When You're Gone (Naoto/Past)

The sun was in full bloom, stretching a a great deep orange light across the evening sky. A cooling breeze float along gently along the wind as the leaves danced within the currents. Therein lies a field of grass within the long reaches of the property, it was one of the main training ground for the Tsubasa Compound. The place was filled anyone could ask from training dummies to practice weapons for any Clansmen to use. For on this particular day, the field was barren, quiet and vacant of any human life- all said for one and it’s cries in exhaustion. That said life was a small boy, bearing bright orange hair and he was the youngest son to the Leader of the Clan. The boy’s name was Jiyuu, at eleven years old.

Punching and kicking in succession, the young boy attacked the wooden training dummy. His day at the academy soon finished for the boy, and it was his just his typical day as any, all trouble. He had to deal with more challenges and spiteful looks, he either defended himself or fought for some cause, but trouble all the same. Even so, despite the odds, the boy wished to preserve, even right up to this moment. Somber and focused, he contiguously trained at this post, vigorously. He wanted only one thing in his life, to use his gifts to help people, Jiyuu thought he owed it to his departed mother. So that, she can look on, knowing her son has become a good and decent person.

But even with such aspirations, the harsh reality Jiyuu faces has beaten him down, time and time again. Of course he was strong in body and smart, but he couldn't just keep up with anything else. No Genjutsu nor Ninjutsu, even his stamina sometimes fail him. Much like now, when the next strike he makes landed once again upon the training post. Exhaustion sweep over him, he was out of breath in reaching his limit. The boy was frustrated and angry, so angry that even at that weakest point he continued to train. In Jiyuu’s mind, he figured what was the point of him living if he can’t make something of himself.

Now it wasn't exhaustion that overcame him anymore, it was pure untamed determination. “Come on, stupid body! Move, move, MOVE!” Willing himself from within, cheering him onward, he raised his fists once again. Blow after blow he made, felt stronger than than last. Growling in desperation, he fought on against this training post all the way to when it finally started to crack. The wood cracked more and more, but what it seemed to the end of that training post, Jiyuu’s fist stopped. His eyes widened at the post, violently and his whole body was shaking. It wasn't exhaustion, no, Jiyuu was hallucinating. And to put it more accurately, remembering.

Looking at the chipped post and his display strength, warped him backward in time by five years. This particular moment in question was when he first entered the Academy, the day of the monster. The only thing he could see and remember was just one color, red, blood red. It was the very first terrible thing Jiyuu has ever done and pledging himself to never do again. But even memories can resurface and attack when they want to, the poor boy just can’t stand a chance. He doesn't know his way to let this truly go, at least not yet. All he can really do when those moments happen is utter one phrase silently in his mind, “I’m sorry.” And when the moment is all said and done, can he regain his sense of self.

Becoming Jiyuu once again, he felt a strain of a fresh tear pouring down on his left cheek. Grunting and growing more angry at himself again, he quickly wiped off the tear and rubbed his brow. “Stupid, focus Jiyuu, you can’t fake out here,” quietly reminding himself, brimming with disgust. His gaze looked onward to the training post once more, “You can do this, come on.” Engraving more words into his heart, attempts once again to deal the bows. He only hoped there wont be any more interruptions, hopefully.