[masshiro]

    He was none-the-wiser to the intrusion taking place, in part because it was likely more subtle than he realized, not something he was thinking to keep track of, and even if he was it wasn't clear he could do much about it or even pick up on it purposefully. It likely wouldn't have changed much aside from the fact it was something else to take note of and yet another gift to covet for the sake of knowledge or for personal use. Given the circumstances it was likely best he didn't know of it either way, for the moment.

    There was a subtle laugh as he nodded, because he knew full well that wasn't far enough to muffle a scream if it came to that. Perhaps he was underestimating Daichi, but he knew men far stronger than himself, higher tolerances for pain, and none of them tended to react well when they thought their eyeballs were burning out of their sockets in the midst of a fight. It simply wasn't something you could easily prepare for without the experience, and Daichi was certainly about to get at least a few of them.

"I need you to find a thought in your mind, be it an image, a feeling, a mantra, whatever it is, and you take it and you hold onto it."

    All this time he was still twirling that kunai, the other hand reaching out and grabbing Daichi's wrist and gripped onto it tight enough so he wouldn't simply pull it back. Taking a deep breath he held it, staring into Daichi's eyes before exhaling into a sigh.

"I'm going to cut your arm. It is going to be a slight cut that will draw blood, but nothing more. I need you to remember that. Now, look at me, do not look at your arm until I've stepped back. This will be...unpleasant."

    Without breaking eye contact he sighed a second time as the blade stopped spinning, cutting across Daichi's arm with a swift movement, fast enough he'd barely feel the cut initially as it was barely above superficial, and as he withdrew the blade he took a long step back. Whatever Daichi was likely expecting wouldn't prepare him for what was to come, as he was now fully under the effects of the Yamaguchi's Sudden Death technique.

"Breathe."

SPOILER: Click to show

NAME: Yamaguchi Sakushijutsu: Totsuzenshi [Yamaguchi Illusion Technique: Sudden Death]
RANK: C
CHAKRA USAGE: Low
CLASSIFICATION: Genjutsu
TRIGGER: Eye contact
ELEMENT: -
HANDSEALS: 0
REQUIREMENTS:
DESCRIPTION:
This jutsu lies dormant in the victim until such a time as they are struck by an attack, which is then perceived as being far worse than it actually is. This genjutsu only causes the opponent to believe the wound is severe, but does not create new wounds. A small cut would appear, to the victim, to be a gaping wound. A palm strike to their chest might make the victim believe they are experiencing heart failure. A punch to the face might be perceived as them choking on their own blood and teeth. The only consistency is that this genjutsu causes the target to wholeheartedly believe they are dying. This lasts for the victim’s next five posts before returning their perceptions to normal.

    

[yamaguchi daichi]

I COULD EAT THE WORLD RAW

Masshiro’s instruction to find a thought and hold onto it, surprisingly, was what ended up giving Daichi pause. Not out of fear that he wouldn’t be able to handle it, as confident as he was that he could muscle through just about anything thrown at him, but rather that he wouldn’t be able to avoid making a scene no matter how disciplined he considered himself to be. He took one of his own kunai and bit down on the leather-wrapped grip, so that any involuntary noises would be muffled, and he nodded, and he did as he was told, holding Masshiro’s gaze. Daichi felt the genjutsu take hold even before the blade sliced against his skin: again, that stick in the water, the bump in the road that diverted his chakra flow and sent something running askew. Then the kunai sliced into his skin, and abruptly he felt as though his world was ending. Breathe, Masshiro said, and Daichi did, inhaling rapidly, his nostrils flaring as he bit down hard against the grip of the kunai in his mouth. If he’d had the wherewithal he’d be grateful for how it was muffling the groan of pain and fear he couldn’t quite choke back, but as things were he could barely keep himself standing, staring wide-eyed at the mangled mess of his arm. Masshiro had cut clean through to the bone, severing several arteries along the way, it seemed, with the way that blood was gushing out of a gaping wound like a waterfall tumbling over the side of a cliff. He felt woozy, faint, his fingers and toes going cold at the tips as his lifeblood drained from his arm. Daichi crumpled to his knees, cradling his arm close to his chest, his movements too slow and too clumsy to make any real progress towards staunching the bleeding. Even when he closed his eyes and felt the skin of his arm, touched the tiny nick with the pads of his fingers, he could not shake the feeling that what he touched was an illusion, that he would open his eyes and see the spilling blood and exposed bone, that if he stayed here for only a few minutes longer that he would bleed to death and die. His breath was coming short and staccato around the hilt of the kunai. He was having a panic attack. You take it and you hold onto it. Daichi breathed in, breathed out, trying to calm his racing heart. At lightning speed his mind flipped through faces and names: the dogs, his sister, his mother, his father. Toru. Stern face, white hair, the scent of green tea and clean linens—he latched onto this, trying to center himself, working overtime to try to rationalize the sight that was in front of him. Trembling, he tried to form a single handseal, flooding his system with chakra in an effort to smooth out that bump in the pathways of his mind, but it was in vain: his skill with genjutsu kai wasn’t potent enough, and all he did was waste his chakra. He curled into himself, hyperventilating, tears streaming down his cheeks, and he tried to breathe through it. Breathe through it. Breathe through it.

masshiro -- 538

LAIKA OF THQ

[masshiro]

    There was absolutely no sympathy or empathy to be had as far as his facial expressions, simply a stare that kept focus on the person in front of him. It didn't mean however that he had none of either, but he couldn't allow himself to show it. The last thing he wanted was to make the situation worse, as he knew the instant that Genjutsu took hold and he make that cut, things were going to spiral. When he first had the same Genjutsu cast upon him he didn't have the privilege of knowing what was coming, and he nearly had to be retrained, even throwing a punch or two in the process before it was cancelled. 

    From his vantage point he could see there wasn't enough of a cut to leave a mark in the worst case scenario, but what Daichi was seeing had to be hard to grasp. Even as he fell to his knees, Masshiro stood over him, letting the sensation fully sink in. He had to understand what was going to happen, what this would do to someone else, internalize it. It was getting to much even for him to watch however, and despite it being no more than passing seconds he ended the illusion as he reached out and gripped onto Daichi's arm, then gave him a swift, but not overly strong smack right to the face to jolt him back to reality. 

"Daichi you need to calm down and breathe. It's over."

    Bent down to eye level he grabbed onto his face forcing him to look him in the eye, finally letting him go completely and standing back up.

"You're okay."

    Despite his facial expression, his voice at least sounded somewhat caring, as least more so than he had thus far.

    

[yamaguchi daichi]

I COULD EAT THE WORLD RAW

Daichi felt the intrusion to his chakra pathways leave, and knew that objectively the illusion had relinquished its hold on him, but he had worked himself up into such a state that his nervous system was struggling to reach homeostasis: even though he could see it was only a small nick, knew the truth that he was not in any danger, panic still clawed down its throat and made its home in his chest. Masshiro’s slap was sharp but not painful, enough to shock him out of the mental loop he’d locked himself into and give him the opportunity to ground himself. He gripped Daichi’s face, looking him squarely in the eye, and Daichi did as he was told and breathed, slow and careful and trembling. "I’m okay,” he echoed. If Masshiro was saying it, then it must have been true. "I’m okay.” He shook his head, slapped his own cheeks with shaking fingers, and got to his feet. Picked up the fabric of his tunic from his shoulder to quickly scrub at his face, removing the damp evidence of his tears. "That was terrible,” Daichi said, laughing weakly. "If I never have to deal with that again it’ll be a good life. Gods.” Slap, slap. He bounced on the balls of his feet, trying to shake out some of the excess energy, the rampaging adrenaline. He closed his Eye, deactivated his Jaakugan, put all of his mental effort quietly to bed. "Thank you, though,” he said. "Really, I appreciate it.”

masshiro -- 251

LAIKA OF THQ

[masshiro]

    He knew much of what Daichi was going through because he had gone through it himself. He had seen others go through it with this exact technique, and it was hard to watch and even harder to experience. No matter what you knew, what you told yourself, what you heard from others, your mind had a way of tricking itself and genjutsu only made matters worse. 

    It took a while for Daichi to calm down, and Masshiro simply backed up some and gave him space to do so, knowing that short of slapping him a few more times, there wasn't much else he could do.

"It could be so much worse, unfortunately. Believe it or not, I went easy on you."

    Nodding with a slight grin, he gave a bit of a shrug.

"Unpleasant as I said. It's a dangerous weapon, and an incredibly unkind thing to do to someone unless that's the goal."

    Shuddering, he remembered the first and the last time it was done to him, and it was still  slightly traumatic thinking back to those instances. As much as he wanted to share, they were rather intentionally gruesome thanks to who had taught him, and they didn't do the same service of holding back or properly warning him.

"Imagining that happening to you without knowing it's about to happen. That was my first experience. I'll save the details."
    
    Shuddering yet again, he just shook his head as he watched Daichi trying to compose himself once more.

"I hope it helped. Knowing the sensations and what it's like on the receiving end goes a long way in understanding and using the technique. Just don't use it casually. Not that any technique should be, but this isn't something like.....this..."

    Disappearing from view as if he were a mirage, Masshiro was no longer there. After a moment a large tree shot up front the ground and seemed to completely wrap around Daichi, leaving him right at the center of it. Masshiro was suddenly standing right in front of him, reaching out and poking his forehead.

"We call this the Demonic Illusion: Tree Binding Death. Don't worry, despite the name, your limbs won't catch fire, or your arms fall off, or anything deadly. You are just...stuck. Apologies, but I had to show this to you, because it is also an incredibly dangerous and powerful Genjutsu, but as you can guess, this is different for many reasons. You could interrogate someone, simply trap them as you try and escape, all sorts of uses. Making someone believe you've mortally wounded them, well you can guess the differing uses for such a technique."

    Reaching up he gave Daichi's forehead a decent thump and the Genjutsu came to an end, leaving a red mark right in the center of his forehead.

"In other words, don't use it unless you feel you need to use it."

[yamaguchi daichi]

I COULD EAT THE WORLD RAW

"I believe it,” Daichi said hoarsely. He’d known, objectively, that genjutsu was terrifying in concept, but he’d never really been put through his paces like that before. Unpleasant and unkind, as Masshiro said, but there was not much room for pleasantry and kindness on the battlefield, and being able to disable fighters from a distance was a massive boon. Even more terrifying was the idea of something like that being inflicted without warning or knowledge that it was a genjutsu. Daichi’s mouth twisted into a frown, and he shook his head. "I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Earnest, and horrified… he could only hope the person who had cast the genjutsu on Masshiro did it without malicious intent. It was a useful learning experience, though ideally the learning should always be in a safe, secure environment like he’d been in just now—though he could understand the appeal of being surprised by someone who didn’t have ill intent, but still made you think you were in a real combat scenario— His train of thought was abruptly interrupted by a great tree bursting up through the ground and wrapping around him, roots spilling out and a sturdy trunk binding him securely in place. Try as he might to move his hands forward to form a handseal, he couldn’t manage it—he was well and truly restrained. Masshiro had disappeared, but then he reappeared again to poke Daichi in the forehead; Daichi scowled. His head was throbbing, but he forced his Mind’s Eye open for just one brief moment to ensure that he was understanding the genjutsu correctly, then quickly closed it again to save himself the headache. He received a thonk on the head for his trouble, and he petulantly reached up to rub at the red spot Masshiro had left behind, looking for a moment not like the chuunin bodyguard of the Mizukage but just a surly, pouting younger cousin. "Scary name for something not half as terrifying as the other one,” Daichi said. "Useful to know, though, thank you.” He sighed heavily, now rubbing idly at his temples, trying to alleviate the pressure of his pounding headache. "Honestly, I dunno that I’m cut out for using genjutsu too heavily or too often, it’s—it seems so brutal, once you get past the basic stuff. But maybe I just need to get over myself.”

masshiro -- 393

LAIKA OF THQ

[masshiro]

"No need to for sympathy."

    Giving a heavy shrug, his focus shifted to Uemori for a moment, then back to Daichi, giving a low grunt.

"Experiences are an important part of learning, including the ones you don't much care for. I dealt with Genjutsu and now I use it as a tool. This weapon gave me the scar across my face, and now I'm it's master."

    Once more he was watching Daichi, closely, trying to get a read on him in a close environment he was so rarely given the opportunity for. This entire time he felt a pulling in his chest and in his mind, trying to teach something about their clan, about Genjutsu even, and it was far more difficult than it might have seemed. A part of him wanted to be more understanding and not mentally tear Daichi apart for no reason, and another part felt as if his former teacher had slipped into his mind and was telling him not to train so gently. It was obnoxious in truth, and at times made it hard to concentrate. Thankfully this was little more than instructions at the moment, and truthfully he wished there was another of him watching all of this unfold to take notes on himself and how he was as a teacher.

"It's usually an appropriate name, given the intended use is to disappear from vision, bind the opponent, and kill them while they are mentally incapacitated. Though, it's a rather dramatic name."

    Laughing as he thought about it objectively, he shrugged.

"I suppose most are."

    There was a second shrug, but a statement he understood all the same.

"We all have our strengths. It's up to you to decide if you want to focus on improving your strengths or your weaknesses. Only so much time in a day for training. Hopefully I helped to some degree."
    

[yamaguchi daichi]

With his Eye closed there was not much he could glean from Masshiro's words—the man was a blank page, utterly inscrutable, the inflection of his voice too subtle for Daichi to pick up on. Even still, the vague phrasing of I dealt with Genjutsu made him think that perhaps Masshiro had been dealt a harder hand than he was letting on, had lived through more than Daichi, in his relative inexperience, could fathom.

"I'm worried about spreading myself too thin," Daichi confessed, his mouth twisting. A line that he had been determined to straddle when he set out to join the academy was becoming wider and wider—as time went on he spent more of his efforts on his duties in the village, less and less on his responsibilities to the clan, and he was becoming aggressively aware that lasering in so acutely on his studies of sensory and fuinjutsu was leaving him lacking in other fields. "I could pull back from my strengths to shore up my weaknesses, but if I do... I dunno. I know it's good to be well-rounded, but I need to be the best I can be at what I already do."

He sighed, shaking his head. "You did help, though, I appreciate it. I can show you some fuin techniques that might be useful if you want—a paralysis seal might have some good synergy with your genjutsu..."

Daichi trailed off, sitting down right there on the ground and pressing his fingers against his eyelids. The vicious pounding of his headache was louder than his thoughts, overwhelmingly painful.

"Maybe not today, though," he said faintly. "Gonna need a bit."

[masshiro]

"It's certainly possible to spread yourself to thin, but we all have our limits. Don't push yourself or burn yourself out trying to learn everything. Both of us are still young, you more than me, so don't rush."

    He did more than his fair share of spreading himself thin, but a lot of it was intentional at times, and he had gotten rather good at juggling things. Not being in a role that was demanding helped, and not having any closeness that might grab the attention of the Mizukage likely helped as well. For all the missions he did, and studying he forced himself to do, he was fairly free as far as a shinobi could be. 

"I can't give you strong advice in either direction. It doesn't hurt to have focuses. I was given the rank of Special Jounin for example because of the focus I put on my strengths. It's for you to decide in the end. Not to lecture, but what you do as a shinobi is important, and your skills are what make you an asset."

    Heavily sighing, he thought back to more than a few lectures he had gotten for taking some parts and not other parts of his training seriously. The times he treated learning skills like a game or collecting knowledge, and not what they were meant to accomplish. It took years for him to grow up, partially having it punched into him, but he got there.

"Just remember something that took me too long to figure out the hard way; techniques aren't toys. You learn to wield a sword in order to use it against someone. You learn to form handseals to create jutsu to fight against other shinobi. Your knowledge and your skills are your tools."

    So much for not wanting to lecture, but sometimes it had to be said even if it seemed obvious. Waving his hands a bit dismissively, he walked closer and gave Daichi a heavy pat on the shoulder.

"We have plenty of time for that later. If you have anything else you need, we can do more now, or if you need a break then go take a break. You can always come find me again."

[yamaguchi daichi]

Part of him wanted to protest, to insist that he needed to push himself as hard as he was, that there simply wasn’t enough time—but he held his tongue in spite of himself, forcing himself to take in Masshiro’s advice and, if not internalize it, at least let it marinate for a while. Though it was rare, he thought, for someone from his clan, who shared his eyes, to affirm that his work was a shinobi was important. Assurance he didn’t know he needed—that there were some Yamaguchi, no matter how few, who shared his values in some capacity. Who saw the greater need that he saw. "So much of what I do is defensive, support-line,” Daichi said slowly, thoughtfully. "It’s—it’s hard to think of anything I do as inherently harmful, but my tools help others use their tools more efficiently. I knew that already, but… it’s a different way of looking at it, I guess. Thank you.” He felt useless more often than not. How could he not, when perpetually flanked by his Kage and his sister? The sanbi jinchuuriki and a swordsman of the mist? More to ruminate on. Masshiro’s hand clapped heavy on his shoulder, and Daichi released a deep, weighty sigh. "I think I need a break,” he said after a moment, a shameful confession reluctantly given. He took a fortifying breath, then got to his feet, closing his eyes against the way his head swam and the world briefly whizzed around him. "Thank you, though, really. You helped me out a lot. I just need to…” Trailing off into incoherence, Daichi mumbled something about needing a dog and a nap; he said goodbye and thank you and I’ll repay you for this about three more times before finally staggering off on his way home. [exit.]

masshiro -- 310

LAIKA OF THQ