[Uzumaki Kohaku]

I WILL PROTECT THOSE

Everything in Kohaku's body was sore. Muscles he didn't even know he had were sore. Senju Kazuto's training was brutal to say the least, but he couldn't say he didn't ask for it.

It was a two prongued feeling, training with Kazuto. On one hand, his more logical thought made him thankful that the Senju took him under his wing and took their training so seriously. Even if their training so far was mostly simple kata and physical conditioning, he had made more progress in these last few weeks than years of work that he had done on his own. On the other hand, though, part of him cursed Kazuto for putting him through such a rigorous ordeal.

"Well, he did say he was going to break me." Kohaku muttered to himself, chuckling at thte thought.

"But I still need to work on these damn techniques if I'm going to graduate. I suck at using my chakra properly, and if I don't get that down soon I'll make for one sorry excuse of a shinobi..."

Kohaku sighed, pushing himself up off the ground before taking in a deep breath and trying to clear his thoughts. He closed his eyes, his brow tensing as he took in a quick, decisive breath before flashing a small hand seal.

"Bunshin no Jutsu!"

Beside him, a puff of smoke burst out, but much to his dismay, there was no semblence of a clone where he had expected one to be.

"God dammit..." Kohaku sighed, letting out a graveled hum before trying again, and again, and again...

^{WHO CANNOT PROTECT THEMSELVES}

---

^{senju rinka}

Temp By: Akira

[senju rinka]

KICHIJOTEN PRESENTS: A fox sat and watched Kohaku as he laid on the ground, her head tilted with sharp curiosity. The man stood; the fox laid down. Two kits tumbled up to her side, nipping and wrestling around and over their mother until she yipped once, loudly, and they settled down and laid placidly on her flanks. A puff of smoke plumed at Kohaku’s side; the fox yawned, her sharp-toothed maw settling into something that might have been an amused smile. "There you are, foxlings.” From between one sturdy tree and the next emerged Rinka, a basket of breads and cheeses in hand. She knelt to give the babies each a single scritch beneath the chin, her hair falling in a long golden curtain over one shoulder. "It’s quite rude to stare when someone is practicing, you know. You’ll make him shy.” Teal eyes crinkled with amusement, Rinka turned to look at Kohaku, examining the evidence of smoke wisping away from his side. "Would you like some help?” she asked, setting her basket down. One of the kits sniffed curiously at a thick loaf of bread poking out from a picturesque gingham cloth. "The mind struggles to absorb new experiences when it’s tired—take a moment to rest.” She extended a hand, heavy with golden jewelry, for Kohaku to shake. "My name is Rinka. Do you like cheese?” Uzumaki Kohaku -- 223

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Uzumaki Kohaku]

I WILL PROTECT THOSE

Kohaku turned in the direction of the voice, watching as a tan skinned woman stepped out of the treeline and placed a small basket on the ground.

"Uhh..." Kohaku muttered as the woman came closer, soon introducing herself as Rinka. "I, uh- I mean, sure." It seemed to take a moment for the Uzumaki's mind to put together whatever it was that was happening. There was curiosity just as much as hesitation in his face as he extended his hand to her own and shook it in the familiar greeting. "Kohaku."

While he did not immediately recognize the woman or know who she was, he had seen her once or twice around the Senju compound and that put him a little at ease. If she was familiar enough in the village to be welcomed there, then surely she was nothing short of an ally to him, especially after offering to help him practice his jutsu. The Uzumaki soon nodded his head as a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, you're probably right. Kazuto doesn't have an off switch when it comes to this stuff, so I kinda got the same ethic hammered into me after these last couple weeks."

The younger man paused a moment, moving to his backpack off to the side of the yard, opening it and pulling out his water bottle to take a sip. He let out a breath, smiling satisfactorily as he swallowed the water and returned his gaze to Rinka. "I know I probably look a bit old for the title, but I'm still in the academy. Trying to get all my graduation techniques in order and so far, all I can manage is the substitution technique. Got any pointers on how to actually make a clone?" Kohaku asked with a slight chuckle, an almost pathetic look on his face as he admitted he needed a little extra help.

^{WHO CANNOT PROTECT THEMSELVES}

---

^{senju rinka}

Temp By: Akira

[senju rinka]

KICHIJOTEN PRESENTS: Rinka laughed, a warm, gentle sound. "Kazuto has a father’s work ethic,” she replied. "Tireless and sleep-deprived. A fine example to follow, but even the paternal need breaks.” As Kohaku refreshed and rehydrated, Rinka busied herself with retrieving a loaf of bread and a hearty hunk of cheese from her basket, wrapping them up in soft linen and tying the package securely: a picturesque presentation straight from a slice of life manga. She tucked the package inside Kohaku’s backpack without a word about it, and carried right on with the conversation. "I was sixteen when I first entered the academy,” Rinka said, smoothing down her dress as she stood up straight. "Tallest and oldest of my class. It was quite nice, actually—I washed the parts of the chalkboard the other students couldn’t reach.” She considered the request for pointers; as if needing to refresh her memory of the details of the technique, Rinka performed it, weaving the three requisite handseals so thoughtlessly swiftly that the motions all blurred together. A clone popped into existence beside her and waved at Kohaku with a warm smile. "If I remember correctly,” she said, "bunshin is often one of the most difficult academy techniques to master, because it’s the first instance of a student learning to mold chakra and project it out in an act of creation. It is somewhat like a shed snakeskin—gauzy and immaterial, but existing beyond its native source.” The twin Rinkas tilted their heads in unison, watching Kohaku with a careful eye. "Try again,” she suggested gently. "Perhaps we can identify where the problem lies.” Uzumaki Kohaku -- 267

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM