The University of Tokyo, Kyudo Club dojo.
The sky was clear, and a gentle breeze blew.
"Twang."
With a crisp hum of the bowstring, the arrow flew free, graceful as a startled swan, sinuous as a roaming dragon, tracing a beautiful arc through the air.
"Whoosh."
Uchiha Naruto stood beneath the Kyudo Club's broad, bright veranda, his back straight and his figure slender. His pure white kyudo hakama accentuated the beauty of his shooting stance.
His expression was detached and composed, neither arrogant nor impatient. Maintaining zanshin, he did not even glance at the target on the long-distance range sixty meters away.
He seemed unconcerned about the outcome of the shot-or perhaps he had absolute confidence.
With a soft thud, the arrow struck the bull's-eye and sank halfway in, its fletching trembling slightly.
Seven or eight arrows were already embedded in that same target, every one of them a direct hit on the bull's-eye.
Without a ripple of emotion, Uchiha Naruto took the second arrow resting on the little finger of his right hand and nocked it on his seven-foot Japanese bow, drawing the string in readiness. From setting the arrow to raising the bow and nocking it, his movements flowed like water, displaying elegance and style.
Kyudo called for archers to maintain a dignified, elegant bearing regardless of the occasion, adhere to the Eight Steps of Archery, and keep their minds pure and clear, at one with their shooting stance, pouring their sincerity into each arrow.
But Uchiha Naruto's original reason for choosing kyudo in high school had been thoroughly vulgar. In a word: style.
In terms of looking cool-showing off-kyudo far surpassed kendo.
Although kendo had a wider following and looked more imposing and powerful, its competitors wore training uniforms and broad hakama, along with protective face guards,