Shuriken Training (1)

After school, Kiyoshi headed toward the Back Mountain with his schoolbag on his back.

They had taken a test that morning, and Iruka had handed back the papers that afternoon. Kiyoshi had done neither badly nor well-somewhere in the middle. Nakajima had looked at his score with a slightly conflicted expression, probably wanting to mock him but finding no opening.

Kiyoshi didn't care. All he could think about was the Back Mountain.

Last time, Shisui had said he would "drop by occasionally." Kiyoshi had no idea how often "occasionally" meant. But he had decided to go wait every day. What if Shisui showed up?

He walked down the street and turned onto the little path leading up the mountain. The grass along the path had grown a little taller since last week. Some of the leaves had already turned yellow, rustling beneath his feet.

He glanced down at his shoes. They were dusty, with a little mud on them too. He would have to scrub them himself when he got home. Misa certainly wouldn't do it for him.

He reached the training ground.

The clearing was empty. Fallen leaves covered the ground in a thick layer of yellow and brown. A gust of wind sent them tumbling a short distance before they settled again.

He put down his schoolbag and sat beneath a tree, by its roots.

He waited a while.

Then he waited a while longer.

There was nothing but the wind in the woods and some unidentified bird calling in the distance, its cries broken and uneven, as though it had a bad throat.

He looked down at his hands. His fingers still bore the calluses from yesterday's shuriken practice. They felt a little hard when he pressed them.

He spoke to himself. "...Not coming?"

Then he heard a voice behind him.

"I'm here, but you sounded a little disappointed just now."

Kiyoshi turned around.

Shisui stood a few steps behind him in a black Anbu uniform, his mask hanging from his belt and a cloth bundle in his hand.

He wore a faint smile, as if to say, "I heard you talking to yourself."

Kiyoshi's face remained blank. "I wasn't disappointed."

"You just said, 'Not coming?'"

"I was practicing my lines."

"What lines?"

"For a play. The school is putting on a play."

Shisui watched him for a moment, the corners of his mouth lifting a little higher. "...The Ninja Academy puts on plays?"

"Yeah."

"What are you playing?"

"A tree."

Shisui fell silent for two seconds, then burst out laughing. It was a quiet laugh, his expression that of someone trying his hardest to hold it in but finally losing the battle.

His image as a dignified senior was about to crumble. Struggling to contain his laughter, he shook his head. "You little rascal, honestly..."

Kiyoshi kept his face blank and said nothing.

I've made it so obvious that he must know I'm making this up, but he hasn't called me on it. Shisui is easier to get along with than I thought.

Shisui walked to the middle of the clearing, set down the cloth bundle, and opened it. Inside were several rows of shuriken and a few kunai, their finely honed edges gleaming coldly in the evening light.

"We're moving on to advanced practice today," Shisui said. "Last time, you practiced with a stationary target. Today, we'll use a moving one."

Kiyoshi walked over and glanced down at the row of shuriken. Their edges were keen, far better than the ones he usually used at school.

He picked one up and hefted it. It was a little heavier than the school ones, and its center of gravity was different too. It felt steadier in his hand.

He blurted out, "This edge is nicely honed."

Shisui paused. "You can tell whether an edge has been honed well?"

"I can see it. The school shuriken have flat edges that don't taper enough. This one's bevel angle is smaller, so it's sharper."

Shisui looked at him without speaking.

Kiyoshi raised his head and found Shisui watching him.

"What is it?"

"...Nothing," Shisui said. "Go on."

"About what?"

"How you could tell the bevel angle was smaller."

Kiyoshi glanced down at the shuriken in his hand. "...I could just see it. The edge reflects light at a different angle. This one tapers more narrowly, so the reflection is thin. The school ones are wider, so the reflection spreads out. And it feels different when I heft it. This one's well made."

Shisui fell silent.

He stayed silent for quite a while before speaking. "Is this really your first time learning to use shuriken?"

"Yeah."

"You're not lying to me?"

"I'm not."

Kiyoshi set the shuriken back on the cloth bundle and thought for a moment. If he left certain things unexplained, Shisui would keep scrutinizing him. Give him an explanation, and he could let them go instead.

"I met someone when I was little." He took a deep breath and slowly continued:

"I was three or four. I only met him once. He said he knew everything about the past and present. What had happened before, what would happen later-he knew it all."

With that, Kiyoshi gently closed his eyes. This was the first step.

Shisui said nothing.

"He gave me some things and told me a few things too. Later, some of them came true."

"Who was he?"

"I don't know. I never saw him again."

"What did he give you?"

"Things that weren't important."

Shisui stared at him for a long time, his eyes saying, "I don't believe you, but you're being so serious that I can't argue."

He drew a breath, then let it out. "...All right." He cinched the bundle's drawstring, lowering his voice. "Don't tell anyone else about things like this. Not even your family."

"Okay."

Shisui shook his head and walked to the other end of the clearing. He took a target from the cloth bundle and planted it in the ground. Then he came back holding a rope, its other end tied to the target.

"The principle behind a moving target is simple," Shisui said. "I pull the rope, and the target moves from side to side. You have to hit the center while it's moving."

Kiyoshi looked at the target, then at the rope in Shisui's hand.

"That's all?"

"That's all."

"Then let's start."

Shisui tugged the rope, and the target began sliding from side to side. He released it, and the target stopped in the middle. Another tug sent it sliding to the left.

"Give it a try first. I'll pull once, and you throw once."

Kiyoshi nodded and picked up a shuriken.

Shisui tugged the rope, sending the target sliding from right to left.

Kiyoshi flicked his hand.

The shuriken flew out, spun twice in midair, skimmed past the edge of the target, and embedded itself in the tree trunk behind it.

A miss.

Kiyoshi's face remained blank. "...Again."

Shisui tugged once more.

Kiyoshi threw again.

Another miss.

Again.

Another miss.

Five throws in a row. All misses.

The closest one had landed roughly a hand's width from the bull's-eye. The farthest had flown behind the target, lodging in some unknown tree.

Kiyoshi stared at the target, his face blank, and said nothing.

Shisui stood beside him without laughing, but the muscles at the corners of his mouth were twitching. Holding it in was taking real effort.

"You..."

"I was calculating wind drift," Kiyoshi interrupted.

Shisui paused. "...What?"

"Wind drift," Kiyoshi said. "There's wind today. It isn't strong, but it's blowing from the left, which affects the shuriken's trajectory. I was calculating the wind speed and the amount of drift."

Shisui looked at him, the twitching at the corners of his mouth growing more obvious. "So those five misses in a row were you calculating wind drift?"