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I WILL BE YOUR LIGHT, YOUR BEACON OF HOPE

A chill breeze rolled through the streets of Takigakure. Morning dew still dressing the plants, a thin layer of fog beginning to fade with the rising sun. The humidity that normally settled in the warmer months of Bonchi no Kuni had not quite taken its hold over the village just yet. The various cascading waterfalls could be heard from all around, their strength echoing as young Red sat to meditate on a cliffside that overlooked the village.

It was still early morning, though not so early that the walkways had been barren. A handful of folks could be seen from his vantage point, going through their day to day business as the shinobi took the time to try and center himself.

His legs crossed beneath him, hands resting on his knees before a deep sigh would escape the genin, his eyes open and body slouching forward slightly. It had been a week since Red had been removed from his fellow genin teammates, the other two going with their sensei to Kirigakure to compete in the chunin exams in hopes for a promotion. It still felt a little sore, despite being on that team for nearly a year, that his sensei would tell him that he was not ready for the exams. And so, he’d been left behind. Removed from their team, and thus placed in limbo as the village's administrators took their time in placing him on another team.

Try as he might to clear his mind of the thoughts, the self put-downs that he had been berating himself with ever since they had left, his efforts seemed fruitless. His meditation was clouded with self-doubt, like a dark cloud he simply could not shake. Red knew his worth. He knew his strengths and weaknesses, but he also knew that given his current skillset, he would not do well to argue with the words of his old sensei. Sheer force of will and tenacity was not enough to achieve a promotion and do well in the exams. He would need more. Need to be more.

"So what are we looking for now, then?” Red mumbled to himself, his voice rasping lightly. "Do we need more strength? Do we need to cover our weaknesses, or just work harder to improve our assets? …How do I even do that? I need to find a way to be content in solitude.”

Another sigh would escape him as his body seemed to relax before reaching to the side for his water bottle and grabbing a drink.

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Hotarubi enjoyed the cold, he enjoyed water: but moisture was not particularly either of those things. At night he would sleep with a window fully open; he enjoyed a cool breeze. So, for one of his days not at the academy and no longer bound by work schedules - he had opportunities to try and enjoy life outside of being a Shinobi, which wasn't a lot but hey, it worked for him. He recognised an individual - his vantage point above others was likely it and Hotarubi had initially mistook him for being some sort of... guard watch duty? The longer he stared, the more rude he felt he was becoming. He didn't look like a Yamakira, which was probably one of the defining elements that made Hotarubi say anything at all. The black haired one certainly spoke like a Yamakira. Not one that he ever recognised. Hotarubi stood below him, he couldn't hear the mumbling but could understand the tone of it. He put his hands on his sides. "You havin' trouble up there?" Hotarubi could roughly determine he was a Shinobi, but that was roughly about it - he didn't look like a lot. In fact, Hotarubi looked stronger. (His assessment, obviously) "Yer' bein weird muttering to yourself." Hotarubi could be a bit cheeky on the occasion.

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I WILL BE YOUR LIGHT, YOUR BEACON OF HOPE

Bringing the bottle to his lips, Red’s attention would be brought behind him, an unfamiliar voice calling to the genin. His brow raised, turning the lid to tighten it back on the bottle as he set it down and looked over his shoulder to identify who the voice belonged to.

"Weird…” Red said to himself, locking eyes with the fellow as he rose from his meditative state. His hand would instinctively go to his pocket as he eyed the man up and down. He was a bit taller than Red. Broader, too. He had lighter brown colored eyes, with a peculiar colored peach topping his head, while the sides of his hair closer resembled his own hair color. Despite the man’s odd but unique first appearance, almost looking as if he just got out of bed, Red couldn’t quite say he’d seen him around or knew who the guy had been.

"Trouble…” He’d echo, mirroring the man’s words again before a brief pause. "No. Just lost in thought, I guess.”

His head tilted slightly to one side, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "Meditating doesn’t really come easily. Too much goin’ on in here.” He said, turning his gaze to the side as he brought a finger to tap his temple. His eyes tightened as he turned his attention back to the taller teen standing a few meters away from him, letting out a heavier breath, lifting his chin before he’d speak again.

"Feel like I’d remember someone with a look like that. Name’s Shin. Everyone just calls me Red, though. You a genin too?”

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That was definitely a name that Hotarubi didn't know. Shin did notice some of his features, and Hotarubi noted his noting. His pink hair was a chosen hair dye that he profusely enjoyed: only because it wasn't a typical color that should be adorned on the head of a Shinobi and his hair was normally quite dark brown. "Yamakira Hotarubi." If the individual got closer, he would also begin to note his own body texture was strange: a body made out of less polygons, and more sharp edges to be found about his person and less to be concerned with that of a human's flowing features. Maybe he could give some wisdom that he had learned both from his academy instructors and from the Sage Apprentice, which he had recently met? "Something like that." His response to Shin's wondering of his shinobi status. That would be... Yeah, Hotarubi didn't want to say anything about that. It was an obvious deflection, but Hotarubi didn't give a shit about it - "I can always help with it? We all have our little enemies, mine just happen to be family." Hotarubi's voice rose slightly to be able to enunciate to the Genin, Shin. Nageku was on his ass all of the time, and when it wasn't Nageku it was the niggling feeling in his back.

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Red offered a small smirk, a single huff of laughter as the corner of his lip turned at the pink haired teen’s words. "Better you know them, at least.”

Red never had much family of his own. He was the only child of only children, no cousins, no aunts or uncles. He liked the idea of having a bigger family someday, but it was all just unfamiliar to him. Aside from his parents, the only family he ever really knew was the family that he had found in his team, or his childhood friends, regardless of the fact that they were few and far between, and his team had since been disbanded.

"Figure it’s probably a bit easier to figure out a motive if you know your enemies. Personal. Out there enemies just feel like whoever they tell you is or isn’t.”

He’d thought about that before. It was always something Red seemed to grapple with, when it boiled down to it. Simply because someone doesn’t wear the same forehead protector as you wasn’t enough reason for him to hurt someone or worse. Even if family was your enemy, at least you’d probably have a better understanding of the reason behind the conflict.

The young genin would take in a deep breath, shaking his head slightly to shake the train of thought, wanting to focus himself back on the present more so than the politics behind the scenes, or the thoughts of enemies.

"Hotarubi.” Red would repeat, speaking the fellows name to commit it better to memory. "Won’t soon forget it.” Red smirked. "Humor me then. How do you find yourself tranquil?”

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Right. He supposed so. "Why need a motive?" It was to suggest that sometimes evil was evil, and power was power. It could be binary, and it didn't need explaining. But, the boy repeated his name back to him and Hotarubi nodded, folding his hands underneath his armpits. It wasn't a great deal. He shrugged his shoulders at ... Just because he couldn't didn't mean he couldn't help. "I just am." It was far from the truth, because he considered himself a maelstrom of emotions and noise - inside his mind. Externally it was a lot more stoic, but everything tended to bubble beneath the surface. He was telling the truth to a degree, and that was that he held a high view of himself, but there Bikuta was a Genin and him still an Academy Student... so that had to count for something. "I have faith in my own abilities, it's that which gives me the faith of self preservation." he offered, staring around Bikuta before at their eyes. Did they have a need for something, like how he himself had suffered at the hands of his own clansmen? He cleared his throat. "I'uh, try to meditate as well. Obviously."

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The corner of his mouth perked up slightly as Hotarubi went on. Red himself could relate highly to his peer's words. Faith in his own abilities.

"Faith of self-preservation.” Again he echoed Hotarubi, letting out a small hum. "I can relate, but I want more than just that. You think someone like Lord Ryū or Lady Yutakako Takara got to where they are because all they sought was self-preservation? The Mizukage especially. You know he's only 14? Talk about a prodigy...” Red noticed he began to go off on a small tangent when he began to list off a few of his more favored shinobi, and he'd turn to the side a moment before snapping his mind back on track. "Sorry.” He started. "Faith of self-preservation is fine and all, but I guess all I really mean to say is that ambition has to outweigh that if you ever want to become something.”

He'd pause for a moment, knowing that his words had honestly been more self-reflective than anything else, hoping Hotarubi wouldn't take too much offense to what he'd said.

His next response though would bring another point of inquiry into Red's mind, Hotarubi saying that he too meditated to calm himself. Meditation was not exactly a constant exercise for Red himself, but it was something he was trying to implement more as of late.

"Honestly meditation comes easiest for me when I spar.” Red said, his attention turning to Hotarubi with a small grin coming to his face. "Fighting helps me enter a void. Where I don't have time to think or dwell. I have to be present. That wouldn't be something you want to try, would it?” Red said with a small pause. "Think of it like training. See how your self-preservation goes.”

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Yes. Faith of self preservation - as Bikuta repeated Hotarubi's words, Hotarubi nodded. "That's the one." but he had more information on why he thought that way as opposed to Bikuta. The Mizukage was 14? His nostrils flared a bit. "You're joking?" Hotarubi hadn't learned about the other leaders beyond Ryu. How good could have a person be in order to be a Kage? It didn't bode well. Hotarubi thought well of himself but he didn't think himself to be Kage level in comparison to Ryu. A fool would make that comparison and he was no fool. But were Kirigakure so weak to have a fourteen year old? "I don't believe it." They were probably a puppet. "I guess you're right. I have faith of self preservation but we all have drives to do more than survive." Everybody had different motivations, that was for sure. Nageku was intent on being the laziest motherfucker on the battlefield, whereas Hotarubi wanted to be an unstoppable force. "If you're asking me out just say it." He wanted to benchmark himself against this Genin, to see how far he had come in the way of his own Shinobi training. But - he grinned. It was an obvious yes. "I'm trying to train my strength, so don't mind if I throw you around a little bit." He was overeager in how he thought it was going to go, not knowing that his superior was superior for a reason.

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Another small smirk would come to Red’s face at the expected challenge. There was more to his mind from the bits of their prior conversation, Hotarubi’s disbelief in the Mizukage and his abilities. Of course, Red only knew so much about the man because of what he was able to read from archives and records, but at the rank of a Genin not much more could be learned. To the task at hand, though.

"I hate to break it to you, but you’re not exactly my type.” He responded to the joke, though such conversation was never much his forte. He much preferred to keep things shorter and to the point, and if that didn’t work, his hands could always do the talking.

"Training your strength?” Red questioned, his eyebrow raising slightly as he began to take a few steps forward and passed his fellow shinobi. Now that was especially something he could relate to. "This should be fun, then.”

Leaving a distance of between two and three meters between the two, Red would assume something of a loose fighting stance to ready himself. "No jutsu, then?” He asked, rolling his neck and shoulders to prepare for the spar. "Ready when you are, pinky.”

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"You're mine." Hotarubi was free to let him interpretate that how he wished. But Hotarubi nodded at his assertion. Strength was the name of the game in his eyes. The man didn't look like much of anything and perhaps it was just his lack of training or his bloodline, but Bikuta didn't appear to be much of a threat. Still, they didn't seem deterred at fighting in the open space. Hotarubi briefly looked around them. It wasn't busy, but it was not empty either. There were bridges, buildings and waterfalls nearby. "If you wish." the childish remark with his hair would be the last thing to bother him - he did it like that to draw attention. Hotarubi would try his best to speed at the man and deliver a hard punch with the full intent on going through Red's chest and out of his back. But, being 300lbs made him slow and predictable. Hotarubi did not mind, because Taijutsu was weak against his superior body. But Red would be finding that out shortly. All he had in his favour was that Hotarubi hadn't learned how to control his bloodline yet. The second attack from Hotarubi would be to wherever Red moved next to deliver an equally strong headbutt. But again: sloppy, with the training of an academy student.

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At this point, Red couldn’t quite tell whether Hotarubi had been serious, or if he was just continuing on with the same joke. Either way, it would force a look to his face, somewhere between a smirk, and surprise. Admittedly, Red never did well in social situations, so he thought it best to simply leave it alone.

As the two readied themselves, Hotarubi would be the first to move. He was slow and clumsy, and even for a genin like himself, he could clearly see that whatever Hotarubi was doing, or trying to do, was being telegraphed. He cocked his fist back, ready to seemingly blow a hole through Red’s chest, but if there was one strength the genin could always rely on, it was his speed. And even with his rank being near the bottom of the barrel, he was fast.

It seemed with little effort that Red would outmaneuver his sparring partner, and with a shift of his footing, and a small burst of energy, the genin would move himself a meter to his right. His palms were left open, his knees unlocked, and he was ready to strike. Hotarubi turned to him, his first strike cleaving through the air, with another strike already beginning to follow through. Not with an elbow, or his opposite hand, like Red expected, not even with his knee or foot, but with the man’s head.

‘You can’t be serious.’ Red thought to himself.

A headbutt, in his opinion, was quite possibly one of the worst attacks anyone could have made. Unless he had a skull made of stone, a headbutt like that would have done just as much damage to himself as it would have to Red. Not only that, but striking in such a way would 99% of the time, leave you wide open for a counter, with nearly all of your vision now focused on the floor, or even if successful, pointing into your adversary.

"Tch,” Red smirked, once more using his speed to his advantage in an attempt to avoid the attack. A small back step and Hotarubi’s head would wave before him missing by a mere few inches, but this time Red wouldn’t let him get off so easily. As his pink-haired peer’s head swung passed him, Red’s knee would launch from the ground in a straight collision course for the bridge of his nose. Expecting Hotarubi to recoil from the blow, he’d follow it up by shifting himself lower, spinning downward with the same leg extending in hopes to trip the academy student, and land the man flat on his back. Wide-open for a follow-up axe-kick straight to the solar plexus.

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Hotarubi hadn't quite realised how much he was telegraphing his combat moves. But without the appropriate guidance, no change would be made. First attack missed. Hotarubi perservered with the second. He left himself wide open enough that his face would have a front seat to Red's attacks despite having little to stop it with. So, while his body did try to move, Red was plainly faster. The knee would be successful, barring that it was being semi-held by a couple of his fingers, but Red would find an all too comfortable hit marker in hitting Hotarubi. The back of his hand, would still crunch against his face. His fingers, not nice. But, the feeling was just one of feigned ignorance because Hotarubi hadn't even winced: but because as a new shinobi he had not learned how to fake out properly and didn't even know it was something to think about. But his lack of response was likely the first initial warning against it. The second would also be successful: and Red would have figured out something was wrong by then. The facet though was that all he'd do was shift. Red was powerful enough to shift his weight, but without dedicating the proper muscle or jutsu to ruin him, he wasn't going to move Hotarubi. Hotarubi would carry on, recovered from the attacks but being slightly off balance to try and raise a leg - and stamping the thigh of the Shinobi. Again, plain to see: and a second attack again, a punch to the face. None of which Hotarubi expected to happen.

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Much to Red’s surprise, Hotarubi seemed to react in a very surprising way. Or more accurately not react. The blow to his face, despite being braced with his hands, was sure to cause a fair amount of impact. What’s more, Red noticed that as his knee collided with the man, it didn’t quite feel like a human being he was fighting. Even more so when he followed the knee with his lower leg strike. He joked about it in his mind not even seconds ago, but was this man truly made of stone?

He was admittedly taken a bit by surprise, lost in the train of thought, which allowed Hotarubi to connect with the blow to his thigh. It was heavy. Powerful, sure, but heavy felt more accurate to describe it. A surge of pain went through him, and despite his best efforts, his wandering thoughts on who exactly he had challenged allowed the academy student to land another strike straight to his face.

Allowing the follow-through to give him a bit of momentum, Red rolled to the side and create distance, standing with a face devoid of all emotion. He brought his arm to his lip, wiping a small trail of blood from the edge of his mouth before he’d focus himself.

"No more wandering thoughts.” He mumbled. "Be the void.”

Red would take in a deep breath, allowing the calm to come over him. It was almost as if he’d flipped a switch in his mind, forgetting about whatever hidden advantages the brute before him had, forgetting the pain in his leg and his face, putting all of his efforts into his objective. He would not let him lose so easily.

This time, Red would go on the offensive. Using his speed to his advantage, Red would dart forward directly toward Hotarubi. Expecting the man to throw an attack his way as he barreled forward, Red would take to the ground in an effort to slide past him. If successful, he’d leap, rotating in the air to try and kick between Hotarubi’s shoulder blades.

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Hotarubi smirked at his passivity for the time being - Red had not anticipated his sudden durability. Hotarubi would wait for him to come at him, and throw out another hook towards his face. Again unsurprisingly Red would be successful with his dodge and again with his attack, but Hotarubi did note his attack made him slightly slower. That was good enough to Hotarubi - he wasn't out to kill him. Taki was full of the right people - the strong people. Hotarubi would not make Takigakure weak on purpose - even if that was a directly contradicting thought to when he'd been such a 'punk' in the past. But, he hoped that would be ironed out of him. Enemies? Oh yeah, they'd be dead. This attack was much more filled with strength and Hotarubi did jutt forward, putting a leg out to have to stop himself from falling forward or having to roll. But, he to step forward quite a lot to maintain his balance from being pushed off balance because of his own attack. That was bad. Don't do that - he told himself. Still, he turned, and if they hadn't done anything would try and use a frontal leg kick, leaning back on one leg to a central part of Red's body, into the stomach preferably. But, it would never be that simple and he did not expect that they would be there. So far, so good. "If you don't hurry up, I'll get serious." Hotarubi was playing around a bit, because he knew the truth of the situation - he couldn't act like this out on the field. People would die, and he would not want to give them the edge that meant the different between knowing and understanding his strengths and not. This was just learning.

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It seemed this time Red had managed to knock Hotarubi around a little bit more than his last attack. Still, though, it was hard to guage exactly how much strength he would need in order to make his opponent actually feel the impact of his blows without actually causing any lasting damage. This was just a spar, after all, and he did not want to hinder the fellow who still needed to prove himself in the academy in time to come.

Red would let out a small hum as Hotarubi taunted him, his face still an emotionless blank stare. Perhaps it was time to push himself, though. As much as he had just told himself that he meant no real ill will to his fellow shinobi, Hotarubi needed to see what a real fight outside these walls looked like. Red himself needed to gear up towards the chunin exams, after all, and he wouldn’t get very far if he didn’t push himself. So be it. If Hotarubi wanted to train his strength, then Red would do what he could to oblige.

No words fell from the genin as he once more darted forward toward his pink-haired adversary. This time, he would throw no feints, no cheeky dodges. Red would go all out on the offensive.

A few feet before Hotarubi, the genin would jump off the ground and unleash a series of kicks going down his chest. There was a considerable amount of power put into his blows this time around, much more so than his previous attacks anyway. He knew he was not the strongest of shinobi, but it was time to push his limits and bring the heat. Three kicks in total would go down Hotarubi’s core, most of which he’d assumed would be blocked if he could have helped it.

When he would eventually reach the ground, Red would hit the dirt, his hands pressed flat against the ground as he coiled his body, before exploding with an upward kick pointed straight for Hotarubi’s chin.

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