FAMILY GROUNDS
FIELD A, 11:40AM
JUNE 28, 2012
It was a bright and sunny day at the grounds of the Two Clans. A very busy day as well, because the day of the Tournament was fast approaching! Many were mostly in the Colosseum, which is in the center of the complex, ensuring that all things are set in order for the big day. Even though it was still rather early, many clan members and even outsiders were getting themselves in order for the day to come. Among all this hustle and bustle, even the Hunter Trainees were busy doing their final rounds of training, all getting ready to display their growth over the past few years, and officially cement themselves as the new generation of Hunters.
On the southern field, Field A, was a small gathering consisting of Emir, Fudo, Katashi, Miwa, and Chojo. They were observing two young individuals, sparring in hand-to-hand combat.
“This is...actually incredible...” Miwa remarked.
“You can say that again...look at him go,” Chojo added.
As the faces of the young men were revealed…they turned out to be Ilmar and, surprisingly, his younger brother Jamal. For almost two years, the two had been engaging in rigorous Martial Arts training, at Jamal’s request. As they sparred, they reacted swiftly and flawlessly to each other’s moves, employing various forms of Martial Arts such as Karate, Wing Chun, Aikido, and Jujutsu. They were even fighting on equal footing!
As they sparred, their spectators looked on in awe, mostly at Jamal.
“An unbalanced one such as himself...yet, look how much he’s grown,” Miwa commented.
“He moves quite well for his age; he’s nimble, and is quick to set up the next move...but -”
Just then, Jamal landed a strong punch to his brother’s jaw. But, seemingly unaffected, Ilmar steadied his stance and delivered a heavy kick to his chest, thrusting him away to the ground. Ilmar secured his victory.
“His attacks don’t hit as hard as they should. Sadly, he won’t be getting any stronger than he is now,” Emir pointed out.
Laying on the ground, Jamal lamented at his inferiority, realizing his limits.
“Tch...is this really the best I can do?...”
“Oi, don’t sweat it you knucklehead,” Ilmar encouraged as he stretched out a hand to help his brother up.
“Obviously they aren’t masters...but, their Martial Arts is quite refined. Almost as good as you were at that age, Fudo-kun,” Emir enthused, to which Fudo responded,
“Well, I won’t disagree.”
As Jamal stood to his feet, Ilmar bumped him on his head.
“I keep telling you to stop holding back your punches, Jamal!”
“But, brother...”
“I get it, you don’t wanna hurt me...”
Grabbing him in a headlock, he continued,
“But you CAN’T hurt me, idiot!”
“Look, the Tournament’s coming up real soon, and everyone knows how unlikely the two of you are to win. But, I wanna see you give it your all, bro! I haven’t been training you almost two years for nothing!”
Hearing these words, Jamal reflected on all his experiences for the past year and 10 months, all his training and even low moments. Looking also on everyone around him, smiling at the progress he’s managed to make, he mustered up the encouragement and swore to Ilmar:
“I will do my best, Brother!”
“Heh, you better!” Ilmar happily responded as they fist-bumped each other.
“That reminds me, Rakulli’s training the other kid, huh?” Katashi asked.
“Yeah, I heard things have been going pretty well for him,” Fudo responded as he looked on over a distant rooftop…
----------------------------------------
“This will be your final Awareness test, Tarik.”
Upon the top of a building were Steffan and Tarik, engaging in training as well. The lad’s blonde-white hair and white robe waved with the wind as he engaged in his final lesson before the tournament day. He listened on as his Sensei explained the test,
“This Technique of mine completely erases my presence, down to the very scent of my energy. In fact, I used this some time ago to infiltrate Dragon Territory and capture one of their high ranks.”
“If you can find me within 10 seconds, you’ll have attained a level of spiritual awareness that scratches the surface of what even your Father can do,” he informed him. Of a fact, when it came to Majutsu techniques, there was nobody who could match Tenchi Yamaguchi.
“If you fail...don’t even think about that Tournament, or future lessons from me,” he declared menacingly, his blue eyes glaring at his pupil.
“…ready?”
Closing his eyes, and assuming a stance, Tarik responded:
“Yeah.”
Lifting a hand, and crossing his middle and index fingers, Steffan whispered:
Secret Technique: Thin Ice · 白い氷 (Shi-ro Iko-ri)
For an instant, snow flowed all around his body, and he slowly disappeared into thin air.
Focusing, Tarik scanned the entire area, searching for the feintest residue of Steffan’s energy.
“Focus...”
“Focus...”
After about 5 seconds, Tarik picked up on something; though completely invisible, he found his energy! Just as he was about to lift a hand,
“Got you-”
?!
Tarik was greeted by something totally unexpected: Steffan’s energy was present in multiple positions. He was forcing his pupil to find him with even more distractions - a total of 5 different clones.
“I feel 5 different signatures…and they’re all the same! Are these clones? That just makes it way more difficult!”
“But, don’t freak out Tarik, stay calm. Focus...!”
Steffan however, was impressed to see that Tarik actually picked up on this:
“He’s really able to sense me in this state...very good, Tarik.”
“But, what will you do? Can you pinpoint the real me?”
With only a few seconds left, he struggled to make a decision…until…
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SOMETIME WITHIN THE PAST YEAR
WEST PARK, FAMILY GROUNDS
“Hey, Sensei. How are clones made?”
Walking through the complex's park, Tarik and Steffan were discussing the former's training regime, when Tarik brought up a certain question he'd had on his mind.
“Long story short, you can’t make them,” Steffan responded bluntly.
“...you don’t have to be so mean to me.”
“Well, aside from possessing very refined Majutsu Manipulation skills, it goes like this: you’d take a designated portion of Spirit Energy to create the clone,” he explained.
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“...is that it? Then, why can’t I-”
“The technique is afterwards sustained using your Physical Energy. I shouldn’t have to elaborate on the danger that poses to you,” he informed him.
“Wait, a Majutsu Technique is sustained by Physical Energy? How does that work?” Tarik asked.
"Here's the thing," Steffan went on, "although Majutsu Techniques are indeed mostly fueled by Spirit Energy...that doesn't mean Physical Energy isn't required. Your body uses stamina - the core of Physical Energy, to facilitate the use of techniques. In other words, think of a printer that has ink and paper, but no power."
"There are some techniques like Body Reinforcement that require only Physical Energy, which is why even Jamal who doesn't have Spirit Energy can use it," he added.
“...but what about Majutsu Replacement?” the boy intuitively asked.
“You’re as sharp as ever, I love it.”
“Eh?”
“Still, it would take up too much energy overall. Your reserves are quite small, especially considering you’re unbalanced. In total, you would have to designate energy for Replacement, and energy for the clone,” Steffan elaborated.
*sigh*
“Well...what else should I know about clones?”
“Let’s see…whatever a clone experiences or learns, is transmitted to the user when the technique is undone. For this reason, the technique is really handy for spying and intel gathering,” Steffan taught him.
“Although, one really big drawback is...”
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PRESENT
Eight seconds had passed at this point. Tarik’s time was almost up, and Steffan was ready to end the test.
“I guess he’s not at that level yet...but, he did manage to sense me. If I hadn’t used clones, he would’ve already passed -”
Right when hope seemed lost, and Steffan was ready to discontinue the test, Tarik stretched his hand toward one of the energy signatures, not knowing whether it was a clone, and shouted:
INVERSE-FLOW! · 逆運動 (Gyaku Un-dō)
Tarik performed the Inverse-Flow Technique! Upon doing this, the clone was completely paralyzed...as were all the others!!
!!
“He used...a technique on my clone?”
“Manipulating a clone’s energy, can interfere with the energy of the original!” Tarik ecstatically announced what he remembered from Steffan's explanation back then.
“I see...that cheeky brat. He remembered what I taught him and used it against me,” Steffan thought, grinning.
“But...that was Inverse-Flow just now...when did he...?”
As Steffan stood to his feet, his disciple was completely immersed in his victory.
“YEAH!! Just in time, right Sensei?”
“Haha...excellent work, my lovely pupil. 20 Points for you! I wasn’t expecting you to use Inverse-Flow at all.”
“I can only freeze someone for less than a second, it’s no big deal,” Tarik nervously responded with his hand behind his head.
“Without a doubt...he may not be skilled in other areas right now, but his Majutsu Manipulation and spiritual awareness are almost unmatched among his peers. He’s definitely grown,” the Ice user acknowledged the boy internally.
“Ahh...I’m just so happy,” Steffan delighted.
“Um...Sensei?”
“It’s nothing. I’m proud of you, Tarik.”
As he was about to leave, he left one instruction with his student:
“I’ll be seeing you next week...don’t disappoint me.”
Placing his fist to his chest, Tarik responded with a smile:
“I swear I won’t!!”
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ABANDONED WAREHOUSE
UNDERGROUND LOUNGE, 1:35PM
Inside an underground lounge of the Dragons’ hideout sat Gyuwhan, playing games on a handheld device, accompanied by Daisuke. They were visited by the three Leaders of the Dragons’ Religious-sect, who came to Gyuwhan with a certain request.
“You said your names were...Kentaro, Mamoru, and Arata, right? So, what did you want?” Gyuwhan asked, unconcernedly, engaged in his game.
“Sorry for troubling you, Ryujin-sama. But, we wanted to ask a favor of you, on behalf of the Religious-Sect...”
“Normally, the way we do things goes the same way: we offer lip service to the public, gather numbers, and the people who seek to become our followers are collected and given Dragon Energy. This was our MO for about the past century...but, we’d been considering recently, even before Old Man Ryujin-sama passed, about making some, slight adjustments...”
“Oh, I see. You guys are just bored of the same-old same-old,” Gyuwhan suddenly cut him off, getting to the point for him.
“Precisely, Sir...it’s possible that revisions may be in order,” he added with a sly, confident look.
“Yeah. To be honest, I’d be pretty bored out of my mind too. Doing the exact same thing every day...constantly obeying my superior, unable to have my own way...”
“Um...Ryujin-sama?” Kentaro responded, bothered by the sudden tensing of the atmosphere.
“You’re much older than I am, so you must get that feeling a lot huh, Kentaro-san? I couldn’t imagine that, living my life under the orders of this old guy who holds my life in the palm of his hand...and now, his son takes over from him, who you probably thought you’d have an easier time dealing with...but it turns out, that his son is way worse than he was...” Gyuwhan assessed as his cold eyes began glaring at them, to which Kentaro ultimately lost his cool.
“N...not at all, Ryūjin-sama! We would never dare to esteem you in any lesser regard than -”
!!
Looking at Gyuwhan, Kentaro was ensnared in a hellish illusion…he was rendered absolutely immobile; knees weakened, heart rate skyrocketing, as what seemed like a nightmare beyond even death gazed into his soul.
Without a word or sound, he began foaming at the mouth, and fell straight to the ground.
“Kentaro!” the two others yelped at the sight. Pausing his game and glancing over, Gyuwhan asked them:
“That’s right, you all came having the same concerns in mind, correct?”
“No Sir! W-We only accompanied Kentaro here, we’ll be on our way now!”
“I see. Now, pick up your trash and get out of my sight,” Gyuwhan ordered as he sunk into the couch, resting his head in his hand. They then picked up their ally and stormed out of the room.
“Anyway, this thing is lame,” Gyuwhan complained as he tossed the device aside.
“There’s going to be a tournament huh, Daisuke-san?” he asked.
“Yes, Gyuwhan-san. It’s a custom for the Two Clans, every 7 years.”
“7 years? Why?…well, whatever idiots like, I guess.”
“So, if the years match up, then they should be just about finished with that Training Camp, correct?”
“That’s right,” Daisuke confirmed.
“I wouldn’t have believed without proof if you told me that those two were apart of it…shouldn’t they be about 10 years old by now? They’re kids.”
“Well…to be honest, Sir, you’re not much olde-”
Before Daisuke could finish his statement, Gyuwhan hurled his game device at Daisuke, who caught it effortlessly.
“Tch, I didn’t ask,” he remarked annoyedly.
As Gyuwhan stared into the ceiling, he engaged himself in thought,
“Jamal Sanjuro...Tarik Yamaguchi...”
“...I might have more important intentions regarding the two of you...but, I’ll definitely make you suffer.”
At this point, Gyuwhan then began to remember what his father Ivan had asked him some time ago…regarding whether he sensed anything off…
“...I see...”
“So, the puzzle all comes together now...I found it, Father.”
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FAMILY GROUNDS
HUNTER DOJO, 2:00PM
Once again, we return to the Family Grounds, where the Hunter Trainees have all gathered inside a Dojo nearby Field B with their teachers, Chojo and Miwa. Having completed their second year of Training Camp, their teachers called them together for a private congratulatory meeting. Chojo gave the main speech to them:
“Good to see you once again, students. I want to congratulate you once more for completing yet another year of the Hunter Training Camp. It wasn’t easy, especially that first year, however you all managed to pull through up to this year, and I’m proud.”
“Nevertheless, you all know me by now. I will, at this very moment, still encourage you to quit.”
The assembly was silent.
“as I expected, you stubborn brats.”
“Anyway, today we simply wanted to congratulate you, as well as bestow you all with your yearly grades and Specialties!”
Hearing that word, most of them were confused as to what that meant. Miwa however, continued:
“I’ll now be giving you all your grades, as well as the Special Roles that you have earned.
Listen carefully:”
Satoru Yamaguchi
Grade: 100%
Specialty: Majutsu Manipulation
Ilmar Sanjuro
Grade: 98%
Specialty: Taijutsu
Akiro Sanjuro
Grade: 95%
Specialty: Shurikenjutsu
Namiyo Yamaguchi
Grade: 90%
Specialty: Wave Controller
Saki Kirishima
Grade: 88%
Specialty: Majutsu Manipulation
Maki Kirishima
Grade: 88%
Specialty: Elemental Majutsu
Kento Yamaguchi
Grade: 85%
Specialty: Kenjutsu
Kinshi Yamaguchi
Grade: 83%
Specialty: Majutsu Manipulation
Haruo Sanjuro
Grade: 80%
Specialty: Kyūdō
Gina Sanjuro
Grade: 78%
Specialty: Flame Controller
Amira Sanjuro
Grade: 76%
Specialty: Majutsu Manipulation
Galib Sanjuro
Grade: 75%
Specialty: Armed Combat
Zeke Sanjuro
Grade: 73%
Specialty: Scout
Genki Sanjuro
Grade: 70%
Specialty: Armed Combat
Jamal Sanjuro
Grade: 50%
Specialty: Taijutsu
Tarik Yamaguchi
Grade: 50%
Specialty: Majutsu Manipulation
Everyone was generally pleased with their results…except Jamal and Tarik, who were horrified.
“We…came last?” Tarik asked.
“50 percent?” Jamal likewise asked.
“i mean, what did you two possibly expect?” Kinshi muttered in the background.
As they snickered around after hearing the two lowest grades, Chojo cleared his throat to address the class.
“Tarik Yamaguchi, and Jamal Sanjuro…these two students are referred to as unbalanced, as they were born lacking one of the energies. Because of that, we decided that the highest possible grade they would be able to achieve, is a maximum of 50%.”
Upon hearing that…they were all speechless.
“Um…come again, Sensei?...” Kinshi slowly asked.
“I said, that out of a total possible grade of 50%, both Jamal and Tarik each scored 50% this year. Basically…you could say they scored 100% in the area that they were limited to.”
Nobody said another word…they could only look at the two boys in shock. Their brothers however, Ilmar and Satoru, while both looking away, had the same thought in their minds:
“That’s my brother.”
Continuing his speech, Chojo then encouraged them all saying,
“Now, trainees. The time has finally come for you all to show everyone just how great you’ll all be in a few years, when you’ve all become fully fledged hunters. I encourage you all right now, to do the very best that you possibly can in this tournament. Exercise caution, and don’t be too reckless, but put on a spectacular show! Make us proud, Hunters!”
Bowing their heads, they all responded in unison:
“YES SIR!”