Six years.

For six long years the boy trained relentlessly.

The morning after that night, Ikijo took Sozin out back to assess his skills and fitness in order to find out where he would have to start his training. To neither's surprise, both elements were lacking severely, but the boy showed tenacity in doing his best. Though he was not yet ready to wield a blade, as a reward, Ikijo allowed the boy to test his own sword he had used in the army out on some targets since he had been asking so fervently for a chance. Again, the targets were tatami mats—the very same kind his father had asked him to cut only a few days earlier— so Sozin was surprised to find out that he cut through the mats like butter with his first attack, a sloppy but emotionally charged slice.

"I actually cut it," Sozin said. "It actually worked..."

"It's a sword," Ikijo said. "Not what you were expecting?"

"No..." Sozin murmured, his mind turning to his brothers. "I just thought..."

Sozin took in a long, contemplating breath. Could it be? Had they set him up to fail? Why would they set him up to fail? Thinking back on the events of that day, Sozin distinctly remembered Hakoda being able to easily cut through the target with his katana, but when he himself got his hands on it, the sword didn't even get halfway through. It took Sozin a moment, but then it him like a wall of bricks. The only thing his brothers would have to gain by sabotaging his efforts is father's scroll. Knowing father wouldn't train him if he failed, they wanted to make sure he did so they could use it as an opportunity to make a deal they wouldn't otherwise be able to. The scroll in exchange for them training Sozin behind father's back which they probably weren't even going to do anyway. Sozin clenched his fist in anger. It all made sense now. He didn't care anymore about impressing father, but the fact that his brothers had screwed him over like that for a piece of paper made his blood boil into an impending simmer. And they beat him up for not managing to get it.

Ikijo must've sensed something was wrong because his voice invaded Sozin's mind. "Is something the matter, Sozin?" the man spoke up from behind him.

"No..." Sozin said. "I just wish my technique wasn't so sloppy."

"Ah..." Ikijo remarked. "You shouldn't expect yourself to be perfect when you haven't even begun your training yet. I won't be teaching you swordsmanship for a long while so don't mull over it. You aren't even close to ready yet."

"Really?" Sozin said in confusion. "What gives? Can't we start with the basics?"

"Well, you're not exactly in the best shape of your life, are you?" Ikijo said. "You should know that even the mere basics of swordsmanship require a proper foundation in order to be taught correctly. First things first. To master the blade, you must first master the body as it is an extension of yourself. By strengthening your body and learning how to use it through martial arts, only then will you have created a strong foundation on which to mount your skills in swordsmanship."

"Is that really necessary?" Sozin asked, interested only in sword combat.

"Yes!" Ikijo reaffirmed. "It's extremely important. You want to be able to fight and move like a shinobi, don't you? Surmounting obstacles to escape enemies, backflipping, and evading attacks?"

Sozin nodded.

"Then heed my words," Ikijo continued. "Being able to move around freely and effortlessly is the most important and defining shinobi skill, meanwhile, you struggled to do even a few pull-ups, let alone single-handed ones. If you're going to learn from me, you will be taught in the way I was. As shinobi, my own master made sure to instill in me the "Four Pillars" doctrine. Each limb must be able to act with great force unaided by the rest of the body, and this principle has shaped our training. Unlike samurai, shinobi can't get away with being slow and cumbersome. We mix a lot of martial arts and acrobatics into our swordplay and need to be able to get around the environment, much of which requires significant single-limbed strength."

"Oh, I see," Sozin said, fascinated by what the man was telling him. "That makes sense. So, what's the plan then?"

"Starting now, we'll be focusing mainly on athletics with some martial arts inbetween, however, until you get stronger, you won't be able to perform the more advanced moves. For your first task, I want you to give me one-hundred pushups."

"One-hundred? Sozin exclaimed in disbelief. "I can hardly do ten!"

"You told me you wanted to train, so we are going to train," Ikijo said in a matter-of-fact tone. "And you only did five, actually. Your form was terrible at the end. Do them right this time."

"Really? Just five?" Sozin chuckled, his mouth widening into an apprehensive grin. "Great... This is really going to suck then."

Sozin lowered himself down to the earth, planting his hands in front of him, feeling the weight of his body dig them into the ground. This was the first time he had ever truly exercised. Confident, he took a deep breath and then started working on pumping out the numbers. The first few sets came fairly easy, and his muscles didn't burn too bad for a while, but Sozin was in for the long haul, and soon, the feeling of acid bleeding through his arms quickly began to set in. Ten reps became nine. Nine reps became eight. Then he was barely making any progress at all, and that goal of one-hundred seemed to grow ever farther after each set. While Sozin struggled to keep going, Ikijo stood by silently, watching the boy's reaction with studious intent. Sozin's arms began to shake and fail beneath his weight, but he still kept going. He didn't care how slow his progress was, all that mattered to him was that he was making it at all, and in the end, he did, in fact, make it.

Sozin collapsed into a heap at the end of his final set. "There you go! One-hundred" he gasped victoriously, smacking his dry lips. When the words left his parched tongue, a pair of feet he had almost forgotten about amongst his struggling appeared right in front of him.

"Well, it appears you were able to do them after all," Ikijo said. "Remember, Sozin: Those who demonstrate devotion are often rewarded for their time. You didn't think you could do it in the beginning, but look at you now..."

"Yeah, look at me now," Sozin chuckled, out of breath. "I'm a total mess."

"But a triumphant one," Ikijo added.

"Triumphant? I was barely able to do it..."

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Barely is good enough for now," Ikijo said. "You'll get stronger in due time."

Sozin would go on to know that gruesome burning feeling quite well as he did that exercise and a plethora more every single day for a whole year. There were a lot of bodyweight exercises to keep up with, the forms for which were slowly being cemented into his memory. At the time, doing those exercises felt more like torture than it did training, but Sozin held faith in Ikijo's teachings and abided by all of them. For the first few weeks, Ikijo would always stand by, watching Sozin's every move with the gaze of a seasoned hawk as he did each rep, correcting his form at the slightest sign of deviation. Eventually, Sozin learned to do them by himself, and that feeling of pain at the end of each set turned to satisfaction as he improved by the week. It became an addiction. He was seeing himself grow. His body, and not to mention his appetite, was changing in ways he didn't even know it could. It was especially rewarding to see his own progress after a long and painful year as he began to look like something bearing semblance to man, though with a still boyish face and young personality. To his pleasant surprise, he had even gotten taller.

Sozin's increasing strength opened doors to new sets of skills, both in martial arts and in parkour. The martial arts skills that they practiced daily were very basic at first, but slowly and surely, as Sozin got stronger, they soon began to delve into the more advanced material. Sozin could remember so clearly. The Mikiri Counter was his first real taste of a dangerous and little-known technique. Sozin had been anticipating this moment for a while. Until recently, his legwork hadn't been quick enough to even attempt to perform the technique.

"It is nearly impossible to perceive the speed of a thrust, but not for the sharp eyes of a shinobi. Follow the blade with your gaze but not without anticipating its movements and letting your body move accordingly," Ikijo said. "I know you are scared, but remaining composed, even when fearful of the blade's deadly edge is the key to victory. Do not hesitate, Sozin. Or you will most certainly be cut."

Ikijo shifted into an attack stance as Sozin steadied his nerves. This was a martial arts technique that worked well against unarmed and armed opponents, but in truth, Sozin was a lot more comfortable performing this technique on a sweeping leg than he was a thrusting sword. He had practiced it a thousand times before on sticks that Ikijo would swing in a low, sweeping motion or thrust in the place of a blade, but now it was time for the real thing, and the real thing could dismember him should he make the slightest mistake and step too far ahead of the sword. Fear was a factor here, and he had to overcome it.

Shinobi could calm the body and mind through measured breathing, even while killing. Sozin did just that as his master had taught him. The boy's concentration seemed to increase ten-fold as he kept his eyes perfectly focused on Ikijo's katana.

Immediately, with great swiftness and speed, Ikijo rushed forward in a flash, thrusting his sword at Sozin. Sozin's eyes followed the blade intently, predicting where it would be in the next split second. When it's cutting edge was nearly upon him, he quickly sidestepped, lifted his foot up, and slammed it down onto the blade, pinning it to the floor with an imposing thud. Before Ikijo even had time to think about pulling his sword out from under, Sozin had already put the edge of his hand against Ikijo's neck.

Sozin beamed from ear to ear.

"Well done, my boy..." Ikijo said. "This is a big milestone for you. In a real battle, your opponents are going to be using real weapons so I'm glad you were able to get past this. High-risk techniques like the Mikiri Counter require conquering your fear of weaponry, and it is the most important and final step in mastering them. You've done well in your efforts these past few weeks, Sozin. I'm proud of you."

Sozin tilted his head. "Proud?" He knew what the word meant, but it was unusual to hear it. He had never heard it before. Pressing his hands together, Sozin bowed in respect, "Thank you, master."

It was always strange to hear Ikijo talk. Sozin enjoyed speaking to the man. He spoke so differently from how Sozin's father did. The way Ikijo said "boy" and "son", the way he spoke and referred to Sozin—it was always so warm or well-meaning. Sozin couldn't help but feel a strange fuzziness in his heart whenever he thought of his mentor.

That day, Sozin returned home with the biggest smile on his face. His brothers didn't seem to like that, but he didn't care anymore. He took their beatings with pride. Though they still bothered him from time to time whenever he showed up for the night, Sozin didn't dare defend himself and reveal the fact that he had been learning martial arts from someone. Right now, his parents didn't seem to care that he was missing all the time, and maybe they were even glad that he was gone or hadn't even noticed. Sozin couldn't tell, but if his brothers found out what he was doing and told them, then he would probably be forbidden from ever seeing his master again. Instead, Sozin saw his brother's beatings in a new light, and considered them as something that would strengthen him, using each incident as an opportunity to learn how to take blows and minimize injury per Ikijo's instruction.

Sozin could feel the results of his training in his bones. As the days went by, he began to feel more confident in his own skin. Even his father noticed one night as they crossed paths in the halls of their estate.

They were just about to pass each other when Danzo thrust his arm out and stopped Sozin cold in his tracks. Sozin gasped, a shiver running down his spine. Though his father's arms weren't bulky, they were long and robust, trapping him there like the bars of a prison cell. Despite Sozin's newfound height, his father still towered over him, a mountain of a man. They didn't see each other so often anymore ever since Sozin had started his routine.

Danzo turned his head, studying Sozin's meek form with stern eyes.

"Your muscles..." Danzo spoke.

"Father?"

Danzo placed his paw-like hands on Sozin's shoulders, feeling the muscle along his arm and upper back. "Hmm. Seems you've grown, if just a little," Danzo continued in a low, grumbling voice. "What have you been doing?"

"Nothing," Sozin said. "It's just puberty, I guess."

"I suppose it's about that time, isn't it? You're a late bloomer," Danzo said. "See to it that you eat well. This may be your saving grace."

Sozin nodded. "Of course, father. I will..."

"Good..." Danzo said with a pat. "Carry on then."

Danzo retired to the bedroom for the night. When he walked in, Ursa was lying under the sheets of the futon, glasses on, reading a book. Danzo payed her no mind as he wordlessly sat down on the bed and contemplated what to do next.

"Is everything all right, my love? It looks like something is troubling you," Ursa said, looking up from her book.

Danzo took a moment to consider his position before he spoke. "I fear for our sons," he said heavily. "Despite their training, neither Hakoda nor Ukon have been able to awaken their spirit animal. I've tried everything. If they don't have it, then the other boy—Sozin—I suspect he may be the only other spiritborn in the family. Normally, that would be concerning, but he's changed, hasn't he? He's gotten bigger.

"Indeed," Ursa said. "He's finally growing up."

"So it seems, but there may be more to it than that," Danzo said. "Do you know what he's been up to? I'm doubtful that puberty alone can explain his significant changes."

"I'm not sure. He disappears for the whole day and only returns at night," Ursa said.

Danzo's brows furrowed. "Does he now?"

The next day, Danzo made sure to follow Sozin, and what he saw shocked him to the core. The boy had lied straight through his teeth—a respectable deception and not an entirely unpleasant one coming from his own son. From high atop a tree, he watched them as they sparred in hand-to-hand combat. Who this man that was training his son was, he did not know, but what he did know was that he couldn't allow it to continue. At least not indefinitely. It was heresy after all, but although the boy had broken the Shadow's Code and defied his father's will, perhaps there was something to be gained from this. They seemed to be bonding, and the boy was getting stronger. Danzo would allow the training to continue for now, but when the time came and his son was ready, he would put an end to these shenanigans and find out if anything has come of them. And there was another matter. Unlocking one's spiritborn was a difficult task even with rigorous training, but there was one surefire method that always worked no matter what, and this man was going to provide just the perfect opportunity to use it on the boy. Six years he would give him, and at the end, this would all come to a head.

Danzo would have his spiritborn prodigy, one way or another. A true weapon of his own blood to command.