The skill difference wasn't just large, it wasn't just expansive, it was impossible to truely comprehend. The difference between a student and a jonin, one of the elite. It was the difference between a drop of water and an ocean. When even a genin proved to be an unclimbable wall, it was hard too imagine the power of a jonin. The only glimpse he'd seen was the Mizukage himself, and he hadn't even moved when facing off against the entire class. So watching a jonin dodge a point blank attack like his spit attack, that was new for the red-eyed boy who was very clearly over his head now. And then that head was yanked forcibly to the ground, his body landing over the woman's knee.
The only good thing that could be said about this was that they were alone, no one to witness this shame. This hell. Multiple smacks to his rear, they hurt but not a lot. Not enough for permanent damage, and that only made this more shameful. Should he be yelling, screaming for her to stop? He felt like he should, and yet he couldn't find the words. In fact, even though it was only his bottom being hit it was head that was ringing right now, the only thing able to break it being the woman's yelling. Telling that would almost attract attention, gather a crowd of people. To watch the superior blooded clansman be humbled, be humiliated. He'd be a side-show. And so, she'd get the answer she wanted. Fine! FINE!!
And he'd scramble away if the slapping stopped. Shaking, with tattered breathing. It looked like he'd just suffered the most traumatic experience of his life, which wasn't far from the truth. He'd take being beaten in the stomach over that any day. He wanted to kill her. He wanted to kill anyone who might've glimpse at that, and his head would start swiveling, looking around them. Making sure that there'd hadn't been some secret voyeur, someone whod been passing by and stuck around for the show. He didn't care what he'd said, if there was he'd get that knife somehow and end their lives. No one would ever know of this.
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