[Itagaki Mitsumi]

Mitsumi's parents were constantly worried these days. Even more than usual.

True, she had come a long way from her darkest days, and leaving the walls of her family home no longer caused spikes of dread. But this was the first time she was going to be with the care of at least one of her parents in... ever, really. And it was for a week, and she was bound for the wilds. To train.

Was she pushing too hard? Trying to do too much, too fast? Maybe. Probably. But she was already far behind everyone else. Everyone else seemed to know what their ideal of strength looked like. Had techniques or strange abilities already to learn and refine. And she still hadn't even got a grasp on the fundamentals, save for chakra control. The one skill she could develop on her own.

No. She had to do this. Push herself past her limit, work her hands to the bone. And then, one day...

Mitsumi shook her head, checking her gear as she waited by the gate of the village for her instructor to arrive. It was early, and Mitsumi had arrived earlier than was even requested. She crouched down to check the contents of her pack again. Canteen. Basic toiletries. A mess kit. Bandages. Flint and steel. A bedroll. A single change of clothes. Dry rations. It was as light as she could make it, and it was still heavy. The kunai and shuriken holstered on her thighs would likely not get much use, but she confirmed them with a touch, regardless.

The compact bow strapped to the side of her pack and the narrow quiver attached to her belt were new additions, and lent to her for the purpose of this lesson. She had at least practiced the bare basics of archery in preparation, though she was far from confident.

Mitsumi straightened again, and shouldered the pack. Dawn was breaking, and she was going to leave the village for the first time in her life. Her heart pounded, and she fidgeted with her hair, her clothes, the straps of her pack.

Backing down wasn't an option. She'd be fine as long as she kept telling herself that.

[hirana kizumi]

Hunting trips were best started before dawn, while the sky was still dark and the sun was only just beginning to creep up over the distant horizon. Jokyu Kenichi was early, but his young charge was even earlier, and when he joined Mitsumi at the village gate it was with a curious look of surprise. "You’re early, Itagaki-san,” he said: a plainly stated observation of the plainly obvious. "You slept well, I hope? You’ll need your energy for the coming days.” Kenichi was a man quite clearly on the far edge of forty, with crow’s feet creased into the corners of his eyes and more salt than pepper in his beard. His warm brown skin and dark hair were in stark contrast with his strikingly light eyes—at one point they may have been a vivid blue, but now they were cloudy and pale, and it was unclear to what extent the man still had sight. He carried a densely packed backpack and a bow slung over his shoulder, a quiver of fifty hours hanging low from his hip. "We won’t be far,” Kenichi said, smiling briefly at the girl. He gestured for her to follow as he checked out with the gate guards—but he paused, allowing her to take the lead through the gate proper. "Just to the Valley of Lightning and some kilometers beyond. How much do you know about hunting and camping, Itagaki-san? Have you covered survival skills in your lessons already?”

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[Itagaki Mitsumi]

"I-I did, Jokyu-sensei," A lie, evidenced by the quiver in her voice and dark circles forming under her eyes. She wasn't exactly tired, but sleep had been fitful. Nothing new, really. Anxiety about leaving the family home, coupled with night terrors. A slightly different spin on very old companions. Mitsumi found herself staring at his eyes, before abruptly turning away. It wouldn't do to be hypocrite, and yet she couldn't help but wonder... how much could he see?

It should have been a worrying thought, but, no matter how guilty it made her feel, she felt some tension leave her body. He certainly carried himself as someone highly competent, and there was no way he'd be permitted to take a student into the wilds if he was not. Even better if he couldn't see her clearly. It was a skill she was here to learn, after all. To see without eyes.

She bowed at the waist as they began to head out, and followed behind Jokyu's heels. And then blinked as she was encouraged to take the lead. There was a moment of apprehension, but she obliged him, shifting her pack as she finally - finally - stepped beyond the gates of Kumogakure for the first time she could properly remember. She allowed herself to live in that moment, before she had to focus on the question asked. "I have... studied it. At the Academy, a-and by reading. But, I've never put it into practice. Not really. Didn't have a chance to, with the, um... the plague." She trailed off. Mitsumi knew the chronology didn't match up. If the plague was what was in her way, she should have graduated a lot earlier. Hopefully he wouldn't ask. Her gaze unfocused for a moment as memory demanded her attention. She pushed the intrusive thoughts down and away.

"I know how to start a fire, make a simple shelter, find and prepare drinkable water, signal for help, identify edible plants... a-at least in theory." She listed off what she had studied, trying to think of anything else she had been taught. "But... no hunting. Not really. Just the basic stealth skills we all learn. I practiced a bit with the bow, but... that's almost the last step of a hunt, isn't it, Jokyu-sensei?" She was trying to be open and honest in this at least, not trying to under- nor oversell herself.

[hirana kizumi]

A lie indeed, but a harmless one, Kenichi thought—whatever restlessness had interrupted her sleep, undoubtedly they would be chased away by long miles of hiking. If she still didn’t sleep well tonight, then a weight seal added to a backpack would be enough to tire anyone out for a good night’s rest. Once she had soaked in the feeling of being beyond Kumogakure’s gates, Kenichi led the way again, striking out first on the path that led south and down from the village. The road was somewhat steep but well-traveled, and so long as they didn’t rush there would be no danger of trips or tumbles. He listened quietly as Mitsumi listed off the things she’d learned, and nodded with approval. "All vital skills for hunting,” he said, "and we’ll have a chance to put them into practice. Most of these skills draw on the same core principles: observation of and respect for your surroundings. You’re right—using the bow is very nearly the last thing we do, and you should only be drawing your bow when you know you’re confident in your shot.” He explained the principles of tracking wild game—looking for tracks, droppings, other signs in the foliage and surrounding environment that animals had passed through; how to pick which animals to target depending on the purpose of the hunt and their animal of choice. They would be hunting mountain goats, but it would take time to get to where they tended to congregate in their habitats. After a mile or two down the beaten path, the elevation leveled out into a plateau peppered with craggy grass. Some of the things Kenichi had talked about were present, but he held back, and instead looked at Mitsumi. "Tell me what you see,” he said, inviting her to step forward. "Don’t just look with your eyes—imagine your chakra like a balloon expanding out, and try to feel your surroundings as you observe.” Whether or not she had the chakra control to accomplish this feat remained to be seen—but it was an exercise that Kenichi put most of his charges through, to gauge their potential aptitude for sensory techniques.

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[Itagaki Mitsumi]

Mitsumi wasn't planning on becoming a hunter, not really, but the skills she was learning could still be important. Tracking people was similar to tracking an animal, after all. And, with the various jobs shinobi were entrusted with, one never knew hunting skills could come in handy. So she listened carefully, making notes in a small pad.

Between the grueling endurance regiment Tetsumaki had put her through, and the impromptu lesson with that self-described craftsman she actually felt relatively well-prepared for the hike, and some of what would follow. The pack was heavier than she expected, but she wasn't here to complain, she was here to practice and learn. And to finally see the world beyond the village with her own two eyes.

"R-right," Mitsumi said, then took a bracing breath. A step forward, and she scanned her surroundings, comfortable enough with the remote locale and Jokyu's apparent lack of good eyesight to brush the hair concealing her face out of the way, so she could see properly with both eyes. But she wasn't here to practice her eyes, as important as they were. So she closed them, and formed a simple seal with her hands.

First concentrating and controlling the flow of chakra within her. Something she had gotten fairly skilled at. Then the more difficult one. She pushed chakra out of her, and her awareness with it. Her brow furrowed in concentration. Chakra did expand out of her. First too strongly. Then too weakly. But it did slowly expand as she remembered what little she had been taught and practiced. Still clearly new to this, but not a rank amateur.

But last time, the target of her search was close by and clearly defined. This time it was more general. As she stilled her mind and kept pushing her "balloon" of chakra out, the world seemed to oscillate from emptiness to incomprehensible noise. But between those two extremes, there were snippets to be gleaned.

Mitsumi eventually opened her eyes, and maintained the hand seal. The feeling of sensory overload magnified as her extrasensory input warred with the visual. But it helped clarify some things. After a few minutes, Mitsumi finally felt confident enough to speak. Her reach with her sensory ability was only a handful of meters, but even that revealed some things, other than keeping track of Jokyu, even with her eyes off of him.

"There's not much grass up this high," She began slowly, then pointed out by a rock around fifteen metres away. "But that one looks... feels off. Different." She wasn't exactly sure why. Was it a little shorter? Had it been nibbled on, or trampled underfoot? Underhoof? She couldn't say for certain."So... I'd start there. If it were me. Or, maybe there. The rocks are a little uneven?" She looked back to Jokyu, face more fully exposed, with the hair still tucked behind an ear. Her expression was uncertain, but earnest. She was here to learn, but she also wanted to make a good impression. "What do you think?"

[hirana kizumi]

It took time and focus, but Kenichi watched—inasmuch as he was able—patiently as Mitsumi slowly, carefully took herself through the exercise. It was clear that this was not an entirely foreign concept to her, which was encouraging, and she had practiced enough to be able to snap into that mindset of searching when asked. Very, very promising. "I think you have good instincts,” Kenichi said, smiling. "Let’s start there, then. Try to maintain your awareness as we travel—it’s good practice for differentiating different kinds of chakra. My signature is much different from a bird’s, but try to see if you can pick apart a bird from a marmot, or other things about the environment. We’ll take it slow.” From the rock that Mitsumi had pointed out they carried onward and downward. The further away from the beaten path they got, the more wild the wilds became, craggy grass and yarrow and aster dripping spots of bright color into the landscape. Flashes of orange and brown would peek out periodically as a small family of foxes embarked on a hunting trip of their own. As they journeyed, Kenichi gently coached Mitsumi on her foot placement, teaching her how to move more quietly through the wilderness—partially because it was a good skill to learn how to implement, even if she had already learned it in textbooks, and partially to force her to split her attention, keep her engaged in conversation and maintaining her sensory awareness at the same time.

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[Itagaki Mitsumi]

"Okay... Yes, Jokyu-sensei," Mitsumi managed to hide most of the apprehension in her voice. Maintaining her expanded awareness, as limited as it was, was difficult enough with her eyes closed. Much more difficult with them open. She hadn't even tried to walk or do much of anything else at the same time.

She shifted the pack on her shoulders, and traveled alongside her teacher. Her focus wavered, the field of awareness fluctuating and shrinking, unstable in size and intensity. Sometimes wincing when she poured too much out, and the feedback merely sent a wash on useless information, or scowling when she put out too little, and her awareness dwindled to almost nothing.

And then she also had to listen to Jokyu's advice about how to walk, how to move, how to breathe. How to avoid making sounds, keeping downwind, not leaving tracks... it was a lot to keep her focus on, and Mitsumi wasn't much of a conversationalist for most of the journey. But she wouldn't complain. This was a hard path she had chosen, and she didn't need anyone's pity or mercy. Didn't want it. She could do this. She had to do this.

Between the heavy pack and the strain of trying to maintain a technique she was barely a novice in brought fatigue faster than Mitsumi anticipated. And yet... it was fascinating. To not just experience the wilds she had never tread before, not just to see and hear them, but to feel them. To become aware of a small living creature, before her eyes confirmed it as a fox. To feel something small and living flit overhead: a sparrow. Despite her focus, despite the fatigue, and her determination, Mitsumi still found a small smile on her face. Being out here was, in a word, liberating.

"Everything feels so... alive," Mitsumi said, marvel in her voice. Jokyu was like a beacon, a large pillar of life she could ground her senses on. But the small bursts of life from smaller creatures, and even the sway of grass and foliage gave the impression that the entire world was, somehow, a living, breathing thing in and of itself. Mitsumi suddenly stopped, then pointed ahead. "Some of the foliage here has been trampled, hasn't it?" Mitsumi ventured, cautiously. It didn't move the same way. "Could be tracks?" Mitsumi didn't sound confident, but she was here to test herself, not just rely on Jokyu. If she was wrong, then she was wrong.

[hirana kizumi]

Mitsumi was focused—Kenichi did most of the talking, but that was by design. When he felt her face scrunch up or had the feeling that her frustration was mounting he was careful to go quiet for some time, giving the exercise an ebb-and-flow to allow her to re-ground her senses without the additional stimulus when she was struggling too much. Training to the point of failure was critical for most skills—not so for sensory, at least to Kenichi's mind. To train to failure in sensory was to allow an utter overwhelm of white noise into the delicate structure of your mind, or else risk your chakra rubberband-snapping back from the perimeter you had expanded it to. She was doing well, though. It was clear she was tired, but she seemed to be relaxing in increments, growing more comfortable as the minutes and hours ticked by. Kenichi stopped when Mitsumi stopped; she gestured and he stooped to investigate, looking not with his eyes but with the careful touch of his fingers grazing lightly over the trampled grass. "Come look," he said, waving her over. He traced the outline of what were, indeed, tracks: the soft outline of caprine hooves that had smashed into stiff grass. "They're very similar to deer at first look, but deer tracks are much larger and are slightly... narrower?" It was a difficult thing to describe, but he could point out deer tracks for her to compare if they came across them later. "Let's continue," he said, rising up. "Follow the tracks and keep an eye out for droppings. These are relatively fresh, so our quarry won't be far." He paused, glancing over at her. "Unless you'd rather rest? There's no shame in taking a break and conserving your strength."

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LAIKA OF THQ

[Itagaki Mitsumi]

It was all a rather novel experience, so Mitsumi wasn't going to let any of it pass her by. Still, she had to steel herself for a moment, and force herself to keep that expanded awareness up, before she jogged over to crouch down to see what Jokyu had to show her.

"I... see..." She made a mental note of it, but this was her first time seeing any kind of wild tracks, so the distinction was a little lost on her. Still, no matter how small a bit of information it was, and how unlikely it was to be of use to her later, it was knowledge she didn't have before. She took out her notepad again, and traced a crude sketch of the hoof print, then sighed.

She had stretched her attention too thin, and lost the awareness. "I'm fine! Just one... moment..." Mitsumi scrambled back to her feet, and placed her hands in a seal again, expanding out her awareness once more. It was coming easier, now, but it still took effort and focus. Even if she had slept well last night, she was going to sleep like the dead tonight.

"Let's continue, Jokyu-sensei. Before we lose our quarry." It was likely many minutes or even hours away, but she still took a moment to brush her fingers over the quarrels in her quiver. She took the lead, doing her level best to follow - and feel - where the grass had been trampled, and where more of those narrow hoof prints could be found.

[hirana kizumi]

Kenichi was careful not to betray any feeling towards Mitsumi’s decision one way or the other—the feedback loop of pushing oneself too hard in search of approval was a dangerous one that Kenichi knew well, so he accepted Mitsumi’s decision to continue onward as neutrally as possible. It was her decision to make—if she was tired and it ended up being too much for her, then she would learn. If she was accurately gauging her own strength and had enough in the tank to carry on, then that too was valuable information. So they continued. He did pause briefly to show Mitsumi deer tracks when they came across some—demonstrated the different angle of the toes, how much larger they were compared to the goat’s, more widely spaced apart—but the diversion only took a minute or two before they once again took up their quarry’s trail. Another two hours would pass before Kenichi drew to a stop, gesturing for Mitsumi to do the same. There was a rustle of leaves and the snapping of branches—a lone goat, trailing behind his herd, chewed idly on some foliage, shrouded by low-hanging boughs and rough brush. Silently, Kenichi gestured; he knocked an arrow but did not draw his bow, instead waiting again for Mitsumi to take the lead if she so wanted—this was her quarry more than his, and it was up for her to decide whether or not she wanted to try and claim the creature’s life for her own.

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[Itagaki Mitsumi]

The strain of keeping up her awareness was the most steady drain on her endurance. Hiking was also fatiguing in a way distinct from running. But between keeping the flow of Chakra pointed out of her body, hiking, *and* learning to track a goat... she could likely walk for a few more hours yet, but her brain was buzzing. Begging for a reprieve.

Fortunately, the fact that her mind was burdened with work left it little time to wander or betray her. They could finish this hunt, show that she could do this, then... then maybe she could afford the gaps in the armor show. Just long enough for her to rest.

Mitsumi caught her thoughts wandering, and sharpened up as rustling foliage won her attention. She crouched down as Jokyu gestured, and unshouldered her bow. She glanced over to her teacher, then at the goat. He was ready, and clearly able, but was not drawing back a shot. He was leaving it to her, she realized.

She licked her lips, and carefully withdrew an arrow from her quiver, and nocked it. Her purple eyes focused on the quarry.

It looked so oblivious. So innocent. Mitsumi had never killed anything larger than a spider before. But...

Her expression steeled, and she began to draw the bow and aim.

But she had eaten meat. Helped butcher animals. And she was aiming to go into a profession where she would have to fight. Likely kill at least once. If she couldn't do this... She might as well go home and give up now.

The fletching touched her unscarred cheek as she aimed at best she could. Her stance wasn't perfect, but she had clearly spent at least a little time at an archery range in preparation for this excursion.

The arrow flew.

It wasn't a miss, but it wasn't a good hit, either. The arrow missed the mitals, instead sinking into the goat's hind leg, causing it to start and bleat in a panic. Mitsumi fumbled for a second arrow as the goat began to bolt.

[hirana kizumi]

Mitsumi drew, aimed… and missed the mark. She hit the goat, which was promising—Kenichi wasn’t expecting her to be a deadeye archer on the first try. It panicked, its slit pupils widening in panic as the arrowhead sunk into the meat of its leg, and after skittering in place for a moment to get its bearings it took off. For a moment, Kenichi considered ending the exercise here. He would spare the animal no small amount of pain and fear by loosing his own arrow and taking its life; there would always been another hunt, another try. But suffering could be a lesson all on its own. A lesson hard-learned, and better to start learning sooner than later. Kenichi lowered his bow, and tilted his head. "A good first attempt,” he said. "Don’t be discouraged. It will be easier to track now, slower and less careful. Follow it, keep low and quiet, and try again when we catch up to it. Widen your stance next time—it’ll help steady your hand.” Once again, he allowed Mitsumi to take the lead in the pursuit of their quarry: she was fully holding the reins now, with Kenichi there only to guide and advise.

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[Itagaki Mitsumi]

Mitsumi tried to swallow the lump of panic rising in her throat, then nodded mutely. She wanted to bolt after the poor creature, but forced herself to slow down and do it the way Jokyu-sensei had taught her. It felt like her muscles were creaking in protest, and her mind buzzed against her fragile focus. The whole point was to maintain her awareness when she was feeling stressed or overwhelmed. If she was going to cut it as a ninja of Kumogakure no Sato - a kunoichi at all - she needed to be able to handle this much, at least.

If she couldn't handle a wounded goat, how was she going to handle wounded people? Or killing them? They weren't assassins, but sometimes such things were necessary.

It felt like their mind was fraying at the edges as the already long hunt stretched out longer. The goat was indeed easier to track. Slower and bleeding. Tracks unsteady and uneven. Her awareness waxed and waned, unstable but always present. Mitsumi's breathing had become deep and uneven itself. She could feel anxiety or perhaps panic starting to build within. She held it at bay for now. Just a little longer. Just a little longer.

Her leaden limbs and narrowed vision eventually brought her back to the goat. As Jokyu-sensei had said, the slow and methodical approach had eventually caught up to the panicked creature. Still panicked - it lay on the ground, bleating feebly as it struggled to try to right itself. But the wound on its leg had opened too wide.

Mitsumi's heart ached, and she flinched away from the sight, before she took a trip of deep breaths. A new arrow was nocked, and she lifted the bow and her gaze. Her lip trembled, and she widened her stance as she had been advised.
"I'm sorry," She breathed, and she wasn't sure why, or for what. For not ending this painlessly? For killing it just so she could get a fraction stronger? For hesitating?

The goat managed to get two of its hooves under it.

Mitsumi's second arrow flew true, thudding into the side and hitting something vital. It twitched a few times, then fell still.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and bile in her throat. Her knees felt weak, and she staggered. But she did not fall.

"It's... It's done, Jokyu-sensei." Not clean work, and Mitsumi could not hide her clear and acute exhaustion any more.

[hirana kizumi]

Mitsumi was struggling—not just with maintaining her sensory awareness, but with managing her emotions. Regret prickled within Kenichi’s chest. He hadn’t intended for the girl to suffer, and he worried now that he was pushing her beyond her limits, that he was too eager for her to develop quickly, that hurting her would be the consequence of his own poor judgment. Just as he was about to call it, however, the path ended with the dying goat at its conclusion. Mitsumi steadied herself and issued a quiet apology before loosing her arrow—remembering to widen her stance, giving herself a steadier foundation, and Kenichi was impressed that she’d recalled his advice in the state she was in. The arrow struck true, and the goat expired. Kenichi knelt, placing his hands gently on Mitsumi’s shoulders. "You did so well,” he said softly. "Excellent, excellent work. I’ll set up camp so we can rest. You can let go, Mitsumi-chan. It’s done.” Let go of her awareness, or let go of the torrent of emotion she was just barely restraining; that she did not fall was admirable, but she also needed to learn when to let herself sit down. Once the girl was settled, Kenichi would lay out a bedroll for Mitsumi to lay down properly; then he set up a small campsite, getting everything prepared for a quiet night’s rest in the woods. They would need to skin the goat and prepare the meat for travel, but that lesson could come later—the girl had put all her effort into the day’s work, and had more than earned her rest.

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