You were not a normal child.

  Ever since you could first talk, you were always sharper than your peers. Quicker to pick things up, the first to notice something, and you always knew just what to do.

  That was exaggerating slightly, you were not a genius by any measure of the word, but you were bright. Or maybe you were just driven, pressed forward by something that was just beyond your peers.

  Whatever it really was, it saw you scouted. Marked as someone potentially special. Your mother was ecstatic when the Ninja first arrived, bringing with them a battery of tests and quizzes. Your father was as stoic as ever, simply giving you one nod, and leaving it for you to decide.

  For the first time in your life, you found yourself challenged by those tests and quizzes, as much physical as they were mental, logic puzzles you knew would leave your once peers migraine-ridden. Acrobatics that you were sure would snap your neck when you attempted them. Weights that caused your arms to shake minutes after you had ceased holding them.

  But despite your issues, the first you had ever faced, the Ninja seemed satisfied. You were told that you had been accepted for Ninja training, and starting that semester it was your patriotic duty to attend.

  Your mother threw an entire party, just your family and the neighbors, complete with cake and a stag that your father hunted that very day. Mother offered to try and invite over your once-peers, but if you were being honest you did not really have anyone you wanted to come.

  You were more driven than your peers, and with that you became different. You were not bullied or anything, you were actually pretty well-liked, but you were apart.

  There was a part of you that wondered if that would be different here. As your eyes took in the massive, sprawling academy before you. Ninja were meant to be the best of the best. Surely you would not be so different here too?

  Your eyes fall to the gate, packed with hundreds of parents escorting their children, and a pang of sadness hits you. Your mother was too busy attending her shop to make the trip here with you, and your father was not the kind of man to find sentimentality in this sort of thing.

  You glance away from the parents, back to the building, and for the first time truly take in the building that would be shaping you, and housing you for years to come.

  A single building built into a mountains peak, mostly smooth, but for the wide fields that jut out of the sides, often supporting itself on another nearby by mountain, sat before you. Kumogakure, a hidden village built so high in the mountains that the clouds themselves hid it.

  Well, at least hid the upper parts of Kumo.

  It was to be your new home. It was here, that you were going to become a Ninja.

  -

  You were not a normal child. But you were also not a special one. It had been six months since you had begun your education, and in those six months, the sheer gulf between someone like you and someone like Torishi Chikako was made pretty clear.

  She was not smarter than you, and there was no way in Samsara that the girl was more driven than you. You refused to believe that. But she was simply just better.

  Knew more. Had longer than you to figure this Ninja thing out.

  Unsurprising, considering she was part of something called a clan. Her parents were Ninja, her brothers were Ninja, her cousins were ninja. While you...

  You loved your mother, you held immense respect for your father, but neither was Ninja and here in Kumo? So high that even the clouds struggled to contain you? Sometimes you wanted that not to be the case.

  But you did not let it get to you, throwing yourself into the training. Next week your class would begin proper fights, not the heavily regimented Taijutsu spars that almost felt choreographed, but actual fights. There would be no deadly force obviously, but when Kusarihai-sensei told the class about it there was an air of detachment you could not help but pick up on.

  This was not a fight to the death, but it was a fight where you could throw anything you wanted at your foe, where you could do anything you wanted to grind them to dust. On top of that, there was a rumour among the students that the winner of each spar would be given a five day weekend, while the losers would be taking remedials. Five days was plenty of time to descend the peaks and make your way to your hometown.

  You knew who you were going to be fighting. Because she told you herself, Torishi smugly confronted you as you stumbled back to the doors after another night of practising long after the academy closed.

  The dog stood there droning on about honour in a duel, and how it was only in the clash of body and mind was both honed. Before she stumbled over meaningless platitudes that the outcome of the fight would change nothing, clearly implying you were going to lose and she would continue to laud her greater experience over you.

  You were not going to let that happen. You were going to humiliate her, break her in this duel and prove that whatever advantage she had you could surpass it.

  You just needed to figure out how you were going to do it in a week when you had been failing to do so for the last six months.

  -

  You had some experience with Kenjutsu. When you first begun learning Shurikenjutsu Kusarihai-sensei had gone on at length about Shurikendo, the way of the Shuriken rather than the technique.

  Part of learning the way of Shuriken, was dipping into learning Kendo, the way of the Sword. The lessons did not last long, just long enough for Torishi to prove her excellence over the class. But they did stick with you, and sometimes late at night instead of your warm down exercises, you would instead shake off the rust of the few forms you knew.

  In the days after you had resolved to drag Torishi into the mud while playing to her absolutely greatest strength, you found yourself grateful for your attention to maintain your skills.

  Kenjutsu was hard, and it required a body tune to it, general conditioning was just not quite enough. But more than that was the sheer breadth of techniques and forms you had to train. You found hundreds of iterations on different forms in the Academies libraries.

  There was no possible way you could ever learn all of them in a week, so your prioritized. Compartmentalized. You had studied Torishi for long enough to know she favored Raido, blazingly fast, precise strikes that completely forwent defensive stances for overwhelming offence.

  Unfortunately for you, of the elemental Kenjutsu styles, it was one without an antithetical counter. But it was one with a weakness, Raido users relied on being the offensive, the moment it petered out, or they were forced on the defensive they would be forced to switch to another style, exhausted and unfamiliar, or simply be cut down.

  Of the styles you had managed to drag up from the libraries, you thought that there was a few, if you leveraged them properly, that could exhaust Torishi. The first was Kazedo, the way of the wind, go with the flow, let her push you around and never give her the solid surface she would need to rip you apart. The other, was Tsuchido, the way of the earth. Become a rock against the storm she wanted to be, let a careful, robust defense carry you through.

  If you were being honest, there was no way you could properly learn either style, each would take months of careful consideration in how you related to the elements. But you could ape them, rip their lessons from them without truly understanding and desperately coat yourself in them.

  Of course, there was another option, you think as your hands drag out a style you had just been considering how to counter.

  Raido. You were studying the blade to bring down a specific enemy, and you knew that enemy relied on this style. Why try for indirect counters? Why try to learn lessons you would not be able to comprehend in time? Your own style, tailored expressly to take advantage of Raido's weaknesses, it did not need to be perfect, or even good. It just needed to be a direct enough counter to break Torishi.

  Your thumb traces along the first form, down the carefully drawn calligraphy, over the drawn man's grip. Or you take this even further, and try to not just beat Torishi with her own greatest skill, but her own style.

  But that was too far, even for the glittering madness that was driving you to crush Torishi. No... you would content yourself with Kazedo, the way of the wind. You would flow around Torishi's blades, and bring her low in a fight of a thousand cuts.

  -

  "Begin!"

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  Suzukuma explodes into motion, crossing the distance between him and Yashisuda in moments, slapping the Kunai Yashisuda had drawn out of his hand, and sending it rolling off to the side of the arena.

  But Yashisuda did not miss a beat, however, and you watch as his other hand lashes out, catching Suzukuma's hand and ripping it towards himself, driving his knee up into the other boy's stomach as he did so.

  But the Suzukuma had already substituted himself away, appearing a few meters away, with his Kunai drawn, feet slamming into the ground. He threw the Kunai in his left hand, and you find your eyes following the knifes path as Yashisuda proved too slow to move out its path, the knife driving deep into his side.

  Or more accurately, through his side, Yashisuda flickered strangely and the knife embedded itself in the arena wall. A clone. A fact as surprising to you, as it was to Suzukuma, it seemed the boy had been intending to create an opening with his Kunai and follow up on it with a lightning-quick strike.

  Your eyes drop to the floor immediately, if you knew Yashisuda, you know knew exactly what he had done. Something that bared out almost instantly, the ground itself crumpling as he threw off his camouflage cloak, and spun a vicious kick at Suzukuma's ankles.

  A crack fills the air, as Suzukuma lets out a muffled scream, cut off when Yashisuda followed up on his brutal joint kick by surging up off the ground and uppercutting the other boy, snapping his head back, and sending a spray of blood into the air.

  "End". Kusarihai-sensei appeared in the middle of the arena, grabbing Yashisuda before the boy could perform his third, and seemingly final blow, considering the steel sharp steel that glinted between his knuckles. Behind the two, Suzukuma smashed into the ground, head bouncing off the floor as he groaned weakly.

  You whistle, you had thought Yashi and Suzukuma were friends. If Yashi was willing to Sebon gut punch the other kid, he must have done something too serious to upset him.

  Or maybe Suzukuma had just stolen his lunch again, Yashi had an incredibly disproportionate reaction when his mother's bento's were touched.

  "Shinrindō Kanaye! Torishi Chikako! You're up!" It seemed while you were wondering what had Yashi so upset, they had already cleared the field. Well, cleared it of the students at least, your eyes catching a glint of metal on the far side of the arena.

  You run a thumb down the sheath of your blade, it was a simple thing, standard issue for the academy, half battered and its balance was just short of terrible. But in the last week, you had grown to rather like your ratty blade.

  It did not take you long to get down to the arena, and soon enough you stood a few paces away from Torishi, the dark-skinned girl smugly smiling at you, as she gave you a condescending nod. You resist the urge to scowl, as you do the polite thing and nod back.

  Then you close your eyes and take a single deep breath.

  You had been preparing for this for a week. You have been carefully considering your plan the entire time, every strike of your blade in the last week had accompanied by your mind considering how you would make that strike in the real life.

  You could stick to Kenjutsu the entire time, not only would that make the entire affair a test of swords as you had challenged yourself, but it was also, to your knowledge, your best recourse against the Raido of Torishi.

  Or you could try probing the edges, test her defences, and reflexes first. Exchange a few rounds of thrown weapons, keep at a distance to see the speed you would need to flow around. It was straying slightly from what you wanted, but it was a minor allowance.

  Or maybe something a bit trickier, you did not have great reserves, but a few illusionary clones here and there was very much within your wheelhouse. Sow some confusion in Torishi, even if it was only momentary.

  "Be-". Time slowed to a crawl, as your thumb slowly traced down the hilt of your blade, and you considered your plans. Well consider your plan. As much as you needed to for such a simple thing. Get in close, and drag her out of the rhythm of her Kenjutsu.

  "-gin" Kusarihai-sensei blurred in the corner of your vision, and you knew from watching the other fights he had returned to lazily lying in the sun.

  Your eyes lock with Torishi, staring into her brilliant green eyes as they scanned your stance. Your thumb ran over the hilt of your ragged sword, as a moment of serene silence falls over the arena.

  Then you popped your blade from its sheath, and her eyes flick between it, and then to yours. They widen in shock and disbelief. Already you could see a flush of pink shame dust her already dusty cheeks. You were already in her head, you thought with a wide grin.

  Then your feet twisted underneath you, and you exploded forward, the sound of your sandals, ones your father fashioned for you before you left, against the arena sprung wood resounding out into the air.

  Raido relied on two core principles, enough speed to make any attempt to resist irrelevant, and enough ferocity to always remain on the offensive. Kazedo on the other hand, relied on reactions and swift movements to disorientate and devitalize their enemy brushing past any blow until the enemy had no blows left to give. Typically it was seen as a passive style, and maybe if you were a true practitioner of the style you would adhere to that idea.

  But you were not a true practitioner of the style, you did not understand the leaf in the wind like so many scrolls extolled the virtue of. So you saw no issue in taking stances and forms that were meant to counterattack, and instead, just use them to attack.

  Torishi seemed almost flummoxed by the approach, a visible flinch of confusion wracking her body every time you would pull off one of the complex twists required of even the most basic Kazedo, simply to find a new angle to attack, rather than to slip around her threadbare assault.

  It was a confusion that did not last long, and slowly Torishi was firming underneath your assault, finding comfort in something she had spent most of her six years of life honing. Soon her strikes lost the general feel of pure Kenjutsu and began slipping into the precision speed of Raido, taking more to dodge harshly away from your strikes than batting them away.

  Soon enough you found yourself the one under assault, plagued on all sides by her incredible speed.

  No. That was not right. Torishi was not faster than you, you think you really tried you could keep up with her peak. It was simply with Raido she was so much more explosive. Every strike started and ended in the same moment.

  But you could keep up, and that was all you needed to do, with Kazedo. You all but danced around Torishi, exchanging where you could light blows, but spending the rest of your time letting her cuts slip by you. Twisting around a thrust here, scraping away an overhead there.

  Even on the defensive, it was you who was setting the pace of the fight, you were the one with all the control, despite your every action being a reaction. It was exactly what you wanted.

  And finally, she started to flag, grow sloppy as her frustration at being unable to find a surface to hit and strike through pulled at her mind.

  It was here, that you scored the first true, telling blow of your bout. She had surged forward, blade held tilted to the side, intending to drag it from your waist to your shoulder. But you knew already that it was coming, could already tell what she was intending from the moment her breathing changed.

  You had seen her do this before, so in the moment that it happened, between the heartbeat it started, and the heartbeat it would have ended, you struck. Your sword snapped up, slamming her sword towards the sky, taking advantage of her preparation for her strike. Then you stepped inside her guard, forcing her backwards less you simply bulldoze her over, leaving her scrambling and off-balance.

  Just the perfect position for your sword to drag itself up from her waist to her shoulder. Well not quite, you had to admit Torishi was good, and the moment she realized what was happening she switched gear, abandoning Raido to more traditionally clash with your blade, barely managing to push your blade far enough that it only cut through her clothes and left a thin mark across her body.

  She twists her body, sending a roundhouse kick at your head, forcing you back. She did not follow, instead of taking the distance she had made and creating more, all but fleeing to the far side of the arena.

  A wide grin crosses your face, as your heart hammers in your ears and adrenalin rushes through your body. The first humbling strike, you thought as you took in Torishi's form. You had split the belt holding her kimono closed, leaving exposed underneath a far more practical set of training gear. She touches a finger to the thin cut you had left in her skin, thin blood oozing out of it and staining her clothes.

  Her green eyes return to yours, respect in them that should have been there from the start. Then she pouts at you and returns to her previous stance.

  It seemed this was not over just yet.

  There's only one way to really describe the next bout.

  Dominance.

  You had proven to Torishi that you could stand toe to toe to her in sword play, and come out ahead.

  Now you were proving to the class that you could stand a step above Torishi in Kenjutsu, and dictate every facet of the fight. Every step she took was made because you allowed her to take that step, every strike she made suffered at the tail end of a chain of allowed actions.

  You kept her penned in, and hopeless.

  Nothing she could do escape the endless cycle once you put her into it. No matter how she lashed out, no matter what fancy foot work she managed, not even when she all but doubled in speed from a surge of chakra could she escape the carefully curated web you had entrapped her in.

  There was a part of you that felt bad, felt like you were almost toying with the other ninja-in-training. But that part was dwarfed by the sheer satisfaction you were getting from absolutely pulling her apart.

  There was also something to be said from the sheer insight you were getting from doing this, with this level of control over the flow of the fight, you could really study how Torishi moved. See how her muscles flexed and twisted underneath her skin, especially now that her kimono had been discarded before she increased her speed.

  You could also study your own reactions, really pick apart how you reacted to certain stimulus and prodding from your foe. It was a fascinating insight in just how you approached fighting, and already you could see yourself picking over how you could improve it.

  Maybe that, more than anything spoke of how one sided the fight had become, even with her boost of speed. You were actively treating the fight as a chance to experiment, rather than treating her as an equal.

  Because at this point, she was not really an equal anymore. She was tired, she was flagging, her temper had snapped, and she was just mindlessly following your lead descending utterly into routine that you had figured out ages ago.

  Then, you simply decided to end it. It had been some time coming, this bout of dominance had lasted far longer than the last, whereas that was over in twenty seconds of furious clashing steel, this was an almost leisurely minute long exchange.

  It was a simple matter after you had decided to end it, you knew exactly what Torishi was doing at every moment of her strikes. It was simply a matter of waiting for a moment you knew was going to come.

  Her blade flashed by you, as you lightly sidestepped it, the steel cutting the air in front of your face. You lashed out with your leg, slamming it into her side, as the flat of your blade smashed into her fingers. With a grunt of pain, her hand slips from the sword, sending it clattering to the ground. Your left hand leaves your hilt, catching Torishi before she collapsed to the ground, and placing your blade underneath her throat.

  "End!"

  For a moment the two of you stay there, Torishi staring up at you with wide green eyes, dark skin slick with sweat and colored even further by a flush of exhaustion, held from the ground by your hand tightly wound in her shirt, prevented from fixing that by your blade at her throat.

  Then a wide, triumphant grin crosses your face, and you let her go, letting her collapse to the ground.

  You turn your attention to the audience, filled with silent appreciation and awe.

  No one had beaten Torishi in Taijutsu, and everyone knew she was far better with the sword, and while you were considered a fair hand at it, to see what you just did to Torishi? It must have blown their sage damned minds.

  Your grin widens.