Shura Taijutsu

Monday afternoon, in a training ground marked numbed 14, two children barely past their toddler years faced each other with serious expressions on their cute bun-like faces.

But, the moment they started attacking each other, one would find that they were anything but cute, coming at each other with ferocity and lethality disproportionate to their tiny bodies.

"Stop holding back on me!" The dark haired boy sneered, ducking as a kick sailed over his head. The fact that he was even able to dodge it made him feel unpleasant, knowing that his opponent was not giving him his best.

"Huh." The other boy with long silver hair tied in a neat braid, huffed out a breath in reply, not giving any comment as the fight went on with one maintaining a calm expression while the other was getting increasingly frustrated despite them seeming to be on par with each other.

It was quite astounding to see, as the two traded hit per hit, showing no mercy to the other opponent. Though, it was fortunate that academy students of their age weren't allowed to handle their kunai and shurikens as of yet, for who knows what undeveloped children would do when equiped with a weapon too sharp for them to comprehend.

Though, perhaps, even without such weapons, it wouldn't matter to these two children, with them fighting well enough with just taijutsu alone.

But, it seemed, the longer the fight went on, the more frustrated one of them ended up being. And the more frustrated he was, the messier his hits became.

"Tch! Fight me seriously! Why aren't you giving me your best hits?!" Uchiha Utaru shouted, his face contorting into a scowl as he blocked another jab which felt much slower than it should have been from what he'd known of his opponent's normal speed. "Is this a game for you, huh? Am I just that weak to you?!"

Hearing his words, Hitsugi Kurashi frowned. "You asked for training, not a battle. I am giving you training."

As a kick sailed and aimed for his chest, this time Kurashi did not dodge and instead, grabbed the ankle with his right hand and dug two fingers into the exposed weakness behind the other boy's knee, then pulled the ankle up harshly until Utaru fell to the ground, his left leg distablized and slipped under him.

And thus, with a muted thud, the young Uchiha fell to the ground, sweaty and out of breath, right leg tingling and sore, the back of his knee throbbing and aching.

He lost. Again.

This time, his opponent was even holding back, using a taijutsu style that was nothing like he'd ever seen before, hitting all sorts of weak spots in his body that he was not even aware of existed.

The way the Hitsugi moved was quick, lethal, and incredibly beautiful, with as much grace as a red crowned crane in the snow, but with the ferocity of a hunting tiger.

But, he knew, that such taijutsu was meant to take down enemies with a single hit. Letting the fight last this long was Kurashi's mercy towards him.

And that frustrated Utaru to no end. He didn't need mercy.

"Your taijutsu style." The Uchiha asked without even getting up from where he laid, only raising his arm to form the reconciliation seal, breathing heavily and covered in dirt and leaves. "What's it called?"

"There is no name." Kurashi answered straightforwardly, fingers in a reconciliation seal and curled around his training partner's. But, just as he was about to uncurl his fingers, Utaru's suddenly tightened around them as the boy suddenly sat up, making them face each other.

"Impossible! All forms of taijutsu need to have a name! Like my clan's Uchiha Interceptor, and the Hyuuga's Gentle Fist." Somehow, the boy seemed quite passionate about this. Did he favor taijutsu, by any chance? "They all have something they're called."

Whether the taijutsu form he was using had a name or not, Kurashi really did not know. In the first place, he never even learned how to fight properly. All he was doing right now was copying the movements of the Taoists who killed him before.

By constantly practicing what he remembered of that battle, he managed to create a unique style that was a mixture of several fighting styles which he now used during their spars in the academy.

It was quite a long battle that went on and off which lasted for about a week and a half before he was finally killed through the combined efforts of the seven main Sects of Taoism and that one Buddhist Monastery.

Though, the one who landed the final hit actually wasn't from any of the sects, nor the monastery. He was just a lone kid who joined in on the fun with his friends.

But, now that he thought of it, it seemed that he didn't actually know the name of that rogue boy. He was sure he heard the boy's companions yelling it a few times during the battle though... What was it again?

"Xiu Lao? Xue Le?" Kurashi muttered to himself, unsure. "Or was it Shu Lan?"

"What? Shura?" Utaru tilted his head, coming closer so he could hear clearer. "Shura Taijutsu? Is that it?"

Kurashi blinked. He wasn't sure but that sounded close enough.

"Mn..." The young clan head nodded. Actually, what were they talking about again? Kurashi kind of got lost in thought back there. Probably something about his taijutsu needing a name?

"Anyways, let's meet again tomorrow." Unaware of the Hitsugi's confusion, Utaru stood up and headed out of the training grounds. "For training."

Shura Taijutsu... He supposed it wasn't a bad name for his fighting style.

...

"Oh-"

It was on one slightly misty Thursday morning, right when Kurashi had just finished his daily meditation and was starting to get ready for school, that he suddenly heard a knock on his front door, which greatly confused the silver haired boy.

Why? Because, he had never gotten visitors before.

And, after opening his door with feelings of apprehension, he came to find something even more confusing.

A Kappa and a Tanuki stood before his doorway, carrying a fairly large gift basket filled to the brim with mushrooms, nuts, and fruits.

"A pleasant morning to you, distinguished sir!" The tanuki, standing three feet and a half taller than Kurashi's height of 3.4 ft, smiled amicably as the kappa beside it fidgeted shyly, carrying the gift basket.

"Ah- A pleasant morning to you as well." Kurashi greeted, eyes looking back and forth between the two Yokais and their gift basket, wondering why exactly they were here in front of his house.

And, perhaps getting a whiff of the boy's confusion, the tanuki, gently patted the kappa's shoulder. "Now, now, Purin-kun. Remember what we came here for."

"O-oh..!" The kappa furrowed it's brows for a moment, seemingly trying to recall something before it's eyes ended up on the gift basket it was carrying and then it remembered.

"G-gift, gift! Please... Thank... y-you.!" The kappa stuttered, head lowered and arms outstretched to give Kurashi the gift basket, much to his confusion. "W-water... Thank - you..."

Water? Thank you?

"May we be honored to learn of your esteemed name, dear sir of the mortal world?" The monocled tanuki smiled as Kurashi accepted the gift basket hesitantly.

This day is really starting out strangely. He'd interacted with Yokai before, but those instances were initiated by him first, most of the time. Most Yokais tended to stay far away from people and generally kept to themselves.

This was the first time that Yokais have visited him on their own.

Truly strange.

"Ah, forgive me. My name is Hitsugi Kurashi." The young clan head bowed politely. "What may I call you, guests?"

Knowing that a Yokai's name holds their power, Kurashi didn't directly ask for their true names, and only asked for what they wished to be called by.

"This child is called Purin, and you may refer to me as Tattei." The tanuki spoke gently and bowed after introducing the Kappa and himself. "This time, we came to express our heartfelt gratitude to the distinguished sir for your help towards Purin-kun when he was on his Summer migration."

Kurashi turned to the Kappa and realized that it really was the same one he helped from the previous week.

"Truly, if it wasn't for your timely help, he would have dried up on that road once again!" The tanuki continued, patting the kappa's head as though it were a child.

Again? Was this a yearly occurrence for them?

"No, there is no need for thanks." Kurashi shook his head, tone more even now that he understood what was happening. "As both Shinobi and a noble, it is my duty to protect those living in the land which I serve, be they spirit or human."

"Aha, I see." The tanuki chuckled, adjusting it's monocle.

Truly, what a strange morning.

...

Uchiha Utaru didn't believe in fate, destiny, or the things he is unable to see and touch. But, recently, he's been starting to feel like something unseen had been leading him by the nose to discover things that he normally wouldn't care about.

Like on this day for example.

He was just visiting the graveyard to give his deceased uncle some lilies as he would normally do once a month, when he caught sight of a familiar silhouette cleaning the old headstones off in the distance.

Why those headstones in particular? They've been there for so long that no one even remembers who they belonged to, with the names carved on them so weathered down that it was no longer readable. It's not like anyone would be visiting them anyways.

Or... was he cleaning them because there was no one else who'd do it for them?

That guy... He really does respect the dead a lot.

Utaru sighed as he quietly watched his seatmate burn burial money in front of a broken headstone with a solemn expression.

But, from Kurashi's eyes, it was a completely different scene.

"I really owe you one, boy-ya~" A female ghost giggled, hiding the burial money that appeared in her hands into her bra. "Just one game of mahjong with old lady Meng Po and suddenly, I find myself knee deep in debt!"

The Hitsugi clan head sighed. Even in death, one still can't get rid of mortal sins.

"I'll never gamble again!"

...

As Saturday arrived with much apprehension from our resident child clan head, Hitsugi Kurashi, despite his complex feelings towards the elderly lady who had a status similar to that of the Empress Dowager of Konoha, decided that he might as well get it over with sooner rather than later.

And thus, he now stood in front of the esteemed Uzumaki, several minutes before the agreed upon time, sighing as the morning sunlight, filtered through the canopies of trees, warmed his cold body.

"So, how about it? Why don't you be my apprentice?" Uzumaki Mito spoke gently, her eyes glimmering in interest. "You have the potential to be a good fuuinjutsu master. The only thing you're lacking is a qualified teacher to guide you, which I am full capable of providing."

Kurashi frowned, fiddling with the new seal on his forehead. "Forgive me, but I must decline your good intentions for now as I have yet to complete my training with my clan's arts."

He really had his hands full trying to learn more of the Hitsugi clan's Reiton jutsus currently as well as training with Sensōbokken as much as possible recently. Even if learning the art of fuuinjutsu from an expert was tempting, he simply had no time to spare.

"Haa... People rarely visit me anymore." The elder Uzumaki sighed, eyes dulling in resignation as her brush paused over the paper. "Just a lonely old woman living alone in a big house."

And truthfully, Kurashi could somewhat understand her loneliness, living alone in a large clan compound that was supposed to house the entire Hitsugi clan, but was left with him alone.

Before the destruction of his clan, they were already planning on moving to Konoha after the news of the Priestess's sudden decision to eradicate all people with connection to spirit arts.

They already planned it out for a year, having come to an agreement with the Nidaime Hokage, who had a clan compound built to house them in Konoha.

In the end, they never did last long enough to live there, leaving all the hopes of their clan to a single child before facing the final battle which ultimately ended with their deaths.

And, just recently, he came to find out that the Nidaime Hokage who he had yet to meet and thank, actually died the same year his clan did.

Ah, such is fate.

So, really, Kurashi understands this strange old woman's feelings. Though that didn't mean he was going to agree.

He just emphathizes.

"Even my grandchildren don't visit me as much, being so busy with their Shinobi training." Mito-sensei placed down her brush. "I even started teaching in the academy in hopes that I'd be able to find a student to pass all of my knowledge to."

Alright, now it was just overdoing it. The guilt tripping scheme was getting a bit too obvious now.

"How unfortunate..." The lady pursed her lips, caressing her worn ink-stained brush as though reminiscing about a time long passed.

That was when Kurashi noticed the wrinkles on her fingers and realized. This lady was old. Not nearly as old as he really was, but old enough that the world would start forgetting her as much as she'd start forgetting the world.

Perhaps, what she said wasn't a hundred percent just to guilt trip him into agreeing. She might really just want to pass down her knowledge to someone else so atleast a piece of her would remain in existence even long after the earth reclaims her in its embrace.

Atleast, that was what Kurashi would have wanted if he were in her place. That was the exact reason why he didn't destroy his tomb when he perished. Because, that place held records of his existence, his glory.

"Fine." Kurashi sighed in resignation. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to learn something useful during my Saturdays."

Despite all of that talk about refusing, in the end, he did agree.

Something told him the Uzumaki would continue pestering him otherwise.