of that? Sure, it certainly broke his facade of cool composure, but--it's not like you have the luxury to use that in combat, do you?
'So don't' would be the response, you think, if someone else were to make that objection. You can still make a move before he closes the distance.
But you don't have expertise, would be the objection, except you do, because your mother loves you far too much to deny you any advantage she could give. You have all the equipment you'd need, as well. You have an audience, otherwise an impairment in combat, an obstacle to the most direct and obvious application of the strategy but an advantage to more indirect applications... And you do take after your mother, in certain easily apparent ways.
You waver up until the moment the words 'boss fight' appear. Your mind races through the implications (bosses in games are never directly comparable to player characters, previous assumptions of his strength may be newly invalid, at worst the world itself might be on his side), and--
You remember Tokei. You remember the last time this world used those words. Perhaps the memory of his grim resolve, and of your own, breaks the tie.
As Iruka brings down his hand to announce the beginning of the match, you raise yours.
"One moment," you say with an easy smile, your free hand rising to your chest. With a mouth motion, you remove your kote, then your jacket. Your words caught the attention of most of the rest, and they watch--
(There are no Academy rules regarding required armor. Sparring loosens dress decorum rules still further. Men can go topless without issue.)
--as you twist out of your shirt, folding it neatly on top of your jacket. You throw them lightly underhand to Ino, securing your kote once again with easy familiarity.
(Out of the corner of her eye, you see Ino look at you, her eyebrows slowly rising, before you see her suppress a grin. She knows you, too.)
"Pardon me," you say, meeting Sasuke's eyes, as you change your posture in little ways that send lean muscles rippling and emphasize the well-worked lines of your body. "This match may get a bit... hot. It would be such a shame if I were to ruin my nice clothes with you, hmm?"
You raise your folded fan, tapping it coquettishly across your lips in a little gesture you learned from Mother.
(She ignored your protests with a fond smile, resting her hands on your shoulders. "Daisuke," she said, in that faintly exasperated way all parents could speak to their children, "my concern is not yet that you will have need to manipulate salesgirls--but rather that they will always seek to manipulate you. There will be those who are young, and beautiful, and otherwise poor in all ways that matter, and your beauty speaks of comfort and prosperity. They will wish to borrow that from you, and so you must make sure such borrowing can never become theft."
Her eyes crinkled as she leaned down, kissing you lightly on the forehead.
"And perhaps you will meet someone as young and more foolish. You know of how little shifts in your footwork can help you fight with greater strength and speed, yes? Let me teach you the stances of my battlefield.")
You wink, just to drive it home. Sasuke flushes, and there's scattered catcalls. Sasuke glares at them, but numbers make them bold, and not every member of your fanclubs shrinks back.
"That was a one-time experiment," he says, brusquely, and you laugh. The fan snaps open, its wide surface still hiding your mouth from view.
"My, my, Sasuke," you coo. "Whatever did you think I meant? I didn't know you were still dwelling on that, even after all this time. I'm afraid you're not my type, but... Perhaps you could yet change my mind? I'm sure you're in quite a rush to, ah, tie me up with that wire of yours. Whatever will you do if you have me at your mercy?"
His mouth works faintly, his flush deepening, and only the fan hiding your mouth keeps you from cracking up... But judging from the tightening lines of his mouth, he reads your amusement in your eyes. "Enough," he says shortly. "You'll regret your mockery soon enough, Satomura."
"Oh, yes, do punish me, Sasuke," you say breathily, and that's when he charges you.
Well. If nothing else, you managed to make him angry. Good job?
- Sasuke isn't stable...like at all, too much inferiority, overconfidence, hate, fear might push him over the limit.
Sasuke has very little in the way of genjutsus.
A rejection of Itachi?
....I shouldn't enjoy this. But god help me I do. Take 70 XP and.... yeah, take canon.I'm going to vote tomorrow when I've got time to think but meanwhile, I've done an omake that quickly got out of hand. Fangirls in naruto are creepy.
"This meeting of the Daisuke Rules, Sasuke Drools club is called to order! Club President Tsuda Akari presiding!"
"Thank you, Secretary Ami."
You look over your assembled comrades in arms. These past few days have been arduous and full of strife. First came the assault by the Sasuke fan club, intent on disrupting your meeting. Then the Boy's Love faction attacked. They advocated peace and friendship while holding a knife behind their back. Daisuke would never betray her by falling for that damned Uchiha's wiles!
Still, your club has grown these past few days, now reaching 14 full time members. Soon you'll outstrip stupid Tsuki's club and Daisuke will be the uncontested King of the Classroom.
"I would like to start this meeting by addressing yesterday's mission. Agent Kasumi, report!"
You sit back down in your chair and the ginger haired girl confidently steps forward and addresses the crowd.
"As you all know yesterday class A held a Taijutsu tournament. There, I executed a cunning plan which resulted in me gaining this!" Kasumi triumphantly holds up a dishevelled towel and you barely hold the urge to bolt towards her and snatch the priceless artefact from her hands.
"After engaging in multiple spars, Dai-kun took a short while to rest which is when I offered him this towel!" The crowd leans forward, everybody holding their breath. "He then proceeded to wipe his face with the towel and said, 'thank you'!"
She releases a squee and holds up the towel to her face, making sure to breathe Dai-kun's musky scent. You can't fault her for such as you did the same when she presented you with it last night. The members of your club all stride forward and a short scuffle erupts, with everyone trying to get a hand on your sacred treasure.
"Order! Order! You shall all have a chance to hold it! Order!" The girls calm down and Fuki passes down the towel. Ami is the first to receive it and doesn't even attempt to restrain her shudders. The object quickly passes from hand to hand and soon reaches your Wall of Treasures where it sits with Dai-kun's coat (skilfully recovered by yours truly), a silver lock of hair (cunningly retrieved by Kyoko) and an empty bottle of water (shrewdly acquired by Miki).
"Next subject: our weekly Art contest! If you would all present your drawings!"
The judging panel consisting of yourself, Secretary Ami and Vice-President Kyoko stride through the room, studying each piece of artwork and offering constructive criticism. You pause when you reach Shirai Kairi's section and are pleasantly surprised when there's no evidence of the dastardly Uchiha's presence in any of her artwork. Truly she is skilled. You might need to take some of the artwork home, to properly judge it. Yes… your gaze is locked onto a picture of a shirtless Dai-kun sharpening his sword when you're alerted to a shout by your right.
"What is this!?" Ami shrieks. She seems to be facing one of your new members, one Sasagawa Aiko, from the year below yours. You inspect the drawing only to sharply dart your head away. You must not lose your temper, your new member has clearly not had the rules explained to her. You hesitantly turn towards her, flinching at the image of that Uchiha holding Dai-kun (look away!).
"Dai-kun isn't like that!" You descend back to earth in time to hear Kyoko chastising the naïve girl. "He's the pinnacle of beauty, of manliness, he would never fall for that man!"
"You don't know what you're talking about." Did this girl just talk back to your Vice-President? Is she defending the abomination she brought into your clubroom?
"Daisuke-kun is a delicate rose. He is soft, yet deadly. He's a foreign prince from a foreign land who must be nurtured and held under Sasuke's strong warm body." Her preposterous babble leaves you speechless. Nobody dares breathe. Suddenly, you're gently nudged away as Kairi steps forward.
"You're wrong." She whispers. "Daisuke is a warrior used to battle, blood and death. He is strong and unyielding. Only with Sasuke can he wind down and show his true gentleness. Sasuke soothes him and gives him warmth. Daisuke gives Sasuke protection from the evil world and shields him from his terrible past. Only with Daisuke can Sasuke truly forget his trauma and find peace."
You are struck speechless by the elegant way she described your beloved and choose to ignore the rest of her speech. The rest of your comrades don't contain themselves and hurl insults at Aiko.
"Yeah, what she said!"
"Sasuke is just a stupid uke! It's even in his name!"
"Doesn't Daisuke have it in his name as well?"
"Shut up, Rika!"
Sasagawa Aiko's hand trembles and she collects her drawings. She dashes out of the classroom, dropping half of her papers. They scatter throughout the air and spread across the village. Peace returns to the clubroom.
"Well done, Kairi. Welcome to the club." You congratulate your club's suddenly most popular member. She greets you with a smile you can barely spot through her hair.
--------------------------------------------------
NEW QUEST!
Gotta Catch 'Em All
Scattered throughout the village are numerous drawings of yourself in compromising positions with Sasuke. You must quickly dispose of them before anybody encounters one!
Unlock Condition: Gather all 69 SasuDai drawings.
Reward: ???
Status: Locked
You, however, most assuredly do not get canon. But you do get 50 XP and a solid belly laugh....I apologize in advance, but this popped up in my head after my last post and required an exorcism. Name is "Whatever It Takes."
You consider Sasuke from the moment you meet his eyes until the moment Iruka announces the beginning of the fight. This, you know, is the real thing: the fight worth all the marbles, the culmination of months of effort toward seizing Number One.
Every other member of the class, you know: between your own matches and their fights with others in the class, every advantage and inadequacy in their burgeoning styles have been rapidly laid bare. You don't have that advantage with Sasuke, not any more than he has it with you, because you're both too good. For all that others might be better in other aspects, the two of you are specialized in direct combat--if you fight with your full strength, academy fights end too quickly for you to learn much. With the dissolution of the Games among your four friends, and with your renewed focus, that gap has only grown.
So the two of you have compensated: you fight without your sword, or use only one hand, or don't use your feet, even as Sasuke doesn't use tools or traps. You use your genjutsu, or work in extra practice with the Academy Three, or put a little extra effort into tools, always working to draw an extra lesson out of opponents who can't match you. You're not sure which of you two had the idea first, but at some point it became such a habit that not even your matches against Sasuke were ever entirely all-out.
"No limitations," he says, as if to echo your thoughts. Perhaps the two of you really do know each other, after all this time. "We both use whatever we can and go all out. First one to submit or fall unconscious loses."
The novelty of the match to come draws out a smile even as you throw your mind into overdrive. What tools do you have? What strength is still in reserve? What won't even he expect of you? You search for every time you've seen your 'rival' surprised, or upset, or otherwise off-balance, and--
Wait. If you could side-eye your own brain, you would. Why did you think of that? Sure, it certainly broke his facade of cool composure, but--it's not like you have the luxury to use that in combat, do you?
'So don't' would be the response, you think, if someone else were to make that objection. You can still make a move before he closes the distance.
But you don't have expertise, would be the objection, except you do, because your mother loves you far too much to deny you any advantage she could give. You have all the equipment you'd need, as well. You have an audience, otherwise an impairment in combat, an obstacle to the most direct and obvious application of the strategy but an advantage to more indirect applications... And you do take after your mother, in certain easily apparent ways.
You waver up until the moment the words 'boss fight' appear. Your mind races through the implications (bosses in games are never directly comparable to player characters, previous assumptions of his strength may be newly invalid, at worst the world itself might be on his side), and--
You remember Tokei. You remember the last time this world used those words. Perhaps the memory of his grim resolve, and of your own, breaks the tie.
As Iruka brings down his hand to announce the beginning of the match, you raise yours.
"One moment," you say with an easy smile, your free hand rising to your chest. With a mouth motion, you remove your kote, then your jacket. Your words caught the attention of most of the rest, and they watch--
(There are no Academy rules regarding required armor. Sparring loosens dress decorum rules still further. Men can go topless without issue.)
--as you twist out of your shirt, folding it neatly on top of your jacket. You throw them lightly underhand to Ino, securing your kote once again with easy familiarity.
(Out of the corner of her eye, you see Ino look at you, her eyebrows slowly rising, before you see her suppress a grin. She knows you, too.)
"Pardon me," you say, meeting Sasuke's eyes, as you change your posture in little ways that send lean muscles rippling and emphasize the well-worked lines of your body. "This match may get a bit... hot. It would be such a shame if I were to ruin my nice clothes with you, hmm?"
You raise your folded fan, tapping it coquettishly across your lips in a little gesture you learned from Mother.
(She ignored your protests with a fond smile, resting her hands on your shoulders. "Daisuke," she said, in that faintly exasperated way all parents could speak to their children, "my concern is not yet that you will have need to manipulate salesgirls--but rather that they will always seek to manipulate you. There will be those who are young, and beautiful, and otherwise poor in all ways that matter, and your beauty speaks of comfort and prosperity. They will wish to borrow that from you, and so you must make sure such borrowing can never become theft."
Her eyes crinkled as she leaned down, kissing you lightly on the forehead.
"And perhaps you will meet someone as young and more foolish. You know of how little shifts in your footwork can help you fight with greater strength and speed, yes? Let me teach you the stances of my battlefield.")
You wink, just to drive it home. Sasuke flushes, and there's scattered catcalls. Sasuke glares at them, but numbers make them bold, and not every member of your fanclubs shrinks back.
"That was a one-time experiment," he says, brusquely, and you laugh. The fan snaps open, its wide surface still hiding your mouth from view.
"My, my, Sasuke," you coo. "Whatever did you think I meant? I didn't know you were still dwelling on that, even after all this time. I'm afraid you're not my type, but... Perhaps you could yet change my mind? I'm sure you're in quite a rush to, ah, tie me up with that wire of yours. Whatever will you do if you have me at your mercy?"
His mouth works faintly, his flush deepening, and only the fan hiding your mouth keeps you from cracking up... But judging from the tightening lines of his mouth, he reads your amusement in your eyes. "Enough," he says shortly. "You'll regret your mockery soon enough, Satomura."
"Oh, yes, do punish me, Sasuke," you say breathily, and that's when he charges you.
Well. If nothing else, you managed to make him angry. Good job?
Can the Bunshin be layered over the user so it looks like you're doing several things at once? So, like you've got one Bunshin going for a horizontal slash at their head, but you're actually aiming a few degrees lower. Or have the Bunshin do different handseals than what you're actually doing. Might be useful for feinting and stuff.
You, however, most assuredly do not get canon. But you do get 50 XP and a solid belly laugh.
You could probably do the hand seals thing, since Daisuke already demonstrated his bunshins being able to do different things in that presentation rather than copy every move he makes like the traditional bunshin does. However, it doesn't mitigate the problems of lack of shadow, lack of smell, lack of footprints/weights, etc...
Hah! Take 60 XP and canon.@Vesvius - In which Kiba learns the meaning of life's not fair.
You are Inuzuka Kiba, and you currently find yourself very confused as you're making the last few steps to meet up with Daisuke at his home for the project you've been cunningly deceived into helping with. You were supposed to come yesterday, as was usual, but got hung up helping out with a new litter and had to drop by today instead. It was getting to be a real pain, the demand on your time. How dare he take advantage of your manly love for his mother like that?
What has brought you to a standstill, and your mouth slightly hanging open, is the vision of tantalizing beauty that has just stepped out of his house. Objectively, she's not quite on Nanami's level, but she's close. Complicating the issue is that Daisuke's mother doesn't ever run around in a skin tight, fishnet shirt.
She noticed you staring and locks her gaze on you, closing the distance rather quickly.
"Trying to catch some flies, brat?"
You stammer slightly and close your mouth. "Uh, no, no. Uh. I'm here to help Daisuke with his history project?"
She gives you an appraising look that slowly morphs into something more predatory.
"Ohh, you must be Kiba-kun."
"Ye-ah. That's me, ma'am. Good ol' reliable Kiba." Your brain catches up to what you said and you award yourself a few mental kicks. Dumb dumb dumb.
She throws an arm around your should, and you nearly faint at the proximity. "I've heard a lot about you, reliable Kiba-kun. You've been a big help with Daisuke's project."
"Well, you know, always happy to help out a classmate."
"Mhm..." She gives you a side glance and a grin. "Especially one with a smoking hot mom, am I right?"
Your brain freezes, but you think you might have managed to stutter out a denial. Thanks body, owe you one.
"Tisk tisk. It's so unmanly to lie about something like that." She almost breaths in your ear, and you think you might have blacked out for a moment because next thing you know you're standing a few feet away and facing her, your back feeling the impact of a shove.
She belly laughs for a good few minutes and you just kinda stand there and watch. It's only polite, after all! It has nothing to do with the way her clothes shift as she does ok!?
Eventually she gets herself under control and pokes you in the forehead. "Hey, brat. Just fucking with you. Have a good one." And with abruptness she turns and walks away, giving you a wave over her shoulder as she vanishes around a building.
You're not ashamed to admit you take a few minutes to get yourself under control before heading up to Daisuke's door and giving it a quick rap.
Thankfully it's Dai who answers, and not his mother. You don't think you could handle that at the moment.
"Oh, hey Kiba. You're late. Thought you might have gotten held up with the family again."
"Nah, I was on time." There's the smooth confidence back. It's just Dai. Not his mom or that other woman. "Some woman came out of your house and couldn't keep her hands off me!"
Daisuke slowly blinks as he processes that before his features light up with amusement. "Oh, you mean aunt Anko? Yeah, she's like that with everyone."
You tilt your head slightly. "You have an aunt? Never heard about that."
He waves his hand dismissively. "No no. Not blood aunt, anyhow. She and mom go way back. Long enough back she's basically my honorary aunt. Pretty cool and a really strong konoichi. But, ah." He looks a bit sheepish. "Naruto has nothing on her pranks. Take him scale him up a bit, and give him an in depth knowledge of poisons and shinobi tools..."
You both shudder at the thought, him from experience and you vicariously. "She's also, you know. Well, it's a bit awkward to be around her sometimes."
You nod your agreement. "Yeah. Yeah. I get that man. So she's around often?"
He chuckles. "Crashes here a couple of times a week."
You mull that over before nodding to yourself, and deciding to double down on your visits over to help out with his project. Hell, you should be able to find some ways to help him out after you graduate. Not like Genin up and leave the village. And maybe Manami could use a man's help around the house when Daisuke is away on missions...
That was a lot of fun. Take 60 XP and canon.This was surprisingly fun to write. Another to add to the bunch.
You had thought it would be so easy. A few steps, a single tap, and you could go back to your actual training. When they dodged out of the way the first time you were pleasantly surprised. You didn't know that they move that quickly. Your second try was much like the first. At the last minute, your opponent seemingly vanished from sight before sighing lazily. When you finally pushed your body to the very limit of physical ability you were met with nothing but empty air. Finally, after 5 hours of failing to even touch your opponent, you collapsed. No closer than when you first started.
Trying to sit up from your prone position you called out weakly to your opponent.
"How… how can you move so fast Turtle-san!" You tried to raise your voice, but your winded lungs turned your shout into a breathy wheeze. The Turtle, Gai's summon, simply stared peacefully at you. Giving you a look which was either pure serenity or unabashed smugness.
"Only when you can lay a hand on my Shell will I tell you my secrets. For the time being, you are simply not ready." Smugness, the look was most definitely smugness. That was the beginning of your attempts to touch Turtle-san's shell.
After your initial encounter, you had thought to try and trick it somehow. To use your mind and outsmart it in such a way that it would be trivial to accomplish your goal. During your next encounter a month later you thought yourself prepared. The challenge had been issued in the morning along with a single rule.
"You will only learn my secret technique if you touch my shell during the challenge." Immediately your plans of touching the turtle's shell while it slept out the window, but your overall plan remained. Use traps, corner him, and finally touch his shell. Thankfully Ino knew nothing of this training, so your phrasing could not be misinterpreted to be anything but innocent. Back on track, you had chosen your battlefield carefully. Laying down all manner of wires, nets, and snares to catch him. You walked into the field with a swagger in your step and a smirk on your face. You left the field crawling and with a look of despair. Your traps, oh so carefully planned and placed had been turned against you.
On and on it went. Turtle-san would win some. You would almost win others. Finally, you resorted to asking Guy sensei about it. Only to be met with the most serious stare you had ever seen from the man. One that spoke of losses and defeats so profound that for a moment you thought that he would lose his signature sparkle. Then he simply nodded, eyes closed as if deep in thought. Finally the stress you didn't know you were feeling simply broke. All with a few simple words.
"Just keep trying Daisuke, with the power of Youth I know you will succeed!" With Gai Sensei's encouragement, you began to train for your encounters with Turtle-san in earnest. You used every method you could come up with to achieve the speed you needed. Wearing weights while running, more intensive exercise, and finally, wearing that-which-will-not-be-named. You had, of course, taken great pains to make sure that, under no circumstances would your mother see you wearing it. The shame would have been too great for you to bear. Still, you made more and more progress over the next few months than ever before. The turtle's shell was so close, but your training had only just begun. When you managed to almost glance it with your fingertips the turtle vanished from sight. Appearing on the other side of the clearing with a big smile on its face.
"Well done young Daisuke, but your training has only moved on to the next level. The game is nowhere near over yet." Vanishing into thin air you were left with naught but the bitter, familiar taste of defeat and a will to keep training even harder. Your flames of youth would not be quelled!
All good stuff- and the first one was kinda uncanny. You did a scarily good job at aping my style. I'm a tad freaked out.Trolling with non-Genjutsu ringing of the sword is probably a good tactic, yeah. And despite what you might find in my trio of Omake, I don't recommend launching him, Ringing in the vertigo, and then Endless Blading his ass. We don't have the reserves for that right now.
[x] Try to get up close and personal with Sasuke and use your superior kenjutsu skills to deny him the breathing room he needs for his more complex techniques. If he does manage to escape you and make some distance, use Tone of Discord with a vertigo effect, then a dummy+kawarimi combo to get back in his face from an unexpected direction. If/when Sasuke loses sight of you, summon a bunshin and hide it, and have it occasionally mimic the noise of your Tone of Discord to get him to disrupt his chakra unnecessarily. Be on the lookout for traps, ninja wire, shuriken tricks, and the Great Fireball. Steadily wear Sasuke down until an opportunity arises, then go all in and try to end the fight decisively.
@Vesvius Your story is inspiring enough that I might end up writing something similar off on it's own track because I know you're not going down the same paths I would. And I thank you. Also, forgive me for this pile of words. My beta-reader gave the first one an Okay, the others I haven't really passed by anyone. The first one, I was aiming for your style, but I seem to have landed in Kill Six Billion Demons land.
The others are pretty much whatever was easy as I wore myself out with the first one. They take place sometime after graduation, likely when we're running around doing D-Ranks.
You don't remember where you found the book, but you suspect it was among the few possessions of your minder, the man you had to kill all those years ago. It was a philosophical treatise and training manual. It was a foundational book for some branches of Samurai Society.
The book was old, intended for someone more fragile than you. In many ways it's teaching were laughably basic. It knew little about Chakra, and what it knew required such small amounts. That's fine, you had no teacher but it and yourself. Your assigned instructors were neophytes themselves; teaching off of half formed ideas and rumor. They likely had a book similar to your own. You quickly surpassed them. The real experts couldn't be spared on the whim of a foreigner such as yourself.
From the smallest seed, a mighty oak. And so you practiced. Posture was easy, despite being something so fleeting. You stood with your head erect, neither hanging down nor looking up; nor was your neck twisted.
To stand in balance with your environment, no matter what it was, that was harder. And to know that your enemy was part of it was harder still. To be in balance with the force you opposed took training, both mentally and physical. But only when you were able to move in concert with that which you faced were you ready. Your familiarity with Gai made him the first, but it was a crutch. You trained and trained against all comers, with and without your training blade. True prescience was beyond you, but you were better than most your age.
It was then you drilled the Five Attitudes. Upper, Middle, Lower, Left, and Right. It was simpler than other systems, but that simplicity brought with it flexibility. You taught as you learned, and your teachers were eager pupils. Their years had given them practice in learning; something still beyond you in the physical realm. They could repurpose what they already knew; you had no such advantage. It did, however, teach you something that they did not know: How to overcome someone who adapts faster than you. This would serve you well.
Once you had the Five Attitudes down, you practiced it all again, this time with your off hand. Only when it no longer mattered where your sword was did you practice what made you different from your ancestors. First on the dummies, then your fellows, and finally your teachers.
The first new technique, you called〚Five Attitudes, One Desire〛. With but a hand gesture your body split, again and again. Ten arms and five blades, each flowing through the other. A partial Bunshin, centered on yourself. You likely were not the first to come up with it. Some would say that the duplicates were Illusions, but it would be closer to say that they were Unreal. They had no substance, but they could strike. They were created by you, they were part of you, and yet when they were no longer useful, they would cease to be. Your real limbs passed through the Unreal as though they were made of water, and the unreal passed through the real as easily.
All five struck the dummy, but there was one wound. When you tried it on your peers —with the appropriate training sword of course— it was slightly different. There was panic, as they had but two arms to block with and five attacks to block.
Sometimes, they chose right. Often, they chose wrong. Your unreal blades shattered into motes of thought against their defenses. Your real sword knocked them back. Still, there was but one reality, no matter how much force you put into it. From the beginning you were committed, and you could not simply attack wherever you pleased.
Your teachers were surprised at first, but learned what you taught them. They watched your feet, not your blade. They watched everything but that which you sought to use as a deception. And so you improved, taking the weaknesses to heart. It was just as well, you had two more foundational techniques to practice anyway.
You focused on the techniques alone, and ignored the system. When you were ready again, you continued. Now you had no attitude, only will. Your strikes were things they had seen before, but more polished and faster. But they came from wherever they would hit, as opposed to only where you knew you could strike from.
You embraced the Duality of 〚Existence/Non-Existence〛. You were what could be, and what could not be. And the blood always flowed. This was not enough. Their skills were improving faster than yours. Being able to switch from rehearsed angle to a improvised one wasn't enough, even when you were cloaked in unreal limbs. The weaknesses became fewer, and more of them were traps.
You had to be faster. You had to take advantage of not only the weaknesses that were there, but the weaknesses you created. So it was back to the dummies, this time as one man. Sometimes, you left your body behind and feinted with a fake. Sometimes, you rushed forward and left a fake behind. Once you could do either at a moments notice, you were ready. A rush down of real and fake blows, spontaneous and unplanned.
When done right, you could end the fight in a single blow. When done wrong, you simply retreated. If your opponent retreated from you, you struck at their stomach. This was hard, harder than ending the fight in the span of an errant thought. Knowing how to and when to strike a fleeing enemy was not something you could practice on Mr. Straw or Mr. Wood.
Some of your partners sought to close the distance instead. And so you returned to your earlier training, of moving in concert with your foe. A new style emerged, and with it a new stance.
You decided to call the style〚Closer Than The Shadow, Further Than The Sun〛. You stuck to your foe like tar, moved with them; inside their reach and cut around them, let them dance into your blade. To strike from within their own sense of self was the hardest thing you had done. Or, so you thought until you faced someone you had taught too well.
He had been your teacher in many things and friend, even though he knew little of the way of the blade. You were equals in the blade now, but he knew more of the unarmed than you the armed. It was not enough to stay closer than his own shadow, for he had known how to do that long before you had realized the need. It was not enough to confound the senses, for he knew how to strike based on his memory alone. His speed far surpassed your own, as did his strength. Yes, you were the better swordsman, having dedicated yourself to it, but you were ultimately equal in this, no more. And so you returned to the book.
It was not enough to be fast. Against an equal, speed could be a disadvantage. It was not enough to know what you were doing, nor what your opponent was doing. Here, it was time to be stagnant and slow. To move as slow as you could and create an opening though pressure. To crack your foe as ice cracks a boulder. And so you practiced. And so you moved.
To move into and through your foe's defenses was nothing new. It was the basis of Closer Than The Shadow. But now it had a purpose beyond a blow or a slash. You slipped around them, and filled their space like spilled ink. Your blade no longer lead or corralled, but trailed, cutting around and through, disengaging only for moments before coming down somewhere else. And when you could do this consistently, you let yourself split between existence and non-existence once more.
〚Pooling Shadow-Etching Rock〛 was the pinnacle of your achievements, something that even your teachers couldn't match. You were alone. But you would not be forever. There was forever someone greater. So you returned to the book. You returned to your studies, and studied yourself. You studied the ways others fought, and how you would use them. The blade was never far from your heart, even when it was far from your hand. This too, would end some day.
You were not done with the book, as it was your heritage. But there were other books and other styles. To know how to use a weapon was to know its weaknesses, and you had so much to learn. You would return, and find more knowledge from the long dead master. Other chapters spoke of identifying schools from what had come before. Predicting the future by knowing history. The concept appealed. You were not straying from The Way, because there was only one true way: yours.
Someday, you would return. But you would not be the same. One day, you would have the wisdom of the Void. And with it, would be more than shinobi or samurai. You would be yourself, once and truly. And that would be enough for one lifetime.
It's not a stretch to imagine that Tokei had a copy of the Naruto Equivalent of the Book of Five Rings. Or that it could be a quest reward. The rest of it.. maybe. Imagine that this story takes place over multiple months, even a year. The following sniplets take place within the larger story and are there to give a broader perspective.
All of these techniques come from this question: What would the greatest swordsman on the planet have done if they had Naruto style abilities. Someone suggested Partial Clones as a thing, and whether or not it's truly possible, fake limbs is an astounding advantage. Being able to assume all of the possible positions at once, leaving the opponent too much to keep track of would be something I imagine everyone would go for if they could. It's simple enough, just fake arms ready to strike at four of the five positions, hoping to distract the target enough that the real pair can hit.Maito Gai had always been proud of the way Daisuke was developing. The flame of Youth burned brightly within him, and he was a genius with the sword. It was moments like this, however, that Gai worried for him. The old book wasn't meant for Shinobi, nor Samurai as most people thought of them. It had been written by a monk who became a swordsman, and it was almost purely taijutsu instruction. A civilian could use the majority of its teachings. The strength Daisuke could bring to bear, even with a bokutō, was immense. He could keep it up for such a long time, as well.
It was true that all Shinobi were dangerous. It was true that a sword was meant to kill. But Daisuke had done something else entirely. He took the techniques of a peasant —not even a proper samurai— and extended them beyond what they were ever meant to handle. Gai himself had trained with a sword once, and was still learning when he could, not just from fellow instructors but any manual he could get his hands on. But this child had bested him, with his free time and drive. At times, he thought of stealing that book.
But even if he had it, he would not have a single moment of insight into the boy's mind. Which is why his heart skipped a beat when the boy formed a series of signs with his off hand. One handed techniques were difficult, and what he did next was impossible. Arms sprouted from the boy's shoulders, half of them holding the bokutō. He had been tempted to call it off right there. There was no way the boy had that much Chakra unless they'd missed something. No one simply grew arms, except for jinchūriki... It was at that moment he realized the brilliance of it. Daisuke had mastered the Bunshin in the academy, it was only logical that he would have found a new way to use it. Unreal Limbs? That was so uniquely him.
Indeed, the fact that they were based on the Bushin rather than a genjutsu or an elemental Bushin were to his advantage. Everyone knew that they don't cast shadows or disturb grass, they were fundamentally less substantial. And so, he moved right through them. Nor could they be dispelled, as they would be if they were purely an illusion.
These thoughts took no time at all, even as his student approached. The swords were passed from hand to hand, in a dizzying pattern. It was well suited to bokutō use as well. With a real sword, the glint from the sun could give him away. Here, there was no reflection to watch. You simply had to know your own weaknesses.
Gai sprung into action, weaving between the hail of blows. When there was more than one possible blow, he moved away. When only one could hit, that's what he blocked. To respond with an all out attack so soon would be a disservice to his student! But that truly was the best defense here. Simply pop all of the cloned arms.
That was easier said than done; Daisuke was aware of where the fakes were, and would often prod with his real sword to avoid having to deal with his options reduced. That, and it was simply good technique to strike when the enemy was distracted. It took longer to whittle him down than Gai would have liked, for no other reason than it was easiest to learn the pattern than risk going too hard and injuring the boy. In a real fight, they would be done by now.
That said if Daisuke ever learned to do it without relying so heavily on the Five Attitudes, that might be the only defense. Now, the rigid attack pattern was technique's biggest weakness. Others would have to settle for dodging the shadows or reading the boy's feet and hips. Which meant taking your eyes off his blade and hand. If Daisuke weren't focusing on proving this one technique, that could be deadly.
One day, this would serve Kohona well. For now, it was passable. "That was an inspired technique, Young Daisuke! If you work, it will serve you well."
Daisuke bowed stiffly, head held high to let him do so without taking his eyes off Gai. "All warfare is based on deception, sensei. It seemed wise to cloak my blows within possibility itself."
Existence/Non-Existence doesn't really need it's own sniplet because it's a more relaxed and fluid version of Five Attitudes, One Thought. He's discarded the need to strike at specific points in favor of being able to strike where he see or can create a weakness. It flows from the Attitudes to No Attitude(pure technique) and back.
Closer Than The Shadow, Further Than The Sun is a combination of the advice to stick to your opponent like tar and the ability to switch out when a blow is about to land. When at all possible, of course, you look for an opportunity to end the fight. Such as knocking your foe down by pulling them off balance or kneeing/slashing them across the stomach. Even people use to close quarters fighting are unaccustomed to having their personal space invaded like this. Especially with a weapon.Rock Lee thought there was something familiar about Daisuke's new kenjutsu style. It wasn't until Daisuke used it unarmed that he realized what it was. In a way, it was akin to the Shadow Of The Dancing Leaf. Most people would attempt to stay at a distance unless they specialized in grappling, but Daisuke had chosen another path. To duck in under the foe's limbs, to exist inside their reach and limit their attacks. Without a weapon, this reduced them both to knee and elbow strikes as well as the occasional, but with one... It became something else entirely.
The most disturbing part of it, however, was when Daisuke found a distraction and slipped behind you. He'd leave you tangling with the clone until you got a good hit in and popped it, at which point he'd bring the bokutō down on your head! And then the struggle would start anew. Sometimes, he'd let you get away and then follow you through the air as though he was your shadow! There were few things more hilarious to watch, but horrifying to have happen to you. When you landed, he was already waiting. Or he'd come down on you, as though the jump was his idea in the first place.
The other tricks Rock Lee had only seen, never actually had preformed on him. The way Daisuke would lock blades and then slide in, forcing you down. The way he would interpose a foot while you tried to reposition. The whole thing was to knock you off balance for just a second and create a weakness where there was none. It enlightened and terrified in equal measure, and he was not to be outdone.
He wasn't precisely taking notes as he watched Daisuke slink across the training ground toward the increasingly frantic Ten Ten. He wielded the Blade of the Watchman today, as he usually did when he had to deal with shuriken. The hail of sharpened metal overwhelmed even him, though he deflected enough of it. The worst part was that his skill with the Bushin had advanced enough that he seemed to split as he dodged. He was layered over himself in strange and eye hurting ways. And the colors on that coat didn't help.
And the ringing! The sounds that sword made, even when he wasn't using his special technique were bad, but even if you'd heard them a dozen times before it was never clear what they'd do. Any time he deflected, it could be his opportunity to mess with you.
It wouldn't take long for Daisuke to tag her and the main event to start. Rock lee continued his exercises, waiting. There was the signature whistle, and Guy-Sensei entered the battle. It may only happen once a month, but it was a familiar dance. Those layers of clone sliding around each other, the constantly switching approach peppered with feints and the occasional cheap blow. The blades rang and scraped. The Stalemate was on, as it had been for so long. Gai's strength won against Daisuke's technique. Occasionally, Daisuke would knock him off balance and slice at the fallen teacher, but Gai was as at home on his back as his feet and the advantage never lasted long.
Today, however, was when the block finally cracked. Instead of those strange partial clones, he started using them in full the way others might. He attacked at the back and the front, created formations... And then launched a volley of shuriken from the distance, before dashing around again. It was likely that he was using the bushin to cover his kawarimi. How did that go? 'When we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near.'
It was something to start from, at least. The silver-haired boy was in the process of starting a new school, and he was here to witness it. But he would train harder. He would be Daisuke's equal, he'd just try harder, as he always did. For that was Rock Lee's genius. Hard work.
Okay, so I'm starting to get tired. The last of the three could use some polish. The point is, it's rather like the Demon Mirror. Make it hard/out right impossible to determine which one he is, switch when you have to, and use the clenches to create weakness whenever possible. They all flow from actual teachings.Hayate had been putting this off as long as he could. He had better things to do than indulge the whims of the Bastard Of Iron. He didn't dislike the kid, but as one of the few kenjutsu specialists, he really should have been training the people who trained the kid. And while he'd helped Gai out on occasion, there were other things to do. But the boy was advancing too fast, there had to be something else going on here. What was it that Kakashi always said? Look underneath the Underneath?
Daisuke had been waiting for him for sometime, as evidenced by the meal prepared for the both of them. His place had been set, in more ways than one. With a sigh, Hayate sat down. Nothing untoward happened... the meal had been prepared with care, and it had not been marred with poison or drugs. The entire time, Daisuke acted every part the prince, even thanked him for coming. But it was not the conversation, nor the language, that they had been joined to speak.
Hayate was the the first to stand. "Shall we start?"
Daisuke smiled, and gave a nod without ever once breaking eye contact. "I was under the impression that we already had."
Hayate smiled in return. "Indeed we have."
Shinobi do not fight with honor. They do not value their humanity. Not when they have a mission. He kicked the table into the boy, and was unsurprised when the boy disappeared in a puff of smoke. The Watchman's Bell, as some had taken to calling the sound, rang across the clearing from somewhere up above. The boy had taken to tapping the fan against the sword idly in battle, to confuse people as to when he had cast the genjutsu. But there was another purpose, and they both knew it. The ringing drew people to the one he wanted to be seen, it drew attention away from any clones he may have running about. Something that would serve him well if he ever learned how to summon shadow clones.
For now, the boy relied on substitutions to achieve the same effect. The boy was not as fast as Hayate, nor as skilled, so it made sense that he would try to lock him down with a subtle genjutsu, to control the tempo of battle. It was good at keeping one paranoid, but Hayate knew the boy did not have the chakra reserves to continuously cast it. So it was a gamble on both their parts when Hayate started sprinting. Would this be the moment Daisuke tried to send him tumbling down? Would Hayate find him before he could do something serious?
Daisuke could climb like a squirrel, though one should never let the boy or the squirrels hear you say that. Hayate was no slouch either. The boy had chosen a tree-top battle, likely for the sake of knocking him on his ass. The Tone Of Discord was good for that. It was a shame what he had to do today.
They ignored gravity as their blades clashed and rang.
Despite what he had feared, they fought their way back down the trees, and it became evident how the boy had intended to best him. He was simply going to outlast him, make sure the speedy swordsman exhausted himself. He'd have to pull his punches a bit, for risk of killing the boy, but he had a solution. He jumped again, ready to come down with support from a few shadow clones.
There was one problem. As he was rising, he met with another force, the boy had already went back up the tree... That was cheeky, Hayate had practically invented the technique. Still, this was an evaluation, not an elimination. The midair battle ended swiftly and the boy launched into his signature ten arm stance...
Hayate did not waste chakra on such things. He preferred the use of after-images. It was trivial to break the fake blades, at that speed. His blade locked with the real one and the boy didn't disengage. He didn't struggle, though he did step into it. For a moment, he was sure the boy was about to enacted The Forbidden Technique Of The Rabbit. Instead he did something else Rabbits are known for. He multiplied, spilling about him in a tide of fakes. But he didn't move. They were useless, unreal why would he waste Chakra on it?
His answer came swiftly and suddenly. The clash broke and so did the boy. The next thing Hayate felt was a knee to the stomach. The boy was lost in a sea of fakes, and they all crowded him; they covered for each other.
"Tell me Daisuke: Were you really considering The Forbidden Technique of the Rabbit?"
The voice came from behind him, and Hayate's own shadow clones focused their fire there. "Of course not, Hayate-san. You've got a girlfriend!"
This was, unfortunately, followed by a swift kick that launched Hayate into the air, and another ring of the Watchman's Bell... This time the Tone of Discord did take effect. It lasted just long enough to make it impossible to judge the landing. It was time to get serious.
It was then that the 'Broken Air' struck him. The kid was going to get it for that...
I'm not the best at writing fight scenes, I really do need to work on that. But I hope the rest of it at least helped explain what I wanted the techniques to be like? Sure, I figure they're not going to anything we'll pick up soon, if at all, but I had such vivid ideas.
I had a silly idea about Daisuke putting on a Play by himself to get his Bushin and Henge practice in, but I'm too drained from the 4k or so I've already written today.
You know, I'm starting to detect a theme in your art. Take 170 XP.
*hint hint*However, it doesn't mitigate the problems of lack of shadow, lack of smell, lack of footprints/weights, etc...
That won't work. Bunshin can't mimic sound or noise.[x] Try to get up close and personal with Sasuke and use your superior kenjutsu skills to deny him the breathing room he needs for his more complex techniques. If he does manage to escape you and make some distance, use Tone of Discord with a vertigo effect, then a dummy+kawarimi combo to get back in his face from an unexpected direction. If/when Sasuke loses sight of you, summon a bunshin and hide it, and have it occasionally mimic the noise of your Tone of Discord to get him to disrupt his chakra unnecessarily. Be on the lookout for traps, ninja wire, shuriken tricks, and the Great Fireball. Steadily wear Sasuke down until an opportunity arises, then go all in and try to end the fight decisively.