Chrome [Training-Finished]

[Icarus]

It was to be a day of training, mundane in that it would be the same sequence of learning and then employing his fresh knowledge in exercises, but a bit new today. Higan had borrowed a katana with which to practice the very basics of kenjutsu with, an art that he had longed to begin his road of achievement in. Having only a naginata in his possession, the owner of the dojo refusing to teach him through that sword. He had also talked the local dojo owner into sparing him a training dummy as well as a bit of time alone with which to hone his skills, he didn’t have much money so instead he promised to clean the dojo once or twice within the time he spent at the village. It seemed like a bit of an unfair trade to be honest, a training dummy seemed like an expensive object to him but to be honest he wasn't really one to complain in this situation. The grip of the katana felt a bit weird in his hands, in that he had expected it to be very much lighter. But then again all the academy afforded their students to practice with were bokken, and of course that was a disaster when it turned into an all-out fight.

He charged forward madly with the only knowledge of how to attack with a sword, a horizontal attack he was sure was the way to go. He slammed the blade down, the dummy did not become two like a hot knife through butter it, however, did make a loud sickening crack. He twisted and turned the blade in his hands. He raised the sword again this time it was diagonally positioned. He raised it up and quickly brought it down, the blade cleanly cut the dummy after a bit of force halfway through. He raised the sword back up and slid it back into the sheathe, a bead of sweat was on his brow, but not from exertion it appeared that he was simply "into it" a great deal. He began to think he might enjoy kenjutsu on many more levels than he thought.

[Icarus]

This time, he had impressed the dojo master and was granted the use of training dummies whenever he was in the area and generally felt like he needed one. The katanas however were all occupied when he asked for one. This left him in quite the conundrum. He thought and he thought as he set down the enormous iron weight of his naginata. It seemed that he would have to simply be content with waiting while the more senior looking members of the club demonstrated or taught their various sword skills in front or to the junior members. At the very least he could take advantage of this moment and see some visual representations of what he would be doing or attempting soon. Their forms were fluid as they continued to drill and even occasionally spar for the next few hours. At last the time came, the members began to sheathe and deposit their katana in what acted as the dojo's armory. He entered the armory and procured one of the random katana and then sought out his usual training dummy and with it a secluded spot. He lifted the sword from the sheathe and admired it and its expert craftsmanship, how it had a wave and no bumps anywhere on the blade, it seemed like a tool of a precision rather than a weapon.

He swung the sword a few times, satisfied with the results he charged at the new dummy, a mockery of a nuke nin, it had a penciled in headband with sunagakure's emblem and a scratch through it. This dummy was a rather unorthodox one in that it was made with basic retaliation in mind, if one attacked it, it would swing back and one was to block or dodge. He swung at a spot outlined in the middle of its torso, just above the pelvis and then proceeded to duck as it turned around using his force as its momentum to swing back at him. He blocked breaking its spin totally, the fake arm fell off cleanly cut. He then sliced the head off the one to the right and stabbed the one to his left until it looked like a human swiss cheese. He swung his sword swiftly shaking off imaginary blood as he let it become part of the inside of his sheathe, his hand ached both from and for the grip again, but for now it was gone for the time being. He wondered how it would turn out in live combat and not just fake dummies swinging.

[Icarus]

The dojo master had given him his first guided lesson, with his own special type of iron katana, he preferred it that way regardless. As the sword contoured to the image within his head, he hardened it and closes his hand on the grip. There was a single dummy in front of him but he could take no longer than a few breaths worth of time in order to cut it. He hardly thought this was possible, but he would try anyway. He ran towards the dummy sword in hands and rose over his head, as he brought it down a loud clank was heard. The dojo master had blocked his strike with a nod conveying that wasn’t quite the right way.

He rose from his cross legged position, the master with countless years of dedication straightened out his feet, bent his legs and flexed them. He exhaled all his breath and slowly wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his beautifully carved sword. In a blink with which Higan could not follow in the least the head of the was off and the master already had the sword back within his own sheathe. He then continued to sit back down once more. He nodded for him to attempt to mimic his moves.

Higan gripped his sword, an outer layer formed around his sword making an iron sheathe. He bent down slightly, his legs flexed and his hands slowly wrapping around the hilt meant exactly for him. He breathed out all the air in his body tightening his core. He leveled his eyes with the dummy and released all his muscles as he dashed forward. When his rush of adrenaline subsided he was behind the dummy. Half of it held by the wooden stand, half on the floor. He turned to the master who nodded in approval.

[Icarus]

Now that he had his first technique down Higan considered himself mildly trained in the ways of the sword but of course mildly trained would still leave him vulnerable to the common mass of ninja in the world regardless of them being genin, chuunin, and god forbid jounin! He of course could solve this plan if he improved his close quarter’s combat skills. and by close quarters combat he meant kenjutsu. And by improve he meant beat someone upside the head with a sword.

The sword of iron that he so coveted manifested into his hands and was born of chakra thoughts and iron. He hardened it to the exact hardness of any sword out there. A truly deadly weapon when one thought about it. He squeezed the grip and made the firm contour to his grip. He could have any weapon in the world at just the slightest whim. But it was all for naught, completely worthless, and a waste in all angles if he couldn’t use the weapon. That was why he was in the dojo today.

With his new knowledge of kenjutsu his strikes were more precise, they lacked the common man's retard aim and blind fury yet they retained the same strength. He moved with a now less rigid form, his sword whistled through the air as he parried the students. He was at the time a practice target for a group of students that were considered senior at his dojo. The occasional crack of pain ripped through his body and tore his concentration asunder yet he persevered. The way of the ninja was paved with suffering as well as strife in almost every way shape and form imaginable. He would pave his own path to greatness but he would have to start like everyone else, and that was from the very bottom. It was a very long way but he was sure he would make it. One by one a student fell, no longer was he avoiding a myriad of sword but now he was concentrating harder and better, the spectating master was nodding at the progress. His eyes taking in all and leaving nothing. The final student and he were left. The student slashed at his sword, and at that moment he disassembled the sword letting him fall to the ground as he cracked his fist into his head knocking him out. Maybe I need more opponents next time He smirked at his progress; he was going to walk down that path.

[DAVID BOWE]

twenty three exp addition

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