An# I've always been a fan of naruto and after years of dithering I've finnally begun to write my own fic. I'll be posting it in snips as i write so I'll be asking for guidance in all that i do to make this the best fic possible. So if you come across anything out of place or hard to understand let me know so i can try and take care of it.
00000
Prologue.
Thunk.
His fist impacted wood.
Hideki, meet log. Log, Hideki. I hope you get along well.
Thunk.
Hideki found that it was easier not to think at times like these. Not on his own actions at least. Or he would over analyze his motions. Contemplate whether or not he was wasting his time. On easier ways to accomplish his goals.
The same trap many others had fallen into. They stopped. They thought. They faltered.
Thunk.
He wouldn't. He hadnt.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
Push. Bang! Hideki's fist lashed out. His knuckles smoking from the contact. Too slow. Thunk thunk thunk. A wooden metronome. His personal time keeper. Screw a clock.
They can't fight if they cant breathe. Steal the air from their lungs with shots to the-
Twist your hips. Everything's connected. Turn your wrist. Everything flows. Your ankles. Tuck that chin. Swing.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
"Ha!"
Hideki's hands had long stopped being smooth. 9 hours a day of constantly punching a training log did that to a person he supposed. He hid them now. A Shinobi took proper care of his tools and he just didn't have the skills. Or the patience.
They were his proof he liked to think, of his dedication to the ninja way of life. It wasn't like he had other options. As an orphan his options were limited in Konahagakure proper. Finding an apprenticeship in some trade before it could be snatched up by either some clan kid, or a nobles secound or third son, or cousin, or newphew was a very funny joke without connections. He could try his hand at becoming a merchant if he could actually afford to finish 9 years of civilian schooling.
Eventually it all boiled down to time, and opportunity. At 11 years old in the village hidden in the leaves being a ninja was the only path foward. Everyone tried. Not everyone actually succeded, but alot of the nobility wouldn't even deign to speak with someone who couldn't even attempt it. Not here. Not when it was free, and expected. Refusal to apply came with alot of ugly questions from future employers and carried a heavy anti ninja stigma that would be hard to wash off. And dangerous to have.
Then why did his thoughts constantly shift towards leaving. Towards Running. Stepping off the path of glory and heading elsewhere. Somewhere dangerous.
Nuke-nin. Missing ninja.
The only thing in Konoha more damning than trying and failing. Trying, succeding, and then running from it. Oh he was tired. Tired of the double standards. The propaganda. The words and lessons hidden underneath the underneath. How only the clan ninja would be the only ones expected to reach the vaunted rank of Jounin. How the lessons differed for each class. After comparing a sneaked few peaks of class 1's notes and his own they painted a very gruesome picture. A few changed percentages here. A different wording of the job description there.
It was all so subtle. From the way they were taught to hold kunai. First finger through the ring. To the way and amount they threw. Hold it this way. Stab like this. Make sure you have a few left. The little nuances that all added up. Even in spars. It was more brutal than the others, less forgiving. Everything was said with a weight that was just not present in the other groups. As though class 1 would live long enough to know better...and he wouldnt.
You have gained Str+1
00000
Prologue.
Thunk.
His fist impacted wood.
Hideki, meet log. Log, Hideki. I hope you get along well.
Thunk.
Hideki found that it was easier not to think at times like these. Not on his own actions at least. Or he would over analyze his motions. Contemplate whether or not he was wasting his time. On easier ways to accomplish his goals.
The same trap many others had fallen into. They stopped. They thought. They faltered.
Thunk.
He wouldn't. He hadnt.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
Push. Bang! Hideki's fist lashed out. His knuckles smoking from the contact. Too slow. Thunk thunk thunk. A wooden metronome. His personal time keeper. Screw a clock.
They can't fight if they cant breathe. Steal the air from their lungs with shots to the-
Twist your hips. Everything's connected. Turn your wrist. Everything flows. Your ankles. Tuck that chin. Swing.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
"Ha!"
Hideki's hands had long stopped being smooth. 9 hours a day of constantly punching a training log did that to a person he supposed. He hid them now. A Shinobi took proper care of his tools and he just didn't have the skills. Or the patience.
They were his proof he liked to think, of his dedication to the ninja way of life. It wasn't like he had other options. As an orphan his options were limited in Konahagakure proper. Finding an apprenticeship in some trade before it could be snatched up by either some clan kid, or a nobles secound or third son, or cousin, or newphew was a very funny joke without connections. He could try his hand at becoming a merchant if he could actually afford to finish 9 years of civilian schooling.
Eventually it all boiled down to time, and opportunity. At 11 years old in the village hidden in the leaves being a ninja was the only path foward. Everyone tried. Not everyone actually succeded, but alot of the nobility wouldn't even deign to speak with someone who couldn't even attempt it. Not here. Not when it was free, and expected. Refusal to apply came with alot of ugly questions from future employers and carried a heavy anti ninja stigma that would be hard to wash off. And dangerous to have.
Then why did his thoughts constantly shift towards leaving. Towards Running. Stepping off the path of glory and heading elsewhere. Somewhere dangerous.
Nuke-nin. Missing ninja.
The only thing in Konoha more damning than trying and failing. Trying, succeding, and then running from it. Oh he was tired. Tired of the double standards. The propaganda. The words and lessons hidden underneath the underneath. How only the clan ninja would be the only ones expected to reach the vaunted rank of Jounin. How the lessons differed for each class. After comparing a sneaked few peaks of class 1's notes and his own they painted a very gruesome picture. A few changed percentages here. A different wording of the job description there.
It was all so subtle. From the way they were taught to hold kunai. First finger through the ring. To the way and amount they threw. Hold it this way. Stab like this. Make sure you have a few left. The little nuances that all added up. Even in spars. It was more brutal than the others, less forgiving. Everything was said with a weight that was just not present in the other groups. As though class 1 would live long enough to know better...and he wouldnt.
You have gained Str+1