Post by Hitaru Arata on Dec 2, 2017 0:18:02 GMT
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me Typically speaking, Arata didn't overly enjoy the idea of putting a lot of effort into projects. It wasn't that he was lazy. Quite the opposite, in fact, as the genin was more than willing to put in work if it would get him results. That said, though, Arata was nothing if not smart, and he'd long since come to the conclusion a while back that if you were putting enough effort into something that you were beginning to get frustrated it meant you either weren't doing it right or you weren't doing it smart. Time and energy were valuable things, and neither were you could really get back once you'd spent them on something - so why not apply that energy towards making the process as efficient as possible? It was a way of thinking that had served him quite well during his days in the Academy, especially since most everything there assumed you had the tools, intelligence and information needed to solve a problem. In a way it had almost been too easy, something that had led directly into Arata's private studies away from the core class materials. That, however, had been the Academy, and the real world operated quite differently. Outside of those walls people were rarely willing to tell you how they learned to use the skills they did. That meant learning new jutsu became an entirely new experience when you didn't have someone more experienced directly teaching you how to use new techniques. To a point it was beyond frustrating, especially when everyone was supposed to be on the same side within Konoha's walls - clan rivalries aside, it made no sense to Arata to deliberately withhold information that might keep the guy next to you alive and well. That said, though, it also provided a certain sense of intellectual challenge that he simply hadn't gotten in the Academy. It'd been easily two months since Arata had first started spending an increasing amount of time within Konoha's training grounds, and not in the traditional sense. Asking hadn't worked - practically the only time Arata wished he had legally kept his parents' surname, and that had only left a handful of other options. The one that Arata had decided to take was debatably not the most mature, with the time since then more or less spent effectively stalking sparring matches between his estranged clansmen. The vast majority of the fights were too fast to follow, but after repeated instances of the technique he wanted being used he believed that he had finally worked out at least the basics of the Gōkakyū no Jutsu. Conceptually speaking it wasn't all that complicated. Even during his time in the Academy Arata had seen a few instances of a similar Suiton technique mentioned and detailed in texts, and due to the nearly identical uses it wasn't hard to draw the parallels. Chakra was stored and kneaded in the chest and lungs, then expelled while having the nature transformation applied to it - and had Arata been capable of using Suiton he probably would've learned that technique back when he'd first read about it. That aside, though, understanding the fundamentals behind the technique didn't mean much if you weren't aware of the hand seals involved in shaping the chakra used, and Arata's control wasn't so fine that he could just force it to do what he wanted on sheer willpower alone. He'd needed the hand seals, and that's where the last two months of Now that he had them it was just a matter of testing things out. Preferably in a safe, contained manner as he'd had plenty of less than ideal experiences following the days when he'd first learned how to use Katon itself and the resulting fires that experimentation had created, however accidental they might have been. Having located a pond out in the forested area of the training grounds - thankfully secluded - Arata was ready to start, standing out atop the water in his shorts and t shit, quite a distance from anything flammable. Stretching his arms for a moment, the genin calmly put his hands together and began working his way through the seals, slowly and deliberately. There was no rush - best to get the seals right, he could work on speed after he'd actually learned how to use the technique. Tora, Mi, Hitsuji, Saru, I, Uma, Tora. With the completion of the last hand seal Arata knew he'd gotten at least that much right. There was a warmth spreading across his chest from inside, although almost as soon as he'd realized it and brought the two pinched fingers to his lips it was already fading - little more than hot air escaped when he tried to expel flames. Not enough focus on building up the chakra needed? Times like these Arata wished he had the same kind of chakra control that a few of his classmates did, proper understanding along with that kind of pinpoint control would make this much easier. Once again, then. Tora, Mi, Hitsuji, Saru, I, Uma, Tora. This time around, however, Arata was focusing on the feeling in his chest right from the start. Feeding it, nurturing the chakra - and this time the results were both somehow promising and disappointing at the same time. Something did happen, that was the silver lining. The downside, however, was that it wasn't even close to what Arata had been hoping for in that only a few sparks emerged, and lost momentum fast enough to singe the genin's hand in front of his mouth. Swearing loudly and shaking the loose appendage for a moment to cool it, Arata began again only to find similar results. It was going to be a long afternoon. With several long hours having passed, the sun had almost completed its daily path across the sky. Left sleeve singed and burnt, the only thing that had kept Arata going was steady if incremental improvement with each attempt. The number of sparks with each try kept growing until they had turned into brief but weak glimpses of flame, but in time those had started to grow as well. After the first hour or so it had really turned into more a matter of rhythm and practice than knowing what to do. Knowledge could only get you so far until you found a feeling for what you were trying to do. Time aside, though, Arata probably only had one or two more attempts left in him - as things stood his chakra was already being stretched dangerously thin, and he'd long since had to retreat to the pond's edge to prevent himself from falling right through the water's surface. Fingers stinging from mild burns, Arata would begin again. Tora, Mi, Hitsuji, Saru, I, Uma, Tora. As far as the genin could tell he'd gotten everything right even halfway through the hand seals. The warmth in his chest was stronger than it had ever been before that point even in spite of his fatique, and it had begun welling up his throat just before Arata placed the fingers of his left hand in front of his lips again. What came out wasn't particularly impressive, but as far as Arata was concerned it was still a resounding success - a long, thin stream of steady yellow flame that would jet out a handful of meters over the water before losing strength. It lacked the deep orange and crimson of the more seasoned techniques nevermind the strength - as it was now Arata's was merely a pale imitation - but that would change with time. As the flame died out the genin would roughly drop to the ground in a sitting position, fatigue getting the better of him. Home could wait for a bit - for now, he needed a minute to rest. @tag |
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