Board Thread:Kirigakure Logs/@comment-27960448-20160330012102/@comment-27960448-20160330012125

"I want to be stronger. I want to be stronger then them all. I want to be able to strike a different type of fear into a person. I want someone to fear me for being me, not for having something. I want to be able to stop someone from messing with my friends with a simple glare. I want people to see the symbol of our clan and run the opposite direction. I want it all.. I want strength. I want power. I want skill. I'll be the strongest shinobi in the world one day and that's a promise!"

Mizumi screamed to himself, smacking his palm against his forehead heavily as if trying to cause actual harm to himself. A tear came to his eye, flowing down the side of his face like a gentle stream, gitting against the sharpened rocks that were his young, chiseled features, along with thickened, full lips that were tainted a pale pink. His face showed pure discouragement. He seemed to be angry at the world more and more recently, his demeanor growing a bit dark. He was frustrated that he was losing his place, losing his role. He was known as the naturally skilled one. The one everyone knew and expected to grow into a fine shinobi since birth. But with the presence of the chunin exams looming over his head, he was slowly losing his confidence, and was finding more and more drastic ways to prepare for them. Karihime, his friend, had been training so hard with his father and with others around the village to get stronger, that he made Mizumi look like the slacker. He made him look like he wasn't the skilled one. He was growing so much every day, to become a real natural at medical ninjutsu. He was even growing up, as a person, and was less afraid of things as he had previously been, having seen the world now more for what it really is.

Mizumi was strong, definetely stronger than you're average ruck-of-the-muck genin from the bloody mist. They all possessed the intent to kill easily, because the ones who didnt, were killed. It was a simple system, which bred nothing but the finest shinobi and soldiers, children or not. What if a village that used nurturing instead of bloodshed as a formula could create stronger shinobi than the Mist could? Questions that ran through his mind on a daily basis, tearing his brain to pieces with each passing second. he felt like he was losing himself. If Kari was now the strong one, what was his role? Where was his strength needed?- And when, could he possibly be an attribute towards any contribution. He felt useless, falling into a slow and premature state of depression each day. Only about a week and a half away, he knew that because of his prowess, he'd more than likely be one of the genin chosen to participate in the exams all the way in the land of fire. It was so far away from home. But despite his fear of traveling to an unknown country, fighting an unknown enemy, he refused to show said emotions to anyone there, anyone who dared to oppose him. He had one goal, and that was to defeat everyone there. His goal was to reestablish his strength as their groups initial leader outside of Shusuke-Sensei, and despite the doubts in his mind he had; he knew that he could do it. He just had to work hard; no, he had to work harder. He had to try more than he ever should. He made a fatal mistake just a few short weeks before.

Mizumi had refused to participate in Shusuke-Sensei's team exercise, immediately displaying his personality as an isolationist. He liked to work alone, and would rather skip over the baby steps to learn things that will really help him defeat his enemies. Little did he know, those baby steps would lead to techniques and abilities he couldn't imagine. Who knew just controlling your chakra would amount to something so great? Both Kai and Kari were now utilizing techniques that were parented by the training that Shusuke-Sensei had taught them both. Mizumi refused to fall behind. He was going to teach himself, as he always did. Well sometimes he trained with his father but that was besides to point, because when it came down to terms of classification, he was looked at as more of an independent shinobi than anything else. He indeed didn't mind incorporating his skills with his friends' to form fluid teamwork, but, he did work best by himself. Though as sad as it was true, shinobi who work alone in this world usually have shorter careers; he planned to be the one exception.

The day was progressing and he still hadn't done a thing. So in a fit of rage and impatience he immediately got dressed. His clothes consisted of the usual. A black, fishnet top beneath a battle-kimono with golden embroidery hung over the trails and trims of the garment. He wore grey flak pants held to his waist by a black, leather belt that was ended in a silver buckle. Thickened bandages were wrapped tightly around his ankles for support and covering the majority his feet while leaving his toes revealed, was your standard shinobi sandal. Now leaving the house, he was focused on one thing. He had just recently trained with Kari himself; and every time he trains with him, he picks up something new, a new skill, or form, that allows him to go into his own training and adapt into something similar. Their last training together, he saw how Kari effortlessly began to climb the tree by simply molding the chakra into his feet, controlling it and flowing it to allow his gravitational pull to pull in a different direction than usual. it was no simple feat; and Mizumi was in awe of such skill. Something like that could be useful; what if he could learn to flow it through his weapons, through his shurikens? Those were by far his favorite projectile. It didn't favor kunai much, but shurikens, the possibilities were endless. This excited him.

Going out to the third official training area of Kirigakure, he knew that this place would be perfect. It was a simple field, surrounded by trees, directly next to a small river, which crashed against a shore made of small stones and low grass. Here he could focus; here he could train. He unlatched his fan from its holster upon arrival, and laid it down gently into the grass beneath. He also, threw one of his two pouches down into the grass with it. With a lot of focus, Mizumi would turn his attention towards the trunk of a tree nearby, massive in height, with leaves that created an overcast of shade in which gave him the cool environment he needed for constant movement. Looking closely, before digging his toes into the grass; he began his spring off of a firm push. His body was launched forward, his arms swinging to his sides to create momentum. His back foot pushed him into a jump, while his forward foot rose to meet the tree. He took only a few steps upward before he lost his footing, unable to control the chakra in his feet and legs long enough to scale it completely. He fell down, onto his back, a thickened root crashing into his spine as he released a collection of spit from over his lips.

"Agh!"

Coughing up more spit, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, before reverting back to his former stance and location to try it again. He was determined to get this right, no matter how many times it took! His exposed toes dug into the grass beneath as his foot was bent downward to increase traction. And with another push, he was off, the wind scurrying beneath his feet at such speed, as his arms flailed wildly at any attempt to increase his momentum.

"I'm gonna do it this time!" He said, in great confidence, as his front foot met with the trunk of the tree, leaving a print inside of it from the force of impact. His arms still flailed as he attempted to climb upward with only his feet, though he had only taken 4 steps this time up the massive tree, until falling back down into the grass, severing an anthill. Getting back up to his feet, he cocked his foot back a great deal, before launching it with great strength at the ant pile, angry and discouraged at the fact that he hadn't yet successfully done it. Ants of great number flew into the river close by, whilst chunks of dirt from their colony landed a great deal away. He was always so hard on himself if he didn't learn something instantly, when no one was that good. Exhaling deeply, he dusted himself off, and removed the dead ants from their place between his toes, the dirt coating his nails now. Shrugging his previous fall off, he had direct intentions of getting it done this time. He figured if he really concentrated, it wouldn't be that hard. He was standing in his starting place that had been his starting place his first few attempts. With great concentration, he looked forward. Blades of grades were seen sticking out from his long, sapphire strands of hair flowing freely over his face and back. An eerie green glow began to flicker beneath his feet, and with that as a sign he pressed forward once more. Now running his top speed, he reached into the pouch in which he left on his back, and grabbed out one kunai. Placing it in his hand, he went to great lengths to climb the tree once more. His first foot met with the trunk of the tree, shaking leaves from its mane. Then the second, and the third, and the fourth. He was getting higher than he had got any time previous to this one; and he was excited to do so. Running up the tree he made a total of 6 steps before slicing the bark with a horizontal slash of his kunai to mark the height, and then jumping backwards to land gracefully on his feet.

"Halfway there."

He said while panting, breath flowing through his mouth and over his lips to create a dry sensation. He was directly halfway of where he need to be in terms of climbing the tree; and his following attempts would help him get to the very top! He went back into his place, and tried, again, and again, and again. He was dynamically frustrated, but wasn't giving up. Marks on the tree showed his apparent progress and his ability to easily get higher and higher each time now. It was this time that he planted his feet deeply into the grass, very deep. He was determined to get there, to get to the highest point he possibly could. His hair was filled with branches, twigs, and an assortment of shrubbery. His clothes were damaged and dirty, down to the last strand of cloth. His face had splotches of dirt and even blood from falling too hard. It was clear that he had been working hard; very clear. He looked forward, his eyes focused on one thing: the top of the tree. With a great pulse of chakra beneath his feet, he launched himself into one final spring. He was ready to be successful, and to be great. He took long strides towards the tree, and launched himself upward enough for his foot to hit a higher mark than any starting leap. A green aura formed beneath his feet, seemingly holding his body to the tree with each step, one after the other. He took large strides up the tree too, his foot hovering over his last highest marker with ease, as he readied his kunai for marking. Before he could even reach to slice, he blinked and opened his eyes back up to see that he had already been at the top, and was standing still at the last revealed part of the bark of the large tree. He grunted in confidence, feeling quite proud of himself, before the green glow faded and he was swept off his feet, falling down to the grass below.

"I think that's enough for today."

he said, rubbing his rear end after receiving such a large impact; he had made as much progress as he could by himself, but he felt like for the next day and stage of his training, he'd like to be with a friend.

(The End)