… His heart was beating with the force of a giraffe’s. Partly because he… had… a girlfriend? Had they spoken about this before? No? Then… huh. But he was holding her hand so firmly, never to let go of her – or at least, he wished so deep inside… but that was the second thing-
He didn’t want a repeat incident to occur, y’know… concerning her Kinjutsu. Therefore, he couldn’t exactly be all relaxed, even when entering his clan’s training grounds and inner gyms. Now, surrounded by his folk, his family… all donning that characteristic nuance; blonde hair, blue eyes, and a million variations of those colors. Despite the label of ‘homogenic’ being placed upon the Okada, it was easier to pick them apart than you thought.
But with Mitsu’s own, blondish hair… she almost blended in with the rest.
"Ay, coh! Fancy gurl ya brought here – havn’t seen ya in forevah, and ya already started bakin’?”
"Heard ya grew outta jobber role, ya trained with Tetsuo, rite? Good for ya, pal!”
"Da hell? And I thought da jobber role was perfect for ‘em… ya made the matches hella entertain-"
And a bunch of small talk buzzed among the fellow Okadas, most being out of warm fun – despite their ignorance towards Sakuraba’s feelings for the entire topic, he let them slide… but some expressed regret that he was walking away from the whole ‘jobber’ role. As if his jobber role was beneficial to the clan… as if it brought in numbers, which brought in cash. Fame. Upheld the reputation of how entertaining their brawling matches were.
As if his suffering was needed to keep the clan running.
"Fuck ‘em,” he whispered to Mitsu, really starting to hate the atmosphere by the way his brows were twitching, "Ain’t got time to entertain dose fools. We got a Jutsu to learn… and I got sum props to help. Trust me, ya gun hate this…” His face was dead serious. Mitsu was more than welcome to train here – it wasn’t even a question to Sakuraba. "When ya with me, is alright… I’ll talk to Taki ‘bout it, she’d be cool with it.”
As much as he liked to talk back, he rarely did so to his clansmen… perhaps out of a sense of duty. Still, he wanted to shove a pole up their butts, but not in the immediate way.
All he wanted was to get stronger – much stronger than any of these asshats – and then, one day, be able to shove it all back into their mouths. Really make fools out of all of them. That was the driving force behind his steel-sharp glance towards the obstacle course that he’d prepared for this very occasion – an obstacle course that was utilized to aid in one’s evasion skills. Reflexes had to be sharpened at all times in order to keep up with shinobi – even the wrestle-happy Okada knew that. And according to the contents of the scroll in his other hand, they could start here.
In front of where Sakuraba had led Mitsu to was a 15-meter radius ring with no fence, no seats and no microphone in the middle. The ring was covered in rectangular flags raised up, all in a stationary position. Sakuraba would unfold the scroll containing information about the Subakage-Style technique that they had planned to practice today – a method to annihilate waste movement in and out of combat, so that you could push yourself much further with every action you’d take without relying on outer sources of buffing energy. Like an energy-opportunistic mode, where energy saved from excess wasted movement could be used to amplify actual, useful movement.
"I got dis tip to use deez flags for help,” he explained while rolling the scroll up and handing it to Mitsu, finally and reluctantly letting go of her hand, "Ya gotta get through da ring to da other side… while they are spinning.” With a pull of a lever nearby, the flags began to spin – and thus, the objective was made clear. In order to move across the ring with these flags threatening to slap the living shit out of them, they’d really have to eliminate all wasted movement. Ergo, they’d be forced to move exactly in the right way, and that mental state would have to become a standard in order to master this technique.
"Dis stepping method gotta be good for dodgin’… but uh, who startin’? Rock-papuh-scissuh?”
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