Someone Lost Their Uchiha [Training]

The Village Hidden in Rock would end not with a bang but a whimper. Desperate screams drowned out by the sound of earthquakes reached for ears and eyes already silence by death. Fallen shinobi and mangled corpses strewn across rooftops. Fathers bid farewell to children they promised return. People pointlessly flinging rock from atop those buried beneath debris. Neighbors tugged for them to run. Disbelief brought them to their knees. They wept all the while hoping, this horror was just a nightmare.

The screams were getting closer, but whatever it was out there. It was already here.

From the safety of his room, Shamisen shivered beneath his sheets. On the floor, clattering was his headband. The Genin’s black eyes faced the wall. His ears could not deny the sound of metal tapping about the floor. Then there was silence. The headband ceased its rattling.

Outside all eyes turned to the horizon. The monster emerged from a place no nightmare had visited. Its immensity… eclipsed the sun. It roared. Everyone watched.

Beneath his sheets, the Genin squeezed his fists. One by one, he slid his legs out and placed his feet on the ground. The feel of solid earth reassured him this was real. He squeezed his eyes shut. The sound of metal clattering grew louder. His eyes opened. Irises blood red and marked twice for each time he’d survived death. His Sharingan shone in the darkness. Shamisen clothed himself and charged to battle.

That was third time he’d had the dream. The first emerged from childhood fairy tales and an overactive imagination. He was ten then. The second occurred just two weeks ago. He still didn't understand what it meant. It was 7:00 AM, dim and early. Shamisen, sitting up in his bed looked to the window. Through the four-squared glass, he’d watched rain fall for weeks. A heavy rain, that even when it drizzled from the sky, made everyone sluggish and sad. A constant cloud hovered over the village and everything was beginning to look like different shades of grey.

By 7:45 Shamisen completed his morning routine, stretches, breakfast and his toiletries. He exited home in his white hoodie and sweats. His eyes raised to a grey sky that cried in liquid needles. Shamisen began his walk to where he’d train.

Sen had felt out of place in the Village of Stone. He graduated with a small class of ninja and given the population of Iwagakure. He understood the shortage of shinobi in his country. Every day he, like many others, nurtured a feeling in his stomach that made him feel vulnerable. Hollow, like someone was trying to extract his soul. He looked to the sky. Billowing grey clouds stretched for miles. Weeks ago Shamisen tried escaping them. He ran as far west as he could toward the mountains, but the clouds never cleared. They expanded beyond eyesight in all directions.  They blanketed the sun.

And the effects of the weather were beginning to show. Elders who normally stayed bedridden had begun to complain. They arose from their resting places and came outdoors. They walked with joint trembling steps that struggled for footing in the mud which had culminated ankle-high in the village. And it was the mud that Shamisen hated most. Civilians either had to trudge through the thick slop or stay inside. Naturally, ninja dashed from rooftops and Sen could see in the eyes of the villagers. The growing distaste basket carrying mothers and farmer males had for the shinobi apparently doing nothing to assist them.

The economy had recessed. Crops struggled to find growth and not much product was entering or leaving the country. Not that the mountains bordering made trade easy in the first place. In the Uchiha’s soul, he yearned to return the suns warmth to his village. His eyes settled on the billowing greys above. He wanted to leave too. He was an Uchiha after all; the only of his kind here. He’d considered high ranking missions and the chuunin exams as his opportunities.

He’d arrived. 8:00 AM.

It had morphed into a giant pigsty. The Uchiha’s training area had devolved to a mud bath since the rain’s arrival. The plot, 100x60 meters, was a rectangle shaped field that had once erected straw faced dummies with red bull’s-eyes at the head, shoulders and stomach of the dummies body. The straw mannequins stood by means of a wooden pole pierced into the center of it. However, when the weather altered, in one night everything washed away and was buried beneath layers of viscous mud.

Sen formerly did target practice here, now Sen honed his chakra control and jutsu. People hardly came to this spot in the village before and in its ruined state. It was ghostly vacant. While Sen’s black eyes, looked over the muddy ruin. He’d always hoped someone would join him. A pretty girl, if fate favored.

Shamisen slid down the concrete slab sloping into the muddy plot and pushing off, hopped onto the mud. Balancing his chakra, he remained atop the soil instead of sinking. It was a fairly easy task and in fact, a perfect substance for training Academy students. It was not a concrete surface nor was it fluid as water walking. The Uchiha reasoned he should make the best of this environment, and at some point. Aid a young ninja in his training, by tutoring him here.

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Even Shamisen had begun to notice how much internal dialogue went about his head throughout the day. And the worst of it was, most of it happened to be negative. He reasoned. No proud male would express his feelings to others as a means to relieve them. That was for the… He didn’t know what to call people like that. “Normal,” He joked. The Genin’s eyes scanned over the muddy plot again. Its rundown state almost made him not want to train. He crooked his face to the sky, or perhaps it was the weather.

Never minding his thoughts, Shamisen eyes peered into the distance. At the end of the mud pond, the arena sloped up by means of a concrete slab. And standing on the top of that hill, was a figure. A hundred plus meters distance, made it difficult to discern facial features, but even still. The entirety of the person looked unfamiliar. Whoever this was, Shamisen and he had not become acquainted.

A cold wind swept over the field. It sent Goosebumps up the Uchiha’s forearms. He shook briefly in his white hoodie. Sen activated his Sharingan. Two tomoes for each time he’d survived death. Shamisen reached for three kunai stored in a leather pouch on his back hip. He squeezed their handless between the spaces in his fingers.

As if throwing a shock put, Shamisen simultaneously squatted and pivoted before launching his kunai high in the air. The elevated location and distance of his target made him a difficult hit. In fact, if the wind blew hard enough his kunai might not make it. Shamisen aimed his kunai in an arc. They would sail up and out towards the target before falling atop them. A child could dodge an attack so obvious and when training at this particular field. Everyone knew, rain or not. True shinobi were always prepared for competitive gest from their peers.

The kunai sailed as plan, turning perfectly in their arc to their target, and,whoever it was. They were fast. Shamisen watched at a distance a blur of a person evade his attack and then vanish. The Uchiha was impressed and alarmed. His Sharingan scanned the area for anything while his ears listened carefully. Seconds crawled by as anxiety grew in the silence of the moment. Nothing happened. The Uchiha's body eased as he stood straight. He decided that was enough for today. He had a feeling there might be a mission for him to do.

[Exit]