[Ishikawa Ren]

     With his fingers lifted to the sky and his head craned upward, it seemed like he could almost touch the clouds. Ren slowly pushed his fingertips together, sequentially popping every knuckle one-by-one. It was a mindless 'hobby' he'd picked up after years of passing through different fidgets. He'd only managed to stop biting his nails a month ago and the whites were finally growing out.

     They matched the color of the clouds which slowly floated by past them, hemmed in like a painting by the buildings. It was an uncharacteristically clear day for Amegakure, but it did happen from time to time. The darkness on the horizon said it wouldn't last till night though. Looked to be a flurry on the way.

     He stood in front of the entrance to the Takeda clan's complex, stretching in anticipation of a training session he'd planned with Takeda Sadako. As usual, it wasn't his first of the day and he was glad he didn't tire easy. A lifetime of working the fields made it so his usual schedule was work, work, work, and then fun disguised as work - or work disguised as fun, he wasn't sure; do what you love and all that - and that was just the way he liked it. No wasted time or effort.

     Ren rapped his fingers on the doors and patiently waited. He was eager and ready for a long day of hard exertion, of pushing himself to his limit and then a little beyond. There really wasn't any substitute for it when trying to grow.

takeda sadako | 258 words

[takeda sadako]

KILLING YOUR IDOLS IS A CHORE

Typically Sadako went days or more without reapplying the thick, dark ring of kohl around her eyes: if it was still largely intact, then she wiped off whatever had smeared onto her cheekbones in her sleep and called it good, which often made her look varying degrees of raccoonlike and hungover. She was utilitarian in her ablutions, scrubbing herself down with bar soap morning and night, and didn’t think much about her face other than to splash it with water and to try to look as intimidating as possible. Sensei had set her up to train with another genin in the afternoon—one of the team one guys, Ishikawa Ren. Something something he’ll be a good influence, you could learn a thing or two from that boy’s attitude. Sadako had rolled her eyes and acquiesced. And when the afternoon came, surprisingly free of rain, Sadako took the time to wash her face with a fragrant soap Junichi had given her, and she carefully re-applied her kohl in a thin, delicate line winging up from the corner of her eyelids, and she slapped her cheeks to bring a flush of color to her pale skin, and she adamantly refused to think about why she was doing any of this. She was ready the instant the knock came, the entrance swinging open with far greater speed than seemed strictly necessary for the occasion. "‘Sup,” Sadako said, carefully disaffected, and jerked her head to indicate the open space behind her. "Dojo’s this way.” She was barefoot, wrists and ankles already taped up from her morning training session, everpresent training weights securely worn on her torso, forearms, and shins. Her headband kept her close-cropped hair out of her face, with the length of it tied back in a tiny ponytail at the base of her neck, the evidence of a few months’ overdue haircut. The dojo, thankfully, was empty. Sadako bowed at the entrance, then stepped onto the mats, rolling her shoulders in a gesture towards a warmup stretch. "Sensei didn’t say what you were working on,” she said. She had to angle her head just slightly back to make eye contact with Ren—something she wasn’t quite used to, since she towered over most of the other genin. "You just trying to get some sparring in or what?”

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[Ishikawa Ren]

     "Yeah, a spar." he said. "I'd heard about this technique from one of the Jounin..." Ren looked up slightly and rubbed his jaw. "Tree Leaf Gale?" He looked back down at her, making eye contact with a confident smile. "Heard a' that one?" in his country accent.

     He took a moment to remove his shoes and set them to the side, by the entrance to the dojo. Ren performed a curt bow and then took a few steps, pacing around, feeling the texture of the mats with his feet. Still felt a little luxurious to him: he was more used to wrestling around in the dirt with the other village boys.

     Good thing that teacher recommended me, he thought cheerfully as he looked around. It was certainly a nice place. Well used though, not that that were a bad thing. His dark eyes settled on Sadako. It'll be a good scrap. She was well-built, certainly more muscular than him: but he hoped he could put up a decent showing. It'd been too long since he'd had a really fulfilling taijutsu spar, and it looked like Sadako would be a formidable partner.

     "They showed me how to do it, I just haven't had time to put it into practice." he tapped his head, absentmindedly twirling some of his shaggy black hair. "All locked up in here, but I can show you." Ren said with a carefree grin.

takeda sadako | 236 words

[takeda sadako]

KILLING YOUR IDOLS IS A CHORE

Ren had a lilt to his tone, a bit of an accent that Sadako hadn’t heard much before; Taro spoke in a similar way, now that she thought about it, but it sounded much nicer coming from Ren’s mouth. She watched him pace around the dojo, testing the feeling of the mats, and she thought about Taro’s comment on the price of her hung gar rings. Was her family rich? She wasn’t sure what to make of that thought. All the amenities the Takeda clan had to offer were things she’d grown up with her whole life. She’d never wanted for anything, even after— If she needed something, her aunt got it for her, or she just got it herself. Never anything extravagantly expensive, she wasn’t spoiled, but… Ren grinned at her. Her thoughts evaporated. She shook her head, her mouth pressed into a flat, thin line. "I don’t know it,” she said, gritted in the way of someone who despised ever admitting that they didn’t know something. She bounced on the balls of her feet, shaking her limbs out, and then took up a defensive stance: hands up in front of her face, front foot light, weight on the back foot. "Show me.”

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[Ishikawa Ren]

     "Alright!" he responded, looking down and cementing his stance. Ren did a short breathing routine to get himself ready, then carefully practiced the initial portion of the technique. Down, rotate, up. He muttered inaudibly to himself, reciting the instructions as he swapped between a standing position and one low to the ground. Down, rotate, up.

     Ren observed Sadako's stance each time he came back up to face her. Grounded, like a stone wall - but I bet she could dodge anything I threw her way. She looked agile, light on her feet.

     Ren's meager few years of concerted effort at becoming a shinobi - less still spent as intensely on Taijutsu as she had no doubt spent, just wasn't a match. He had a strong frame, built well like brick rampart packed tight from a lifetime of proper eating and working, but he got the feeling he'd crumble first. Ren gave her a smile before he put the practice to the test. Exciting.

     "Up high." he said, despite crouching and - by twisting - turning his back to her. In an amateurishly segmented and easily telegraphable movement, he spun and launched himself into the air. Ren's leg came round in a mid-air whip aimed at Sadako's guard.

     The form was not great, certainly not carrying nearly as much power behind it as it ought to, but not horrible for a Taijutsu beginner and someone working off memory of what they'd been told.

takeda sadako | 238 words

[takeda sadako]

KILLING YOUR IDOLS IS A CHORE

Sadako watched him carefully as he prepared himself for—whatever it was he was about to do. His movements, yes, the way he crouched and stood in repetition, as if he were getting ready to fling himself airborne; but also his build, his physique. Her gaze was clinical, the look of someone evaluating their competition. He looked muscular, but where Sadako had the trim, carved physique of someone who was four months into a cut, Ren looked… healthy. Strong. Like he’d worked for it, but had never overthought it. She ignored the twisting of her stomach. Up high, Ren said. Instinct bade her to bounce out of the way, shifting on her back foot to dodge the twisting kick, but that would defeat the purpose of the exercise; instead she planted, locking down her guard, taking the kick to the meat of her forearms with a stifled grunt. Her stance shifted, trying to keep her footing. The strike didn’t have as much power as it would have when executed cleanly, maybe, but it was clear that Ren was no weakling. "Okay,” she said, shaking her arms out. "Jump reverse kick, that’s doable. Is it meant to be a hook kick or just a back kick? Low, high? Is the goal pure damage or is it a sweep?” She was still coarse, but the purposeful sourness faded in favor of genuine interest—this was the thing she cared about more than anything else, and her investment in the topic at hand was clear.

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[Ishikawa Ren]

     Ren had landed on the mat as lightly as he could, but had had to catch himself a bit - the imperfect form of the move had meant his center of balance was thrown off. He centered himself again.

     Sadako's questions led him to realize that he'd performed it wrong. Ren furrowed his brow a bit, touching his lower lip with a fingernail, fidgeting. His sleeve fell down and revealed his forearm, muscles taut. "I'm sorry - it's supposed to be a low kick, not high."

     "Hook kick, aiming to sweep the legs -" he said, retracting his finger and performing a sweeping gesture with it aimed down at her legs. "No need to jump, just to spin." He laughed a bit, embarrassed he'd misremembered.

     Even if he prided himself on learning, everyone made mistakes. Ren didn't consider himself a prodigy, or anything close to it - despite what certain others might think about him. When they said that, it made him think of his mother doting on him.

     He explained a bit more to her, clarifying exactly what his teacher had told him. Rear spinning low kick to throw the enemy off balance, he recalled and told her as much.

"Probably not a lot to go off of," he said. "But could you give it a try? I've got a mental picture of it in my mind, I'll tell you if it's close." Ren assumed as much of a defensive stance as he could, waiting for her to try and sweep him off his legs.

takeda sadako | 252 words

[takeda sadako]

KILLING YOUR IDOLS IS A CHORE

"Low reverse spinning hook,” Sadako echoed, her brow furrowing. "You—” Something mean and spiteful rose to her lips. Stupid, why can’t you tell the difference?, and she hurried to swallow it back, shaking her head and muttering instead, "It’s fine, I’ll try it.” If you don’t have anything nice to say… Sensei’s mantra echoed ad nauseum in the back of her mind, and for what was perhaps the first time since they had drilled it into her head, she was minutely grateful for it. Ren was being… nice. Helpful. She didn’t want to ruin it like she seemed to ruin so many things, by running her mouth. Ren locked into place and Sadako took up her lighter footstance again, shifting her weight between her feet as she tried to picture what she thought the technique was supposed to look like in her mind’s eye. She pivoted on her front foot, dragging her back foot lightly across the ground, practicing the motion slowly and carefully—the back of her heel just gently tapping the side of Ren’s knee. "Is it—” she paused, chewing her lip. Was she meant to crouch low and then spin, or was it just a kick aimed at a low angle? "No, nevermind.” Probably the latter, right? She’d go with that. She took a breath, then whipped into motion, the movement she’d just done in slow-mo dialed up to triple-speed. It still wasn’t correct, though she wouldn’t know the difference; as a kick it was executed perfectly competently, but the sweep just wasn’t there, and it wouldn’t be enough force or placed well enough for her to knock Ren off his feet.

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[Ishikawa Ren]

     The kick caused Ren to stagger, though he didn't fall. He thought he'd gotten pretty good at remaining on his feet no matter what, what with so many years spent with the other boys trying to wrestle each other to the ground.

     Yet he could tell that if Sadako had done the kick perfectly correctly and with her full force, he'd have been knocked on his ass. Ren didn't want to tell someone more experienced than himself how to do something, but he also wanted her to reach her full potential too.

     "That was a good kick, but I think the way they'd done it was with a crouch. Sorry if I wasn't clear enough," he said while rubbing his neck and stretching his leg. Even if it hadn't toppled him, the kick still reinforced how strong she was. "Teaching isn't really my strong suit." he laughed.

     "Here, lemme try again." Ren crouched down, turned. When Sadako was ready, he did a few practice swings - heel to heel, similar to how she had, only from a lower position. In a more fluid movement than before, he spun and - using his hand as a support - converted the centrifugal force into a wide kick aimed to knock her over. It was too slow though, he hadn't spun tightly enough to generate the proper force.

takeda sadako | 222 words

[takeda sadako]

KILLING YOUR IDOLS IS A CHORE

Fuck, she’d made the wrong call. Her teeth gritted against the urge to say something heinous, though she was more upset with herself than with Ren—she should’ve known better. This seemed like a pretty simple technique, why didn’t she know it already? She struggled to keep her expression neutral and ultimately failed. Her scowl deepened, her shoulders growing taut and tense as her mood visibly darkened. He laughed, and she tried to force a smile to acknowledge his effort to keep the mood light, but it came out looking more like a pained grimace. Ren made his own attempt again, which, when she saw his movement in slow motion, she could understand the scope of the intent of the technique. Once he geared up to move more quickly, Sadako once again had to fight back the urge to react. She locked in place, taking the kick to her leg with a grunt, her knee buckling. "Do it faster,” Sadako said brusquely, then mimicked his same movement: crouching down low and whipping into motion, slinging her leg around in a kick delivered with far too much force for a friendly training session. For once, it wasn’t even her intent to be mean; she was just trying so hard to keep her frustration in check that it leaked into the technique against her will, and it was far too late for her to pull back when she realized what she was doing.

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[Ishikawa Ren]

     Sadako's grimace and general pained expressions didn't seem to bother Ren or dull his mood, whether because he had mistaken them for concentration or because he simply didn't let anything bother him all that much in the first place. He continued to smile at her.

     "Faster?" he asked, about to say: Of course, we're just getting started! when Sadako's sweep came around to his leg before he was fully prepared. The hook fully swept him off his feet and caused him to quickly and disorientedly fall on his back with a loud thud that shook the whole room like a hefty sack of rice thrown to the ground.

     Ren laid on his back for a second, rolling about as he caught his breath, then lifted himself up with his elbows. "Oh shit," he said while laughing heartedly, looking around to make sure no one had seen or heard. He looked up at Sadako with a dumb grin.

     Ren picked himself up, shaking with laughter despite her earlier scowl and having been laid out in such a non-shinobi like fashion. Standing on his feet again, he stretched out with a slight blush and much continued chortling. "Yeah," he managed to get out. "much better!" Gimme a sec, his posture said as he calmed down from the apparent hilarity.

takeda sadako | 217 words

[takeda sadako]

KILLING YOUR IDOLS IS A CHORE

Ren hit the ground hard, knocking the breath clean from his chest and leaving him shaking. Sadako froze in place like a raccoon in floodlights: her heart stopped for a moment as she waited for the inevitable backlash, the anger, the why did you do that, the what is your damage, the what the fuck is wrong with you, bitch? Her hackles raised, teeth caging a furious, defensive retort for whatever self-righteous ire was about to be thrown her way. It didn’t matter that she deserved it; she wasn’t going to lay down without a fight. But no anger came. Ren was shaking with laughter, and he smiled at her as he got to his feet and stretched out his limbs. Distantly, Sadako heard herself say, "sorry,” a word that rarely escaped her lips, in a tone far more chagrined than most had ever heard from her. She grinned—tiny, crooked, foreign on her harsh features—but sincere. Vulnerable. She waited as Ren gathered himself, her posture relaxing from battle-ready to comfortable sparring. "Should work on your reflexes,” she said. "Dodge it next time. I’ll show you how.” Unerring confidence that she would be able to—she had never lacked for ego, at least, though the key difference now lay in that Ren had transformed in her mind from someone to beat to someone to help.

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[Ishikawa Ren]

     Ren smiled and nodded. Honing his reflexes was perfect: he'd been doing the same on his own missions, when he could, and with his teammate Akirei. Ren'd always been one of the faster kids back home, one of the strongest, one of the biggest. But never quite the best at any one thing. Maybe being a shinobi could be his one thing.

     "Let's see it then, Sadako-chan!" he called out playfully while taking a taijutsu stance and trying to stay light on his feet. He'd decided to swap to a more generalized spar, with less focus on the specific technique they'd chosen. They could throw it in as they went now that they were a little more familiar with it.

     When Sadako was ready, Ren approached with a quick step and let out a couple of light punches. He fully expected her to be able to evade them easily, so didn't put much force behind them. Eyes peeled, he focused on anticipating her own attacks while attempting to force her backwards. If any came, he'd try his best to sidestep, or duck, or jump - whatever he had to do to dodge.

     At the end of his approach, he performed the technique they'd practiced - as quick as he could and light, more to see if he could actually hit her with it than to do damage. Regardless of her response - unless he'd already ended up on the floor - he assumed his stance and began to make a concerted effort to swap to the defensive and evade her attacks while honing his reflexes.

takeda sadako | 261 words

[takeda sadako]

KILLING YOUR IDOLS IS A CHORE

Sadako-chan. Her face flushed with heat, though she dismissed it out of hand as exertion, and did not think about how long it had been since anyone other than her aunt or the twins had called her -chan. She just nodded, and she focused. Close-quarters combat had always been her strong suit, and while she didn’t lack for muscle, her talent had always lied not in action but in reaction. As aggressive and headstrong as she was, she favored a style that preyed on her opponent’s weaknesses, and maneuvering around an attack gave her the time and perspective she needed to evaluate what that weakness was. In theory, anyway. Half the time she ended up losing her temper before she could see any real strategy through. Regardless, if there was any one thing that she was qualified to demonstrate, it was the art of dodging. Her movements were bare, minimalistic; she slipped to avoid Ren’s first couple of punches, countering with her own light offensive, keeping an even pace of give-and-take. "It’s about—” slip, "—prediction as much as it is reaction—” slip, "—moving with your enemy instead of against them—” roll, "—kinda like dancing, feel?” Ren performed the Tree Leaf Gale; when he dropped low to the ground, Sadako jumped high, lifting her knees up close to her chest to avoid the sweep. As she landed, light and bouncy on the balls of her feet, she felt the ghost of a missed opportunity; were she faster, she might have benefitted from unleashing a kick while she was still airborne, or executing some other maneuver. A thought she filed away for later. The tide shifted, and Sadako went on the offensive. She was quick, but holding back the full force of her strikes—purposefully repeating one-two-three combinations in sequence, at increasing speeds each time, getting Ren into the rhythm of the movements required to evade her strikes. Then, abruptly: a one-two and she dropped, her cross going wild as she used the momentum of it to wind up into a spin, executing the Tree Leaf Gale at Ren’s feet.

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[Ishikawa Ren]

     1-2-3. 1-2-3. Sadako was right - it was like dancing. That was something Ren'd been good at even before he was a shinobi - rhythm. He dodged each attack, each faster than the last - the amount of clearance on each smaller and smaller as well, but still a dodge, even if her blows touched his shirt.

     Yet he'd gotten too mesmerized in the rhythm - when the critical moment came, he'd lulled his senses into false security. Ren flinched, attempting to bend his knees and jump over her attack, but only aiding her in knocking himself over. But he was in the right mindset now, and he caught himself, twisting on his palms and using the momentum to dodge off to the side in case she threw more attacks down on where he might've laid.

     The blow had shot pain up his leg, but he did his best to ignore it for now as he approached her again, attempting to mimic the lightness that she had in her movements. "Lemme play you a song, then!" he playfully called out with a grin.

     Ren let out a melody of attacks like musical notes. A kick here, a hook, a jab. He attempted to time in a similar way that she had, though differing. 1-2-3-4. 1-2. 1-2-3. 1-2. He knew she'd be expecting him to return the move they'd learned.

     Breaking the rhythm, he jumped high as though he were going to perform a different move, then came back down, low, and spun the kick at her leg - hard.

takeda sadako | 254 words