004 - How to end the year with a bang (and beat up people)
By the time my first year at the Academy was ending, I had fallen into a comfortable routine and couldn't even remember what worried me so much in the first place. All in all, things were going well… I should've known it wouldn't last.
Eyeing the official-looking envelope offered to me as if it was some sort of particularly nasty viper, I suppress the urge to sudder. Instead addressing the messenger -Muku- with my best icy demeanor. Honestly, my best isn't all that good. Young girls don't really have the necessary facial structure to make it work.
-"What's this supposed to be?"
Muku smiles with that disarming apologetic smile of his. It gets on my last nerve, but I just can't get angry at him when he does that.
-"It's from Ryūzetsu's mother, she was supposed to deliver it, but well… You know how she can get when it's about you."
-"Irrationally hostile and recklessly belligerent?"
I finish for him distractedly, carefully taking away the envelope and checking it for traps. Not that I know how to check envelopes for traps, just hoping for an excuse to delay the unavoidable. I
really don't want to open it.
-"I was... trying
not to put it into words."
-"... My apologies." -Oh, look! I made the atmosphere uncomfortable!- "It's kind of cute of her?"
Muku winces at my poorly thought words, and I struggle not to do the same. Yeah, not my best attempt.
-"Let's… not let her hear that, if you would?"
I nod apologetically, what I suspect is a social bomb still held in my hand. I wonder if it's too late to incinerate it with one of those Katon techniques I can't actually perform and vanish from the face of the Earth for a couple of centuries?
-"Aren't you going to open it?"
I blink in a way I suspect paints a rather dumb picture of me, before realizing he's still here. Occupied with what I suspect is a mild panic attack, he kind of slipped my mind. Blinking a couple more times to no effect, I finally concede and focus on the package.
The stuffy formal appearance hints at something clan-related, which really narrows down the possible contents. Like a lot. Well, no point in procrastinating anymore. It could still be something completely unrelated.
Aaaaand… An invitation to some nonsense traditional clan get-together, for myself and a guardian of choice -as if I would choose anyone but Mother- since I was an Academy Student and thus part of the Shinobi system. With RSVP, which in ninja clans is basically a subtle way of letting you know that attendance is mandatory.
And it was for tomorrow. Fan-freakin'-tastic.
-"...Damn." -Of course it isn't something else. Even without the heavily implied command, my situation means I can't really reject without causing an intra-village diplomatic incident and probably giving Mother a headache. That with Mother's divorce, the lifetime isolation from them and
that man's incompetently traitorous tendencies- "Tell the kind of cute irrationally hostile and recklessly belligerent bitch I'll be honoured to assist and all that crap. Now shoo, I have a packed schedule and you're getting in the way of me trying to laze around."
Spoilers: I
didn't manage to laze around. Stupid Shimada blood.
I should have expected this.
Seriously, why the heck did I not see it coming?
I mean, I'm supposed to be a genius, and this development was painfully predictable.
Stupid Shimada blood.
What happened, you ask? Just the most pointless five hours of pregnant tension and useless worry of my entire life, that's what happened.
After getting the clan invitation, I was understandably unsettled. What exactly was waiting for me at the Haizuki Compound the following day? Mother hadn't told me peep about
that man's clan even after I confronted her with Ryūzetsu's presence in my class, so I only had rumors and speculation about them.
They had a Kekkei Genkai that was very hush-hush, a reputation as schemers and politicians that you'd never guess from Ryūzetsu alone, and Mother didn't like them. Well, that last one might be an overstatement. I strongly suspect nothing Mother dislikes survives for long. More like they're treated like a specially foul-smelling smoke fume. You avoid it, but it's not worth the effort of deatomizing the source.
All speculation and hearsay, as I already mentioned. Especially about Mother, nobody knows how Mother thinks, except maybe Mother herself.
In any case, I had to talk to her about this. It couldn't be pushed back any longer. What was our own clan's relationship with them? And I mean down to the last detail. Like it or not, I'm kind of a heiress, and my words and actions matter in an official setting. I wouldn't -couldn't- make Mother's life more difficult by stumbling there.
And the damn event was the following day. And Mother wasn't at home when I arrived. Because she was on a mission outside the Village and there was no guarantee that she would be back on time to coach me about this, or even to escort me there. Another grave issue I had failed to contemplate.
It had probably been planned that way, given the Haizuki Clan scheming reputation.
I could barely focus on my training the whole evening, worrying myself sick and picturing progressively unlikely scenarios. By nightfall I was convinced the invitation was a clever ploy to separate me from Mother and then use some sort of forbidden seal to bend me to their will. They would then use my knowledge of the future and alternative realities to build an army of orbital mechas capable of razing the Elemental Countries with laser beams. Ninja lasers. And maybe train an army of three-eyed radioactive giant scorpions. With two stingers.
Then Mother arrived. The sheer volume of relief I felt hearing her greetings was only matched by the frustrated self-loathe that immediately followed.
Of course Mother had arrived.
Of course she would be around for tomorrow's event.
Of course she was two steps ahead of the Haizuki Clan. What the hell had I been thinking?
Then we actually talked about the gathering, and I discovered it was actually a pretty harmless thing without anything at stake. Sure, I might risk causing some amusement if I said the wrong thing, but nobody expected me to be an accomplished diplomat nor did my words carry any weight.
Probably a lesser woman would feel confused, maybe even horrified, at the way I unceremoniously proceed to repeatedly bash my head against the table while muttering self-deprecating ravings. It's just like me to build a castle out of a grain of sand, really.
Stupid Shimada blood.
Mother just arches a brow, more amused than anything else, if I were to venture a guess at her feelings.
-"With how mature you always act, it's hard to remember you're only eight" -She finally says, once my forehead is too sore to keep hitting the table- "I got tomorrow free, so I guess I could escort my cute little daughter to some festivities. It'll be good mother-daughter bonding time."
I snort at that. I can picture Mother doing many things. Great, terrible things, but my brain simply refuses to picture how it would be to have...
bonding time with her. It'll probably involve dodging lethal implements of some fashion or another. At best.
Then the previous statement registers.
-"Wait, you were going to leave me to fend with those hyenas alone?"
-"They aren't
that bad." -She hesitates- "And they are your family."
Was that a statement or a question, Mother dear? For the record,
she is my family, the Haizuki are just the somewhat annoying distant cousins you have to bear with for time to time. And Ryūzetsu, who is the definitively annoying distant cousin you have to bear with on a daily basis.
-"If you say so, Mother…"
I plop on the table, mentally exhausted after a whole evening of pointless panicking and, surprisingly enough, Mother lets me laze around until dinner. She seems to be in a good mood, I guess she got to torture kittens in her mission or something.
The 'little clan get together' happened to be a somewhat grandiose fair-type celebration. There were stalls with food and games, wide tables where people sat to discuss the latest politics or clan business -read: gossip- with a cup of tea in hand and a gaggle of brats running around and making noise. Never knew there were that many Haizuki in Grass.
As it turns out, mother-daughter bonding time with Mother consists in wandering calmly from stall to stall, casually demolishing games and proving Shimada metabolism takes a lot of nutritional intake to keep at top condition, verbally lashing anyone who felt entitled to throw insinuations our way -a surprising amount, all things considered. It's like they don't know who Mother is- and enjoy the soft breeze of this warm-yet-not-too-hot early summer day.
It's all quite fun.
Even if the insinuations got tiresome after a while. Seriously, I get
that man had brought shame to their Clan, but he'd shamed Mother too! Trying to blame her for it was beyond dumb. At least I had the satisfaction of knowing no individual had tried twice. While my humble sharp tongue might've been able to reduce a brat to tears by the time I entered the Academy, Mother can do the same with fully grown up adults.
Actually, scratch 'fun'. I was having a blast. And learning to wield dry sarcasm as a weapon from the best! Moreover, Mother finally got around telling me about the Haizuki in depth, and man, I mean
in depth. Name, place in the family tree, affluence and influence, both overt and covert, tastes, routines, blackmail material and threat level of pretty much every assistant is ruthlessly dissected for our personal amusement.
Then, after the fifth consecutive 'threat level non-existent' and with something that could be a slightly apologetic expression, Mother deigns herself to abandon her personal threat level scale and uses a more traditional measure system. One where there is… you know, someone under Kage in the 'vaguely threatening' level.
All in all, the anxiety from yesterday is a thing of the past. My mood couldn't be better and I can't even bring myself to care when I find out Ryūzetsu -because of course it's her fault- has somehow nagged her parents into arranging a series of exhibition duels amongst the attending shinobi brat hopefuls. Including me, of course.
Whatever, I'll elegantly lose again and everything will be fine.
… That's when I notice the whispers. Here and there, groups of two or three people are throwing sly looks our way and stage-whispering disparaging comments about me and my… less than commendable practical performance in the Academy. I wouldn't care at all, if they weren't insinuating it all was somehow Mother's fault.
It's a setup if I've ever seen one. Textbook taunts that I could see coming a mile ago. Plus, Mother can kick ass on her own without me getting all riled-up. Actually, in a Village-versus-Mother no-holds-barred match, you wouldn't catch me betting against her no matter how good the odds.
Case is, their yapping changes nothing, I still don't want to stand out.
…
Mother isn't even fazed by the comments and, if I could hear, so could her. A hundred times better.
…
Nuhup, elegantly losing in round one.
…
I'm sorry, I lied.
Somehow, I made it to the finals. Can you believe it?
And Ryūzetsu even looked so confident when she stood in front of me last round! I almost felt bad about wiping the floor with her face. Literally and repeatedly. Until she gave up. Something that took a while, that with her mouth being full of dirt and all that.
… I might be a slightly vindictive person, and all this mess is her fault. After today, I can kiss goodbye to my reputation as a strictly theoretical genius.
Oh, well, anything worth doing is worth doing right, and I'm already here so might as well do my best. Even if my last opponent is Muku.
I might've mentioned it before, but Muku is a monster. One of those 'talent of the generation' creatures of pure skill and power that the shinobi world seems to give birth with relative frequency. Seriously, out of every ten students who drop the Academy, nine did it because they felt they couldn't compete.
… That's a joke, once joining the Academy, graduation is mandatory, in Grass, at least. But Muku's no less of a monster just because people aren't allowed to run for their lives. Seriously, how can someone so cute be so strong? Shouldn't it be against the Geneva Convention or something?
Oh, wait, ninja. We don't care.
-"Are the contestants ready?"
Ah... crap. He's already in front of me! Also, fresh like lettuce, because his last match was before mine, and I took my sweet time letting Ryūzetsu taste all the subtle flavours and fragrances of the dust and dirt stepped on by generations of her ancestors.
Ryūzetsu who, for some unfathomable reason, is Muku's best friend.
Man I'm so screwed.
-"Shimada? I won't ask again!"
Okay, Ran. Don't try anything flowery here, or you'll be outplayed, and then eat dirt. Don't improvise, or you'll be countered, and then eat dirt. Don't fall into patterns, or you'll be predicted and then eat dirt. Don't overextend, or you'll make a fool out of yourself and then eat dirt.
Stick to what you know that works, close your defense, take pot-shots whenever possible, but be mindful of feints. Don't overextend. Keep your cool, bait
him into overextending. Pray to all the gods of war and mercy and, most important: Whatever happens, never, ever, under any circumstances, lose.
Easy… right?
I send a last, desperate look towards Mother. Okay, desperation is all inside, because if I break my poker face here, I won't ever live it down. Case is, suddenly the option of giving up is looking really appealing. Then something so unexpected it can be considered paranormal happens.
Mother smiles, and mouths the words 'Make me proud'.
Oh, dear. Now I have no choice, do I?
Stupid Shimada mom.
Five minutes in, I had to stop paying attention to the time, because Muku decided it was enough warming up and has been rising the tempo ever since. I've done my best to dish out the pain while keeping it away from myself, but Muku's form and physical strength are leagues above the rest of the class.
For every hit I barely dodge or deflect by a hair's breadth, there's another one already halfway to my face. Trying to grapple is a lost cause, and I find myself wondering whether there's some sort of eel Kekkei Genkai in his blood, so slippery he is.
For time to time, I manage to lash out with a fist or a knee, but he just jumps away with the hit, minimizing the already negligible damage I could cause through his damn perfect guards. It's frustrating, it's tiring and it's painful. The fact I'm somehow standing my ground makes everything three times worse, because I have to look pathetic from the outside, but don't really have an excuse to give up.
By the time a lull allows me to check the sun, it's already some two hours later. To my pain, tiredness and frustration you can add boredom. Well, not actual boredom, I don't have time for that, but a dull sort of mental fatigue that comes from continuing a repetitive task, no matter how adrenaline-inducing such a task is. And keeping my head attached to my shoulders is pretty adrenaline inducing, thank you.
Anyway, I must be losing my common sense, because I decide to hell with not improvising and/or overextending, and his next opening finds a
[Shimada Knuckle Sandwich Special (Newly Named Technique)] saying hello to his ribs. He even takes it, huh. Must be as mentally tired as I'm myself if he actually fell for that.
Of course, he still manages to jump away with the impact, trivializing the damage and leaving me with the frustrating sensation I've punched a pillow again. At least I'll earn some points… Can I win this match by points? That would be kind of lame but at this point I'd take it.
Not that I have time to ask the referee though, because Muku comes back with a vengeance. And if I thought he was playing rough before, that's nothing compared with now. His next kick actually makes a crater where I was standing a second before, and I could barely see him coming.
His follow up is a relentless barrage, and is hard to accept this is the same opponent I was fighting a minute ago. Speed and aggression have gone through the roof, he's even letting out some killing intent. Granted, his textbook-perfect technique suffers a bit, but at this point, that only makes him harder to predict.
Somehow, somewhat, I manage to keep myself from taking a clean hit, but finding an opening to attack myself is kind of impossible. Heck his last kick I blocked with my elbow, angling it perfectly to deal damage to his ankle, and all I got for my efforts was a sickening crunch and a sore arm. The monster doesn't seem to even flinch a little.
There's a couple more instances like that, where a perfect counter turns out absolutely ineffective. Heck, I managed to drop all my weight on his left wrist at some point and, far from incapacitating his arm, he almost brains me with that same fist a second later.
I'm running out of ideas, and maybe missing a good Raiton to try and fry his nervous system a little bit. That should give him pause… right? Still, prodigious or not, I'm a first year Academy student and they won't teach us nature manipulation for some years yet. Actually, forget elemental releases, without even ninpo at my disposal and weapons being banned from the encounter, my options are very, very limited.
As in, desperate enough to actually consider ripping off the
[Frontal Lotus] from Lee, provided I can find an opening in lieu of
[Shadow Dance] that, of course, I have no idea how to perform. And figure out a way to imprint that kind of rotation… somehow. Hey I'm improvising here, trying to draw inspiration from an anime series to pull an impossible victory out of my ass. So bite me. At least Muku's technique keeps degrading the longer we fight.
Half-expecting him to grin and bear again, I counter his latest charge with a kick aimed at the same leg that elbow block from before should've incapacitated and, to my surprise, he throws himself aside instead. Huh, that move was needlessly emphashized. Is he trying to lure me in?
But his loss of balance is simply too good to let go and, wary of unexpected counters, I slip around his line of sight and behind him. Quickly, but carefully, ready to abort and cut loses the second a movement out of place reveals his own plans, I throw him into the air with my best upwards kick, timing my jump after him to catch up as soon as he begins his descent.
Judging by the sudden gasps all around, my successful air grapple surprises the public as much as myself, but I can't afford to count my eggs just yet. You see, the only possible explanation for Lee's vertical-axis rotation I can come up with is 'the power of youth', and that's
so beyond me.
But I have a prodigious mind, and physics knowledge miles ahead of what's actually expected, so instead I use maths, and put a much easier to pull horizontal-axis rotation on my move. This isn't the
[Frontal Lotus] anymore, but assuming my hasty calculations are right, our crazy-ass spin will stop with Muku's head on the ground. If this doesn't stop him cold, I'm surrendering.
-"
[Shimada Hiden - Fuusha no Ran (Shimada Secret Technique - Pinwheel Orchid)]!"
There's a very satisfying cracking sound when we hit the ground, but after all the shit I've been taking this duel, I'm not cheering just yet. Instead, I jump away, keeping a relaxed guard stance and doing my best to catch my breath without showing how freaked out I am.
I mean, the hell happened with all those rules I had at the start of the match? Is there a single one I didn't break?... Okay, I'm pretty sure I didn't fall into any pattern, but that's it. Also, now that Muku is down and the haze of adrenaline clears up a bit, I might've noticed that last recently named technique isn't just potentially lethal, but to make sure he was hit on the head, my own nape had to graze the ground on the last spin. Just a couple of centimeters off-course and it would've been me lying on the ground like a stringless puppet. Sure hope I didn't kill him tho, mighty favour to do to the only classmate I can actually stand.
At least there isn't any blood and… he's standing up. What. The. Hellish. Hell?
The referee stops the count and closes in, whispering something in his ear that he answers with a curt nod, eyes fixed on me. As we make eye contact, there's something on his look that makes me shiver with… anticipation?
What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I a battle freak? A masochist? Or just so incapable of backing down from a fight I'm willing to keep taking on this monster until he finally grabs a hold on me and breaks me like a twig?
-"You know what? Screw it." -Nobody is close enough to hear my muttering, so I raise my voice- "Continuing this duel might end up in severe injuries unwarranted in an exhibition match, I surrender."
An incredulous silence falls on the spectators as I give up, I wonder what the hell has they so surprised? Have we been in the same fight? It's not like I want to end up with a fucking broken bone, or permanent brain damage. That's no way to start the holidays. Shrugging at their incomprehensible behaviour, I turn to leave. As I'm walking away, a loud thump makes me look back and catch Muku unceremoniously deciding to take a nap right there.
Huh, never pegged him for the type. The more you know someone...
Mother smiled all the way back home, and I was too giddy to be creeped out. I mean, maybe I lost the fight, but it was tense and exciting and I haven't felt so good in… forever! I don't even mind how my good clothes -remember, this was supposed to be some sort of celebration- got ruined beyond all hope of repair, or how I'm all sweaty and sore and covered in dirt and bruises, because it's been
great! I can't wait to… Wait a moment.
Stupid Shimada blood. It does come with a berserker switch after all.
Still, we have omurice for dinner and by the time I hit the Academy tomorrow everyone will know I can trounce anyone in a spar if I bother to take it seriously -Well, anyone but Muku, who is a damn beast, as previously stated- and I won't be able to laze around anymore and I can't bring myself to care because my body is still soaked in dopamine and tomorrow will be a bitch but that's a problem for Future Ran.
Today, I kicked ass and took names, and it doesn't matter I never wanted to, because now I have it and it's too soon to regret it, so I hug and even contemplate kissing Mother -just contemplate. I'm giddy, not suicidal- and go to bed thinking about how I most likely ruined the Haizuki Clan show of force.
Actually, I'm probably doing the clan a favour, because Mother can be surprisingly protective when the time's right, and setting me to be humiliated most likely counts as 'right time'. Let me remind you Mother's ass-kicking only has two settings, 'disciplining daughter' and 'smoldering crater' and I'm pretty sure only I ever get the first setting.
I'm so privileged.
Also, tomorrow is the last day before the summer holidays, so I won't have to worry about breaking character till we start our second year, so that's good. It also means I'll have a lot of alone time with Mother right as I decided to show all and sundry I'm actually a competent fighter. That's bad.
Still Future Ran's problem. Sweet Akasha bless that girl, who takes all the shit I raise without a word of complaint.
Our last day is remarkably subdued. I mean, rumours are running rampant and everyone eyes me fearfully and apparently I threw Muku all the way to the mountains, or maybe I threw the mountain
at him. Depends who you ask. Neither Ryūzetsu nor Muku assisted today and I don't like talking, so there's no one to put a stop to the wilder rumours.
I'm also sore as fuck, and too preoccupied with the shit Past Ran rose yesterday to pay much attention to anything. It's not like we have actual lessons on our last day anyway.
Later I learn they're both in the hospital, and Muku even has some broken bones. I wonder if they fell down the stairs or something? Picturing that monster tripping and falling down the stairs is somewhat amusing. Picturing
Ryūzetsu tripping and Muku trying to grab her and ending up wounding himself worse is even better. Damn the scene in my mind seems straight out from a school romcom.
Man I needed that laugh.
… This summer's gonna suck.