Reunion [P]

Having left a note at the Yuganori compound for Takashi to find, Koutaku had then headed to the Military training facility where his note had said to meet him. She’d been unavailable for the last week or so due to her responsibilities to her clan, but now they finally had a chance to do some training and hang out. He was looking forward to it.

Stepping into the facility, Koutaku reserved a fairly medium-sized room, let the clerk know that he was expecting someone to join him--giving a description of his friend and her name--before he swapped out his wire with the training wires that he used and made his way deeper into the building. It didn’t take long for him to find the room he’d chosen, to enter, and lock it behind him. Once there he sat in the center of the room, stabbed his wakizashi into the stone floor, and began to focus, working on the technique that he’d been trying to develop for the last while.

He’d be like that when she arrived.

Spoiler:

The early morning had not been kind to Takashi--after rising at 6:00 on the dot to get herself ready in order to make it on time to the communal combat meditation in the Yuganori Compound, she had then been reassigned to a particularly irksome and vexing order placed by a citizen who wanted a kimono that “looked like the sea”. They had given absolutely no further specifications than that and meticulously rejected anything that didn’t meet their supposed vision, which Takashi had reason to believe changed just as mercurially as the source of their inspiration. She’d spent the majority of the next two hours making last minute alterations, throwing out combinations of dyes that had previously been “resplendent!” or “darling!” or “visually mellifluous!” and had since been reduced to “gauche”, “trite”, and “vulgar” thanks to the changing tides of the client’s opinion. Takashi had taken several minutes-long breaks with about the same timespan of work between them, drawing gentle murmurs of praise regarding her dedication to the clan’s tenets from her peers.

The delivery of the ‘finished’ product had gone surprisingly smoothly. The client had given it a look that Takashi could only describe as withering before a red mist descended on her and she’d furiously woven handseals to create new silk in order to add a few embellishments to the obi and tied it in a particular knot she’d read about in the silken scrolls--the next thing she could recall she was being lavished with praise for her ingenuity and spontaneity, and had received not three but four kisses alternating between her cheeks and a beautifully decorated box containing several varieties of premium dango before being turfed out onto the street and promptly forgotten. She took a moment to calm herself, breathing in and out gently, and reminded herself that the satisfaction of a job well done was its own reward. It wasn’t like she’d see any of the ryo from her work--but Kinuko had asked her to see to the assignment personally and she had never been able to refuse her elder sister anything at all (even if she was in a position to do so).

By the time she had made it to the training centre she was already upwards of half an hour late, and lazily chewing on a piece of caramelized soy dango that was good enough she was almost willing to forgive the entirely unbecoming behavior of the individual that’d given it to her--almost, but not quite. She found Koutaku quite quickly after having received directions from the clerk and sidled into the room with a sheepish grin on her face before waving at her friend and sitting down opposite him, box open and pointed towards him in an obvious bribe to conveniently forget how late she was. Words weren’t needed for that little exchange, so she didn’t interrupt his concentration and simply waited for him to address her first.

Spoiler:

Having waited without worry that she’d eventually show up, Koutaku wasn’t the least bit bothered when he heard his friend enter. Though he didn’t stir from his almost meditative state, the genin was keenly aware of her presence as she entered the 10 meter radius of his energetic senses, allowing him to track her movements to a degree as she seated herself next to him and then seemed to offer something up. Opening an eye, Koutaku grinned slightly at the expression on her face and--without breaking his concentration in the least--plucked a dango from the box and took a bite. Savoring the taste and smell, Koutaku took a long deep breath, and then let it out in an equally long exhale. The chakra that was coiled around his blade seemed to expand and contract in response to his breathing before it gradually began to fade as Koutaku let the technique go.

“Glad you could make it,” Koutaku said with a smirk, dango stuffed into one cheek while he spoke before he closed his mouth and finished the delectable dumpling.

Spoiler:

Takashi watched Koutaku stir from whatever Iouchiryo meditative technique he was currently engrossed in with equal parts interest and boredom, and as he began to eat the provided dango she smiled to herself. He couldn’t be mad at her for being late now that he’d accepted the peace offering--those were the hard and fast rules of friendship. She’d told him that a long time ago as a way to use food to excuse herself from constantly being busy with other work, but it was still pleasant that her prior actions were still paying dividends to this day.

“If Lady Chiyoko had kept me behind any longer I’m quite sure I wouldn’t have… she asked us for a kimono ‘the colour of the sea’, in her own words, and wouldn’t elaborate on it further no matter how many times I asked! Do you know how many colours water has in this village?! I had to make at least fourteen different dyes, and she hated all of them… but I suppose it’s over now, and we’re here, so there’s no use worrying about what did or didn’t happen.”

Takashi’s words first came out quickly, in a furious torrent--like she’d had to bottle them up inside her and the sheer pressure of releasing them was violent in its outburst. As she continued, however, it slowed to a gentle stream and then a trickle. Before she knew it, she was completely calm again and she exhaled loudly and deeply to purge herself of the sticky remnants of her spent frustration.

“What did you want to do, exactly? I’ve been so busy with weaving that I hadn’t really considered it before I came here, and you didn’t mention anything specific in your note. I’m happy to train whatever you’d like!” Takashi smiled, all of her previous emotions thoroughly and cathartically excised and replaced with a gentle, friendly optimism. She had missed the opportunity to catch up with her friend regularly, and a little tingle of excitement was beginning to build in her chest as she considered the myriad possibilities of what they could get up to with one another in the training facility.

Spoiler:

Chuckling as he listened to her story of what sounded like a totally unreasonable client by just about anyone’s standards, Koutaku reached in front of him and grabbed the grip of his wakizashi, and pulls it from the ground. “They sound like more than anyone could handle. Good job escaping,” he gave her a smile and then rose from the floor, sheathing his blade as he did so. Eyes darting to the locked door of their training room, Koutaku relaxed further as his eyes moved back to Takashi.

Smile still firmly in place he considered her question, reflecting on what he might need and how he could reasonably help her with her training. It wouldn’t stand for her to remain as behind their peers as he’d been a week or so ago. “Well, you’ve more or less got the basics down already, so I suppose it’s really just a matter of what you want.” Tapping the pommel of his blade, the rest of his right hand still gripping the handle of the blade, Koutaku pondered what exactly they might do.

“Actually, it might be best to get you back into proper shape since it’s been so long, plus that way you can get accustomed to what I’ve learned in the meantime. Unless you have a better idea that is.” He glanced down at her, his eyes had been distant for a moment as he stared elsewhere. Now though, there was only an expectant look in his eyes.

Spoiler:

Takashi rolled her eyes at the mention of the term “escape”, moving swiftly on to giving Koutaku a familiar, pointed look that indicated he’d made a misstep but that she was choosing to look past it. There had been many such looks over the course of their friendship, with Koutaku’s evidence-based observation strategies often coming into direct contrast with Takashi’s impulsive hotheadedness--though she always brushed away her feelings (with varying degrees of success) to observe situations as impartially and sensibly as possible after she’d had her moment of indulgence. She gave a sharp exhale, took a deep breath in, and suddenly she was back to having the same dopey grin as before. No matter which way she looked at it, the company of her friend was infinitely preferable to having to mix dyes next to her second cousin (who always ‘accidentally’ picked up the neatly labelled pots of Takashi’s dyes and claimed them as her own) while trying to fulfil the insane requests of a wealthy madwoman.

“You know just as well as I do that you’re meant to be the decisive one. Well, sensei, decide! I’m ready to learn whatever you think best to teach.” she spoke, lacing the term sensei with as much mock derision as she could muster before permitting herself a gentle chuckle and standing up, face suddenly composed, and offering a gentle bow. For all of her ribbing, most of which was just the result of several days’ worth of frustration, she was truly respectful of Koutaku’s skill. His mind seemed to accommodate the rigorous logical disciplines of ninja training more readily than hers did, though she’d always been intuitively gifted in her own ways--it just so happened that he was, truth be told, far superior to her in terms of raw intellect. She would always have to study more than he would, always have to play catch-up… but she had known that when they’d first met as children. The concept of being lesser than her peers had never bothered her, because failure was inevitable--it was how one handled failure that determined one’s worth, and she had the stubborn perseverance to see everything he’d excelled at innately through their many years together.

“If you can catch me up quickly, perhaps we can work on something new afterwards? A chain is only as strong as its weakest link!”

Spoiler:

Turning away, Koutaku pointedly avoided eye contact as she gave him that familiar look. It always made him uncomfortable, and he had a feeling that she knew that. He was almost certain of it if he was being entirely honest. Sometimes, the young man wondered if maybe Takashi had him wrapped around her finger--as the saying went--but he also knew that she was easily his closest friend. Was it worth mentioning his suspicions and endangering that? Not in the slightest, besides, she definitely has best interests at heart, right?

Turning his thoughts to other matters as she spoke again, Koutaku rolled his eyes and glanced back at her. “Ugh, fine. First things first we’ll do a bit of a spar to see that you haven’t forgotten any of the necessary tenets.” He knew she hadn’t, Takashi had always taken longer to learn things than him, but once she had them down...well, they weren’t going anywhere. Besides, just as he had, his friend had taken to the Iouchiryo tenets with ease. They were essential, after all. The only difficulty she had had been one that they’d shared: Implementation.

Learning the tenets was one thing, but understanding them? Knowing each one in your bones, making them instincts? That was much harder and it had taken each of them several long grueling years to get to where they were today. Still, she wanted to needle him, he’d repay the favor.

Stepping away--walking backward so he never lost sight of her--Koutaku would move till he was 10 meters away. At any moment he’d be ready to react to her should she attack before then. Typically she wouldn’t, but one could never be too careful.

Spoiler:

While the minutiae of social interactions were often lost on Koutaku, Takashi was adept enough in this area to be able to read the gist of his thoughts on his face. She let out a little sigh as she waited for him to get into position, and as he turned to stare her down from ten metres away she gave him a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry Koutaku, that was unfair of me… I’ve just been under a lot of pressure recently, and you’re the only person I can really be myself around so I may have taken a bit of a liberty... You didn’t deserve that. Catharsis by combat?” she said, letting herself deflate a little as she tried to exhale the rest of her pent-up frustrations about the past week. It took her a few cycles of breathing to actually get herself ready to begin, letting the familiar discipline of a combat scenario engage her mind and shift the gears of her thinking. It’d been something that both the Iouchiryo and the Yuganori individually did, so she was pleasantly surprised to find that her own experiences of combat meditation were quite useful amongst Koutaku and his kin, and that was one of their lessons she’d managed to pick up very quickly owing to her familiarity. It took her a little longer than usual, thanks to her emotionally charged state, but she managed to normalize her breathing rhythm and bring herself to the point of focus quickly enough. As she did so she almost ceremonially began to unravel the long scarf around her neck folds upon folds spilling out of it and draping to the floor inelegantly, until it had dropped down to approximately 3 meters long on either side.

With a sudden look of steely and determined focus, she looked to her sparring partner and nodded to let him know that she was ready. Her hands had already maneuvered themselves under the delicate folds of the obscenely long weapon, and despite the seemingly unwieldy nature of it the second she maneuvered it into the correct position draped over her arms and hands it seemed to gain a semblance of structure and shape that it hadn’t possessed previously. She awaited his first move with careful anticipation, happy to allow him the first movement, but ready to react at an instant’s notice.

Spoiler:

As Takashi readied herself, Koutaku did much the same, taking one--then two--deep calming breaths allowing all emotion except a steely determination melt entirely from his body. The subtle tension in his muscles vanished, and the typical contemplative look in his eyes faded entirely, replaced only with focus. As his friend prepared her scarf, Koutaku flicked his wrists, revealing three wirebound shuriken per hand. He made no effort to respond to her words, already in a deep state of concentration that he had no desire to break.

Feeling sufficiently prepared, Koutaku burst forth accelerating immediately to his max speed as he moved to close the 10 meters of distance between them. He made sure to mind each of her movements and do his utmost to read the intentions in her eyes and the subtle shift of muscle or posture so that at any moment he could abort his movement and enter a maneuver proper. Failing any change in her, Koutaku would begin another set of actions at roughly 5 or 3 meters as according to the situation at that point and his own hidden intentions.

Spoiler:

Takashi’s immediate reaction to Koutaku was shock at the sheer speed he was capable of now--despite their training having been fairly similar thus far barring the past week or so, it was suddenly like he had undergone a complete metamorphosis and become a different individual. He was far faster than she could reasonably react to, and she had no reason to doubt that he far surpassed her in almost every other aspect too. It took a great deal of her mental energy to suppress the surprise and react in the moment, so great was the shock, that she elected not to directly move out of his way but instead to sweep her arms forward and then whip them back. The scarf, which had pooled to either side of her, suddenly moved forward as if to make an offensive gesture--but so great was Koutaku’s speed that by the time he had closed the three-meter gap she’d managed to move her weapon a scant half a meter out towards the front of herself where it again began to pool on the ground. As her arms moved the scarf her right leg was moved back and tensed slightly, her posture tightening and her muscles tensing in order to be able to effectively release a burst of movement as needed. Beyond that, she realized that attempting to make a move against him in this state would result in her immediate loss, so she endeavored only to react to his movements if she could help it without endangering herself further.

Spoiler: