Reconciliation of Ideals

It was hard to believe. Even standing before the evidence in the shrine of the Kage- a housing of statues that honored the past leaders of Hoshigakure- did little to quell the alien sensation of the thoughts he had pushed away for so long. It was as though Yuuma needed to see it with his very own eyes before the whole process could even begin. Standing in the shrine, Yuuma stood at the place before where his original master had been honored. Valen. The Traitor. The same man who had absconded in the midst of the night, only to return to try and hold the village for ransom. So much had changed in a year, it was hard to recognize the feelings he had once as ever having been real. Staring into the vacant spot of the stature, Yuuma recalled his time in the academy and the feelings that had stirred in his chest when he saw Valens was the one to be holding the exam of graduation into being a Genin. He could remember the trepidation that seeped into his system, heightened only by the brilliant and blinding jutsu Valens had unleashed upon the class at the time. One that had robbed them of their vision, but not their senses as the mighty dragon swirled about the class. Gripping onto the front of his robes, Yuuma would press his balled fist over his heart and furrowed his brow, closing his eyes and recalling in clear detail the feeling of immense awe he had felt. A true display of what a shinobi could achieve- what he could strive for.

Now, in the face of revelation, the awe he felt turned into a heavy, sinking feeling. The goal he had idolized before becoming perverse- as though a golden statue had turned to a cheap wooden imitation before his very eyes. Perhaps it had always been that way. Perhaps that is the folly of taking ideals based on the achievements of others. He could feel his core grow hot as he clenched his fist, his brow coming together to press down over his eyes as his head tilted his gaze towards the floor. A mixture of despair and shame mixed together in his stomach like a mixture of milk and spice- an upset churning that had little to do with his daily diet and everything to do with the nourishing thoughts he had sown and digested to become part of his foundation. It was a betrayal of the worst sort. The kind of betrayal one recognizes as coming from the inside. “You could have known better,” he tried to tell himself, but even this realization would drop the anger he felt in a huffed out sigh as his hand dropped loose at his side. All he had ever had was questions. Questions that never seemed to get a straight answer. But then again, perhaps that was his own doing. Perhaps it was time to stop relying on answers coming from other people, and to begin forming them himself. A sense of resolve began to creep into the young man as he lifted his gaze to the empty statue spot once more.

Yes. It was time to stop seeking the approval of others and begin relying on his own ability. He had grown. He had plenty of growing still to do, but even these last weeks had provided something he hadn’t ever had before. Direction. Maybe even purpose. And just like the mark on his forehead would serve as a reminder of his failure, the burning sensation that Valen had left in his core would serve as inspiration. Inspiration to do away with idols, to bring to heel the notion of station and everything that it might bring with it. His mother- Zia the Stitch- had not sought station, and yet she served the people of Hoshi nonetheless. She was not now seated amongst the nobles, endowed with a fanciful title, nor would her likeness ever to be carved into the annals of history alongside the other kage. Despite all of this, her actions had saved many lives. His own included. This was what he should aspire to. Wind blew into Yuuma’s chest as he stood up tall. Slinging his bag of recently purchased goods over his shoulder, Yuuma would cast his eyes down the line of statues once more, ending in the most recent addition. Ayato Hyuuga. He looked young, just like Valen. People spoke well of him, and the people he employed as his inner circle seemed to have the very best interest of the village at heart. Still, that same excitement he had once felt to recognize the head of the village was lacking. A hesitation born of a scarred past. Yuuma hoped that this man- Ayato- had the best interest in the village as well, but his faith was not so ready to be placed.

Certainly, the Hogokage had nothing to prove to a Genin like Yuuma, but nor would Yuuma approach the man with the same reverence for his position Yuuma had once held. If he truly was a great leader, then it would show in his actions. But for now, it was time to focus up. The exams were soon, and he still had preparations to make. Turning from the statues, Yuuma would depart the shrine and head back to his apartment, where the last few ingredients to his training sat ready and waiting for his arrival.



“So, you are taking these exams quite seriously.” Came the voice of Archimedes who had found a manageable perch just outside the open window of Yuuma’s apartment. “I must admit, your methods of training are perhaps a little unorthodox, but I cannot argue with the results.” A gentle mist could be seen leaving the apartment trailing from a censer that had been placed with hot coals, a dose of the anesthetic he had acquired from the hospital, and some water that had been infused with Yuuma’s chakra. Sitting with only his small clothes on, Yuuma was cross-legged before his table which had been cleared of everything but the censer and a decanter of water that was receiving frequent infusions of his own chakra before being poured over the coals to create another small burst of mist infused with the potent toxin. Sweat glistened on his body as his breathing remained even and steady, hands outstretched in the same slow moving practices he had been doing at the lake not long ago.

The mist would roil and billow, turning his small room into a sweat lodge without the heat. The sweat he produces was not an effect of the coals and steam but instead it was the natural instinct of his body fighting off the poison that he slowly soaked into his pores via the evaporation. A somewhat long-form technique of creating a synthesis within his own system via a mixture of chakra manipulation and medical practice. With this technique, he’d teach his body to naturally produce the potent anesthetic such that it could be utilized with his medical techniques in such a way to give him a less than lethal means of dealing with assailants. “I realize it might seem strange,” Yuuma spoke after some time, his eyes having closed in an effort to maintain his focus on his work. “But if it can be helped, I’d much rather have an option to convince someone that a fight may not be worth it. I don't always need to be stronger than my opponent to deter them.” Yuuma countered. His mind was having a hard time concentrating, the synthesized poison continuing to affect his system despite the medical knowledge he possessed. Granted, he was no great doctor or anything, but with most of his recent studies focused around maximizing the effects of his jutsu for the coming exam, this was but another small step.

Archimedes grew thoughtful as he watched the boy work at his methods, contemplating just what to interject with. In truth, while the wise owl had plenty to offer in terms of advice, the boy seemed to be rather focused. Rather intent on his pursuits. It was heartening to see a student take to their studies so thoroughly, though the concern of motivation ever rested in the back of the feathered avian’s mind. In his short time in the village, he had come to recognize that many were driven by strong ideals. Desires to be fulfilled through the extolment of power and strength. Admirable in their own rights, but a slippery slope to motivations more insidious. Still, Yuuma seemed to have found his focus, and for the time being, that was all the mentor could ask for. Even had the words to offer, they would fail to find proper placement before Yuuma ultimately succumbed to the poison and plopped backwards into his unrolled bed, sound asleep. A croon of amusement left the owl as he took flight, intent on surveying the city while his young pupil found rest from his exercise. “Let’s hope that heart of yours stays in the right place, my boy.” He spoke to only himself, wings flapping as he ascended into the twilight sky. 

EXIT

WC- 1,532
Split- 766 Each

Claims:

Yuuma:

Archimedes:

Approved