Progression by Degrees [P]

Entering the Military Training Facility, Koutaku swapped out his wire for training wire, picking up several additional loops as well. Today he was up for some teaching if he could manage, it, and maybe with someone new. He was feeling adventurous. So it was that he surveyed the open hall, and then the open rooms he could see and picked one at random. Walking swiftly towards his chosen door, Koutaku entered to find himself in the presence of someone who was almost certainly a genin.

“Afternoon!” Koutaku said cheerily as he addressed the stranger. He was in a particularly good mood that day, perhaps because the day before he’d reunited with Takashi, or perhaps because he’d gotten to meet with the Mizukage recently. Either way, he entered the room with a certain confidence to his step, tilting his head slightly as he observed the young genin before him.

Androgynous features, dark skin, observant eyes. Unassuming, yet at once distinctive. “Now, I know you were here first, but I was looking for a training partner today, and I thought perhaps you wouldn’t mind.”  He’d taken some notes on Takashi’s words on interacting with people. After all, she was much better at it than he was. Still, it made him faintly anxious to await their reply, so he flicked his wrist--drawing a kunai--and began to fidget with the weapon to occupy some of his attention.

It helped.

Spoiler:

There was an infinite darkness...probably because her eyes were closed. It was another lesson her father taught her. There were three eyes that a person saw with, the two in their head, and the third in their spirit. The heart, or mind, in a way they were the same really. A darkness always hung over that eye.

It was a powerful shroud, through which no information could be parsed. The third eye was blind, but to be a real warrior was to clear the waters so that they could see. To finally allow light to reach that eye, but to do so you had to know what the light was and what the darkness was. To begin to change something you had to understand what that something is, at least if you wanted to do it properly.


The darkness, which was preoccupations with the material world and one's physical desires. The meat sweet nectar of greed, the fear of suffering, the base pains and the base pleasure. Our preoccupation with the material, what people thought of us, the fleeting things of the world and looking only at the surface physicality of it all. The shallow wants and the needs of flesh. It clouded the mind in battle, in the process of focusing on it, craving life and fearing pain. Hating death and clinging to it we close off our minds and hearts from the things that hurt us.

We shut ourselves away, we forget truths. Her father never told her what those truths were. He said it was something that she would have to find herself, on her own breeze. It was a little joke of his, he used wind and way like they were the same thing. He told her to find her wind, let it blow over the horizon, and guide her. This was what she learned about the darkness. Its cloying nature, creeping in the back of her mind. The scared part, almost civilian really.

She knew what the light was supposed to be. Enlightenment, to break the void and shine through the darkness. She never learned where that light was supposed to come from though. It was simply the light that broke the darkness. Light, break, light, break. She could almost feel the darkness in her heart as she stood in the training room. Wearing her usual baggy hoody and holding Karuma, scabbard and all, in her left hand. No matter how much she tried to think it over though, enlightenment wouldn't come to her though.

Sighing to herself, she affixes Karuma to her waist, a slight frown. It wasn't something that easy to work through she guessed. It'd be something she finds in adversity most likely. She perks up slightly hearing someone call out to her, turning to watch some stranger walk into her training room. Looking him up from head to toe. A little bit taller than her, kind of an energetic look, he was probably.some go getter type. Alot less soft looking than Mitsu though. She nods at him once as the locks of hair in front of her face Bob and drape over her left eye.

It didn't seem to bother her much though as she returns the greeting.

"Yo, it's not really any trouble if you wanna train together. Afternoon to you too, Karuma, Yuri. It's nice to meet ya."

She extends a hand in greeting, a faint smile on her face.



WC: 571

Still moving the blade between the fingers of his left hand, Koutaku met her smile with one of his own as she replied. Relief washed through him subtly and he felt his apprehension fade away like ash in the wind. Taking her hand in his own, the Iouchiryo shook it as he gave Yuri his name in kind.

“Iouchiryo, Koutaku, but you can just call me Koutaku.” That said he gave her hand a squeeze and another shake, before letting go and stepping past her. Absently he wondered what precisely she’d been doing when he’d arrived. Some kind of meditation perhaps? “I hope it’s alright if I call you Yuri. Ah, what were you doing when I interrupted, Meditation?” There was no judgment there, only curiosity and open interest as he moved further across the room--about 6 meters from her--and then performed a few one-handed seals, casually summoning a katana into his right hand as he finished. He spun it by the hilt casually, reversing his grip, and sending a pulse of chakra through it before stabbing it tip first into the stone floor. He’d picked the weapon up from the storage up front, wanting to test out a longer blade as he had plans to perhaps purchase one for his personal use.

He figured it would likely be useful to have a wide range of weapons for different situations.

Spoiler:

"What was I thinking about?" 

She rests the tip of her index finger on the center of her brow. 

"It's not really anything most people talk about. It's just some stuff my dad taught me. Life lessons and all of that ya know? It's nice to meet ya Koutaku." 

Watching him do one handed seals with a slight interest. It was another one of those ninja related skills she wasn't really familiar with, and never considered the idea of though since she used weapons it was probably one of the handiest things she could learn. Though there was already alot on her plate, she should save it for later. 

"Yuri is fine, I guess I can talk about what I was meditating if you want, though I gotta ask, are you just getting into learning how to use swords like that?" 

A sword was one's soul, but there wasn't anything about this weapon that felt personal. Maybe she was again, applying her world views one sidedly but it really did feel like a tool than a part of someone. Though maybe that was just her inexperience showing. Though even experience couldn't really make a foreign weapon truly part of someone. Her lips purse for a moment, before rising into a smile once more. 


Resting her hands in her pocket as she muses on it. Even if it wasn't someone's specific sword, it still would have a history etched into it, mutual aspiration. That was what she hoped for at least.


WC: 821

“Sounds like a bit of philosophy. I find that it’s always worth hearing how other people see the world,” he said, smiling as she replied. He seemed calmer now, more at ease as the conversation continued. Not noticing her attention to his one-handed seals, Koutaku continued on.

“Hmm, well no, though I’ve used similar blades before,” casually, he withdrew his wakizashi from its sheath. The motion was clearly practiced as if it was an extension of his person--quite different when compared to his use of the katana, even if it had been brief. He smiled subtly at the blade as he regarded it, before sheathing it once more.

“The katana however is a bit different, besides this one isn’t mine. It belongs to the facility. Still, like all weapons, it deserves a measure of respect. That’s why I used my chakra to do what I did there,” he gestured at it standing up, its tip embedded in the stone floor. “That way there’s no chance of me damaging the thing,” he turned his attention to it then, placing a hand on its hilt. Wrapping his fingers around the grip, Koutaku took a slow breath and as he exhaled infused the weapon with chakra. Swiftly, he wreathed the weapon in gently writhing blue-silver energy, and then--using that energy as a conduit--he performed a handseals with his off-hand.

A symbol appeared on the metal pommel of the blade, it was clearly a seal. That done, he let his awareness sink deeper into the blade, synchronizing with it. This was a practice he’d taken the time to do with all his weapons, letting him know their exact distribution of weight, their mass, their center of balance, and dimensions. They became something he knew just as intimately as his hand or arm and given that he’d made it a common practice, it was something that only took him scarcely a few seconds.

Exhaling sharply, Koutaku drew the blade from the ground. The motion was different though, it looked easier, more graceful than his earlier use of the blade. Something had clearly changed.

“That’s better,” he said with a contented sigh before turning his attention back to his training companion. “I’ve always found it important to respect the tools you use. Each one is unique, even when they’re mass-produced. Besides, my Uncle would somehow know if I mistreated a weapon.” He chuckled at the thought, though there was clearly some truth to the statement.

“Anyway, tell me about your father’s philosophy, I’m intrigued.” As he said it he met her eyes a moment before taking a seat on the ground. He wasn’t ready just yet to begin his training proper. His mindset needed to be properly aligned first and that was something he could easily do while holding a conversation.

Spoiler:

"Its a kind of warriors code. Though isn't it proper to share before asking for things like these?" 

Though there probably wasn't a proper etiquette when talking about ideologies, though she couldn't help but look agitated at someone asking her about details out of the blue. It was something personal, and it kind of put her on the spot suddenly without any lead up. Frowning as she lets out a little huff, putting her hands behind her head. 

"Though if you're familiar with the land of iron you might already have something of an idea. Peace, and the the thinking of a samurai. Though my dad wasn't one and my grand dad weren't. You could say that they integrated." 


She lets out a Huff of air slowly, looking towards the ground and just scratching the side of her head. 

"Though honestly it makes being here kind of awkward."

WC: 969

Holding up his hands placatingly, Koutaku replied as he noticed her body language and expression. “I didn’t mean to pry, and I’d be glad to share either way. If you’re not comfortable, don’t feel obligated, after all we’re relative strangers so you owe me nothing.” He gave her a small smile and then tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling as he recalled the philosophy of his kin.

“My philosophy is equal parts...inherited and natural. The members of my family who were shinobi carry a sort of tradition, a belief in the power of the mind and its ability to elevate anyone who truly masters themselves.” He angled a sidelong glance at her and then smirked slightly, before lowering his gaze and drawing the katana from the ground. Taking in a long stilling breath, Koutaku closed his eyes for a moment as he continued.

“We call them the Nine Tenets, but I’ll summarize or this will be more of a lecture than a conversation,” he chuckled at that, one corner of his lips quirking faintly before he slowly exhaled, positioning the katana before him in a two handed grip.

“Essentially, when you are a shinobi, the mind rules all else. Your body, your chakra, the world, and sometimes even others can be guided, controlled, or changed by one with true self-mastery.”

Slowly, chakra wreathed the katana, suffusing it with his will, allowing the tempered steel to channel the essence of his will.

“Chakra is simply the medium through which one’s will is expressed. Your body is the vessel for this medium, and its physical avenue into the world. Your surroundings are the receptacle and will respond in numerous ways to the movements of the Mind, the Medium, and the Vessel. People, each is their own mind, medium, and vessel, but many never master the root and so their power is limited in its scope.”

His chakra began to fold around the blade, layering upon itself. Subtly, if one paid very close attention, they might notice the rippling of a hundred-hundred strands of chakra, all intertwined in perfect harmony. Koutaku continued, “So it is that those who master themselves and act according to that understanding of the two worlds--internal and external--may control those ripples and so dictate which consequences result.”

Then, with a sharp breath, Koutaku slowly swung his blade in a sweeping arc like a reversed ‘J’ and behind the blade’s trail many ghostly echoes of chakra remained. Each swept down the pathway that the sword had taken until they all returned to it. The young man grinned, a mischievous twinkle entering his gaze, his expression one of satisfaction.

Letting go of the chakra, he turned to Yuri, “As to the rest, well, the devil’s in the details and those are of a more private nature.”

That said, Koutaku flipped the blade into a reverse grip and then sheathed it in a series of swift motions, as if he’d wielded the blade all his life.

Spoiler:

Was she really upset because she felt like he was praying though. Her body language tightening into a quiet stoicism topped by a frown as she listens to Koutaku speak. Nodding along at the right moments, it was a sensible ideology and folding her arms. To master the world to master herself, a practical one too, as opposed to what she had heard of Makoto's. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breathe as she tries to steady herself. In a way she felt like she was caught between the two, a sort of midpoint. Her hands clench to her upper arms tightly. 

When she opened her eyes again it felt like she could see a darkness clouding it. She'd thought she'd finally had everything figured out, but even knowing the issue that wouldn't solve anything. Staring at the floor, she felt smaller than anything else. The talk with Makoto came back to her mind, the idea of sins and dying with regret came to her mind, and the difficulty of self mastery came to the fore in her head as she talked to Koutaku. Consciously disassembling her tense posture, her left hand gravitates to the grip of Karuma. 

"My sword is my soul." 

She felt the darkness around her heart start to clear when she recites that to herself. A thoughtful look coming over her face as she starts to draw Karuma from the scabbard, the light glints of the bright and dull greys of the sword. Looking over the wave pattern of the sword's surface calms her, and gives her world more center. Yes, if she felt like she was uncomfortable all she had to do was take a deep breathe and speak from her heart. 

"That, first and foremost is what guides me. The heart, the soul, the mind, they're all the same thing. The undeniable spirit which is the vessel for my beliefs." 

The light glistens as the sword is fully withdrawn, scattering off the blade as the script inscribed into the base near the hilt, 'We are our actions.'. 

"My last name is Karuma, and the name of this sword is Karuma. It's part of me, not just an arm or a leg, but my heart. Which is my intentions, which are my actions." 

Her body language had finally loosened up, and that grim expression was a serene confidence again. It had taken her a moment, she felt like the clouds would darken her heart more and more lately, but like this she was starting to understand little by little how to let the light reach her. A slight smile forming as she held up her katana, angling it to let the light reflect off the gleam of blade.

"There were many values I was taught as a kid, martial ability and how important it was. Peace, and why to seek it, compassion, and its cousin justice so that I can act in an upright fashion. All of this was part of the warrior's way, even non-attachment and releasing the desire to just cling to live. Though the last one is still something that's difficult for me." 

That sword wasn't just something she cared for, it was cherished. A sentimental value unmatched by anything else she'd owned so far. It was only after properly appreciating it that she could genuinely return it to the scabbard, comforted, as she put her metaphorical heart back where it belonged. Still in plain view, but not on display. 

"I'm sorry if I seemed a bit agitated, still not used to this kind of place, and honestly I'm a bit homesick. They say that the warrior's way can only be completely realized when facing death. I'm still hesitant really, but I feel like there's something I need to do, and that's why I'm trying. Even if I'm not sure yet on where I'm trying to go I'm sure I'll figure out the way to go, with my heart that is a sword."

WC: 1631

Though he was hardly as observant as his friend Takashi when it came to the emotions of others, Koutaku still found himself noticing not-so-subtle hints of...not distress precisely, but unease. He didn’t react openly, but he kept in mind the reaction for later. For now he knew that they weren’t really close enough for him to bring it up himself, he’d almost certainly just make her feel uncomfortable if he did. So instead, he simply listened attentively and watched her while she explained her own personal philosophy. Her words brought a smile to his face, as they mirrored things he’d been taught when he was young. Perhaps not in such a foundational way as she clearly had been taught, but still as something he should know and respect.

So it was with a profound appreciation that he listened to her words, some of the underpinnings of her beliefs echoing the tenets of his clan in their way. When she finished, focusing on him again, rather than on the explanation and her own truth, she’d find Koutaku nodding with a smile that matched her own. There were both appreciation and respect in his gaze as he regarded her and strangely, even as she apologized, he remained quiet, giving her a moment of silence and respect. After a brief time had passed, he spoke up in reply, honestly somewhat relieved that she’d brought the topic up herself.

“It has a beautiful simplicity to it, and a depth that goes far beyond its seemingly straightforward stance on the world. I have a great respect for things like that, even if I don’t follow the same paths. Thank you for sharing,” he bowed his head to her respectfully, and as he rose he drew the katana at his hip.

“...and don’t feel too bad, or too daunted. Facing death, and the darkness in ourselves--and the world--are difficult things. We’re only at the beginning of our journeys, so there’s no need to rush.” As he said the words, Koutaku eyed his blade a moment, letting his words linger before moving on.

“Now, since you’ve shared something of yourself and your line. Perhaps I ought to do the same. Would you like to learn something?” He gave her a sidelong glance, a subtle grin touching his lips and lighting up his blue eyes with a mischievous spark.

Spoiler:

"Sharing something?"

She tilts her head slightly at that one. Learning from a peer or superior, or even a student was always a good chance.

"I'm still kind of fresh so I don't think there's anything I can teach you, though if there's anything you need help with I can give it a genuine attempt at least."

She didn't come off as overeager to pay her debt. She understood that it was kind of awkward when someone pushed themselves as being deeply indebted when you didn't care that much. Though she still had to firmly assert that if there was anything they needed that she'd try to help.


WC: 1739